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Prodigal
 
Group: Basic Members
Last Login: 2 days ago @ 8:37 AM
Posts: 809,
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| [OC note - this takes place during the first half of downtime, once the various groups have made it to City. Anyone who Morgan gets wind of being in City will be invited.] Morgan is wearing an obviously expensive long dark red dress, made out of very shiny material, and slashed to mid thigh on one side. The dress is form fitting but not tight and has an assymetrical neckline set off by a large chromey pendant which is her only jewellery. There is no sign of the dark glasses she wore on her trip outside. Her nails and lips are both painted silver. The club itself is a respectable one, but not exclusive - Morgan has decided that too exclusive a venue might make some of her guests uneasy. This one has a good range of clientele. She sits at the bar and makes small talk with the barman (who she greets by name), and arranges a tab for her guests, before taking her drink and finding a seat near the bar. She mentally reviews the list of invitees, and briefly wonders if she will have the chance to lure Caplin off alone, but discards the thought. Tonight is about long term diplomacy and building bridges, her personal amusement can wait for another evening. She sits and sips her drink, waiting for her guests to start arriving.
_____________________________________________________ It is not a competition. It is a web forum.
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Prodigal
Group: Basic Members
Last Login: 2 days ago @ 1:55 AM
Posts: 864,
Visits: 2,484
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| Ketta Kharnan arrives. His practical if tatty black outdoor garb has been replaced with a jacket and typical city garb, and his combed crest shows signs of gradually recovering from too many days beneath a helmet. His ebony skin stands out against the pink humans, more so when the metallic pigments catch the dancing lights of the club. His veined ears twitch for a moment as they adapt to the music. Casting his eyes about as he enters, he avoids lingering at the entrance and makes his way over towards the bar.
------ <insert really amusing sig here>
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Heroic Knight
Group: Basic Members
Last Login: Monday, December 29, 2008 12:20 PM
Posts: 122,
Visits: 974
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It had been a while since she'd last frequented such a place....
..Carver entered the club and headed straight for the bar, her eyes noting the presence of Ketta and Morgan. She had made something of an effort to smarten herself up a bit but the ever present body armor, eye goggles and the new claw made her look pretty much as she always did now. A little shinier perhaps but still the same Carver, at least since her last foray outside.
Once she got to the bar, she slid onto a seat and ordered herself something. Her eyes closed for the shortest of moments, as if she was getting a feel for the music and then just as quickly, she opened them and acknowledged the others with a grin.
-----
"Whadda ya mean you killed him, cha cha cha?"Serenity: Broken armed Ann / Pvt. Cooper / Reavers #7, #12, etc.. {Crew}
Riftworld: Jen Carver, Cyberate Medic
Maelstrom: Dia, Wahotep Freedom Fighters 
LT: Countess Anya Von Trugelhof-McTaff, half-fiend and collector of all things blue, including Jackal ritualists
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Wag
Group: System Moderators
Last Login: Thursday, August 21, 2008 11:39 PM
Posts: 1,141,
Visits: 3,626
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Neven walked into the club, his body moving in time to the gentle beat of the tunes playing over the speakers. He was dressed in tight leather trousers and a black silk shirt clung loosly to his body. He looked around, savouring the sights and sounds of a City club for the first time inso longand trying not to bring to mind the uncomfortable images of those he had last been clubbing with, those who were now lost.
The assault of minds was strong and insistant as he weaved through the crowd on the dancefloor, he let it wash over him. It had a stench like sweat, strong pulses of emotions - lust, desire, greed. He drank them in, using them as a means to wipe out his own pain, though all they managed to do was dull them slightly.
The whispering in his head, always there, became slightly more insistant.
He walked towards the bar and saw his friends gathering there. Time to put on his brave face and hopefully relax some...
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------The Whispering God is your friend... trust the Whispering God... Ruins of Empire 1st - 3rd Feb, 2008, Gladstone scout centre, Chester
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Heroic Knight
Group: Basic Members
Last Login: Saturday, January 03, 2009 10:54 AM
Posts: 222,
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| Jenna looks a little subdued as she enters, perhaps not surprising to those who've only met her outside of City but would certainly seem a little odd to those who've met her at home before. She carries her head high though and has a look of determination in her melancholy expression. Escewing her usual black, she is wearing a short silver dress which flows smoothly, reflecting light in all directions. She moves slowly, relishing the sound all around her and the barrage of voices in the air. As she crosses the dancefloor she overhears a flicker of conversation and gives a slight smile of satisfaction, before tossing her head back and mentally shaking herself, ready to meet Nevan and any other challenges to a carefuly crafted facade. No Lucius, probably a good thing. She smiles as she spots Carver and Ketta standing out so much more than the stylish young things dressed for attention. Still smiling happily, she approached the group. "Hey guys. Just us so far, is it? So how's everyone?"
