At first Chris thought the name was a joke. Then he went inside. There's a mermaid above the bar. In a tank of water. Well then. Ordering a Jump the Shark for humors sake the Half-Man finds a comfortable seat against a wall and watches the Mermaid.
(Blush of life active)
How long has it been since Taft willingly set foot in a place like this? If memory serves, he never has. As his... tastes changed over the many years, a particular distaste for wanton abandonment in the presence of drink never did. Yet here he is. There is much to think about for the anomalous Shadow. A need for distraction. And he finds some here in the submerged breather wearing a fairy-tale creature’s habit.
The bald man sits quietly at his table. Alone. Without drink. Contemplating mysteries as the girl in the tank ‘performs’. His eyes drift, occasionally, observing other patrons. Eventually they find a solitary man seated nearby - rough around the edges and similarly practicing voyeurism. “Beautiful, are they not?”
Echo Darkling Razorhand/Truefriend, Spring Mantle 2(Oasis in the Desert) SL 2 (Provocateur) Press 3 (Trouble) (Harden Mask)
Echo had be ready to be hottest bitch in the bar, troll around take someone or three home, but there was a mermaid in a tank. Open mouthed Echo stares at the hot fish lady. In the water, with fins floating. Echo itched to get her paws wet. Devour her whole.
She keeps staring at the tank and the mermaid with the unnearving intencity of an cat watching prey, she dosen't even realize when more people join hder at the bar.
https://i.pinimg.com/474x/75/f9/31/7...lor-momson.jpg
An ear twitches as someone speaks to him and Chris shifts to look towards the voice. "They are. I haven't seen anything like it before." The man picks up his drink. "Mind if I join you? Always better to share a drink than alone." Then he notices the lack of a drink. "Unless drinks aren't your thing?" A nod towards the bar with a grin. "Someone else likes the mermaids too."
Taft shrugs, eyes lingering a tad longer than is polite. “The more the merrier. Though your guess on the latter is about right. Haven’t drank in what feels like a lifetime.”
He glances over in the direction of the bar.
“Oh, so it would seem.” He adds a grin of his own. “Such are the times, aren’t they?” Women gazing at women? There was a time when such thing was frowned upon. Certainly in a public setting such as this.
Taft tilts his head, almost imperceptibly. Almost.
“She looks like she wants to go fishing. What do you suppose she would do if she caught such a creature?”
Echo
If her ears weren't hidden by hardened glamour, they would have twiched as the men spoke, as it was they still perked.
"Why wouldn't I like the mermaids? I mean me-oew!" her voice is a drawl, eyes still raking over the exposed flesh. "Once her shift ends....Mmm!" she says, flashing the guys a grin
"Heh" If Chris knew the guy better there'd be smack talk. "Guess that answers that question." The not-a-man raises his glass slightly to both of them. "I'm Chris. Fairly new in town still." With that Chris pulls out a chair at the table and settles into it then pushes out another chair for the flirtatious women to take a seat if she'd like. "Not that I disagree with her." A nod towards the women and a grin of Chris's own.
Mmm indeed. “Yes, I suppose.” How interesting. Taft sincerely doubts the friendly living things know what they’re getting themselves into. “Lawrence. I’ve ... established myself. I must say, this is the first bar like this I’ve been to. Not exactly what one thinks of when a ‘dive bar’ is mentioned.” The spider grins, enjoying the play on words. “What night your name be, young lady?”
Echo
The Spring flashes them a cheshire grin, "Of course I'm right. I mean. Duh." she flick of an eyeroll.
With a mournful sigh and another smouldering look at the siren , Echo trails after the men. Wildman scruff? Burning intense eye, just ready to fuck her, mm! yes please!
"I call myself Echo."
LUCIFER
Fairest Shadowsoul/Illes, Autumn Mantle 1 (flicker of candle flame in her eyes).
PRE 4 (Smouldering), Striking Looks 4 (Nonpareil), Distinctive Voice (Disquieting)
Shadow Beauty (-1 Glamour), equivalent of extra 4 dots (+2) of Striking Looks for those attracted to women.
