Evening, and welcome to Slept So Long, a literate, demon and vampire centric role play. An RP started by myself and Ise on Gaia, however, at this point we have since gone on to the greener pastures of Menew, and thus, need a new place to continue our story.

Our apologies that for the next little while we would like to keep this strictly between the two of us, until we can get the ball moving and the story flowing again. It took us damn long to plot this, so if you read on and are interested, feel free to apply at the following link.

http://www.menewsha.com/viewtopic.php?t=4528 (*note: Currently closed to new members, but if interested please watch the topic for future openings)

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Time Period: Modern to post modern
Placement: New York City

Synopsis: When creation started, everything was new and at peace as all the creatures of the world explored the various tiers of lands and what they could do. Heavenly bodies took to the skies while those of less admirable intent descended toward a lower space to continue with their own activities while the frail and ever so easily persuaded mortals resided on the land in between, ever to bounce back and forth.

For centuries the balance was maintained, both lower and higher having their arenas of specific influence without being able to directly touch the middle ground unless specifically invited and drawn by the humans they so watched over.

But as more time passed, all peoples grew restless, expanding and feeling even more confined. Greed touches all, no matter the claims to purity and doing things for the good of everyone else. Both Heaven and Hell began to fall prey to trying to expand influence, ever snarling at one another. But to truly do so, it would require moving to the mortal plane and then eventually the final plane on the other side. But humans had to invite them with their lives.

By their code of conduct, such a feat was inconceivable to the Heavens - countless lives would have to be lost and the ground painted red with their blood. But to the hellspawn...such a blessedly wonderful opportunity that would barely satiate hunger and bloodlust.

And so it began, the whispers of power, prestige, money...it was ever so easy to sway the human heart. The Crusades had been the first carefully schemed and implemented plot, the first protal to the middle plane opened with countless lives lost with their souls as fodder to the upcoming demons who took their place. But that wouldn't be enough. Most any large scale war were beloved pet plots, widening the openings and creating new places. The more lives taken the better.

And now, in the modern century, the Heavens yet remain unable to do a thing. Secularism has outweighed belief in them, weakened their abilities. Instead hellspawn roam the Earth, perhaps halfway through the steady progress of making it theirs. Everywhere the eye might look to a person there is the potential for a demon. Humans continue on in their oblivious nature, unaware that night by night they are being replaced and they encounter only those who would love to kill and assimilate them.

Lucifer has taken grip of the mortals with an iron hand around the throat. His kind own the vast majority corporations of the world, inducing terrorism and all kinds of warfare, be it political or biological, though he himself has not been able to enter the mortal realm yet. Instead he sends his people to do his dirty work, each more gleeful than the last for the touch of freedom.

There are as many kinds of demons as one might think, though rarely are they anything but pure breed and occassionally a half breed. Most are there for the slaughter, but some for a more...profitable means of recruitment. After all, why wait for the souls to descend and be reborn when you can simply change the current corporeal form? Vampires and Lycans are among the most prevalent and high class of these parasitic demons, seen more often than people realize.

They continue to roam, to do their work and slowly Lucifer gains his territory, goading his bretheren above, laughing at their supposedly inability to do anything.

Rules:And we come to the rules, the stuff we all hate but know there needs to be for order. I know there seems to be a lot of them, but bear in mind it's all really under 2 main things: decent literacy and common courtesy as a person.

+ Literacy is your friend. No, really. We don't ask a ton, check below.
- Format, for the love of pie! Seriously, it's not that hard and if you forget just open a bleepin' book! Separate paragraphs for different character actions, quotation (" ") marks for speech and all that jazz. Do not denote actions with asterisks (*) please or We'll cry and run away! Or maybe whack you with a bamboo rod.
Ex. Yoki walked down the stairs. NOT *Walks down stairs*
- Spelling and grammar are not evil. Yeah, we all make some typos here and there, no big. If you have a major issue with it, there's always typing it out in Word with the spellcheck, no? We're not going to go correcting you or anything, but it is appreciated that more than half a sentence is readable.
- One liners are rarely appropriate. In the instance of conversation, ok you can very easily have a one liner, but add another paragraph or something. The more you give people the more they can give back. We don't expect a book from you (ourselves, on the other hand....), but put the effort in and you'll be rewarded well.

+ Common bloody courtesy applies! What's this entail? Read below or I'll get cranky.
- If you PM/IM/post in the thread to us about the RP and wanting to join, be serious about it! It can really raise a person's hopes to get characters in and then you forget about it. We won't go chasing you down, it's against our nature to make a nuisance of ourselves.
- Common courtesy in general! This includes being friendly to everyone, no flame wars or anything that intentionally hurts someone else for the sake of being mean rather than talking things out. If you have a problem, take it to PMs or we will ask you to leave.
- Post hopefully once a week? We're not going to jump on you if you can't, but please try not to go more than two weeks, especially if you have someone who interacts with you a lot. Things will happen and you'll get behind, as well as that person potentially. It's just not fun to have to watch things go by while waiting for someone you're currently engaging in a scene with.
- Don't ignore the other players in your scene range. They're usually looking for someone to interact with, too. It's not too much fun soloing it through, this is a group roleplay after all.

Reserved in case of a necessity I forgot. x_x

It was Saturday night, and despite the chill outside the air was thick and warm within the thundering walls of the hidden, but well known nightclub. Eclipse was at its prime on the weekend and there were people eagerly awaiting entry, not even bothering to complain at standing and shivering outside in the brisk November air.

House music was blaring from within and people were milling and wandering, having to shout to be heard over the song that Mark was spinning out, head nodding in the back over the turn tables and equalizer. A decent amount were swaying and gyrating on the wooden floor at the front, some up on the stage that frequented bands on weeknights.

A large amount were obviously swarming around the bars, in particlar the central one. On one side, Dale was hard pressed to meet the demands, whirling about to grab bottles and ice or reaching above to the rack that hung suspended from the ceiling for a clean glass. Between the calls of customers and the orders of the waitresses who consistently made their rounds, bringing more slips before hurrying to put dirty glasses in the kitchen to be washed, the cute and flirtatious young bartender was wracking up some good tips.

The bartenders at the other two smaller bars, lit with neon behind them, were just as busy. One was situated to the right of the dance floor, almost across from the dj booth and in front of one of the two hidden sets of stairs to the second floor. The other was in the back on the left on the second floor, just a tiny turn when one went up the main staircase. To the right of it was another small dance floor where a regular was twisting and dancing with two glowsticks on a long string. To those on the first floor he produced a great light show, although induced by a fair dose of Ecstacy.

Those who weren't dancing or at the bars wandered about talking sat at the booths lit with black lights or played pool in the back. No one seemed to mind the dense air of smoke or booze. Then again, it was easy enough to forget about five minutes of being inside.

The wind blew in from nowhere, expressing it's dominance of the dimly lit street in full force, whipping about the spastic bangs of two youths on the corner.

The shorter of the youth, a female, stood with her hands on her hips, lips pursed and eyebrows narrowed in deep contemplation.

"This is the place," she murmured, jutting her arms out awkwardly and wringing at her wrists to produce two small, elegantly manicured hands from their engulfing black sleeves, and reaching up to upturn the collar of her black trenchcoat, then brushing a solid length of brunette hair behind her ear nonchalantly. It was all about the image, oh yes. Dark, mysterious, instant sex appeal.

The other, to her right, and easily twice her size and then some, was unconvinced. A male, he stood with his arms folded, head tipped to the side accusingly, eyebrow cocked, threatening looking bangs jutting out to look all the more unnerving. "Are you sure?" He questioned, giving the building a disapproving once over.

"Well, not really, but we're going in anyways!" She brought her fist to her palm, as if to emphasis her point. "Besides, this place is supposed to have the best music in the city, we have to at least check it out~" And she said this, dragging out the last few words for further unneeded emphasis.

"Of course, why do I even bother asking any more?" The tall male sighed and shook his head, it was useless to argue anyways, once she had her mind set on something, that was it. At least so long as he was along, there was a chance she wouldn't get in trouble. There was also a greater chance that being with her, he would.

