A Long Talk, Then Clubbin’

[Amy] More than half her stuff is packed into her bags which are piled on top of her bed. The bed she hasn’t slept in in a few nights, now.

When she slips into the room, she knows that it’s time to face the music.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] Sarita knew that this decision would involve change. When she came home last night to find Amy’s stuff packed, she realized that it was far more change than she was aware of. She’s sitting on the bed, staring at Amy’s. The Strider doesn’t look as if she’s slept all night; she’s dressed in a white tank top and jeans. An ashtray full of cigarettes sits on her bed. She looks…tired. Worn down…exhausted. A little bit haunted.

She doesn’t look up when the door opens and closes, just takes a drag off her cigarette. “Hey.”

[Amy] “Hey”.

She smells like him. Not in a ‘Broke the fuck out of the Litany’ way, but in a has spent several hours in contact with him way. It’s faint, and people wouldn’t notice. But Sarita isn’t people, and Amy comes to flop down on her sister’s non-luggage-laden bed with her. She’s not hiding anything in the brief minutes that she doesn’t have to.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She looks over finally, settling tired eyes on the kiinfolk. The smell is obvious to her, and she takes a breath before looking back to the other bed. “So, when were you gonna tell me you were moving out?”

[Amy] “When I explained what the deal was.” She looks over her semi-packed things too. “It’s one of Hunter’s conditions. I move to Bronzeville, so that we have some sort of cover. I told him I wasn’t going without you.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She snorts. “Wow. So my choice now is to move away from the rest of my tribemates that were currently living here, or go back on the whole thing and say ‘Fuck off, I’m not cool with this’ and be the bitch.”

Letting Amy go without her isn’t even mentioned as an option, because to the Ragabash, it isn’t one.

[Amy] “You’re going to fucking make me choose too? Fucking really?”

She hops up, favoring her still not entirely healed wrist as she searches through her bags for the Ace bandage.

“I already fucking picked him over Stefan, and him over fighting, and fucking Bronzeville over fucking indoor pool at fucking Katherine’s. I’ve picked him over every other fucking option there was, and now it’s going to be all for shit because you’re going to make me pick too?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Did I say that?” Her anger rises, at the same time that she rises off the bed.

“You didn’t fucking tell me this when you asked me. And you damn well know that this completely changes MY fucking life as well. You’re making me lie to my fucking packmates-to-be. At least you MADE the choice between Bronzeville or Bellemonte Loft. I apparently didn’t get that choice. Frankly Amy, I think you’d choose him if it meant that you got beaten within an inch of your life every god damned day. And you don’t care who else you hurt when you do it, you selfish bitch.”

[Amy] “Fuck you.”

She doesn’t look behind her as she wraps the wrist, trying to keep her breathing even and slow and getting even more angry when it hitches and gives her away.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] Her jaw is set, hands clenched into fists at her side. Some of the anger immediately drains at that tell-tale sign in the catch of Amy’s breath, and when she speaks again, it’s calmer.

“Tell me that I’m wrong, and I’ll apologize.”

[Amy] “If you don’t want to go, then we don’t go.” She briefly wonders how many conditions Hunter would let her wriggle around before he just put an end to it himself.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “It frankly doesn’t make sense.” She shakes her head and walks over to Amy. She wills her anger away and slips her arms around her sister, leaning on her. It’s most for support, but because the No-Moon is a but unsteady on her feet.

“Nobody gives a shit if you make trips to Bronzeville. That should be obvious by now. If we move out of the Brotherhood into Bronzeville, people will start wondering why. Especially when I’m moving into another pack’s territory despite being not being a part of them. Double especially if Hunter is right about the fact that they were looking at me first, and told Lukas that. That needs to be talked out.”

[Amy] “I’m just doing what he says, Sar.” She sounds exhausted, wiping her eyes with her freshly wrapped hand and leaning back into his sister. “There isn’t a fuck of a lot that I wouldn’t have agreed to”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Well, he’s being a fucking idiot. No one’s tailing you into their territory.”

[Amy] “Yet.”

[Amy] She pulls her phone out, texting with one hand and waiting.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Why would they at all?” She frowns. “You’re doing shit with the pack. That’s not news. Although, I guess you’re not now, which is kinda also stupid because it means ‘Okay, we’re going to throw away a perfectly valid cover and replace it with one that seems completely out of the blue.'”

[Amy] “No. I’m not doing shit with the pack. Not anymore.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “I hate how much you’re changing yourself for this.”

[Amy] “I can still do shit, just not for Defiance. I can still do whatever Lukas lets me have.”

Which, from her tone, she doesn’t expect to be much.

[Amy] Her phone beeps, and she reads. “He wants to know what issues.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “We’ll have shit for you to do.”

She frowns when Amy reports what the text says. “Just tell him that I want to talk to him about the living situation.”

[Amy] Type type type. “Should I probably mention that I was a complete pain in his ass last night?”

[Amy] She winces when the return text comes through, handing the phone to Sarita and wandering back to the clear bed.

“nothing to talk bout she can live there or not live there, not my problem, your choice”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She scowls. “Fuck off, dickbag.” She dials the number and puts it to her ear.

[Amy] It’s a test. It has to be. The whole thing is just a sick fucking joke to see how loyal she can be. There’s no going back at this point, though. Stefan will join Defiance, and that’s the end of him. She still won’t be able to work with them. She won’t even be able to be friends with them.

Making her pick between any of them and her sister? They should have known that’s the one place she’d draw a big fucking line.

But then again, maybe that’s what they were counting on, Ames. Because you can’t take a fucking hint.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Hey, Hunter.” She starts to pace, putting on a smile and taking a good-natured tone. “We gotta chat a bit about this moving thing.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She smiles a bit at Amy and starts to talk. “So, here’s the thing. You’re going to draw a lot more attention to the situation if Amy and I move out of the Brotherhood out of nowhere and into your territory. Especially when I’m packing up with Lukas and company. And honestly, I don’t get how this works as a cover, since no one is questioning why Amy’s spending time in Bronzeville anyway. I mean, you’re talking about being worried about sneaking through the tall grass, so you’re instead having her set fire to the grass instead.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Well, yeah. She insisted because my sister and I don’t live apart.” It’s said fairly matter-of-factly, with a sense of finality to it. “We are a package item, and that’s something that needs to be clearly understood out of the gate. Now frankly, I don’t see the problem as long as they’re not showing up at the Brotherhood for their dates or hanging out cuddling there together, but hey, I can compromise. What I’m saying is having us live in Bronzeville as a primary residence is equally not an option.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She frowns at what comes over the receiver, a look that says she’s not particularly pleased with what was just said.

“Like I said, a compromise. To find out what a decent compromise spot would be, I just need to know what you’re looking at for this living place. Are you expecting somewhere that they’ll be able to hang out and be a happy couple? Just a place where she’s not going to be followed leaving from, or what?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “None taken. And that’s what I’m saying…people wouldn’t bat an eye if Amy moved out into your territory, but me they would. And we’re a team.” She sighs. She hates this whole thing. She hates the way that it’s changing Amy and turning their lives upside down.

“Here’s what I’ll say. We’ll get a spot more or less halfway between the Unbroken’s loft and Bronzeville. I’ll try to get a spot within the loft itself too; she’s gonna be doing work with the Unbroken, it’s going to be necessary so that Lukas doesn’t just show up at her front door with ‘Hey, I have a job for you.’ Which I don’t think he would, but I’m being cautious here. That’ll give us a spot outside of your territory but a lot closer than we are now, with a private location that has no kinfolk or True eyes but mine. And it’ll also mean that I’m having to be a lot less dishonest to my packmates-to-be.”

[Amy] She hops up suddenly, shaking her head and heading out the door “I gotta pee. I’ll be right back.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She’s laying down on her bed when Amy gets back, the ashtray on her chest and a cigarette being smoke. She seems more relaxed, now. A little, at least.

[Amy] She’s gone longer than is necessary for a potty break. Her knuckles are scraped up when she gets back.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She looks up from her bed at Amy when she comes in, frowning a bit. “Jesus Fuck, girl. What the hell did you do this time?”

She gestures to Amy’s hands, to make sure Amy knows she’s talking about that and not something she may have discussed with Hunter on the phone.

[Amy] “Hit stuff” She leans in the doorway. “So?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “So, compromise accepted.” She smiles tiredly. “We got time to find a place between the Loft and Bronzeville. I’m thinking we can find something cheap near the University. I’ll hit up Katherine, see if we can claim a room at the Loft as well. In the meantime, when you wanna meet with your boy-toy, to quote Hunter ‘they meet at ‘the house’, whether she’s livin’ there or not.'”