When the burning gaze of the sun sank away and shadows fell upon the world, those things with teeth crept out to join the night. Lucifer could feel them gnashing as she strode down the sidewalk, could see their glint between the lips of the men who eyed her like a piece of prized mutton, could hear the grinding of enamel as she passed the women whose instincts screamed at them to shed blood in the name of their territory.
This was a mistake. She should have gotten a driver.
Were those footsteps she heard, matching her pace? The scuff of shoe leather for each click of her heels upon the concrete?
Eyes like those of the goat swept up and down the street, searching for a place outside of the shadows, a place to shelter against the chill that came with falling leaves. Her decision made, turned into a doorway upon her left and, with a moment to summon the armor of beauty, she strode into the Dive Bar. Her footfalls fell in time like those of a dancer, not too slow, not too fast. Couldn't betray the feel of that chill, couldn't betray knowledge of those gnashing teeth. Would it follow her inside?
She didn't even notice the "mermaid" swimming above her as she strode to the bar, the perfect image of smoldering, unapproachable majesty. Some animals bared their teeth when cornered. Lucifer was no different, though it was her beauty that cut, not the pitiful fangs behind her lips.
"Agree with you there, I was expecting somewhere dirtier." A nod along with the statement. Someone had had fun with naming this place. "Good to meet you Lawrence, Echo." It rolls out smoothly. Clearly Echo is not a weird name to Chris. The half-a-man almost asks their thoughts on how much someone would get paid to pretend to be a mermaid but stops himself. Tonight is for relaxing, not business. There's no not seeing the next women that enters the bars though. Damn. Yes, Chris is staring.
Echo
"There are dive bars, and then there are dive bars" said with an exagerated flick of her fingers, gesturing around their venue. It was missing the pointed slice of her broken glass claws, but eh, she'd make do. These were poor, (un)fortunate glamour bags after all.
There's a pout as Scruffy says Intense Stare's name. Lawrence. Law-rence. Lawly? Rence? She could probably put a paw somewhere in there....oh-ohohoh!
Without thought Echo's hand comes up and she pat-smacks the one closer to her - Scruffy - "Oh ma gawd! Are you seeing this?! Is she real? Is this happening?!" somewhere in the middle of that, Echo stood, hands on the table, angling closer to the goddess, without thinking her knee hits the table next as she pulls herself halfway up the table trying to get a better look. "Holy fuck." she breathes before putting her hands together for a (near) standing ovation.
"Echo. That's an unusual moniker. Do you play music?" he muses aloud. Only three types of people in the world have names like that: the famous, the infamous, and those seeking the attention the former two have acquired. Thoughts turn, briefly, to Twist. Wondering how she earned such a name.
The interaction is becoming more... interesting.
The play between the spider and seemingly laid back, approachable, scruffy Chris was a dichotomy.
The introduction of an attractive, somewhat flippant Echo turns things into a kind of social 'melee a trois' - ironic that the easily defeated French could be credited with such a term for war.
But now, as every eye in the group turns towards a newcomer who in no uncertain terms commands their attention... the interaction may quickly devolve. Sharks, drawn by blood. Circling for the kill. And this unnamed beauty awakens desires Taft had long since buried and forgotten. It is lust.
Remembering himself, he responds "I understand where you're coming from. And yes, I believe what you're seeing is real." A small, predatory smile appears on the Shadow's lips.
Lucifer ignored the stares she received, ignored the foundering mermaid above her, ignored even the annoying echo of palms smacking each other from somewhere down the bar. Instead, her eyes bore mercilessly into those of the bartender, the man's throat working in a convulsive swallow. Yes, make him tremble. She was not the prey. She was the predator, as beautiful and terrible as the morn. Let all love her and despair!
"Seltzer and juice of the cranberry," she declared, her peculiar voice slithering from her lips and snaring the attention of all around her like rabbits caught on barbed wire.
