Sepokku
A Menace
Dani let out a sigh and stepped out of Riaan's truck. The old warhorse sputtered away as their pack mingled among the socialites gathered for the event. Being here was a bad idea, she was overly exposed and entrance to the Ball required her to be disarmed of all but her most concealable defensive implements. With an annoyed roll of her eyes, she fixed the cuff of her dress shirt and made sure that her suit jacket sat comfortably on her shoulders.
Most of Paradise City's elite were present, bloodsucking leeches showing up in equal number to mages, members of her own pack, and even humans who were privy to the goings-on of the town's underworld. Personally, she would have preferred to stay home, but a deal with the City's Genius Loci meant her attendance was more than mandatory, it was inevitable. Already growing bored, she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and resituated her mask so that it sat equidistant across her face. She had originally chosen a different outfit for the occasion but had been forced to change it up last second after several Juno genii demanded to be worn to the event.
Floating amongst the sea of people, she suddenly found herself tired of standing around, boredom already starting to set in. This wasn't her sort of shindig, not by a mile. With a groan, she fished out the flask that she had in her suit pocket and took a swig of the bourbon within. The warmth trickled pleasantly down her throat, a fiery oak flavor that joined the red meat she had eaten for dinner only an hour earlier.
One of the bouncers at the door cleared his throat, "No outside food or drink."
For a moment she considered just chucking the flask at his head. However, she wasn't here as Dani. No, she was here as a representative of Paradise City's Lycan population, and more importantly, as an emissary to the spirits. The crass behavior she instinctively resorted to would have to be benched for the foreseeable future. Rolling her eyes, she took another long pull from the flask, draining it in three loud swallows; then she burped in his face. The crass behavior would have to be benched, starting now.
Without further fanfare, she strode into the venue, making her way into the center of the ballroom. The first waitstaff she saw had a tray of hors d'oeuvres, which wasn't what she wanted at that particular moment. Rather she was looking for someone carrying... "Refreshments!" Weaving through the crowd, she made her way to a dour faced gentleman with a bottle of wine and several glasses. Grabbing two glasses, she started to walk away, her fingers wrapped delicately around the stem of the glasses.
The dour faced gentlemen cleared his throat and gave her a judgmental look.
"It's a party don't be a dick." She stuck her tongue out at the man and went to take a drink. In unison, the genii bound to her mask started to freak out. The cacophony of voices suddenly rose up in her ears all at once. Dropping both glasses, she put a hand to the side of her head as they shattered, leaving dark red liquid flecked with shards of crystal on the floor. She started to gently knead her temple as the waiter looked at her with contempt. "Sorry. Vertigo, you never know what's going to set it off." A shit-eating grin plastered itself across her face as she lied to the obnoxious man.
Without waiting for him to start pestering her further she made her way to the other side of the room. The spirits immediately returned to their silent vigil; they were behaving oddly tonight. Even Hayk had demanded to be to be brought along, her hand instinctively went to the polymer handle that was tucked into her pants. She had been forced to dissemble the gun to sneak it past security, along with printing out polymer replacements for usually metal parts, including the bullets. All-in-all, she figured it would be good for a thousand or so rounds, more than enough to survive the night.
Wrinkling her nose she looked around the room, her eyes settling on two strange men sitting at a bar near the corner. Making her way over to them, a moment passed as she appreciated each of their attires. With a sniff she addressed the one wearing an electronic helmet first, "Your mask is ugly." Then she turned to the other, "Yours is only marginally better, Royal Protector, you could do better."
Knocking a fist against the bar, she ordered a "Corpse Reviver Number Two." Then launched into an explanation of her grading rubric. Pointing a finger at the one in a white shirt, she informed him, "Your mask is programmable and color changing, meaning it completely defeats the purpose of a Bal Masque. And you..!" She turned towards the other man, taking an exaggerated pause, "Yours falls into the latter category between the two options of black and white, but other than that says very little; and it says it quite poorly, might I add. It effuses tragedy without actually giving any sort of commentary. Quite tactless if you ask me."