[Amy] “How pissed is he?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “I think he was okay by the end. He was kind of pissy about midway through…or he just doesn’t like a hell of a lot of talking being sent his way. But I think he’s cool.”

[Amy] “He’s going to think I changed my mind.” She drifts over to the first aid kit that they keep stocked, cleaning up the blood on her knuckles.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “About being with him?” She shakes her head. “I don’t think so. Seriously, I think Hunter’s fine.”

[Amy] “About agreeing to all his conditions.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Well, some of his conditions were bullshit and he put you on the spot. I’m your voice of reason, looking out for you.”

She looks over, watching Amy through shadowed eyes. “Can I ask something? What big changes is John making in all of this, to be with you?”

[Amy] “Putting his ass on the line, knowing that when the all find out, it’s not an unreasonable expectation that they may just slit his throat.”

She looks over at Sarita, challenging her to argue the weight of the concessions.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She nods, not arguing that. “And you could be fucked, too. My point is, you’re changing your whole life around for this. And there’s a shit-ton of risk for all involved…I just wanna know it’s not all you making yourself what he wants to be. Bein’ with someone is about loving who they are. Sure, tweaks might happen here or there, but…”

She shrugs. “You know what I’m saying?”

[Amy] “I know.” She at least has the good grace to look ashamed. Once her knuckles are cleaned, she comes to sit on the bed again. “How long do we have to find somewhere?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Wasn’t specified. I’ll go out looking tomorrow.” She sighs. “And I’m assuming by that look that it’s all you changing.”

She stubs the cigarette out. “I’m still not going to let you become something that the you before you met John would have hated. Just so you know.”

[Amy] “All I’m doing is not fighting with Defiance anymore.” You know. The only pack she’s actually been able to do anything with so far. “Nothing else is going to be any different.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Okay. I’m just putting that out there, so you know not to be pissed if I start giving you shit as needed.”

She gives a faint smile.

[Amy] “Can you do me a favor?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “If I can, of course.”

[Amy] “Don’t call him my boy toy. This isn’t something I’m going to just get tired of in a week. He’s not somebody to keep me company until a new somebody comes along. It’s disrespectful to talk about him like he is.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She smiles a little, apologetically.

“I wasn’t trying to imply that. I’d call someone’s mate a boy toy. I know this isn’t just some fling for you, obviously.”

[Amy] “You know that dad is rolling over in his fucking grave right now.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She shrugs. “Why, ’cause you’re settling down, or who you’re settling down with?”

[Amy] “The who. He made it pretty clear that he expected me to be” She shifts into a deeper, gravely voice that’s a fair representation of the man “Hecho con toda esta mierda y actuar correctamente algún día.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] A snort, and she shakes her head. “I loved Esteban…you know that, right? At least, as much as a girl can love a dad she knew for all of like eight weeks. But homey had no room to talk about doing the right thing. You know that as well as I.”

[Amy] “Well, I fucking hated him. So he can shove his right thing right up his ass”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Can I ask something?” She looks over at Amy. “If you hated him so much, what’s with the whole, ‘hunting down his killer’ thing? Was that just looking for a way to get in on action, or was it legit?”

[Amy] “I want to hunt down the fucker. He was still our father. Even if he was an extraordinarily shitty father.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] A little nod. “Fair enough. Had to ask.”

[Amy] “Because I’ve been too busy seeing what I can beat up and who I can fuck”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “No, ’cause I’ve always kinda wondered.” She shrugs. “I know how much you hate him, so…the question was always kinda there in the back of my head. Probably shoulda asked earlier.”

[Amy] “I didn’t hate him until mom got sick, and they couldn’t find him.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She’s quiet for a little bit. “What was he like when he got back and found out?”

[Amy] “Pissed off. He wasn’t expecting to have to take me with him when he left again.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Was he upset?”

[Amy] “I can’t say he wasn’t, but I never saw it if he was. They didn’t like each other very much.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She frowns at that, and nods. “Gotcha.”

[Amy] “Do you ever wonder what would have happened, if you were the one he was around, and I was the one that barely knew him?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “A lot actually, yeah.” She sighs and sets the ashtray down, turning to curl on her side toward Amy.

[Amy] “I don’t think that either of us would have been nearly as fucked up as we are.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Maybe. We might not know each other either, though.”

[Amy] “We probably wouldn’t. I wouldn’t have had any reason to come find you.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “So thanks dad for that, at least.” She gives a faint, though somewhat strained, smile.

[Amy] “Fuck him.” She turns to her side to face Sarita now. “The other night at the house? The first fucking night we’re together and we don’t have to worry about anything, you know what he did?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] An eyebrow arches. “What?”

[Amy] “He asked me to tell him about myself. About where I came from and shit. Shit that other guys never bothered with.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She smiles a little. “Very nice.”

[Amy] “I told him all about home and mom and wandering. About how I used to fucking hate you, until I found you.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Okay, so I don’t want to beat his ass quite as much now. That’s good.”

[Amy] “He isn’t like other guys, that’s for sure. In a lot of ways that makes me crazy, but in some ways…”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She sighs, and shuts her eyes. “Yeah. He seems great.”

[Amy] “You can fucking hate him if you want. You don’t have to like him just because I’m in love with him.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “I don’t hate him. Not at all.”

[Amy] “I’m sorry.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She shrugs. “I’m disgustingly jealous of you. You know that, right?”

[Amy] “Because I’m in an impossible situation that is only going to get people hurt?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “’cause you got someone who makes you happy.”

[Amy] “It’ll happen, Sar. And fuck, you’re getting a pack. So we’re pretty fucking even in the jealousy department.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She shrugs a little bit, turning on her back to stare at the ceiling. “Fair enough, I guess.”

[Amy] “So we’re each getting something that the other wants.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] A faint smile. “Yeah. Lucky us.”

[Amy] “It will be nice to have a place, though. Just ours, you know?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Yeah, that’ll be nice. Just keep the fuckin’ noise down, a’ight?” A little grin emerges.

[Amy] “Fucking bitch.” Her nose wrinkles. “Hunter said she’s not a friend or anything, so fuck her.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She chuckles. “I wasn’t talking about that. I mean that you’re loud, Screamer.”

[Amy] “Yeah, well, lucky fucking you. I guess part of keeping it on the down low is going to have to be me keeping quiet.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Naah. You don’t have to worry about anyone else finding out. You just have to worry about me turning the hose on you guys.”

[Amy] “We’ll probably be at the house most of the time. It’s kind of our place.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Oh. Well, okay.” She looks over. “Does that mean I’m never gonna see you?”

[Amy] “No, that doesn’t mean you’re never going to see me. Shit, you’ll probably see more of me now that I’m not going to be playing musical beds.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Sorry. I just remember when you were with Leon, you were here like one out of every three nights.”

[Amy] “Yeah… you know what he told me? I went to see him the other day.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Who Leon?” Her nose wrinkles. “What did he say?”

[Amy] She nods slowly. “He said that if I wanted, he’d claim me and then let me go to John.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She snorts. “Yeah, ’cause he’s totally all trust-worthy and shit. Fuck him and his fucking bullshit.”

[Amy] “He scares me now. Still… ” She shrugs. “It was sweet to offer. Unless it was just a ploy to get me to agree to let him claim me.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Oh, it totally was. I have no doubt about it.”

[Amy] She’s quiet for a few seconds before launching in again. “Stefan said that if things don’t work out with John, that he’d like to try again.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She blinks. “Wait…seriously?”

[Amy] “Seriously. But he’s packing with Defiance, so…” She shrugs a shoulder.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “So who the fuck cares? If he’s supposed to be okay with John being with you, then John should be able to be okay if the reverse happens.”

[Amy] “Yeah, I know. Fuck, it might not even come up. Or he might be involved with somebody else when it does. I think it just says something that he even offered, you know? I come and tell him that it’s been fun but I’m going to go off and sneak around with a Metis, and he says that he’ll take me back if it doesn’t work out.”

She blinks hard when the words come out of her mouth, as if she hadn’t quite thought about it like that before.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She looks over at Amy, blinking.

“Dude, seriously. How the hell do you fucking do it?”

[Amy] “It’s not as much fun as it might seem. I feel pretty shitty about it.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “I’m not saying it’s fun. I’m just saying I’d like to harness a fucking fraction of it.”

[Amy] “Yeah, well, you can have it. I’ve got the one that I want now”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Just write down your secret or, like, distill it into an essence. Then I’ll be set.”

[Amy] “Fuck, I learn to distill that shit and we’re fucking selling it.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Potential Side Effects: May cause insanity and Obsession Over Metis”

[Amy] “Total fucking insanity.” She nods, looking thoughtful. “You think I wouldn’t be all like this if he wasn’t Metis?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “No, I don’t think it has to do with him being Metis, other than the fact that it makes sure you’re not relegating to being the baby-maker. I think you’d still be like this if you’d let him have a chance.”