"I just don't know." She grinned, tugging at his hand and leading him towards the entrance. "C'mon~ let's g'it in there already!"

"Wah..." The youth started, skidding and attempting to dig his heels in the ground to keep from being completely dragged. "But, I don't- I- I'm not sure this is a good idea..."

The girl rolled her eyes. "Relax 'Kiyo-chan, it'll be fine. S'not like we're going to get caught under age or anything, so just come along and have some fu-- Ohh..." She released his hand, and stopped walking, staring ahead at a rather large, and not so friendly bouncer, standing outside the entrance. "Shit."

Anxiety was already making itself present in her partner's expression. "Y'see! I told you this was a bad idea!"

"Hrm," the girl shook her head, already thoroughly recomposed. "Not a bad idea, just, a set back. Nothing to worry about."

"Set back? Nothing to worry about!" Akiyo sputtered, trying to get the strange words to wrap around his nervous mind. "You can't be serious. If this is a 'set back' Line, I'd hate to know what really gets you down. There's no way we can go on now."

"You probably would. And of course there is. Where there's a will, there's a way, right? Well m'dear, I think I've already thought of a way." The was almost a purr to her voice, a diabolical ploy already making it's way onto her mind. "Come."

Akiyo opened his mouth to protest, but found himself quickly silenced as the wind was nearly knocked out of him and his partner was quickly ushering him off to a back alley way. There was no use at this point, but to close his eyes and pray to the gods that he didn't die tonight. Once Crystaline Ikoda was set in her ways, there was little to stop her; and that never ended well. For anyone.

The alley she had lead them to, did little to improve his fears. Stereotypical alley to a tee. Dank, dark, musty, and rat infested. A sickeningly sweet smell wafted it's way to Akiyo's nose, and he was forced to hold is breath, trying his best not to imagine what the smell could possibly be from.

"And just what do you think we'll accomplish here?"

The brunette rolled her eyes again, letting out an exagerated sigh, inspecting the building. "What, do I have to provide all the answers for you, or can you get a few yourself?" She scanned up the side wall intently--there, hah, just above the dumpster! "Ahh, Ki my boy, I am a genius. An alternative entrance, duh." She placed both hands on the ends of the dumpster, shamefully having to stand on her tippy toes to do so. "Now help me..."

"Sneaking in. You have got to be kidding me. We've reached a new low? And besides, you don't even know where that leads!" His voice was incredulous, this was insane, even for her.

"Then don't come with me, just give me a boost." She hoisted herself up onto the dumpster, gazing up intently at an open window.

Akiyo sighed. How did she always do this? And why did he always fall for it on top of it? "Well, hold on... " He muttered, also climbing up on the dumpster.

"I knew you wouldn't let me down." She beamed at him.

"Yeah, right..." He rolled his eyes. "More like I don't want you spending 5-9 for B and E, let alone under age drinking."

"Oh, I doubt it's that long..."

"Not the point."

"Don't really care. Help me reach the ledge." With some less than gentle prodding, the auburn haired male, crouched down to allow the brunette to climb onto his shoulders.

"Just be careful..."

"Always am. Ahh..." Feeling the ledge underneath her palm, she brought the sole of her foot to the brick wall and did her best to shimmy her way up the remainder of the way, til her upper body was dangling desperately off the edge. She peered inside. A bathroom! Her luck couldn't get much better. "We're in the clear..." She grinned.

"Well isn't that a relief..." Akiyo shook his head, nudging Line's foot further up. She swung her left leg over the edge.

"K, now all I need to do is to climb down on that toilet. Then I'll swing my jacket out over the window, and you can grab onto that, okay?"

"Like I have a choice?"

"Of course not."

"Then okay."

Crystaline leaned over the edge a little and gave Akiyo a wide smile. "Buh bye." She waved and disappeared from view on the other side of the window, shoes landing awkwardly on the seat of a toilet. "Gods, don't let me slip. I'd hate to explain that one." She looked back up at the window. "Okay Ki!," she called, taking off her jacket and wringing it up. "Alley oop!" And with that, a black trench coat was swung over the side of the window, less than gracefully thwacking a waiting Ki in the forehead. He grabbed on as Line began tugging the other end, and put his feet on either side of the wall, scrambling up til he was in the window.

"Hello there."

"Took you long enough." Line backed down off the toilet, allowing the male to climb down. Once they were both securely on solid ground, Line fixed her hair and put her jacket back on, looking around.

"Gods it smells in here, but it looks relatively clean. Must be the women's bathroom."

"Lucky me," Ki groaned.

"Hey, you're scrawny and girly, maybe no one will notice the difference."

"Very funny."

"I thought so."

"Besides, there's still the matter of age, how are you going to worm your way through that one?"

"Got it covered!" Line chirped, digging in to one of her jacket pockets, and pulling out a strange, dark coloured eyebrow pencil.

"What the hell is that for?"

"You'll see. Now hold still..."

Akiyo flinched, as she neared on him. "Why do I suddenly feel an impending sense of dread."

Crystaline shrugged. "You brought me as your date. Oh, but if anyone asks, we're not here together, we just came together."

"Right, but--" And at that moment he was cut off, as she neared even closer, he could swear he could almost see a set of devil horns protruding from pointed brunette bangs, and the girl cackled.

"This is going to be fun..."

---

Akiyo stumbled out of the women's bathroom, thoroughly miffed, and quickly peeked around to make sure no one noticed. "I can understand drawing a bit of stubble on me, I really can... But was the beard for yourself really neccessary?"

The girl shrugged, amused. "I thought it made me look distinguished."

"Or insane."

"Either way, works for me." Line stood back, taking in the place for the first time. An intoxicating warmth filled the air, as music pounded in her ears so loudly she could barely hear herself think, and bodies swayed and moved every which way around them. "Now come, there's fun to be had, and I needs me a drink." She rubbed her hands together, and began making her way to the nearest bar. Oh yes, this night would be fun.

"What?" Ki strained himself to hear, cupping his ear, but it was too late, and he skittered behind to catch up with the already heading off female. "We're so doomed..." he mumbled to himself.

It was twelve or so by the time the duo had made it inside the dingy building - not that all of the buildings weren't like that now, aside from the inner city anyway. Pollution had made them dirty over the years. And then there was the added graffiti of several generations - well, it made the area look like some ghetto from a Hollywood movie.

A sleek black and violet motorcycle had come to a speedy stop in a narrow parking space in the lot across the street a block away from the brick building. The long figure astride it detached itself and a leather gloved hand reached up to tug the helmet off the person's head, letting long raven waves tumble down. Moonlight bounced off the chunky red strips reminiscent of carefully poured fresh blood turned highlights.

Stuffing keys in her pocket, the young woman headed toward the club. She paused at the edge of the lot, looking on either side of the dirty street before she darted across, narrowly avoiding being hit by a car that suddenly sped by. To the curse shouted out the window at her she simply flipped the bird casually without so much as turning to look.

The cement was craggy and split at best beneath feet clad in knee high laced boots with a good five inch heel, but the tall girl - had to at least be five feet eleven inches without the boots - moved steadily along without so much as her toe stubbing on the cracked portions.

The girl gave a nod to the imposing figure of the bouncer at the top of the steps that lead down to the doorway. People were beginning to form the line to get in. Casually giving them a small half-smile she walked right on down without so much as a hand blocking her path by Dan. Despite the stares, he just cast her a backwards wave and returned to demanding IDs.

It was prime time hours and everything was culminating to the most explosive night of the week for the club. Sure, it was open every night, but weekdays were more sedate. They were over under, housing some local bands who were trying to make it and infamous club closed at an earlier hour. Many did not like to brave the likes of the eighteen to twenty year olds who were just starting out in the night life. Fridays were a good night, but it was really Saturday that was the party night.

And by twelve the place was fully awake and booming with life, wretched and wonderful at the same time. Innocents and the putrid filth of not so innocent men and women mingled together.

As the girl slipped inside, shrugging out of a well fitted leather jacket, she passed the people paying the door fee and tossed it clear over their heads. A pretty blonde woman caught it, waving the dark haired girl onward before returning to the people waiting in line. Talk about VIP treatment.

