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Enzo grabs his drink as it is offered to him and then feels a buzz in his pants. Looking down at his phone, he mentally face-palms at what he reads. He had no idea what to even say to that. He shoots back a quick responce, and then he then spots another 'ling. Real Fighter-y looking guy, like those dudes in 300, even has the helmet. The first thing he thinks is Summer and has a pause. He isn't sure what to do, and with typical fluidity, he makes his way over to him. "Whats up?"
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The DJ puts on a new song...
...and leaves the booth. He passes by Terros and Aurum, making the 'shut it off/kill it' sign of waving his hand across his throat.
Stopping by Spartan he looks at him intently. "You a cop?"
[banner]jammer[/banner]
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For as long as Sean O'Neill had been in Sacramento he did not know how he had failed to notice The Rage. For once it was nice to walk into a club and not immediately enter into some involuntary pissing contest with a nearby vampire, and, I mean, sure, it was a club and they were playing club music, but it sounded like the DJ had a bit more taste than most in his business.
He was dressed in a black button-up shirt, and matching shoes and pants. His sleeves are rolled up to display his tattoos and his red mohawk rides proudly on top of his head. On his forehead is a small, but distinct, crescent moon shaped scar
The real draw for Sean was the crowd of youthful Kine, throwing off their inhibitions and enjoying life as best as they could reckon it. The sight of them, roiling to the music and reveling in their drinks and drugs, made Sean grin.
These people held much that Sean desired. Blood, sex, and even money. He had brought with him a handsome supply of Cocaine, Ecstasy, and a few other staples of the club scene - all packaged for quick, easy sale to interested bodies.
So he makes his way into the thick of the dance floor, becoming one with the crush of bodies as he had done so many times before. Even if it wasn't his normal scene he felt the exhilaration, tangible in the air, and could almost smell the hot, pumping Blood in the mortals all around him.
After dancing some, and making a few quick deals, he makes his way over to the bar. He frowns a bit, noticing that it seemed to be a complete and utter sausage-fest over here - but then his expression changes when he notices the petite, gothy exception.
Sean walks over and sits down in the barstool on the opposite side of Aurum as Terros. He grins at her "Hey, there. I'm Sean. Buy you a drink?"
He acts as if he honestly did not even notice Terros sitting there.
"Hello Elf," Spartan says as he turns his head to the Dancer. He looks the dancer up and down, seeing his soft hand and unscared features he takes the man as not much of a warrior. But then again the Winter who stabbed the Valkyrie didn't look it either. Spartan reminded himself not to judge a book by his cover. Spartan's eyes glow a red as he looks to the elf his gray skin shadowed under his Hoplite's Helm.
As the DJ asks his question Spartan turns, "No" Spartan says "I am not a police officer. Just hear to enjoy the music."
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"Ay, mon, let's see you enjoy it, then," the DJ replies with a grin, and juts his head towards the dance floor.
It's a teeming mass of late teenagers and young adults, moving to the music and against and with one another.
"No Thank you I am just listening." Spartan says
He did not know that sitting and listening to music was a crime in this city. Was he not allowed to sit and drink?
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"Get up and dance or go buy an iPod."
Spartan leaves.
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Enzo listens as the conversation between the DJ and Spartan go on. He remains silent, sipping his drink with a small smile. Damn this guy was uptight. Loosen up, enjoy yourself, have a little fun. He thought to himself as he watched him begin to leave.
He looks at Jammer, rolling his eyes in a "some people are just wierd" look, and smiles, finishing his drink quickly, he heads after Spartan. "We're supposed to roll in groups, seems that Summer went apeshit." He says, quietly but just loud enough to be heard despite the music.
"Yes I am aware, I was there." Spartan says as he steps out side and looks around. "Spartan." He extends his hand to the smaller man. "And I was not told to travel in groups." Spartan begins to walk down the street. In his stride it was as if he was on a mission.
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