[Amy] “Yeah. I told myself that’s all it was, too. But it was bullshit. I mean, the part where he’s had to work his ass off too, just to get a chance. That’s more it than anything.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She nods a little. “Yeah, I can see where that appeals to you.”

[Amy] “That, and he’s got a fucking HUGE cock.” She manages to keep a straight face for ten whole seconds before she cracks up

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She rolls her eyes. “DUDE. Did NOT need to know that.”

[Amy] “Which is why I said it. You can decide how true it is.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “I’m not going to think about it.”

[Amy] “You believe me, right?” She’s more subdued now, moving to lie on her back and look up at the ceiling.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “About what?”

[Amy] “That I’d ditch him if it came down to him or you.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] A slight shrug. “Would you be angry if I said that I wasn’t completely sure?”

[Amy] “No.” She sighs. “I don’t get to be pissy over something like that. Not after all the other shit.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Well, not an issue now.”

[Amy] “What do you want to do tonight?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] A little smile. “Something that doesn’t involve us sitting in here talking.”

[Amy] “She hops up, stretching.” Good. Where to?

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Fuck if I know. A bar, a club, whatever. Just get me the fuck out of this room, I’ve been staring at your bed for since like eleven o’clock last night.”

[Amy] She winces, nose wrinkling. “Sorry…. So… Club?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] Sounds good. She sits up, sighing. “Lemme go shower, and I’ll be good.”

[Amy] “Yeah. I should probably do that too” She moves to dig through her packed clothes, half unpacking by way of dumping things on the floor.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] A chuckle to herself, and she grabs some clothes before heading off to the shower.


[Amy] DJ turn it up
It’s about damn time to live it up
I’m so sick of being so serious
It’s making my brain delirious!

She gets them shots as soon as they get into the club, wriggling her way back through the crowd toward where she left Sarita.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She’s taking a lean near a wall, head nodding a little to the beat with a bit of a grin on her face. Sarita is dressed to impress tonight, the duster changed out for a black leather jacket She’s in a short skirt and low-cut top…out of everyone in Chicago, only Amy has seen her dressed like this. She’d probably have a rare moment of mortification if anyone she knew did. She takes a drag off of her cigarette, looking over and reached for a shot as Amy comes up.

“Gimme gimme!”

[Amy] Amy should probably not mention that she texted Hunter and John to invite them along, then. Which she will not. The shots are set carefully on the nearest ledge, three for each of them. The girl should wait tables from all of this experience carrying multiple glasses.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She smiles and takes a shot, knocking it back like it’s water. “Yeah, that’s the stuff. You’re awesome.”

[Amy] “Fuck yes I’m awesome.” She’s in jeans, boots, and a tanktop, but the jeans aren’t skin tight and the tank covers a lot more than most of her other ones do. She must have had to dig to find it.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] Another shot follows, and she takes a drag off her cigarette, looking around. “It feels good to get away from all the bullshit, even for a couple hours.”

[Amy] “I’m sorry that we didn’t get to do this the other night.” She does two of her shots to keep up with Sarita, feeling the slow burn in her stomach.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Ehh. I needed it more tonight, so s’all good.” She leans against Amy, watching the crowd. “S’nice to get out though. I just need some downtime where everyone’s as much of a ship in the night as I’ve been.”

[Amy] “Think we can find some E?” She tosses it out casually, with enough of a flip tone so that she can say she was joking if Sarita responds badly.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She raises a brow, but nods. “Yeah.” She looks back out to the crowd. “Man, I haven’t done E since…like, I was thirteen.”

[Amy] She considers before speaking. “You want to?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “I dunno.” She frowns. “I dunno what that shit would do to someone like me, you know? Do you?”

[Amy] “I don’t know. I mean, you can do pot okay. I think it would be about the same.”

She checks her phone, just in case.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “I guess, yeah.”

She shrugs and nods, looking over. “Everything okay?”

[Amy] “Totally okay. So what do you think? Should I go find some?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She looks like she’s wavering a bit. It’s borderline with what she considers good versus not good in the way of drugs. Finally, she just shrugs.

“Yeah, sure. Why not?”

[Amy] She grins, knocking back her third shot before winding her way back through the crowd.

[Amy] [Cha+Street=Score?]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 6, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She settles back, an arm folded around her middle as she smokes. She looks just a little bit nervous now as she sits there against the wall, picking up her last shot and downing it.

[Amy] It doesn’t seem like she’s even been gone that long when she moves back through to Sarita. She’s carrying another set of shots, and is trailed by a tall, handsome, stunningly built man.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She raises an eyebrow when she sees her come back with a guy. She swipes her hand through her hair, giving Amy a questioning look.

[Amy] Grinning broadly, she sets the shots down before holding her hand out to him. He puts two gelcaps in her hand, and she gives one to Sarita.

“This is Corbin”

She gives her sister a meaningful look, stepping back behind Corbin and nudging him closer to Sarita.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She gives Corbin a friendly smile and leans in close to Amy, murmuring under the beat of the music.

¿Olvidaste que yo, dijo que las relaciones sexuales al azar con la gente normal no lo estaban haciendo por mí?

[Amy] Her eyes roll, and she shouts over the music “Jesús puta mierda, necesita tener sexo con ALGUIEN!”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She shakes her head, sighing, and gives the man a smile. She leans in to speak to him, patting his chest lightly. He doesn’t quite know to make of what she said, but nods and heads off across the club. The Strider pockets the gelcaps and takes a drag off her cigarette.

[Amy] “What the FUCK, Sar?” She scowls at the departing man, then back to her sister.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “I’m not into the fuck random…” She doesn’t know how put it in a crowded club, so she just waves in that direction, though it’s somehow more expansive. “People like them thing, anymore. It doesn’t fucking do anything for me. I appreciate the thought, but I told you that already.”

[Amy] She shrugs, leaning next to Sasha and handing her a shot. “Fine. Fuck. Where’s your pill?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] [[Sasha? Where? 😉 ]]

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “In my pocket. I was waiting until Hottie Boy was off first.”

[Amy] “Oh. Okay.” She checks her phone again, scrolling through messages before putting it back in her pocket once more.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Someone call?” She adjusts the low-cut top, taking a lean against the wall as she takes a drag off her cigarette.

[Amy] “Noooo….” Check out that innocent look.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She arches an eyebrow, now starting to look a little nervous. She is TOTALLY not dressed as the image she likes to project. “Should I be worried?”

[Amy] “They probably won’t come. I don’t think that clubbing is their thing, really.”

But she’s not taking the pill yet, just in case

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] Her eyes narrow. “They WHO?”

[Amy] “The guys.” She smiles brightly and hands Sarita another shot.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “The gu–” Her eyes go from narrow slits to silver dollar-sized.

“You mean Defiance.”

[Amy] “No. I didn’t text Joey or Eve. I can’t.” She looks thoughtful. “I don’t know though. I guess they might have.”

She takes a tiny step back, just in case.

[Hunter] The club totally can’t even handle Defiance right now.

They emerge from the stairwell, easing past the bouncer and pushing through the doors to the main floor. John enters first, slightly more Ragey than he was the previous night but still remaining short of his potential. Hunter thrums a bit hotter, a bit heavier, though even he fails to bristle like he is known to.

He’s wearing a button up shirt. This never happens, does he even own a button up shirt? It looks nice too, relatively speaking, it fits him perfectly — though that is more to do with his body than any inherent value in the shirt — and beneath it are a slightly less stained but no less worn pair of jeans. His chin twists from side to side, checking for the peeps who managed to convince them to get out here in the first place.

“She better be here, if this was some fuckin’ trick..”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] Her teeth make a gritting gesture, a strangled sound coming out. That’s just before she launches a stream of Spanish vitriol.

Oh mi dios de mierda que usted perra loca, vas a ser la muerte absoluta de mí!

She looks around, suddenly self-concious, and looks back.

“What part of ‘I really needed to get away from all this bullshit’ wasn’t fucking clear, Amy?”

[Amy] “Jesus FUCK Sar. We’re fucking out. I invited my boyfriend and his best friend to come out too. That’s IT.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] The normally casually-dressed Strider, rarely seen without her duster and boots, is looking VERY different than what Hunter and John have ever seen her. The duster is changed out for a black leather jacket, instead of jeans and a shirt of some kind she’s in a short black skirt and low-cut top. Hell, she doesn’t even have her gun…nowhere to put it. She’s not that chick from the Texas Chainsaw Massacre remake, after all.

“Great. I’m going to feel ~totally~ not like an outsider here.”