She wore a corset that laced in front and exposed a decent amount of skin while doing nothing to make her figure smaller than it already was. The stripes were thick and hid the fifteen odd some pieces of ribbing that made it fit her so well and came over her shoulders. Her upper arms were hugged by two matching sleeves to the corset, black with a strip of red down the center. The left was buckled at the top and at the lower arm, hiding the red somewhat while the right arm flaunted it more, laced all the way down, similar to the laces of the corset. It left a good portion of her long midrift bare, and the low riding black leather pants did little to help hide it, resting snug against toned thighs and flaring slightly at the bottom in a boot cut.

She wove her way through spaces she could find on the floors lit with red-violet lights. The club was packed, which was expected tonight. People were milling around with various drinks and shouting to be heard over the music. It was already the hours of harrassing the bartenders for more booze and the DJ for louder music. There were several types of them, too. The stumbling drunk, the slurring drunk, the silly drunk - which were preferred for their ease in dealing with - to name a few.

It was also the hours for fights to spontaneously break out thanks to said drinking. There was never any lack of people being turned away outside, nor fights each week for the bouncers to break up. Every weekend there were a couple of people thrown out with a warning. The club prided itself in being safer, at least in that respect. It wasn't to say that there likely wasn't drug dealing going on as well, but people were more discreet about that at least. There had yet to be a bust within the soundproofed walls.

Threading her way among the sea of supple figures, Yokiko made her way past the main bar, glancing with an approving nod at the waitress who was dumping a bucket of cash into the gigantic panda that hung on top of the rack suspended from the ceiling. It was early preparation for the New Year's blow out that would be upon them in little over a month now. Things were getting busy.

Practically loping up the small set of steps to the raised portion of the floor, the long legged girl moved down the small hallway in the front left all of three or four steps and swung into the equipment room which was little more than a long closet to house a locked cabinet with some specifics of the djs and some extra speakers and the like on the other side. She didn't even bother to knock on the door to the dj booth itself - which actually had a rather large splintered indent where some idiot's head had been smashed into it - and headed in.

"Hey Mark. Your rounds up, my turn," came the bold voice.

The man who had been bent over a large book of cds turned to grin languidly at her, "And here I thought you'd left the night to me, you're late Yoki."

"Yeah, I know," she waved a hand before placing it on an exposed hip, "Had some traffic issues. Fact remains...get the hell out of here, it's my round. I have to support myself somehow, you know."

The older man, who stood maybe an inch or two over the slim young woman, luckily didn't take an offense to that. Instead he laughed, "Going, going."

The girl had unlocked the cabinet while he gathered his things and pulled out a well worn set of studio headphones, placing them around her neck. She lugged out a large case of several hundred cds and plopped it with a heavy thud on the counter after Mark had taken his things and waved on his way out. She soon had placed the cd binders out beneath the black light.

Yoki listened a moment to the music playing at the moment and nodded to herself. Plugging in her headphones, she spun around to flip through the left binder, plucking out a violet cd. ATB.

Whirling back she slid it into the second cd turntable and put the left side of the headphones on, slowly spinning the cd turn table with the ATB mixes in it as she cued it in and out. Slowly the strains of The Killer 2000 began to come out. She had been carefully working on mastering the skill of cueing in a song so the listeners couldn't tell where one stopped and another began.

Within two minutes the second song was blaring good and loud and she'd settled back with a pleased nod before thinking on the next song to play. From her vantage point she could watch everyone in the club but those on the second floor above her. It never failed to keep her attention, especially seeing what people were dancing to in particular.

It was then that she noted the odd couple, especially the girl who sported a very odd beard.

The music continued to pump out of the many speakers, bass shifting through the space fit to vibrate up your bones no matter where you stood on the old floors covered in carpet. The dance floor was steadily filling up with more people and it shifted like a writhing sea of glistening flesh filtered through various shades of reds and violets.

Yoki stared out from within the booth, feeling the familiar and somewhat dangerous urge burning in her to dance to her own spinning. That was a good sign, she figured. Or maybe it was a narcissitic one, but she couldn't help it. Just look at that floor!

"Ugh, damnit..." she sighed slightly, shifting her weight to her left leg as she stood over the counter, leaning on her arms, one folded over the other to support her rather dimunitive weight for someone of such tall stature.

Slanted eyes oversaw most of the entirety of the first floor from the waitress passing her with a rather tasty looking margarita on her tray, to the people milling around, some approaching for requests, to the most provoking dance floor. But it was packed, leaving little room to dance. The bouncers had even taken a few steps back as people spilled over the edges and onto the carpetted area.

Well that wouldn't do...even if she managed to put on a track long enough to get out - and, oh, could she ever - she wouldn't have a place to go. The two podiums were filled to the edges, almost dangerously so, with people grinding. The same could be said of the cages that hung from the second floor. She didn't want to be up in one of those anyway, it was too easy to make an ass out of yourself and she found them, quite honestly, to be quite tasteless. So what did that leave her as a dancing space where she could fully feel the music...?

Silver orbs swept across the floor again and a small smile slowly lifted her lips. She had a place after all.

"I can swing this," Yokiko murmured, turning swiftly to grab a special cd from her case.

Sliding it into the second turntable she let it cue in and once it was smoothly on its way she had slunk out from the booth. She wove her way with practiced ease through the people, past the bouncers and the dance floor.

She passed men and women alike, a diverse boiling pot of people. There ranged anything you could think of, from the quiet and shy hiding in the booths to the flamboyant and outrageous dancing wildly in the cages. People of various ethnicities - white, asian, black, middle eastern - they were all there in this strange mix.

Having lived in the city, and in the ghetto for several years of her youth no less, she was well aware of her surroundings. It wasn't hard to spot the dealers. Having spent time at many a rave, it was just as easy to spot those who were high and drugged - like the guy on the second floor with the glowsticks, for example. Prime person on E. At least she didn't see the pacifiers, though.

The music blared out and she didn't even think on such things as she walked confidently towards the main bar and squeezed her way to the counter between a pair of flighty woman who glared at her for a supposed invasion of space.

"Dale!" she waved him over, leaning on the counter, careful to avoid a sticky spot.

The spiky chestnut haired man, maybe in his mid twenties, shuffled on over after sliding down some orders. Hazel eyes twinkled at her with a flirtatious wink, "Hey there, come to keep me company?"

"You wish, pretty boy." she laughed before leaning up confidentially, just a scant few inches from his ear, "Mind if I borrow the end of the bar?"

"What for?" he lifted a brow at her.

"Oh, nothing much..." she feigned a sweet and innocent face, which sadly never worked with him. But she'd try anyway, even if her halo was held up by her horns.

"Your halo is flickering, you might want to return it to the 7/11." Dale folded his arms, giving her a look.

"Oh, you're no fun." she dropped the sweet face with a sullen scowl "There's nowhere to dance, it's packed!"

"And that's your own fault!" Dale had to laugh.

"Please?" she pressed, anxious and feeling the desire to move that she could never deny.

"And just who is going to DJ?" he asked, enjoying making her beg.

"I put in a track I mixed, it's an hour long. Now come on!" Yoki insistently demanded, just about ready to jump up and throttle him.

Dale was about to reply when customers demanding drinks yanked his attention, and ear, away to the other end of the bar.

Pursing her lips in irritation, Yoki watched Dale's back retreat from her. A young woman who was practically falling out of her dress was trying to flirt with him, nothing new there. Too bad he was taken, and Denise would probably give the girl a good bitch slap if she saw her.

She sighed in annoyance and turned to lean back on the bar, mind drifting past that impatience. Well, perhaps he had an unspoken point there. It was one thing to be reckless and silly enough to dance on the counters after cleaning when everyone was gone, another to do that when so many people were around. Come to think of it, that would have been a bit too trashy for her taste, too Coyote Ugly.

Rolling her eyes, she slipped a few bucks back on the counter for his nudged insight and let the silver orbs scan through the crowds on the dance floor again. Still no space..ah, wait. A slow sile lifted her lips and she pushed herself off from the bar wall. The scantily clad group of bleach blondes were climbing down from the left podium. A perfect opportunity and space not to be pressed in, and one she moved quickly to snatch before anyone else did.

