A Prefect Evening

[Schon]

Lenny arrived at the Rage dressed in a green dress shirt and jeans with a black vest. A bit above the norm but not noticably so and the same trilby he wore before perched on his head at a rakish tilt. Maybe he'd been watching too much "White Collar" but at least he wasn't wearing a thin tie. Comfortable shoes were on his feet and he studied the dancers from the bar mentally memorizing and piecing together a 'style' with his natural ability to dance well. This wasn't a club he frequented but had been here before and had rarely if ever seen other Kindred.

Swirling the Yellow Tail chiraz he let it wet his lips and considered the dry, slightly bitter flavor as he waited.

[Ciara Maskelyne]

*Ciara arrives a short time later. She had never been to the club before; and it was rather disturbing how many Kine were around. Or perhaps it was the lack of other Kindred, she keeps glancing around for the familiar whimper of lesser Beasts. The whole place put her one edge for some reason; Lenny had poor taste in clubs as far as she was concerned.

She was dressed rather differently from her conservative Court attire; she didn't know much about the club other than it was some sort of punky/rocky place. She finally decided a Catholic school girl gone bad look would be the best way to fit and and disappear into the mass of humans; knee-high ass kicker boots with 4 inch platforms, short plaid skirt that almost makes it impossible to set down and still keep Victoria's Secret, and a loosely buttoned white shirt two sizes too large so that it hung off her shoulders.

It takes a few moments for her to find the other Carthian in the Crowd; the Masked Beast of the man failing to call out to her's in defiance. She makes her way over to Lenny.* Good evening...

[Schon]

"Getting there," Lenny answered with a smile. By her dress he'd made the right decision he doubted if the ensemble had ever been worn at Avalon. Not that he was egomaniacal enough to think it was *for him* because he doubted the woman was any less meticulous with her own appearance as she was with Elysium.

"You're playing so cool, obeying every rule. I'll bet way down in your heart you're burning, yearning for songs; somebody to tell you that life ain't passing you by. I'm trying to tell you it will if you don't even try," he added amusement clear in his eyes.

"I don't suppose you polka?"

[Ciara Maskelyne]

*It takes Ciara a moment to realize Lenny is reciting lyrics to a song, then she smiles a little.* God I miss the 80's. Greed, excess, big money, big cars... Don't miss the shoulder pads though. You could land a Sopwith on those things... *She gives an exagerated shudder; whatever her position in the city, the Ventrue was still a fashionista at heart.*

And no, I don't polka. A nice jig or reel perhaps; but I firmly believe the accordion belongs only on a ship's deck.

[Schon]

"I'll save my tears for the circus monkeys," Lenny noted grimly. "You're a cold woman."

His expression turned considering as he mulled through the men's fashions. Short shorts, pastels and ultrabrite, parachute pants, half-and-half shirts, the mullet, not wearing socks, rolling jeans... no matter what women thought, men were definitely the butt of the fashion joke of that decade.

"And never a tear for sleeveless shirts," he finally decided.

The smile was back and he cocked his head towards the dance floor.

"Would you show me a reel? I promise if you say 'yes' I'll amuse you with my attempts to learn."

[Ciara Maskelyne]

Hmm, listen to "The Hills of Connemara" played on a squeeze box and see if you don't agree with me... *She says softly as she glances down at the drink list. She tosses it back at the bartender in disgust after only a few seconds; no decent whiskeys and too many vodkas. A waste of perfectly good potatoes in her opinion.*

If men were meant to wear sleeveless shirts, they would shave their armpits like we have to. Otherwise it all looks too damed French... *It's only after speaking that Ciara begins to realize how many men in the club indeed had shaved armpits, if not their whole bodies. She was about to comment on this little fact when Lenny makes his offer; and it honestly leaves the brunette dumb struck for a moment. She stares at the man for a moment, then laughs to break the awkward silence that follows.*

I'm afraid this is the wrong kind of music, Mr Pope. You need more fiddles, and a lot more whiskey before you can do it justice. It requires a lot of room, you tend to be a little drunk while doing it...

[Schon]

There is a brief flicker in Lenny's eyes as fiddles are mentioned perhaps a slight oversight after being stared at. For the tiniest fraction of a second it's a reminder of the strong Blood. While he might have calmed his Beast, it was still wary for any odd behavior. It made him wonder if she knew the Mask or eschewed it as a warning or insurance of addition personal space.

In an instant the look is gone though and he considers the Ventrue and the dance floor apprasingly. "Very well, I accept your, ah, warning," he finally answered. "Shall we continue this at O'Malley's?"

If Ciara agrees he will offer his arm.

[Ciara Maskelyne]

*Ciara notes the ever so slight twinge from the other Kindred, but makes no remark on it. She does quirk one of her thin eyebrows at the mention of the bar though.* O'Malley's? It isn't one of those horribly done-up American versions of a proper pub is it? Little sparkly shamrocks and Boston sports clubs everywhere? I swear, is it too much to ask that each city leaves at least one good public house standing for a hundred years or so?

[Schon]

There's a half smile tugging at one side of Lenny's mouth as if he's considering whether or not this is a stall tactic or he's met the pickiest person in the tri-state area. Either way he arrives at the conclusion that she'll most like hate O'Malley's on principle and accuse him of foisting a Bennigan's off on her.

"OK, you win," he says looking around and dropping into a sotto voce as if sharing the formula for Coca-Cola. "I'll teach you the secret handshake and location of de Vere's public house."

It would also be interesting to see if she had Auspex and could smell the Irish redwoods.

[Ciara Maskelyne]

"I'm afraid I've never heard of the place. I was hoping for a more casual atmosphere if you wished to talk..." *She normally didn't mind loud clubs, but it was so hard to carry on a conversation over a bass line.*