[Amy] “Calm down. Fuck. They’re not going to even show up, and you know it.”

Another shot is taken, and she takes Sarita’s hand to tug her through the crowd to the dance floor. Amy is dressed very much like Taken Girl out with Single Girl. Jeans that fit but aren’t tight, a tank top that covers more than her usual tank tops do, and boots.

[John] This is not at all John’s scene.

Even without the mountain man beard, he still has the look of a big dumb farm hand that makes him look ridiculously out of place here. He had wanted nothing to do with nice clothing, and so he’s wearing the same damn ensemble he has on every night: shit-kicker boots, jeans that haven’t been washed since Friday night, a dingy white t-shirt that probably came out of a pack of three, and a brown Carhartt jacket, unzipped despite the fact that it’s cold as Hell outside. Though he doesn’t stare around at the cluster of bodies around him in consternation or confusion, neither does he step through the room with a powerful motion.

Hunter is grumbling about she better being here, and John hands him a look that says Relax. Perhaps he himself is worried that this is, actually, a trap, but if he is it’s buried so deep that all the world sees is someone who strikes chords of cognitive dissonance into those who look at him.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She still looks like she’s frustrated, and particularly nervous and self-conscious. But she allows herself to get tugged toward the dance floor, albeit looking around while she does.

[Amy] She was a little irritated that her clubbing night got destroyed on Friday. On balance though, she’s happy that things worked out like they did.

There’s at least a subtle shifting of people on the dance floor when the girls arrive. Low rage is still rage, and before long Amy is dancing up a storm inside an area that’s been cleared around Sarita.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She is nervous for a bit still, but once she gets out there she lets it go for the moment. She starts to get into it and become one with the music. She’s actually quite the dancer, and while that and her look attract a host of potential hookups, she’s keeping them at bay. She’s not here for a random hookup, just to have fun.

[Amy] Hour and a half, six shots.


Amy is in her extended happy place, considering the E in her pocket now that she’s convinced her sister and herself that they’re on their own for the night.

[Hunter] “Let’s get a drink, I think that’s what we’re supposed to do. Fuckin’ girls.”

He mumbles the last part and the roughly shoves someone out of the way as he wanders over to the bar. A seat is vacated just as he arrives — make that two, no three seats and he drops himself down into one of them. They have to wait to be served, places like this are notoriously hard to get served in if you have a penis.

“Two Jacks, don’t fuckin’ skimp none either, fill em up.”

The drinks are poured and then:

“Fifteen Fifty.”
“What, you’ve got to be fuckin’ shitting me. Do you fuckin hear this guy John? Fifteen Fifty he says, like we’re fuckin’ payin’ in russian money or somethin’. You’ve got some fuckin’ nerve guy, some fuckin’ nerve I tell ya.”

But he hands the money over, these will be the only drinks the two members of Defiance get out of their own pockets.

“Fifteen fuckin’ fifty, jesus christ.”

[Amy] Amy…. needs more alcohol.

She grabs Sar’s arm, tugging to get her attention and pointing at the bar before starting through the crowd again.

[John] John doesn’t have any luck with male bartenders, at all, so he doesn’t even bother. He stands by, trying not to look too awkward as Hunter haggles and harangues and eventually hawks up enough money for a bus ticket to Canada. The Modi lifts his eyebrows at the price, as if he’s heard wrong, and doesn’t sit down until the drink is poured out in front of him.

He’s going to be nursing this mother fucker.

One foot flat on the floor in case he needs to stand quickly, John lifts the shot in his typical Thanks man gesture, careful not to spill any of it, and takes a sip rather than tossing it back. The expression on his face, once the gratitude has been handed over, echoes Hunter’s own: Jesus Christ…

[Amy] [Mama needs some money]

She wriggles through the crowd, touching and tugging just so.
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 6, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6) [WP]

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She is easily tugged along, a big smile on her face as she slips her way through the crowd. She’s got a good, solid tipsiness going herself as she slides along through the crowd.

[Amy] She’s going through the wallet when she walks up toward the bar, her attention on what cash she can find rather than the fact that there’s a huge empty space in front of her.

[Hunter] They might notice the Rage, they might notice the space eventually, what they won’t be able to ignore at all is Hunter’s voice which is a loud rumble. He sounds annoyed and rather uneasy.

“Fuckin’ last time I was in a place like this I had to fuckin’ bail before I ripped someone’s legs off. You remember that Luana chick? Yeah, fuckin’ hell. Got all up ons, had to leave fore I did somethin’ I’d regret.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She skids to a stop when she sees the space, and hears Hunter’s voice. She looks around, seeing the two, and she freezes.

“Oh hell. They came.”

[Amy] Cash liberated, she puts her hand with the wallet to her side, going a few more steps before letting it fall to the floor and finally turns her attention to where she’s going.

Well goddamn…. Two thought occur to her. A. She’s glad she’s not rolling. B. Sar is going to KILL her.

[John] Though John’s eyes are cast towards his high ball glass, he’s well aware of the fact that his Alpha is uneasy. They both are like fish cast upon a sandy, filthy shore here. Though his Rage is waned, it still creeps under his skin like implanted embers, and he has to focus on something else so he doesn’t acknowledge that yeah, actually, places like this are foreign and not all that comfortable.

There are a lot of bodies. A lot of squishy, fragile bodies filled with liters of blood and lungs that produce piercing shrieks when said bodies are compromised.

He looks over at mention of ‘that Luana chick,’ and he has to think for a moment. The process is visible. John goes from frowning to blank-faced to having a light bulb moment in a matter of seconds, and then he flicks his eyebrows as if to confirm that leaving was the best of his options at that moment. Though John doesn’t speak across the totem link, or go for his journal, the sentiment is practically audible:

Fuckin’ women.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She swallows hard and runs her hand through her hair, before she pulls her jacket shut. Her jaw sets and then she takes a breath, gesturing.

“Let’s go, I guess.”

[Amy] There must be something wrong with the woman that marches up to the misfit pair that everyone else has left alone. Her eyes flicker over John briefly before she looks at Hunter, head shaking.

“Daaaaaaaaaaaym. Who died and made you hot?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She pauses, blinking, when Amy walks up to Hunter and hits on him. The expression on her face tells the tale clearly.

What the fuck is going on NOW?

[Hunter] He frowns, it isn’t a subtle gesture. It’s more of a scowl, really, than an actual frown, but the confusion in the expression makes it appear more so towards the latter.

“The fuck?”

The words are simple, to the point. What the fuck Amy?

[John] John laughs that voiceless laugh of his, glancing over at Hunter as if to see what it is Amy is seeing that he isn’t. A quick glance up at down reveals that the Bone Gnawer is wearing nice, clean clothes instead of what John has chosen to wear out tonight, and when he looks back at Amy he cocks a thumb at Hunter and makes that falling-water gesture he’s cobbled together to express showering.

At Sarita’s arrival, he is somewhat guarded. The last time he actually stopped to converse with her, he ended up punching her in the eye. Since then, he’s barreled past her after talking to her sister, been in the same room with her while Amy fumbled through giving him a computer tablet, and fallen asleep in her sister’s bed without noticing the Ragabash’s presence.

Then she and Hunter both react strongly to Amy’s question, and it stops being funny. He puts his hand down, coughs, and puts it in his pocket.

[Hunter] Hunter looks at John, hears him laugh and he visibly relaxes. “Guess your girls got good taste afterall.”

[Amy] “Teasing. Jesus fuck. You fuckers are all way too uptight.”

She glances at John, smiling brightly before shaking her head.

“Yeah. We’re going somewhere else now, aren’t we?” She hooks her arm in Sarita’s, nodding to the bar top “You guys do your shots, we’re going to go change clothes back. I TOLD the bitch that I look better in that than she ever could.”

Sure, she wants the points for not dressing like a tramp in front of John. But she wants her sister to be comfortable more.

[Hunter] “What you mean change? Just in the fuckin’ bathrooms? We just fuckin’ got here.” He looks at John incredulously. “I knew this was a fuckin’ trap.”

He groans with exasperation.

“Fifteen fuckin’ fifty!”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She shifts on her feet when the tension seems to be growing between everyone; she’s already completely off her game, and John being distant while Hunter doesn’t seem to even notice that she’s there in favor of his packmate and her sister have her about ready to melt back into the crowd. She is completely the outsider here, and she looks and feels it. More to the point, she looks like a girl who’s trying WAY too hard to get a guy by her clothes, and trying to cover the top with her jacket just makes her even less comfortable.

When Amy links arms with her, she tenses as if she’s about to be thrust forward face-first in the awkwardness. She relaxes a bit when Amy says they’re going to change, and she gives a little smile to the two man.