So she wove her way through the people, keeping her eyes trained on the wooden block until she reached it. Another twittering girl was just about to set her foot up, but saw the Dj approach and backed off, allowing Yoki to pull herself up with all the grace of a cat, much to her inward glee.

Several sets of eyes were directed at her as they always tended to be to anyone who got up on the podiums. Usually it was the curiosity to see if a decent dancer would get up to watch or if a group of bad ones would go up to be ripped on below the tones of the music where said people couldn't hear it. She simply ignored them all. She didn't do this for them, though it admittedly brought in more business when people heard, or so she'd be told. Pushing some dirty glasses on the edge to the floor and sighed inwardly. If the owner came in she'd get in trouble, but this was one thing she couldn't deny, not when the music moved so well and she was feeling energetic.

Behind her closed her eyes she could still tell where it was bright and dark, the intermittent and sporadic brilliance of strobe lights obliterated the maroons shining down from the covers she herself had come in to put over the lights. The music flowing through her was the ultimate high, especially on a night like this where she'd packed the floors and her own mix was spinning to do it. There was no need for thought as her figure began to move with a feline grace to the beats fading in to Sanctuary.

Several had taken a few steps away from the area of the block she used to catch the show. It was growing to be well known that one of the resident DJs was able not only to spin tracks ridiculously well, but also to dance in a manner that was sleek and undeniably sexual, yet without so much as a hint of sleaziness. She put out unconsciously yet would just as soon push you away. Even Dale looked on, both fondly and rather exasperatedly, like a brother. There was nothing he could do now that she was there.

The beats moved through her, and Yoki allowed her head to fall back for a moment, enraptured. It was one thing to hear it through headphones as she spun, and another thing entirely to experience the music and the underlying bass running up her bones from the very floorboards and up the podium, which near resonated. Her lips, full and red even in the dimness, were moving to sing with a pretty and slightly husky voice that human ears couldn't hear over the music itself.

"There is a place living in all of us. In this sacred.. soul free of judgement. This is yours to share with who you wish. This is your.. santuary."

She was almost oblivious to the entirety of her surroundings. In a brief motion her hair, which had been pinned up, came tumbling down in a silken cloud of shadows across her pale face, twisting around a lithely moving body. She looked like the living embodiment of the music.

It was only a matter of time before the 'dynamic duo' had made its way to one of the closest bars, much to the dismay of the taller youth.

The brunette giddily plopped herself down on a swivel bar stool, restraining from the gnawing urge to twirl around in it, quickly motioning for the bartender and ordering herself up a drink.

The redhead tentatively reached for a wooden chair nearby and pulled it up awkwardly, sitting down next to her and glancing around the place again.

Smoke hung thickly in the air around him and he found himself choking back a cough or sneeze or two.

"Sure is crowded here, and dark... And the smell, all I can smell is alcohol..."

"The scent of alcohol in a bar, imagine that; next thing you know you'll be seeing nuns in a convent." The brunette rolled her eyes in a notably exaggerated fashion, scooping up a handful of peanuts from a dish on the counter and tossing them back in her mouth.

"It could do you some good to join a convent..." the male shot back in agitation.

"Do me some good, or do a lot of innocent, holy people a lot of harm?" There was a cocky tone to her voice, as if she'd been waiting for the set up all night. Then, knowing Line, somehow she probably had been.

"Mmm, true enough. They'd probably think the devil herself had stepped on their threshold seeking refuge."

"In a red dress, baby." She cackled, tossing back a few more peanuts, munching and bobbing back and forth humming to the music in the background. "If I played my cards right I'd at least send a few of 'em to an early grave, through sheer annoyance. Serves 'em right. ... Damn penguins..." She began to trail off, murmuring to herself something about penguins, pagan gods, and pancakes, from what Ki could gather through the fierce bass of the music pounding around them. Some sort of p words, anyway. He'd console himself in to believing none of which pertained to concerns of his own person, or like wise persons of his gender persuasion. Hopefully. Just hopefully. She had her scary moments, honestly. --And a mind almost permanently in the gutter to boot.

He glanced over, noting the bartender had set a drink down in front of his overly eager partner. "And my never ending nightmare continues..." He sighed.

"Mmm, come to mama..." Line purred, wrapping her hands around a frothy mug, full of a vodka mudslide, and taking a sip, letting the liquid pour down her throat. Creamy and with a taste reminiscent of chocolate milk, combined with the initial tingle and burning sensation as it touched her tongue and slide down her throat, it was a pleasure to down every time. Not enough to do all that much damage to the system, but enough to warm her body and give her that little buzz she craved.

"Ho yes, I've been waiting for you I have, mommy missed you..." She giggled, stroking the glass teasingly with a fingernail, mostly for the odd looks she was receiving from those around her, and the expected expression of disgust on her koibito's face.

"Do you have to make such a spectacle out of yourself?"

"When I can help it, yes." She grinned; playing with the pool of water that had formed on the wood surrounded her glass. "Don't listen to Ki, he doesn't know what he's missing."

�Oh, I�m sure I do, making a complete and utter ass of myself, followed by a hangover and a splitting headache. Sorry m�dear, but the thought of tasting my dinner a second time the next day, just doesn�t appeal to me.�

�Baaaah�� She chose to ignore him, instead choosing to lift her glass and take another messy sip of the bitter sweetness that bite at her tongue and sent gleeful shivers down her spine. A bit rolled down rolled down her jaw line towards her chin, and she casually slipped the drop up onto a fingertip. �You�re not getting away that easy�� She studied the creamy droplet in amusement, were she in the mood, she could have a lot of tormenting fun with her love this way, but not tonight. Tonight was about dancing. Right now, anyway. Pity. She licked it off her finger and looked around. She could be a brat any time.

�Looks fun, doesn�t it?� She smirked a little, motioning to bodies around them, swaying and gyrating to the beat. She happened to zone in on a young couple grinding together and frowned. �Remind me, I want to try that later��

�Try what?� Akiyo blinked, not paying much attention, which, this time was probably a good thing.

�Oh nothing, I don�t think I�d do it with you, anyway. Two left feet. Er, supposing feet even matter for that sort of thing, oh well. I�ll find me someone, oh yes.� Still not paying attention, NOT a good thing this time.

�Eh, right�� He shrugged.

�Eh, excuse me�� Line�s attention was caught suddenly by a noise beside her. A meek and mousy looking girl had sidled up beside her to the bar, looking more than a little shy and embarrassed. Line raised an eyebrow in intrigued.

�What�ll it be honey?� The bartender leaned over the counter, waiting to take her order.

�I� Well� Er� What could I�� The girl fumbled awkwardly, toying with her braid and taking her glasses off, cleaning them, putting them back on again, and repeating the process several more times.

An evil smile etched it�s way onto Line�s lips. �I believe this young lady�ll have a scotch, on the rocks. If you don�t mind my good sir.�

The bartender nodded, leaning back and mixing the drink. �Coming right up.�

The mousy girl blinked as the drink was set in front of her. �I� Eh, thank you?�

Line slipped the bartender a 5 spot and got up from her seat, looking a little too friendly. �Don�t worry about it. Oh, but be careful, that stuff�ll knock you on your ass.�

And with that she grabbed a confused Ki by the wrist, dragging him off his seat and towards the dance floor.

�I can�t believe you just did that to that poor girl, she looked that she was barely 21. You�re a bad influence.� He chastised.

�Yeah, so she�ll loosen up, let her hair down, take those glasses off, and had some hot and wild night she won�t remember, and she�ll learn for next time. Life lessons my boy.�

�You�re cruel.�

�And yet you love me anyway.�

�Sometimes I wonder why��

�It�s because I�m attractive.� It was at that point she noticed a lithely built woman making her way over to one of the center most podiums, climbing on top and beginning to sway her hips and sing along, a crowd forming around her. It was almost entrancing watching the ethereal curves swinging back and forth in perfect time to the rhythm of the music. �Wow, she�s hot��

At this point her partner found himself at a loss for words, any comments he had intended to make escaping him. �I, eh, what?!�

�Oh, don�t get jealous on me, I�ll even ask her name for you. I noticed you drooling.� And again before he could say anything, she had disappeared further up into the crowd to get a better look.