Leaving the servant to pour the drink with shaking hands, Lucifer finally turned away from him, her eyes sweeping over the bar, finally taking in the trio whose eyes were so fixed on her. Was it because she hadn't hardened her mask? Had she been flushed like a fox from it's warren, walking unwittingly into a trap?
A shiver shot down Lucifer's spine, but she refused to give in to the frantic patter of her heart. She was what they should fear!
Stalking over to the waiting three, Lucifer's hand trailing down the length of the bar, she set her capticlvating lips into a smirk.
"I'm not interrupting date night, am I?"
A Darkling is back on the prowl: jeans, boots, hooded shirt. The bar is new to her, evident by the wrinkled nose as she enters; and the surprised look at the Mermaid in her tank. Ingrid blinks several times - and its not just about getting her eyes used to the dim interior.Echo - and then the unknown Shadowsoul - draw her attention. Her forehead wrinkles into a frown and she makes her way over to the bar. What is it with the sudden surge of... travellers... these days?
Echo
"Nope!" blithely popping her 'p'. "Friend of mine has the voice of a fucking angel. Me. Tone deaf~" she sing-songs, (it's not pretty.)
"Noooo," she purs, angling closer. eyes raking over every inch of sink and cloth, milk might have soured but mmm, damned if she didn't want to eat her up. "Not at all. I'd happily make this a foursome, just say the word." she says, leaning back and eyeing each of them. Scruffy on the left, this Goddess on the right, Law-rence withi that mmmmm! stare whatching them....yes fucking please. "I'm Echo," then looking at the candle light in her eyes, she adds, "Hashtag Team Verdant." with a wink
The plums herald the sovereign, slouching, she pouts. This means she'll have to share. poop. She contemplates saying nothing and being a moody silent bitch. But she's not a K9, and waves calling over her queen. "Ingrid! Hell-looo!"
Chris returns Lucifer's smirk with a toothy grin. "Not at all. Please join us." A hand waves towards an open chair. The shadow takes a sip of his beer. This night keeps getting better and better. Eyes flick to Echo as she goes straight to the fun point. Damn. The glass settles back onto the table as Chris lets out a slow breath. Team Verdant must be some new things for the humans, hopefully not another trashy vampire flick. Chris leans back in his chair to take a look at whoever this Ingrid is.
Not music, then. Just a breather claiming a a one word name associated with sound. And, sadly, not with vocal talent. “Pity.” Is his response.
This captivating thing. This... delicacy. She speaks to the group with the confidence of chattel unaware of the slaughter. This further seeks to inflame Taft’s long buried desires.
“I agree. As they say, the more the merrier.” He adds, eyes boring deeply into the intoxicating beauty. She should be blessed, really: only a Shadow could afford her such attention. Life and lusts may be but memories, but every detail of her being would be acknowledged. Right down to the taste of her blood.
The pretty-but-flippant Echo further digs a pit by speaking in cryptic language that must belong to some youth subculture. ‘Hashtag Team Verdant’. Further complicating issues, Echo introduces yet another player in the game. Prey use crowds - numbers - for safety. Anonymity amidst masses of bodies.
And this Ingrid? Yet another Californian beauty. But, thus far, none of his companions exude the taint of the Beast. It would seem Kindred an Kine alike share this blessing of supernatural beauty. Sacramento’s significance is unquestioned. Pity he knows not why. Yet.
“What brings everyone here?” He asks. The prey’s herd has thickened, now. Overtly singling one of them out would raise alarms. Send them into a panic. Still, he cannot tear his gaze away from the nonpareil newcomer for long. What does she call herself? Ah. Pertinent to ask. “We’ve all offered names, but haven’t heard your own. My name is Lawrence. These charming people are Echo, Chris, and apparently Ingrid.”
#Verdant...was that...did this mean...but then the energetic, platinum blonde was calling out to someone behind her, callings out to this "Ingrid", and Lucifer turned to stare at the approaching woman with the spectral rack of antlers as she drew near. Was it real? Was this beautiful, rubbery creature truly the queen of Spring, or could this be some sort of goblin illusion? Lucifer froze for a moment, then turned abruptly as the bartender set down her drink. There was only one way through this.