[Amy] “You bitch like a girl, Hunter”

She waves her newly gained cash at him. “I want to stay, but you two already look pissed off, so if you want to go somewhere else, we can go.”

[John] He knew this was a fuckin’ trap.

John holds up his hands, slowly flailing them back and forth while noiselessly shouting. Oh no! It’s a trap! It ceases to be amusing after a matter of seconds, and he stops, huffing out a breath as he plants his hands on his hips. Looking between the other three, an expression that ought to be familiar to them by now hits him.

Go on, guess.

[Amy] Oh! Oh! Is he confused??

She leans into Sarita, looking John over again before her eyes move back to Hunter for his answer.

[Hunter] “You fuckin’ shoot like a bitch.” Hunter retorts.

[Amy] “Fuck yeah I do. You want to go to the range sometime? Give me something ELSE to laugh at you about?”

There’s absolutely no question that she’s kidding, and even goes so far as to let go of Sarita to lean in and playfully jab at his side.

[Hunter] He snorts, then barks a bit of laughter, shortly followed by a twisting of his torso when she jabs at his ribs. “ACK! Quit it, go get fuckin’ changed. This club can’t even handle me.”

[Amy] “Yeah, nobody can handle you. Too sexy for your fucking shirt and all that shit, right?”

Grinning, she glances to John once more before dragging Sarita off to switch clothes.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] When Amy lets go of her, Sarita is already moving off to go change. Amy has to pick up the pace to catch up with her.

[John] Dear god.

John draws a breath, that confusion lifting into resignation and acceptance of things he can neither change nor fucking understand, then lifts his chin in a farewell nod and turns back to his drink. Fifteen fucking fifty.

He takes another bracing sip, then frowns and reaches out to take a swatch of Hunter’s shirt between his fingers, as if he can’t figure out what the attraction is. He isn’t going to sniff for pheromones, but damn that is nice material…

[Hunter] “Somethin’ like that.” Hunter smirks, then when they turn away he’s shaking his head, a look at John shares the thought.

Fuckin’ women.

[Hunter] [Hunter *lisp* “It’s Egyptian silk”]

[Amy] Amy looks…. hot.

She strides out of the bathroom a few minutes later, all low cut here and super short there and curves in all the right places. The leather jacket was left with Sarita, who’s now safely tucked away in Amy’s jeans and tank.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] [[Hold off on that second part, Sarita may not be coming with. 🙂 ]]
to Amy

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] [[Hold off on that second part, Sarita may not be coming with. 🙂 ]]

[Hunter] Hunter is about to take his shot when Amy strolls out of the bathrooms, it’s midway between the bar and his lips, nearing his chin when his head tilts to the side and his eyes go wide.

“Fuckin’ hell John.” He declares, just as the 7.75 shot cracks in between his fingers and goes splashing down the front of his shirt.

He doesn’t even notice.

[John] He isn’t the most aware-of-his-surroundings mother fucker to ever walk the face of the planet, so it isn’t until Hunter’s eyes go wide that the Modi figures out something is amiss. He sets down his shot and turns to see what the problem happens to be. It isn’t actually a problem, that he can tell, although Amy strolls out wearing a much more revealing outfit than the one she’d had on a few moments ago. For whatever reason, he doesn’t have quite the reaction Hunter does.

Maybe it’s because he would like to not die at the age of twenty unless he dies defending a Caern.

His gaze is appreciative, but not outwardly lecherous. Perhaps he thinks the Grand Elder or the Philodox Elder have nothing better to do than lurk in dark corners waiting for sin-born to eye-fuck purebred kinswomen from other tribes. He’s respectful, and while Hunter is giving his shirt his shot, John just flicks his eyebrow and tosses his back.

I know, that eyebrow flick says. He lets out a voiceless huff as the alcohol burns his throat.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] [[Guys, can you give us just a couple minutes please? We’re trying to figure some things out.]]

[Hunter] [oh totally! no problemolos!]

[Amy] Some smartass tries to grab her as she makes her way back to the bar, and gets punched in the face for his efforts.

She arches a brow when they get back to the bar, looking Hunter over. “What the fuck happened to you?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She comes out alongside Amy. She still looks off…she’s not skittish like she is before, but she’s still got more make-up on than she’s comfortable with Hunter and John seeing her in, and she didn’t exactly get a warm, welcoming feeling from the two when she was out there before.

She walks up behind Amy, heading straight to the bar and ordering herself several shots, straight up.

[Hunter] “Huh?” He says to Amy, then looks down at his shirt. “Oh..nuthin'” A scowl, he turns back to the bar and wipes his hand on his jeans before brushing it along the front of his shirt.

[Amy] Either she’s oblivious, or she’s mercilessly fucking with him.

Placed in front of Hunter, she leans into and around him to grab one of the shots that Sarita has ordered.

[Hunter] Amy isn’t oblivious, he knows this. She is fucking with him, without a doubt. There is no movement from him – even to pull away – like she wasn’t even there, though an observant individual might notice his nostrils involuntarily flare and his jaw clench.

“You always such a big fuckin’ tease Amy?” He finally says when she has her shot. “Go fuck with John, I wanna talk to Sarita.”

[Amy] “Not always.”

She’s pretty obviously pushing it though. Drawing back from him, she glances at Sarita and scoots over to John.

[John] It’s abundantly clear that John, at least, is oblivious. After his shot is gone, he sets the empty glass down, stomach settling quickly, and leans against the bar with his arms crossed over his chest. It’s hotter than Hell in here and he’s starting to sweat beneath his coat, but he doesn’t take it off until Amy scoots closer to him.

Hunter isn’t the only person who noticed her when she walked out of the bathroom. The Modi sighs, the sound not even a sound at all in this loud room but still etched into his face and body, and shrugs the lined jacket off his upper body. Without gesturing first, he drapes the coat over her shoulders.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She’s already downed two shots in the amount of time it’s taken Hunter and Amy to have their exchange. Sarita looks over at Hunter, masking whatever has caused the strange self-consciousness in her to flair with a grin. It’s not overtly sincere, but it’s there.


[Amy] She gives him an apologetic smile, leaning up to talk right into his ear.

[Hunter] “Waddup,” he’s still situated in his barstool , twisted around to the the side to face Sarita but when she gives him that grin he reverts back to looking straight ahead. She’s right next to him, they can talk huddled over their drinks.

“You’re all fuckin’ quiet tonight, what’s up with that? Usually can’t shut you up.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She gives a shrug. “I just didn’t know you guys were coming out. If I did, I woulda…” NOT COME BECAUSE I WAS TRYING FOR A GOD DAMNED NIGHT WITHOUT BEING SURROUNDED BY THIS WHOLE DAMN THING 24/7 GOD DAMMIT AMY THAT WAS A DIRTY SNEAKY TRICK “…dressed a little differently.”

[Hunter] [ORLY]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 2, 3, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Hunter] [aaaaaaaaand]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 5, 6, 10, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[John] [… was that Empathy? Put that shit away it’s so tiny it’s not even worth it.]



[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] [[YA RLY I LIE I LIE I LIE RELLY GUD]]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Hunter] [oh you jerk you’re defender]

[Hunter] Hunter studies her face, for more than a few seconds. He looks her in the eyes, looks at her lips and the way she sits, the way her hand holds her glass — Hunter takes his god damn time with this. Probably because he’s terrible at it — as indicated by the fact that he comes away none the wiser.

“Oh yeah? S’wrong with that? Seems fine to me.”

[John] He isn’t monstrously taller than the kinswoman, but John still ducks his head to meet her halfway as she lifts up to speak into his ear. Eyes made nearly black by the dim lighting in here focus straight ahead at nothing, seeming to stare straight through a throng of scantily clad, barely legal college coeds gyrating several yards away. He isn’t paying attention to any of the humans in this place, other than to answer the question as to where they are in case of any number of scenarios in which they would become impediments rather than simple background elements.

There are far too many of them, but for now, they’re just there.

Whatever Amy says to him is lost to time and rampant cacophony in the background. He returns his arms to their crossed position over his chest once he’s divested of his jacket, and when she concludes whatever it is she has to say, John bobs his head in a nod. All the response she gets is him reaching out to solemnly yet playfully grip the top of her skull in one hand, then rest that arm on the bar behind her without touching her.

He’s about as sly as church flatulence, but he’s not exactly trying to be sneaky. He probably just wants his damn arm to rest somewhere. The Fenrir can’t lie worth a damn.

[Amy] She laughs when her head is grabbed, swatting at his hand before twisting around to watch Hunter and Sarita.

So what if it puts her back almost touching his arm? Girl can’t lean and watch the devastatingly handsome Gnawer talk to her sister?