�I have to get a leash for that girl�� He cursed, worming and elbowing his way through to catch up.

He walked down the deserted sidewalk fairly effortlessly, the still of the night draping around him nicely like the cloak he'd grown to associate it with. He'd been noticing in his later years there was less weight in his steps, he had to bregrudgingly admit that his steps were much more elegant, long and defined strides, still not lacking in their masculinity, but much more airy than he was sastisfied with. Every movement was damn near refined and perfect.

He stiffened, planting his foot down firmly on the ground, one after the other, aching for the familiar, rigid and mechanical march of a soldier. This body lacked some what in the warrior's body he once had, lighter and less muscular, strong, but not the same. It made him feel like a pansy. He wasn't a prince, he was soldier. His hands were not dainty and well manicured, fingering the lightest of silks; they were rough and hard, caked with dirt and blood. A killer.

No, he didn't like that word, and quickly shook it free from his mind.

Though not needing to, he drew in a long breath to clear his head. He could smell it, taste it, hear it, sense it, almost see it. There was bad blood in the air tonight.

Bad blood? Had he just made a pun? This really must have been a bad evening. And yet, a slight smirk tugged at the sides of his lips, as he mused at his own slip up. Humor? He hadn't known he was capable of that.

No matter. His head ached and he knew of only one mission tonight- to find a local pub and drown his sorrows until they faded into nothing but cloudy memories, slipping just beyond his reach or recognition. Yes. That was the goal. To be numb. To forget. Though as of yet his journey was proving a fruitless one.

He rounded another block and found himself jolted into something. Alive? No. Awake? Closer, he supposed. The comforting silence had disapated.

He found himself standing outside of a nightclub, alive and pounding with sounds that hurt his ears. Well, a bar was a bar, and bars had drinks. Finally he could get some spirits for his spirit.

...Had he just made another pun?? He was no soldier at all, he was some simple minded jester! Better make that upcoming order a double.

Not wanting to deal with the inane banterings of the flocks of people waiting in line, he slipped in silently and unnoticed at the front door, moving so swiftly his sight couldn't have been more than a quick flash of gray to the standing door man. Even if it had been more, a little mind bending would have dealt with no problem.

Pity he never stopped to muse over what the inside held in store for him.

The daunting clubscene proved a severe change of pace for the vampire. He could still pick up the scent of liquored up shmoes, and enough smoke hung in the air to suffocate every spider in a 100 mile radius (served them right, too; little hairy legged bastards, always crawling, and making webs, and crawling, and glaring at you with their beady eyes saying, 'if I were big enough I'd catch you too', and crawling closer and closer and- ...not that spiders bothered him of all people, or anything; he couldn't see them, but he could sense them, always watching, and that was abd enough), but the overwhelming heat of the bodies, alive and gyrating, the intensity of the bass of their heartbeats, pulsating in his ears, in his head, the near taste of their flesh carrying on the air and sticking fast in the back of his throat was staggering.

Indeed, this was a spectacle for our spectre.

... Spectacle for our spectre? A third pun?! Oh hell, Lucifer was laughing at him now. He needed the numbing (and to some extent, stupifying) affects of alcohol, and fast.

By now the two had wormed and wriggled their way near to the front of the center bar, the attractive woman that had first caught Crystaline's attention still swaying in perfect time to the music.

Ki watched her languid and fluid motions for a bit. Surely, though she may not have shown it, anyone her position must have just drank in all the attention she was gaining, fixed on her as a pivotal point of vision.

He would have of course appreciated it if at least one person's attention were directed elsewhere, like I at him and out of here. He bit back a pout and shoved a hand in his pants pocket, the other reaching out to brush against his partner's shoulder, though just missing and getting air as she shuffled slightly closer to the bar again. She was certainly making it difficult to keep up with her.

She was entranced. Enraptured. Every movement was perfect. Every thing in time, from the swinging of the hips and moving of the arms, the beautiful strands of hair that never seemed to be out of place, though occassionally falling into the woman's face, making for a very sensous look for a second or twenty.

A light hand on her shoulder brought her out of the spell the woman in front of her was seemingly casting, and she glanced back at the unhappy expression of the boy she had come with.

"Can we go?"

"We juts got here." She gave him an exagerated pout. "I haven't even had any fun yet~"

"Yet but-" he started.

"We're staying."

She gazed back up at the girl dancing, before the most impish of thoughts crossed her mind. "Hrm..." She began to dig around inside her pockets and her black mini backpack, growing more irked by the minute. "Damn it... Where is that stupid wallet?" She felt around more, irritation nearly giving in to panic.

"You mean this wallet?" Akiyo held up a small black wallet, a less than amused look on his face.

"Yeah!" She blinked and scowled, "gimme! Don't take things that aren't yours!"

"You left it on the bar counter, idiot. I grabbed it so you wouldn't lose it."

"A likely story..." She eyed him suspiciously and he sighed.

"What do you need it for anyway?"

"Just take out a ten, would you?"

"What for?"

"Just cause~" she rocked back and forth on her heels innocently, avoiding his look.

"If you're planning on sticking in her pants, I don't think she'd appreciate it. This isn't a strip joint..."

She feigned innocent and hurt, replying in the most pouty of tones. "I wouldn't... Besides, for all you know, she might like the attention." A devious little grin crept it's way to her lips, and she stuck her tongue out playfully.

"You don't even like girls." He frowned, his nearly permenant and always irritating 'get real' attitude seeming to shine through.

"That's not a girl, Ki..." and with this she turned her attention back to the bar, becoming all the more spellbound as before. "That's a woman."

"I hate you."

"Eh?" Without turning to look at him.

"Nothing..." And a sigh.

A finger ending in a veritable talon twirled a lock of jet black hair to the side of an undeniably sexy woman's face. Her skin was pale as fine cream and showing everywhere, from her overly bountiful crop of breasts that were almost spilling out of the confinement of the tight vinyl dress to the long legs that were crossed not in a manner as to be prim but to invite. From behind the chin length bob of silky black hair, pitch black eyes peered with impervious majesty around the club from the second floor.

Her expression and body language alone foretold of her general attitude - she was a goddess and this was her world. She ruled over the roost, and no one took attention from her or denied her what she wanted.

And thus the mildly irritated twist to full lips painted in vibrant red, almost spellbinding for the effect of contrast to her face. She stared down at the cheeky wench on the podium below her and snorted derisively, a breath of smoke leaving her mouth.

Any average person would say she might have been threatened by the girl. Say any such thing and you'd likely find yourself without a tongue with no one the wiser to say who did it. Carey was afraid of no other woman, she was more than capable of knocking her down and taking anything she wanted around her. And far be it for her to actually do it honestly. It was far more enjoyable to seduce them and toss them away when she was bored.

Let the little git have her moment, she decided, feeling lenient. There were other things to do and she didn't feel like going through the boredom of getting through the crowd for confrontation.

Besides...she had just spotted a delicious little treat. Mortals were amusing toys, but another sort of demon was more the fun she was looking for. And this one seemed so temptingly eccentric, slipping in like some Victorian ghost.

The soft pink tongue licked her lips and she absently handed off her smoking pipe, an opium pipe by the looks of it, and got up. Keeping her eyes on her prey, her fingers graced the rail beside her as she walked languidly - and anyone who lowered their head a little would have been able to see up the micro-mini dress - heading for the stairs to descend and greet the beatiful one "properly."

Somewhere along the lines of time the music had faded in and out of a few other songs. Each of course she recognized, obvious considering she'd been the one to mix the cd. Currently, in some vague fashion, she had noted the Madprofessor remix Superpredators by Massive Attack. It was a song that somehow always made her feel more confident than she really was, and oddly enough made her think of some futuristic model in a long and somehow fashionable vinyl gown strutting down the catwalk.