The bartender placed her prepared drink in front of her. Her hand went to the glass, but before she could grab it, one of her mask's genii pushed her hand forward, knocking the glass over. "Are you fuckin' kidding me?!"
Athanas Maverick Six
Most of Paradise City's elite were present, bloodsucking leeches showing up in equal number to mages, members of her own pack, and even humans who were privy to the goings-on of the town's underworld. Personally, she would have preferred to stay home, but a deal with the City's Genius Loci meant her attendance was more than mandatory, it was inevitable. Already growing bored, she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and resituated her mask so that it sat equidistant across her face. She had originally chosen a different outfit for the occasion but had been forced to change it up last second after several Juno genii demanded to be worn to the event.
Floating amongst the sea of people, she suddenly found herself tired of standing around, boredom already starting to set in. This wasn't her sort of shindig, not by a mile. With a groan, she fished out the flask that she had in her suit pocket and took a swig of the bourbon within. The warmth trickled pleasantly down her throat, a fiery oak flavor that joined the red meat she had eaten for dinner only an hour earlier.
One of the bouncers at the door cleared his throat, "No outside food or drink."
For a moment she considered just chucking the flask at his head. However, she wasn't here as Dani. No, she was here as a representative of Paradise City's Lycan population, and more importantly, as an emissary to the spirits. The crass behavior she instinctively resorted to would have to be benched for the foreseeable future. Rolling her eyes, she took another long pull from the flask, draining it in three loud swallows; then she burped in his face. The crass behavior would have to be benched, starting now.
Without further fanfare, she strode into the venue, making her way into the center of the ballroom. The first waitstaff she saw had a tray of hors d'oeuvres, which wasn't what she wanted at that particular moment. Rather she was looking for someone carrying... "Refreshments!" Weaving through the crowd, she made her way to a dour faced gentleman with a bottle of wine and several glasses. Grabbing two glasses, she started to walk away, her fingers wrapped delicately around the stem of the glasses.
The dour faced gentlemen cleared his throat and gave her a judgmental look.
"It's a party don't be a dick." She stuck her tongue out at the man and went to take a drink. In unison, the genii bound to her mask started to freak out. The cacophony of voices suddenly rose up in her ears all at once. Dropping both glasses, she put a hand to the side of her head as they shattered, leaving dark red liquid flecked with shards of crystal on the floor. She started to gently knead her temple as the waiter looked at her with contempt. "Sorry. Vertigo, you never know what's going to set it off." A shit-eating grin plastered itself across her face as she lied to the obnoxious man.
Without waiting for him to start pestering her further she made her way to the other side of the room. The spirits immediately returned to their silent vigil; they were behaving oddly tonight. Even Hayk had demanded to be to be brought along, her hand instinctively went to the polymer handle that was tucked into her pants. She had been forced to dissemble the gun to sneak it past security, along with printing out polymer replacements for usually metal parts, including the bullets. All-in-all, she figured it would be good for a thousand or so rounds, more than enough to survive the night.
Wrinkling her nose she looked around the room, her eyes settling on two strange men sitting at a bar near the corner. Making her way over to them, a moment passed as she appreciated each of their attires. With a sniff she addressed the one wearing an electronic helmet first, "Your mask is ugly." Then she turned to the other, "Yours is only marginally better, Royal Protector, you could do better."
Knocking a fist against the bar, she ordered a "Corpse Reviver Number Two." Then launched into an explanation of her grading rubric. Pointing a finger at the one in a white shirt, she informed him, "Your mask is programmable and color changing, meaning it completely defeats the purpose of a Bal Masque. And you..!" She turned towards the other man, taking an exaggerated pause, "Yours falls into the latter category between the two options of black and white, but other than that says very little; and it says it quite poorly, might I add. It effuses tragedy without actually giving any sort of commentary. Quite tactless if you ask me."
The bartender placed her prepared drink in front of her. Her hand went to the glass, but before she could grab it, one of her mask's genii pushed her hand forward, knocking the glass over. "Are you fuckin' kidding me?!"
Athanas Maverick Six
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