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She gives a little shrug, downing another shot. “Yeah, this is. I don’t think you noticed when I was wearing what Amy is now.”

[Lukas] The last time Lukas went clubbing with Danicka was New Year’s Eve, and he ended up soaring on ecstasy, pawing indiscriminately and fascinatedly at the seats, the windowglass, the ceiling upholstery, and the woman beside him as they rode the cab back to the W.

Tonight’s excesses aren’t so … excessive. The only substances in his system are a jolt of red bull (disgusting stuff, but Sinclair swears by it) and two shots of turquoise-blue AMF. He’s laughing as he comes up out of the tumultuous sea of dancing bodies, though, fingers tangled with Danicka’s, hair mussed, one shirt-sleeve rolled up to the elbow as though he’d done that much before forgetting the other.

Wait,” he all but shouts — they’re passing near the wall of subs — “wait wait wait, hold on, my shoelace is untied.” And he ducks down to knot it by touch, looking bar-ward, shrugging a drop of sweat off his temple and onto his shoulder. “Hey,” and he nods in Sarita’s direction, “that’s Sarita. Have you met her yet?”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] [[Per+Alert: Do I see Lukas?]]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 4, 6, 6, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[Hunter] He reaches out his hand for one of the shots, a little sigh escaping his lips – twisted in the corners revealing perhaps a hint of amusement. The floor behind them pounds, though the speakers are deliberately setup to limit as much noise as possible around the bar. It doesn’t make it quiet, not in the slightest, but it makes it possible to actually order drinks and shout in each others faces in an attempt at communication.

John doesn’t have this problem, of course. Bastard.

“Fuckin’ glad for that too. Last thing I wanna be doin’ is checkin’ out some fuckin’ wolf.” He laughs, it’s probably lost in the noise around them but it splits his lips and tips his chin.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She looks up, eyes falling on the Shadow Lord and his mate. She pauses a moment, drawing up just a bit. It would be very difficult to see the change in her demeanor, because she’s good at covering it and…well, they are in a club and the duo are a bit away. She smiles and waves as she directs her words toward the others. She knows Hunter understands Spanish and can get the message to John, and Amy can as well.

Señoras y señores … un Shadow Lord Elder se acerca. Sólo para que tengan conocimiento.

[Danicka] “Nooope,” says the blonde next to Lukas, smiling benignly. Her hair is actually up tonight, a rather thick ponytail with tendrils curling around her face. She came to dance, maybe, and not whip her hair back and forth. She’s not exactly sober at the moment either, though she perhaps handles herself — ironically — better than the Full Moon beside her. Her pants are tight, the fabric and color hard to discern with the lighting in here. Her shoes are flats, which make her height and his more lopsided than usual. Her shirt is some body-skimming metallic blue thing with short sleeves that is held on by a series of ties over her shoulders. Her coat is checked.

“Why didn’t you wear loafers?” she asks him when he’s done re-tying his shoelace. “You have those nice ones from Aldo. Who is Sarita?”

[Amy] She can’t hear it, but she sees the look to someone across the room and reads “Shadow Lord” on Sarita’s lips plainly enough.


She leans back into John’s arm for a second, just long enough to let her make full contact with him before she shrugs out of his coat. It’s caught and handed to him, and a moment later she’s scooted just barely out of Tits on His Arm range of Hunter.

[Hunter] “Que bueno.” Is Hunter’s reply to Sarita and he quickly throws back the shot. This time it goes down his throat instead of down the front of his shirt. Then it’s time to swivel on his stool and look around the club like a blind man trying to find his reflection. It’s dark in here, there are far too many people, the only thing that helps him is the breeding and the Rage.

Luckily there is enough of it to fill a small truck. He passes the message down the phone to John and then–

There are tits near his arm. He sighs.

[John] John doesn’t speak Spanish, but he reacts to what Sarita’s said seconds after she says it, anyway. His eyes flick down the bar toward her as Amy is handing back his jacket. He holds it in his left hand for a moment, fighting the urge to look around the room to find the source of Sarita’s announcement, and drums the fingers of his right hand against the tacky bartop.


Sniffing, the Modi drapes the jacket over the crook of his elbow and keeps his other arm where it is, looking nonchalant as hell with no drink nearby, nothing to chew on, nothing to smoke. He seems perfectly content to just stand here and watch the proceedings, so that’s what he does.

That and try not to exhibit schaudenfreude in Hunter’s anguish.

[Lukas] “See,” Lukas says, a little more loudly than necessary, “when your outfit consists of a buttondown shirt and jeans, how dressy or undressy you look depends entirely on what shoes you wear. And these,” he points at his shoes, old-school skate shoes in black and grey, “are appropriately casual.

“Plus,” he adds, getting back up, “they’re better to dance in. And Sarita’s a prospective packmate. A Ragabash Strider. I like her. Come on.”

If Lukas weren’t inebriated, he might have caught the little reveille that goes through the Cliaths and kin at the bar. He is, however, inebriated, and less of a fuck is given all around.

[Danicka] “Why are you giving me fashion lessons?” Danicka wants to know of her mate. She looks at him like he’s grown a third head. She doesn’t resist when he starts heading over to the Cliaths at the bar. She looks quite pleased with the world in general, Lukas’s shoes and inability to remember who he is talking to notwithstanding.

“Hello,” she says to the lot of them when they arrive, smiling and giving a little wave.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Lukas!” She smiles as he comes up, giving him an upward tilt of her head. “What’s shakin’, trial-run boss?” She grins to him. Her regular duster is gone and she’s wearing more make-up than he’s used to seeing her with. It’s more of an ‘I’m going clubbing in order to try and catch something’ look, although the clothes–tank top, jeans–don’t match. They aren’t baggy or the like, but they’re just more casual.

Danicka gets a warm smile from her as well, and a little nod. She doesn’t know the woman, but any friend of Lukas… “Hola. Funny to find you guys here. Club often?”

[Amy] She’s flirted with guys to get what she wanted for years. It’s gone beyond flirting more often than not, and the Owlet has never been above using any man when it suits her purposes.

After all, just look at Leon.

So why then, when she glances to Sarita in between big, flirty smiles for Hunter, does her expression shift to one of painful guilt before the expression is quickly wiped away?

[John] John’s player can’t be fucked rewriting what he looks like tonight. Typical Dorn Ahroun: hot dumb and doesn’t talk. Boom, roasted.

The Adren was a Fostern when one of the Cliaths met him. When they all met him, actually, but this particular Cliath met him when he was a mere step above him on the food chain, and he’d been bold enough to look at his cheekbones then. The Fenrir doesn’t look far past his throat as he and his mate mosey off the dance floor, though he does look over at the kinswoman and give her what is supposed to pass for a polite smile and doesn’t quite make it, as though the muscles responsible for smiling are so dusty and out-of-use that it isn’t going to happen. His eyes crinkle at the corners, slightly, but that’s about all she can expect tonight.

As if to make up for it, he lifts his right hand off the bartop long enough to give her a motionless wave. Hi, it says. He, however, doesn’t open his mouth.

[Lukas] “Because,” Lukas replies, and then just … kind of laughs.

They’re with the others by then, anyway. And whatever tension was brewing between Amy, Hunter, and John more or less flies right over Lukas’s head. Or at least he gives a very good impression of entirely missing out on it. Unmistakeably tall, dark, and rageful, the Ahroun returns Sarita’s grin with a slightly lopsided one.

“Sort of. Not really. This is Dani&+269;ka, my uh.” A blank; a durr moment. “Mine. My mate.”

He looks happy to say this. It’s a little absurd. A moment later Sarita can all but see him taking a breath, mustering some amount of respectability for the others. “Dani&+269;ka, this is Sarita. Hunter. John. And Amy, Sarita’s sister.” He turns his head, speaks into Danicka’s ear, then.

Talented lipreaders might catch it: John can’t speak. He’ll write instead if he needs to.

[Amy] Hey, did you hear that Sarita’s wayward sister is a slut? No? Well just look at her.

She isn’t as lean as Sarita, so the low cut top is clingier, and the short skirt is shorter. She’s dressed for clubbing, even though her makeup seems a little subdued for her clothing.

Because this goes SO far toward Lukas seeing her as an actual asset. Really it does.

[Hunter] “Yo,” Hunter offers in return to the arrival of the Lords once Lukas has done his introductions. His back is up against the bar, his feet perched on the frame-work of the stool. Raising both elbows, he lowers them to the surface behind him and flicks a glance at Amy – she’s doing that thing again. By the time he walks out of here he will probably figure it out, right now though she gets a look of annoyance from the Gnawer. But he doesn’t shove her off and a second later his attention is elsewhere, leaving her to smile devilishly and rub up against him all she wants.