The girl was obviously able to work the crowds, Line apparently wasn't the only one with the idea to profer money to her. Yoki no longer felt offended by it - after all, she never showed anything that compromised her integrity, never removed an article of clothing. She was just doing what she loved and had been taking classes to do since she was a child. She'd have the waitress take the cash and put it in the panda. If she took it, then she'd feel like a stripper, clothed or not.

Her body moved with sinuous ease, and it was almost a miracle that she didn't trip or break her ankle in the heels she wore. At some point she'd sunk down to a small crouch, eyes hazily half-lidded in the pleasure of just being alive, a hand sweeping out in a broad, but daring gesture to lightly touch a few people in turn. Her stare, even as slightly dazed as it was, was incredibly poignant and intense. And then in a moment she had swept away, arching back up.

This was the best way to remind herself...the only way now. But soon it had to end, she couldn't afford to stay up much longer. After the song she knew she had to return to her place.

He found a seat and sat down with a grunt. Too many people, just too many people. This was a bad idea. It didn't matter, he'd get what he needed and go. Easier said than done, in hind sight.

Barely five minutes and his senses were in overdrive, just because his eyes were long since gone, doesn't mean the rest of him was dead. Well, in a manner of speaking.

He could hear it, taste it, smell it, almost feel it, alright.

Somewhere to his left, maybe at a 45o angle, about 50 feet, two alpha males (actually, cocky frat boys, no doubt), were skulking around, a good 10 paces away from each other, though neither noticed, scoping out the same pretty young thing, barely 21 and innocently sipping a Cosmo at her seat. He could feel both of them drink her in eagerly, and it would be only a matter of time before one went in for the kill. If the inevitable didn't ensue and there wasn't an escort by a bouncer soon after, as teeth were bared and voices were raised, than this young lady ran the risk of going home with either a closet mama's boy, who would coddle and smother her like there was no tomorrow, or a sleaze bag sexual predator in the making, who would take advantage of her, defile her spirit and shatter her innocence, and report back to his fellow 'comrades in arms' the following day about his latest bag.

Didn't matter, not his problem. He had too many problems, what did it matter to him? They all died anyways. All good and bad little mortals died. Usually. He must have really pissed God off to be here.

Out in the back alley way just outside, he could pick of the squeak-squeaketh of an overly large rat, resembling that of more of a gnawed up cat, picking it's way at a discarded pizza crust.

Somewhere upstairs two youths whispered low under their breath, exchanging a small package that more than likely contained illegal narcotics, and they'd both get wasted soon after. But the sicking, nearly skunk like smell to the men, they'd already been into some cannabis at the very least.

Again, not his problem.

And he could feel her, in every aspect. A willowy, and assumed by this century's standard's, more than averagely attractive woman on a bar in a more centered section of the floor. he could just about taste the vibrancy of life oozing out of her every pore on the end of his lips and the tip of his tongue. It tickled in his nose and eased his ears. Intriguing, but what did he care? She seemed to be doing alright on her own as is to gain attention from more than a few interested both gentlemen and female callers, and what he could only describe as, what? An overly enthusiastic child, being followed by a miniature giant? No, that didn't make sense. Bah, there was no explanation for that one. He didn't want it anyway.

But there was something else, as he motioned over for the nearest 'bar-keep', ordering himself up hard whiskey, heh, 'in a dirty glass', there was a strange sensation welling inside. An uncharacteristic and uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He was not alone, and he didn't need his eyes, nor to turn around to feel a pair of black and soulless eyes, boring into the back of his skull. It sent an equally uncharacteristic cringe through his system, and a mild wave of nausea.

Fuck was she hot. There was no doubt about it. No questioning it. She was frigging on fire. Not that she needed to be told, no doubt.

Line was still as entranced as ever, though now it had become more of an angry body check and elbow shove to keep her place near to the front to watch the sinewy woman dance. If such seduction translated into human form could be called dancing.

Ki stomped his foot and pouted. Such sulking was unbecoming and out of character, but damn it, what the hell?

This had to be punishment for something. Fun for Line was always some sort of pain for him. But what the hell had he done?

And then it hit him. A flashback.

She stood outside the complexes front, fumbling with a key and stooping on her tiptoes to reach the mail in the box on the very top. An uneasy rock back and forth on her heels in attempt for a few tries, but finally she had it. Or, at least, she thought she had.

A stack of envelopes flew out of the small compartment at once as if they had something to prove, and her face was the bulls eye on which they were to prove it. Thwack, thwack, thwack. There was a good three bills to the eye. And she knew those bastards were bills, too. They were too thick to be that mail in rebate for shampoo.

"Whores!" Because surely they'd done it on purpose. They had to've.

But one was different. It was thick too, but it had an emblem on it she didn't recognize. A fancy crest on the corner, depicting a dragon on one side, and a lion on the other. "Que?"

A bigger surprise was that it was addressed to her. She was sure she'd made it so that everything was in Ki's name. Less to be traced back to her, and no bill collectors, that way. Not that she was opposed or stranger to opening his mail anyway.

Bearing the near, claw-like fingernail on her pinky finger like a letter opener (she hadn't needed a real knife for most things since she was 12), she sliced at the top of the envelope, opening the letter and looking inside. It only took the shortest of skims for a low growl to emit and a crumpling of papers to follow.

A veritable storm cloud brewing over her head and a slight glimpse of lightning trailing behind her, clouds rolling to catch up, she made it to the room in a speed that could only be described as 'super pissed'. Technical term. Really, I swear. She didn't even bother to pull out her keys, with the classic 'I'm busy now, I'll ignore you later' along with other, less pleasant keychains, choosing instead to kick the door open.

"It wasn't locked, you know... But if you take it off the hinges, we DO have to pay..."

One look was enough to shut him up. No words could describe the utter terror that crept into his soul at that very moment. She only glared, flames of rage crackling in full behind her. Stomping her foot and letting out a shrill and irritated screech, she, for lack of a better term, stormed off, fuming. A booming and exaggeratedly angry stomp up a flight of stairs, followed by an equally angry slamming shut of a bedroom door, only leaving the ruddy redhead to stare after in confusion as to when their apartment suddenly had a second floor. But then, strange things like that were always appearing and disappearing in her presence. He'd learned to ignore it. It was just easier.

He was so fucked.

His attention was pulled back to reality by an unusually girlish squeal, and a mock faint into his arms by his partner. He looked down at her in concern. "What is it?"

She looked up at him, beaming and batting her eyelashes. "I touched her hand..." She cooed, and he snorted, shoving her back to her feet. "I'm giving her my number!"

"Our number, you mean?! No you're not!"

"Would you rather I ask her to take it off? Cause y'know, that's next..." She grinned.

"..."

"I thought so. Now quitcherbitchin', people are beginning to stare at us as much as her." And with that she purred and pulled out a sharpie, and snatched a napkin to scribble done their number, his just narrowly missing snatching it away from her and sulking yet again.

"This is just, like, what, a girl crush, right?"

"Sure."

"You don't sound sure..."

"I don't give a fuck."

It was more than just a touch ironic, the DJ's choice of music at the time the she-demon approached the sightless vampire. Or perhaps it was her timing. Either way it didn't matter, Lady Venom seemed to be quite the apt description as she slunk on over, never taking the abyssmal eyes from her night's little fling.

So tensely observant, she couldn't help but notice, at that point still thinking there was little way that he might know she was approaching without seeing her. The music and screams of people over it covered her steps and the smells of perfumes, deodorants, smoke, booze and just the very scent of hot blooded mortality would mask anything she might give off.

And so, with the dirtiest and most sultry little smile she knew how to give, she carelessly crept up behind Kyte, Carey's arms sliding around his shoulders as the curvaceous woman pressed her body flush up against his back - though how she could get so close with breasts as buoyant as hers was a defiance of physics. Then again, so was their existence, no? Every other man she had used this opening tactic on was putty in her hands, and this would be no different.

Leaning closed she nibbled on one of his ears, tongue running along its outer shell, "Well hello there, love. I don't think I've seen you here before..." Her breath was sultry and seductively low, smelling of a mixture of opium and blood as it moved forward.