Keeping the predatory grin on her face, the shadowsoul turned back to Lawrence , deigning to sate his curiosity.
"You may call me Luci," the cursed woman said, the pitch of her voice rising and falling to tease the ear with even just those few syllables.
"Shall we make a toast?" she suggested, raising her drink. "A promise to each other, of what we expect for the night?"
"Well. Look at you." Ingrid purrs as she joins the group, having swung by the bar and obtained a bottle of beer. Her eyes are for Lucifer only - and most likely not in the way the non-fae of the gathering are thinking. The Vernal Sovereign finds space for herself and slithers in; only the truly Lost could appreciate the disturbing ripple effect from the shadows as her shadowy 'weight' makes itself manifest.
"Well I'm here to have a drink," Ingrid continued with a dry wit. "Call me Ingrid," she added as if the introductions had not already been given.
"Echo hasn't been giving you grief, I trust?" The Darkling let her gaze slide across the table. They find Chris - again, not in the way most people think. This Ingrid is still at heart the P.I. She spots a soul with similar gifts and interests.
A laugh, "I might have." she admits to her Queen, feeling th urge to crack the glamour hardened shell of her Mask and let Luci see the beauty, that the terror and blood of She Who Mauls had given her. But right now, the night was young, introductions have just been made, Desire had yet to truly bloosom.....it would have just been a waste of glamour.
"To cheap booze, and a wonderful night to...cum!" she toats, giggling at her own play on words.
Man may not drink but he knows what questions to ask. Luci. Kind of old school right? Sexy. Anywhere else Ingrid could also catch Chris taking a look for a moment or two too long. Chris locks gazes with Ingrid for the moment her gaze falls past him. Interesting people. He chuckles and shakes his head. "Grief? no." Then Echo lets out her..flirt. "Heh, except for that. That's fun though." A toothy grin as Chris raises his own glass in response to Luci. "To those we've left behind and those we're meeting tonight." The not-a-man may not be a Speaker of his people but hanging around bloody people does let you learn a bit of word play.
"To cheap booze..." And down the hatch.
This was a particularly bad idea when Echo adds her own distinctive spin to the toast. The Vernal Sovereign is left spluttering and gasping for air.
“Luci? Lucille, then?” He presses. It was a beautiful name in his time. Made more popular years later when television became a thing.
“Of course. Silly question.” he says with a thin smile at Ingrid. A much simpler and easier to explain reason than his own. A brow quirks lightly at this Ingrid’s question. Grief isn’t the word he would use. Though Echo’s... unusual flair for words brings it close. The spider would rather share a ‘drink’ with her than hear her speak.
With no drink in his hand, he simply responds to the toast with a polite dip of his head. Chris’ toast turns his head for a moment. A drifter, maybe? Someone with a storied past, certainly. His blood might have songs to sing.
But now, back to the hunt. “Forgive me, Luci, for being so bold... what does a beauty like yourself expect from an evening like tonight?” A very direct question. Testing the waters.
"I..." Lucifer said slowly, forcing herself gaze to move slowly from one face to another, forcing her hands to lie steady upon her drink as she raised it. "I hope to find some amusement tonight."
She shot a wink at the shameless, grinning woman with hair like platinum. Manipulate her. Draw on her vices. Exploit them to gain Power. A simple equation.
Echo cackles, even as her Queen sputters, snorting she hands the Darkling a few bar napkins. "I don't think the fellas will appreciate this spittake demo darling."
The wink, Mmm! recives a grin, all teeth and cherry red lips. Were her tail visible it would give a satisfied flick.
"So," she nearly purs, "All of our motives lay clear....now. WHat are we going to do about them...?"
Chat Shard, copied from Discord chat, Scene began May 25.
Cayce , Kelreth , Travisc06489 , @Lucifer , Lawrence Taft , Echo , Chris Laurent