Tension in the trio, perhaps, but beyond John looking bored, Hunter looking annoyed and Amy looking like she’s trying far too hard – there isn’t much to see.

“A club Lukas? Really?” He can’t help himself, his eyebrow raises. It’s like seeing your principal at the arcades.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Well, nice to meet you, Danicka.” She grins and holds out a hand to her. The whole thing that is going on behind her, she seems oblivious to. “Forgive the outfit…I usually travel in much less respectable clothing. Amy was nice enough to switch with me, though. I overdid it, I’m afraid.”

A friendly, grateful smile to her sister, and then she looks back at Lukas. “How’s tricks been? Keeping busy and up to no good?”

[Danicka] The first word that comes to Lukas’s addled mind is mine, which fits. His mate. Danicka looks thoroughly amused, turning her head away from the others to look at him for a moment. She shakes her head, not quite laughing, and then laughing quite out right when he does Very Serious Introductions. She puts her hand over her mouth to stifle it, nodding absently at whatever it is Lukas mutters in her ear. She’s holding his hand, too. She doesn’t have a drink anymore, but her green eyes are bright and it’s clear enough that she’s feeling loose and having a good time.

She extends her hand in turn to those that want it, greeting them in turn. “Hi. Hi. Hello. Hi. Good to meet you, Sarita!” That given with a flash of a smile, as bright as her eyes. Warm as her hands.

Then Hunter speaks up and she looks over at him. “What? I met Lukáš in a club.” A beat. “You’re not going to get all weird because of his rank or something, are you?”

[Hunter] “All weird, what ya’ mean by that?” He tilts his head, curiosity in his tone. “He just don’t look like much the dancin’ type.”

[Amy] She scowls at Hunter when he flat out ignores her, though the look seems to be more exasperation than irritation.

Reaching into her prominent cleavage, she fishes out a lighter and pack of cigarettes as she yells to be heard by everybody. “I’m going out for a smoke. I probably won’t be killed or anything. Nobody go with me”

[John] He can’t read lips worth a damn, either, but John ends up watching the couple as the male turns to speak into the female’s ear. It isn’t that he’s ignoring what’s going on next to him, but he certainly doesn’t seem to deem it worthy of his attention, either. A kinswoman flirting with Hunter?

Woooo. Fetch a Galliard, that’s one for the record books.

When Danicka pulls away from the huddle and begins with the hand shakes, the tallest of the three Cliaths looks around as if waiting for his cue. His shaking hand is resting on the bar, which is crawling with Christ knows what sort of bacteria and filth. John glances down at it, then decides to spare Danicka exposure to whatever is clinging to his skin by holding it up again, acknowledging her Hi with a pan-flash of a smile. It’s like ripping off a damn Band-Aid, how fast he does it, but he makes the attempt.

Hunter’s observation makes him laugh. So he can smile, he just chooses not to. How atypical of his tribe and auspice. The Modi cants his head to indicate his Alpha, then gives a facial shrug. It’s true: he doesn’t look much the dancin’ type.

[Lukas] “I don’t think Hunter even remembers my rank half the time,” Lukas replies.

His eyes level on Hunter for a beat. There might be a veiled warning there. Then he pulls a barstool out with his foot — he doesn’t even bother looking over his shoulder to make sure no one’s sitting on it. No one ever sits on barstools near Lukas for long. That stool goes to Danicka. He doesn’t actually sit, himself — he turns away for a moment, leaning over the bar to call out a drink order to the bartender.

That accomplished, he turns back. “At least no more cannonballs into pools,” he replies to Sarita, that smile resurfacing, crooked now. “By the way — ”

he cuts off. Amy announces she’s stepping out, no one come with her, she’ll be fine, really. Lukas’s eyes, dark and straight, flick up.

“Do you wanna go with her?” he asks Sarita.

[Lukas] [er. Lukas’s eyeBROWS, dark and straight.]

[Danicka] “I think you just challenged him to a dance-off,” she informs Hunter.

Angelina yells that she’s going out. She won’t be killed. Nobody go with her. And Danicka bursts into laughter, forgetting — at first — to clap her hand over her mouth.

A barstool is picked out for her. She does not seem to notice it.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She smiles and nods to Amy when she steps out, and looks back to Lukas.

“Nope. Don’t need to smoke, and if I just followed her out there…it would get ugly. If someone snatches her off the street directly in front of the club, she’ll let us know. Or kill them.”

She says it with a chuckle. “She’s cool. She’s just…well, she’s Ames.” As if that explains it. “Now, what about cannonballs and by the way?”

[Amy] She can’t be killed. She’s tried fairly recently, and all it gained her was another hospital stay and another conversation that she doesn’t want to have to have.

She gives Sarita a smile when her defense is lept to, nodding and taking a few steps away before stopping and backtracking to John.

“Can I borrow your coat?”

[John] Watch this, this is how poor a liar he is: Lukas tells Danicka that Hunter doesn’t remember his rank half the time, and the Modi, who up until that point had been watching the Adren, lifts his eyebrows in something like disbelief, or surprise. Maybe he’s amused; it’s hard to tell with him. Whatever the case is, John slowly looks over to Hunter before lowering his heavy brows and squinting over at his elder. He pops the knuckle of his right thumb with its buddies, then rests his half-fist back on the lacquered slab of wood and crosses one boot over the other, continuing to lean his fine-ass self against the bar instead of sitting down like a normal person.

Amy asks to borrow his coat, and he doesn’t even think twice about it. He does manage to pull his attention away from their superior long enough to unbend his elbow, drop the coat into his hand, and give it to the kinswoman. With his head turned, the rest of them can’t see the exaggerated look of warning on the Modi’s face, as though there will be dire consequences if she gets killed while wearing his jacket.

[Amy] She just barely nods, pulling on the dirty Carhartt over her lovely club clothes and hunching into the coat as she goes outside.

[Hunter] Lukas looks at him, and unlike his Modi pack-mate, the Alpha of Defiance doesn’t look the Adren in the cheek bones or the throat, he looks him right back in the eyes. There isn’t much of a challenge in it, more like just how Lukas put it. He doesn’t put much stock in rank. Words are held for now though, because Amy is looking like Hunter just yelled PASS in her face, or at least that’s how it seems to the Gnawer.

She gets no response from the Gnawer, not at the hints of her dying out there and not when she wanders over to grab John’s coat. There’s something far more interesting that has him grinning.

“Dance off?” He laughs, “I just take em’ at his worth. Man like Lukas’ll get me yappin’ to his song regardless’a what titles are floatin’ over his head.” He smiles, Isn’t that right Lukas?

[Lukas] “Hm.” It’s a thoughtful sound, a little curious. He leaves it be, though. Not quite the first night he met Sarita but the second or the third, she told him what it was like for her and her sister. They were tight. She protects her sister. Two desperadoes back to back against the world, all that. Only at the same time — she realizes what she can and can’t do. Can and can’t change.

Gives her sister freedom, even if it’ll kill her.

Lukas can respect that. He doesn’t really get it — not with his protective instinct which sometimes, frequently, verges into over territory — but he respects it.

Anyway: the bartender slides him his drink. Dear god, it’s another adios motherfucker. The Shadow Lord takes it and gulps it down like nothing. Eastern European jokes abound. Setting the half-drained glass aside, he crunches an ice sliver between his teeth.

“By the way,” he picks up where he left off, “we should talk sometime. About the totem, the pack, philosophy, all that. Maybe later, when I’m less … y’know. Drunk.”

There’s talk of a danceoff going on over there. Lukas flicks an eyebrow up, doesn’t comment. He does pass his drink over to Danicka, though, sharing like they taught him to in kindergarten.

[John] Good thing John left his phone in his jeans pocket and not his jacket pocket: when the stupid thing buzzes for his attention, surprising him to the point that he starts slightly but does not jump like an electrified cat, he reaches into his pocket to grab the thing. The screen produces a light so weak it barely penetrates the darkness, the glow dying inches from home. Whatever it says makes John’s squint deepen.

He elbows Hunter in the side, lighter than he does when he’s horsing around, and shows the contents of the cheap prepaid phone’s message to the Bone Gnawer.

[Danicka] Danicka’s laughter does indeed die down after awhile, into giggles and a single demure sniff. Amunet walks outside and, frankly, they’re in a nice area of Chicago. They are in what counts for the upper twenty-five percent on Danicka’s mental spectrum of swank –> divey. If Amunet going outside for a smoke is something worth batting an eyelash for in anyone’s book, it’s a book Danicka’s not reading.

She’s eyeing Hunter as he opens his mouth again. A drink slides towards her and she looks at it, then at Lukas, wounded. “You didn’t get me my own?” she says, bereft. “Worst boyfriend ever!” she says adamantly, and leans past him to flag down the bartender.