The disgusting smell of decay wafted into his nostrils, and he snorted. What now? Had ol' Lucy sent one of his lowliest, zombie foot soldiers to badger him tonight? That wasn't showing much class, was it? Though he wasn't given much time to scoff about it, telling the pathetic old demon he was slipping up.

He felt the sick and clammy feel of dead flesh press against him, and nearly gagged. This wasn't a female, it was sentry orc in drag. One with clearly a lot of gall, if it sensed him and wasn't shirking away, but rather was what? Making an attempt to seduce him? Sad and pathetic.

Even the voice seemed devilish and rancid. Holding that hypnotic and sexual tone that would make most mortals melt in a heartbeat, came out as nothing more than the agitated hiss of a python to him.

"There may be a good reason for that, madam. I wish I could say I had the misfortune to eye you as well, but as you can see, Satan has already taken pity on my sight in preemption of your visit." He adjusted his hat better on his head. "I also understand these places may have a dress code, but I would appreciate it if you didn't use your ill gotten assets to remind me. I'm rather partial to this hat, and would hate for it to get dirty on the floor. Not that you haven't already fouled into enough. Please, keep your parts to yourself."

The saliva on his ear did little to improve his humor, as he leaned forward, shirking off her seeming 'embrace' and away from her stench.

"Besides, I understand these 'nightclubs' may appeal to many lifestyles, and social classes, but I wasn't aware they were admitting minotaur sex workers now."

To say the least, that the current tactic had no affect proved to be slightly disconcerting and most assuredly a nuisance as her brow twitched upwards. She had never been spurned in her centuries of misbegotten life - who knew what had spawned her, she never divulged it and it was likely no one wanted to know. Apparently Lucifer had quite the crude sense of humor from time to time - Carey had never been refused so bluntly. Of course there were the skittish ones who tried to slink away, but she always coaxed them back into her claws.

But this one...well wasn't this an interesting scenario. Even she couldn't help but hear the scorn to his tone, but decided - perhaps to the adjustment of her pregnant ego - that it was simply because he was startled and could not see her. But losing one sense only made all the others more potent, especially touch. Her lips curved more deeply as she set her chin on one of her arms, apparently unheeding of his rebuke.

"Aren't we a little bit of an anxious pet?" she laughed "Far worse words have been spoken, it does not offend. You're so tense, why don't you relax a little? Or perhaps your cranky disposition has to do with a certain hunger, hm?"

Black eyes seemed to glow as she looked directly ahead toward the crowds near the young whelp who was stealing her attention. What a delightfully amusing and perfect way to rid herself of another pest.

"I'm sure I can easily gather you a pretty little kitten to satiate it."

The tracks were coming towards their close and, despite the pleasure of just sinking into it, Yoki reluctantly knelt down and hopped down from the podium, knowing she had less than two minutes to press her way through the crowds and get to the booth before the club would go strangely silent and she got in trouble.

She glanced back at the bartender, who gave her a vastly exaggerated sigh of relief that she had gotten down. Shooting him a sour glare and a half-smile after it she called over the people and the music, "Dale, give all the cash to Che'nelle for the panda."

"What do I get out of it?" he grinned back as she shouted to her retreating back.

"Not receiving my knee in your crotch," was the cheeky, but still serious response before she had disappeared into the throngs without giving and of those she had enticed the time to hand over any phone numbers or to exchange words. Time would tell who paid attention to the DJ booth and who didn't.

Dale certainly had mind to swipe a little, but in good conscience and fear for his gonads he scooped it all up into a bowl - which was overflowing with it - and handed it over to the waitress who kept climbing up and down the ladder all night to add small bucketfuls of money into the panda. It was going to be a good New Years, the enormous thing was going to be stuffed to the brim if this kept up. He could always swipe some extra cash when it came down, and with that in mind he returned to his job when people called.

Yoki on the other hand was rushing into the booth, kicking the door shut with one booted foot and veritably hopping on over to the book - one of many - of cds, searching rapidly for something to tie into what was currently playing. Something slower...shrugging slightly, she glanced over to the request list and pulled out Guilla by Wilsin y Yandel and began to work in the reggaeton, a little despondant that she couldn't be out to dance all night. Well, at least she had an hour, that would have to content her.

A brow raised from underneath the cloth bandage over his eyes.

"Pet? I can politely assure you madam, I am no one's pet. Although I suppose any polite repertoire would be more than a waste of effort on a...lady, such as yourself, who has clearly long since forgotten her etiquette when addressing a gentleman."

A bit more bite edged into his tone than intended. In truth, her question, despite her already testing his nerves, had irritated him a good deal. Though he couldn't deny the smallest of gurgles erupting in the pit of his stomach. He was a bit hungry, but seeking her aid was the last thing he intended to do.

He wasn't keen on feeding anyway. Only when absolutely necessary, and usually he just picked up one of the regulars at these locations who had found himself rolled into the gutter one too many times, clearly overstaying his welcome on this plain, and polluting the already foul life around him.

His hand unconsciously contracted and retracted into a fist a few times at his side.

"I can just imagine the sort you would pick up. Cheap take out isn't really my thing, especially when I don't know the kitchen conditions it was prepared under. I'd like to say I appreciate your concern, but I really don't. I'm quite satisfied as is, thank you."

If only she'd just go away. If this kept up he would just lose his patience and feed on her, ridding the world of her obvious infection. Though the thought of the inevitable indigestion from the poison coursing through her veins was enough to erase that idea.

---

"Guh! Guh guh guh!" The brunette gapped, frantically pointing ahead of her as she was continually nearly knocked off her feet and elbowed and shoved as disappointed people moved away from the bar again, after their catcalls and wolf whistled proved for naught in keeping the young lady up longer. "She's gone?! Well when the fuck did that happen?"

"When you were too busy making an ass of yourself, trying to pick her up and give her our number." Akiyo rolled his eyes, snatching up the napkin with the chicken scratched number scrawled out in black sharpie from his partner's hands.

"Heeey!" The girl make the cliched grabby-hands at the taller youth, trying to get it back.

"No. Gimme." He huffed, tearing at the napkin in to unnecessarily small shreds. "Before somebody else finds this and decides to write it out on a nearby bathroom stall wall, with the ever in good taste, 'call for a good time'." He clacked his tongue, shaking his hands free of the little shreds, all over the bar floor, which were quickly shuffled and kicked away in varied directions by bar patrons' feet.

"Oh, no worries, I already did that when we got here." She beamed, and he could only give her a look that suggested some part of him couldn't help believing it somehow. "We have no choice now, we have to find her." Her face was stern and a little too serious.

"And what makes you say that?"

"My desire to irritate you."

"Of course." Why him?

"Oh, are we the dominant type..?" she purred, refusing to catch a hint or just plain disregarding it. Likely both. She always got what she wanted and was growing irritated at his lack of proper response to her. There was only so much insolence she would take. "You are aware of the times, pet, a woman is free to approach as she wishes instead of the other way around."

It seemed Carey had no intention of letting go and would have a plethora of insults as to compare any other woman to herself. It was plainly obvious, even in the way there were others keeping tabs in the shadows, that she was the one who ruled the..less than mortal entities in the club who mingled with humans.

A long nailed finger idly twirled in a lock of his hair, the other running along the edge of the bandages around his eyes. "I suppose the little bint who just got down from the podium would be too cheap to give you. But she's gone now, so no need to worry your pretty little head about that."

((OOC: Want me dead yet? >_>

But HOMG, it's BACK. @____@ MY INSPIRATION IS COMING BACK!

Let's see if I can finally revive this sucker.))

And in a seeming flash he felt the electricity of the vibrant woman all but dissipate, only serving to somehow harden an already wretched mood. Indeed, she was gone now. The pressing company far from doing little to improve this factor for him. He shifted irritably in his chair, swallowing hard to hold back a down right out of character growl. This woman truly didn't know her place, and was desperately trying his every last desire to gut her and be done with it.

An unnecessary exhale, playing along. "I am well aware of the times, my dear (a term used with more than a little contempt ..), however, a woman is also free to leave as she wishes, especially when encouraged to vacate the planet at the nearest possible opportunity." A sickened half smile to himself; she was still talking, venomous words still trying to snake their way into his ears and spread their infection. He wouldn't have it.