- ---------------------
- LT - Captain Iolanthe Swan
- Riftworld - Jenna Neraid, Clan Sceptre
- Brighton Below - Drizzle
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Heroic Knight
Group: Basic Members
Last Login: Monday, December 15, 2008 11:09 PM
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Seeing Jenna arive, Caplin peels himself out of the dancefloor without too much grace, but nobody seems to complain as he half walks, half grooves his way across to where the people gather.
He's wearing his fatigues open to the waist and a black vest over grey T-shirt, against which his dog-tags bump along with the pulsing beat of the music. His hair is damp with sweat from the unfamiliar heat of the club and a bead or two slide effortlessly down the part of his face that is no longer flesh.
His eyes take a while to pass Morgan's figure, but come to rest on Jenna as they meet... "There's one more freindly face at least," he says, coming in on the back of her speech, "they've let you out at last, I take it?"
Dave 2 / Man in Blue
LT - Artfiel Macenion Duvall, Knight of Celestial
EOS - Weeping Boar, War Sayer of the Mystwalker Tribe Maelstrom - Tal Rufen, Quicksilver Trading Riftworld - Cpl Caplin San Angelo, 48th Assault Recon
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Wag
Group: System Moderators
Last Login: Thursday, August 21, 2008 11:39 PM
Posts: 1,141,
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| [sarah here] Morgan notices that Caplin's eyes linger on her longer than strictly necessary and suppresses a smile. Half listening to the tall Shengui, she waits until Caplin's gaze next flits in her direction, tilts her drink and winks at him, before turning back to her conversation, not bothering to see what effect it has on the Xadacian. "Thats fascinating Ketta. May I ask you a question? Why did you choose to settle in City? I would have thought the psychic population of the West Litside might be more attractive to you?"
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Whispering God is your friend... trust the Whispering God... Ruins of Empire 1st - 3rd Feb, 2008, Gladstone scout centre, Chester
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Wag
Group: System Moderators
Last Login: Thursday, August 21, 2008 11:39 PM
Posts: 1,141,
Visits: 3,626
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| Neven feels the sexual tension between Caplin and Morgan as an almost palpable aura in the smoky air. He is surprised that the others cannot feel it, but then remembers that most of them are mindblind. Even without his empathic sense, however, it is easy to see the subtle signs. Morgan, clearly a trained diplomat, is better at hiding them than Caplin, who seems awkward in this place of social graces, but even her poker face slips slightly when Caplin looks at her appreciatingly. The wink was also a dead give-away which Caplin seems oblivious to. He downs a drink in one slug, not even caring what it is. He barely tastes the finely fermented grain spirit, though cannot avoid the jarring aftertaste taste that marks it as artificially created. Its a good facsimilie of a real grain spirit, akin to the finer Litside vintages, and the artificial taste is far less obvious than those he'd drunk in some of the rougher City clubs that Lyria and Crowe preferred, but the fact that it is there at all reminds Neven of where they are - safe in the walls of City but at the too high cost of their freedom. He orders another drink, noting that credit is not asked for - all drinks seem to be paid for on the Doosh account - and downs that as well, hoping that he can drown his mind and block out the sensations. He wished he'd found the time to follow his old mentor's advice and practised throwing up anything more than the most rudimentary shielding. He'd always preferred to push further down paths of increasing his power rather than blocking those of others. Another drink is ordered and he looks around at the people gatheredearby. They are all pairing off, talking intensely, many of them flirting. Morgan talks to Ketta briefly before moving off to talk to someone else, circulating round the group with a polite smile permanently on her face. Fearing the possibility that he may need to interact with someone verbally anytime soon, Neven turns to all those who have come here at Morgan's invitation. "So... whose for a dance, then?"
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Whispering God is your friend... trust the Whispering God... Ruins of Empire 1st - 3rd Feb, 2008, Gladstone scout centre, Chester
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