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Hell to the yes,” she says with a nod to the Adren. “I am game literally whenever you are. Assuming, you know. I’m not in the middle of a deep sleep, dreaming that Javier Bardem is one of Owl’s kin and mine, ALL mine.”

She gives a Cheshire grin at that, though there’s something a bit…bitter, perhaps? That may be the word to describe what swims well under the surface. The woman had her opportunity to get laid tonight thanks to her half-sister, but Sarita’s not into the random lays that she picks up from clubs. She’s done the Coyote Ugly morning one too many time for that, and she’s had enough experience with it to know that nine times out of ten, she’s not satisfied with some random nobody who she’ll never see again. Still, she’s had kinfolk/Garou relationships swirling around her head for weeks now, and it’s starting to take its toll in reminding her that she doesn’t have that.

She picks up a shot from the five or six she has lined up in front of her and downs it. “Amy definitely wants to talk at you more when she can too, about seeing if there’s anything she can get involved in such as what you mentioned to her before. Scouting and such. I don’t know that there’s much at the moment, but I know she’d love to get active, when she can.”

[Hunter] If there’s any reaction to the text that John showed him, it isn’t expressed by the Gnawer beyond a glance to the Modi and another at the door. It shouldn’t be unfamiliar to anyone here — the sharing of information, silently, between pack-mates –, so perhaps it isn’t a surprise when both members of Defiance stand from their stools.

Sarita begins her talk with her to-be Alpha and Hunter is frowning, tight lips, tight jaw, there’s something in the look he gives both of them but it is fleeting, resolving into half-hearted wave of his hand – a twisting of the corners of his lips.

“Sorry to leave, duty calls, corners to clear n’all that. Cya Lukas –” eyes turn to Danicka and she gets a nod. Sarita’s farewell gets said over his shoulder as he’s turning to go.

“Later homie.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Later, Hunter. John.” She gives them both warm smiles and waves, then looks back to Lukas.

[Danicka] “You know, I’ve never been particularly attracted to Javier Bardem,” Danicka muses as she waits for her drink, leaning on the bar. She takes no notice of John and Hunter leaving, even managing to miss Hunter’s nod in her direction. “He looks like… a Cro-Magnon. A noble, philosophical Cro-Magnon.” She looks over at Lukas thoughtfully, as though mentally comparing, then picks up a bright blue drink identical to the one Lukas ordered and turns towards Sarita as she mentions her sister again.

There’s interest in her eyes as her lips close around the straw in her drink. She doesn’t slam it. Well, she’s a slender thing, and female, and closer to mortal than Lukas. Maybe she wants to take it easy. He looks like he’s at least on his third or fourth; this is probably her second, third at most. Chances are she can’t hold her liquor all that well.

“Can she shoot?” Danicka wants to know.

[John] [Sam, Ange, thanks for the scene!]

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] “Oh man…it was Vicky Cristina Barcelona that did it for me. Just…oh, Dios mio.” She grins and shrugs. “I was hooked. And he can be a creepy little fucker too.” That’s an attractive trait? Hey, no one said the sisters were normal. Speaking of which…

“Can she shoot?” She grins widely. “Better than me, and to be perfectly arrogant, I shoot well. Hell, just the other day she unloaded one to help Hunter and Joey take down a freakin’ Thunderwyrm.” She nods. “Yes, she’s insane…I don’t dispute that. But girl’s got some serious mettle to her.”

[Lukas] Lukas, downgraded to worst boyfriend ever, doesn’t seem particularly heartbroken about it. He huffs a laugh, drinks his drink, and then lays a thoughtless, gentle hand on Danicka’s back as she leans across him to order.

“Night, guys.” That, offhand, was to Hunter and John. Back to Sarita and Danicka, “There might actually be something afoot. One of my contacts forwarded me this from the paper today,” and it’s not actually a newspaper he pulls out but his iPhone, fingers flicking deftly over the touchscreen until he pulls up a webpage, which he passes to the females.

“One or two homeless folks disappearing into the cold isn’t unusual, especially with this year’s weather, but half the expected population is a bit much.”

[newspaper clipping is this one: http://www.chicagodusk.com/smf/index.php?topic=8172.0 — and Amunet’s already signed up for that scene with jacqui, so consider this your ic lead-up *LOL*]

[Hunter] [thanks for scene!]

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She raises an eyebrow and takes the iPhone, looking it over. She doesn’t actually own such a piece of equipment herself–she’s been considering snagging one like her sister is so adept at doing, but not yet–but she does have an iPod so she can navigate it fine. Bless the evil conglomerate Apple and their love of a universal iOS. She looks over the article, frowning.

“The streets take them? Jesus, that’s ominous. Like, some kinda Joss Whedon creepy prophecy ominous.”

Her phone chirps, and passes the iPhone along to Danicka as she pulls her own out to look at it. A little frown, and she texts back.

[Danicka] “I never finished that movie,” Danicka says. “Never even got to the point where apparently the two chicks made out.” She shrugs. “I can’t ever get into Woody Allen’s crap.”

She has called Lukas her worst boyfriend ever before. That time it actually ended up in a series of phrases that made him turn his head away so he could hide his glowing, beaming smile of pleasure, but this time he just scoffs it off. They do have a certain comfort with each other, less like an old married couple and more like people who have been dating long enough not to Freak Out over every little thing.

His hand on her back, for instance. She doesn’t suddenly flutter, or blush, or drag him to an empty restroom. She smiles, and he leaves it there, and so it goes.

Her eyebrow lifts when Sarita mentions the Thunderwyrm, and Amy helping bring it down. Danicka doesn’t comment on that, nor does she look terribly interested in the newspaper clipping at the moment. She listens, though — this is the first she’s heard of it. “I like Joss Whedon,” she muses aloud. “Sometimes. The longer he goes on the more it becomes clear he’s a self-indulgent sexist.”

[Lukas] Another small laugh. The ice cubes in his glass clink together as Lukas drains the last of his AMF. The iPhone — which truthfully was a gift, not a purchase he made himself, and is in fact a by-now-outdated 3GS — comes back around to him. He puts it away.

“There aren’t a lot of details yet. But I believe Laughs in the Face of Death, the Ragabash elder, is thinking of having a look. If your sister wants to poke around the storefront end of things, so to speak, we might be able to use her information.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] A little bit of a nod. “Oh, well that’s perfect. Amy’s been hanging out with them a bit. Obviously, hence the Thunderwyrm thing. I’ll let her know.” She sends another text and slips the phone away.

[Danicka] For a few minutes there Danicka is the only one present who is not using her iPhone. Then again, where would she put it? She doesn’t have a purse on her, and her clothes are tight and pocketless, her left hand stamped with the insignia of the club, her drinks on Lukas’s tab. She’s finished her AMF.

Maybe not taking it so easy, after all.

[Lukas] “Great.” Phones go away. Danicka has finished her drink. Lukas’s is a pile of ice. Business set aside, he smiles, indicating the dance floor with a tilt of his head. “You guys ready to head back out? Maybe we’ll find you a Javier Bardem lookalike out there.”

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] She chuckles. “I’m not here for a pick-me-up. I’m not that kinda girl anymore. Just here to have fun.” She downs her last three shots in quick succession and nods, standing. She’s weaving a bit.

“Hey Mr. DJ, put that record on, as the Queen of Pop said. Let’s do it.”

[Danicka] “You two…” Danicka informs them slowly, “…start without me. I’m going to get some water and… be… sitting for awhile.”

[Lukas] Lukas’s eyebrow quirks up at that. He looks from Danicka to the empty glass and back. Then, meeting Sarita’s eyes, he quips, “She probably won’t get killed. Nobody stay with her.”

Sarita’s not exactly sober either. Neither is Lukas, for that matter. One weaving, the other swaying a bit, they head out onto the dance floor with its legions of clubbers.

[oy, sorry that took so long — getting sleepy here! that’s probably gonna be my last post tonight.]

[Danicka] To that, Danicka snorts a laugh, bordering on derisive. She sits on the barstool Lukas originally tried to pull out for her, leaning back and watching Lukas go off with his potential packmate. She just smiles. Orders one more.

[Danicka] [Yeah, sorry I got so slow, too. I v tired and going to bed now! But thank you guys for the RP!]

[Danicka] [Night!]

[Sarita Ecos de la Risa] Sarita grins and follows Lukas out on the dance floor to get down. Even intoxicated, she’s a decent dancer, and she is happy to forget all the bullshit flowing around her mind, the anguish that it’s brought down on her, and just enjoys the night until it ends.

[[Nini! Thanks for the scene!]]