He waved her hand away dismissively, more than bristling at her insistence. Was it not a form of assault in this day and age to touch someone without their consent. Not that it truly mattered to either so old of a soul, but still, inner desires to bite at her with such a comment. But he withheld the urges.

"Too cheap for me, mm?" An endlessly twitching brow. "Interesting as the scents here tell me she bathes on a regular basis and believes in grooming, so one can assume she leads a substantial enough lifestyle. However you, heh..." A pause, an honest smirk to himself. "Well, I don't really like to pick my meals from the graveyard. They're never fresh. You always find that one that seems ripe, but one squish and you discover the terribly rotten core." He held his hand out as if he were holding an inspecting a piece of fruit, before clenching his fist tight with his last words, they seething out from between his lips with far more than disdain.

A sigh, releasing his hand and setting it at his side. "Now would you please, madam, be so kind as to harass someone more fitting of your valued time?"

---

The less than dynamic duo were now making their way desperately through the throng of people. Both elbowing, shoving, cussing, and not really caring who they disturbing or why. One, on a mission, seeking out a most desired treasure. The other, helplessly trying to keep up with the former.

What lay ahead for them was anybody's guess. Drunkness and black eyes, more than likely. But would she reach her most desired quarry?

((OOC: Whee, made Ki and Line a bit short as what they do next relies slightly on here things go concerning Yoki. >3>; But, but, ees good?! Ansel and Absynthe coming next time I post, so look out. >D I got my groove back! *strut* ))

"Oh, and you're one to speak, darling?" she laughed, a slightly shrill note of rage in the otherwise seductive sound. Though somehow it was definitely the seduction of a two dollar whore and thus potentially less pleasing if you didn't know how to listen for it. How dare he shun her so abruptly. It made her vicious temper flare, and unknown to the vampire in front of her, Carey's onyx eyes glared hard and long at the waif of a girl that this one had apparently found more enticing than herself. "Perhaps you find yourself speaking in your own pool of self-pity, blinded little beauty that you are."

Ah, but at last she would pull away, that voluptuous form peeling itself off him like a second skin - a snake's skin. She would take this as more of a challenge then. If he wouldn't come to her now... well, she'd just have fun taking it out on the little git he'd been eying instead to start things off and then force him to submit another night. There were ways, she always got what she wanted. Honorable means were not in her rulebook. In fact, there were no rules.

"Sadly for you, I do have some other pressing business to attend to..." a sadistic smile twitched the full lips upward, plump and red as cherries. "So I suppose I'll have to catch you later." And with a parting brush of his neck, nails grazing hard enough to welt, she was sauntering away with a sway to her hips that just screamed to chase after her for the same reasons you'd chase a hooker.

Oh yes, she mused without so much as casting a backward glance. She'd take out this infuriating dismissal and tear to her city-wide ego on that stupid little bitch downstairs. And it would be ever so sweet to watch, knowing she'd have absolutely no clue. Screaming mortals always amused her so, especially ones who had slighted her. Perhaps she'd cut up that pretty little face so she'd need bandages far more than the vampire... then the tendons in her hands so she wouldn't be able to spin. And lastly the ligaments in her legs and feet so she'd never be able to stand and dance again. Yes, that sounded amusing.

And through all of these exchanges, both between the strange pair that were roaming the club in search of her and between the two demons on the higher floor, the very object of so much unexpected attention and fascination was completely oblivious. Instead the raven haired beauty continued to spin, throwing herself into the music, even though she doubted anyone would feel it. Yet within fifteen minutes of returning to the booth, the dance floor was packed with her specific brand of musical taste, a swaying sea of bodies and flickering lights.

A sickened shudder as she peeled, he, briefly imaginign the same sickening sound a octopus' suction cups must make as breasts left the back of his head. Guh.

He didn't much bother to reply; more of a grunt, really. And a mumbling under the breath of a good riddance to bad rubbish, variety. She'd be back and he knew she'd be back, so why bother to fool himself otherwise. For now the cross-dressing, minotaur sex worker was not worth his efforts.

A feeling remained, however. A desire, were he capable of it, to pass a fleeting glance her direction. Not that he wanted to, and for once found himself excruciatingly thankful for his 'disability'. But nonetheless. He would reluctantly keep an 'eye' of sorts out for her, mentally. Had he seen her, he may have caught that sadistic air she was now radiating, a signal flare warning of things to come. But why should he let himself care about the affairs of the immortal or mortals alike? Anything that didn't effect him directly wasn't worth mattering. No. It was simpler that way.

Another grunt to himself, followed by a hard swig back of equally hard liquor. He folded his arms, one over the other on the bar and shifted his weight, leaning forward, head down. It was a mistake to come. Too many nuisances. He'd leave soon enough.

---

Drunkenness and black eyes were very in the future, by the look of things. He'd already had to tug her away a few times as she reared back to slug a few foolish souls who had 'dared' to shove her back as she made her way through the crowd. Nobody valuing their life shoved her, she had rationed, but nonetheless she was jerked away. She stopped, dead center of the entire club floor and frowned, pulling at his wrist to draw him closer, so she could speak to him without shouting over the bass of the music and the shouts and grunts of the crowd.

"Have you seen her?" Still, it came out rather loud. Nothing to be done.

He cupped his ear slightly, leaning in. "You know," he shouted back. "I haven't bothered to look. A little preoccupied not losing any limbs!" A chuckle, though there was no heart in it. More a bad feeling in the bit of his stomach. Something was off tonight, and he couldn't help wondering if everyone in a twenty mile radius could feel it, or just him.

Pursed lips up at him, though they turned into a full fledged pout, eyes watering on cue. "But we just have to! I know she's out there somewhere! She's probably lonely too, without anyone there to watch her any more!" Eyes welled up more in realization. "Poor kitten! What if she's lost? We must comfort her! And pet her... And love her... And call her Geor--" A hand clamped over her mouth and an arm slid around her waist, holding in place.

"Don't start that again."

Eyes gazed up at him as if to say they were sorry, and a head only shook in an 'I don't believe it' sort of way, 'and I'll only release when you promise to behave.'

A pause, and a nod.

"Good." He released slowly, pulling his arms away warily. First the one on the waist, then the one on the mouth. Sometimes the less speech the better. Less headache in the morning if he was in the dark about what she was rambling about, and not an accomplice. "Now then, what's say we--" But upon full release she fled, something catching both of their eyes in a flash as she seemingly parted the the crowd like the red sea, making a beeline ahead. He sighed, and shook his head. Was he honestly going to pursue this any longer? It was stupid, really. To entertain a little crush so. He had better things to do, right?.

...Apparently not.

--

Two silhouettes were illuminated nearby a street lamp, only a mere block away from the unfolding melodrama of the club.

One, feminine and curvaceous in shape, stood regal and proud, head held high, if not seeming to tick ever so slightly, every so often with annoyance.

The other, nervous, hunched, with an anxious jitter to it, let out a haggard snigger, body heaving with it. "Tonight's the night?" The invisible voice hissed. "Can we have some fun tonight Synny?"

"Not yet, we're just here to inspect, and stop it with that creepy little laugh, Ansel." A well manicured hand, with painted black nails appeared under the light and out of the dark, shoving the hunched figure over into the light.

The man, if it could be called a man, only sniggered more. Clothes mottled and dulled to a gray, and pockmarked flesh and grisly hair to match it and the tinny, rattling, nervous voice from within his throat. "Yes'm~." he crowded.

The regal head turned into the light, finely trimmed into a Cleopatra-esque cut, black hair sheening a very peculiar green tone from one end, and a pink from the other. Full lips frowning and a pointed nose upturned. (OOC: think like that material ribbons or bangles are made out of. Where it's white but shines either colour, and just invert it.) An equally pretty and clean looking body stepped forward. Very feminine in shape, apparently wearing only the best in designer clothes, causing onlookers to wonder first at their strange hair, and secondly what the strange pair was doing together AT ALL. Especially at this time of night. A scene definitely sending a few weirdness meters off the charts. "Come on," the beautiful body stepped forward. "We have work to do."