Northern Winds [NC-17] (IC)

[Boog]

"If they're the ones doing grown up stuff, how come I'M the one who needs babysitting?" Gears turned in Richards head, grinding the information before him into a fine, sifted plan... "Some random undead who was dragged along with that lot, who doesn't know shit about what they're doing or where they're headed?" He laughed again harshly, louder this time. "Don't you get it? For @#$%'s sake you little idiot, I'M the one babysitting! The only reason they'd pick me up is to keep YOU from getting underfoot! Think about it," The zombie leaned forward, sunken eyes staring hard into Carey's, "The most use I was to that pack of lunatics was as a damn driver and, as you can see, not a perminent one. I'm guessing Ace and Laertes' little party also needed a temp," He laughed this time, softer, "But then the temp wouldn't go away. So how do you keep some untrained little twit you didn't need or account for from lousing up your scheme? You make up something far away from anything that might be important," Richard leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes, "'Mommy and Daddy have to go to work, Carey. So do Mommy a favor and make sure the funny man doesn't go anywhere. You be a big boy while we're out and do that for me.' Really, kid, the parallels are pretty damn obvious."

[Cogidubnus]

Walking through the club in somewhat a daze, Cog found himself wandering up to a bar set a little distance from one of the waterfall-glazed dancing floors, the mist from the falling water just barely palpable from the barstool seats. The roar of the water kept the music -just- somewhat at bay, and the seats offered a good position to watch the door over the barkeep's shoulder. Taking a seat on one of the vinyl chairs, the wolf waved a bit to catch the bartender's attention as he got ready for a long night of watching, and probably a bit of terror.

The sound of the water wasn't so much to make speaking difficult, and as the wolf opened his mouth, he saw the words 'FULL SERVICE KITCHEN' written in script on a board tucked just in range of sight along one of the shelves behind the counter. Cog stopped for a moment, thinking, and then grinned, looking at the barkeep sardonically before speaking.
"Six cubes of crushed ice, one-half shot of triple sec, shot of brandy, a shot of cherry herring, a half-shot of sour mix, a third shot of grenadine, three slices of orange and six ounces of champagne in a highball glass and a basket of fries covered in gravy and cheese....if you please." the wolf said, drawing out the last bit and giving the barkeep a slightly amused expression while he kept one eye on the door.

*  *  *

There was nothing wrong with a good time, every now and again. Taking a slow drink of deep, red wine out of an almost bulbous wine glass, the the red-robed black Jackal took a slow look across the crowd from the second-floor balcony. The energy of the place was almost palpable, and although he disapproved of...several of the club's tendencies, he couldn't deny the invigorating feeling brought on by the atmosphere. A little excitement every now and then, certainly nothing wrong with -that-...

Laertes sighed, feeling the odd rush that always came before these sorts of things, and letting his strangely blank, violet-glowing eyes settle on a Doberman coming through the entrance to the club.
At least, she wanted someone to think she was a Doberman.

The succubus was giving a languid grin to another Jackal, the being obviously unaware of the other's true species. Odd, in some ways. Two Jackals - one a black-backed one, a rather rare sight. Especially after...well. The black Jackal finished the rest of his wine down, savoring it slowly, and set the empty glass down on the wooden edge of the balcony as he made for the stairs, his curiosity piqued.

Taking just a few moments, the Jackal descended the stairs gracefully and navigated to the front of the club, avoiding dancing patrons and waiters alike with equal ease. He reached the front in short order. He coughed, and tapped on the Jackal-pretending-to-be-a-Doberman's shoulder.

"I don't know why, madam, but I feel like I've seen you before." Laertes said politely, making a small bow. He turned to the other Jackal, tilting his head. "I do think the lady is fine, Chaimaki." he said, turning his head back to the succubus.
"Have we met?"

[Aisha deCabre]

As Aisha entered the club, she followed along with the others, and nearly bypassed them when they were stopped at the foyer and asked for things to hold like weapons and coats.  She hung around, however, observing the mannerisms.  Colorful appearances, she noticed of the workers, clad in festive garments and friendly gestures toward their guests.

Outside of her range of vision, but well within hearing, she could hear the music beating across the walls and through doors.  It was like the building itself had a pulse; the party, its heart.  At least nobody seemed to bother herself or Gareeku...their weapons left elsewhere, they were more than prepared to go on ahead...he with his suit and she with her dress.  Still, just out of courtesy, Aisha waited for the others before entering the heart of the club.

And what a sight it was.  It wasn't the music that she had to get used to more than the appearance and feel of the grandiose place.  Not much wonder why there are people still in line, she thought with a smirk and eyed the scene.  It was bigger than she expected, as was everything in the city.  Already, the group was overwhelmed by the atmosphere, the outside disappearing behind them while entering into a vivid, alive world rippling with dancing and a mix of peculiar scents.

Lively and impressive as it was, Aisha suddenly felt more comfortable staying somewhere within eyeshot of the exit, though she watched some of the others fan out at their leisure.  How long will THIS festivity last...?

[SpottedKitty]

The small woman glared up at Stygian, plainly annoyed, although she made no move to stop him dabbing at the wine stain splashed on the shoulder of her dress. Her appearance was... odd to Stygian's eyes: like, but not quite like a ferret, although her scent was about right and definitely female. Short and thin, with vivid chestnut brown fur, a bright white blaze running down from her muzzle and throat before vanishing down the neckline of her green silk dress. Even her tail wasn't quite right for a ferret, longer and bushier with a black tip. The woman wore some jewellery, mostly silver: a brooch on her dress with a large inset amethyst, a few bar clips around the edges of her ears, and bracelets, all intricately engraved. She seemed to have no actual hair on her head, just a thicker growth of slightly darker fur. Large purple eyes reflected the flickering light in the hall. Her expression shifted suddenly to a mischievous grin, her sharp fangs gleaming briefly.

"No harm done, my good sir," she said, her voice high-pitched and quick, with an odd accent, "although I have had more original introductions. Kerya is my name, perhaps we may meet again later tonight...?" Her dress now as dry as a quick mop-up could manage, Kerya winked up at Stygian and, before he could reply, she turned towards the row of booths lining the wall of the huge room. Before he lost her in the crowd, Stygian thought he saw something surrounding the woman, almost like a barely visible heat haze. Or perhaps the flickering lights were fooling his eyes.

[Sunblink]

...Keaton:

Much to Keaton's eternal relief, the golden jackal wasn't present to flirt with her. In fact, far from it--according to the polite gesture he made and his words, he was merely an attendant there to take her coat. Expertly concealing her ephemeral gratitude, Keaton was just about to open her mouth to tell him that she, "regretfully," did not need any assistance, but simultaneous to the moment the first syllable left her mouth she heard someone else speak.

Tapered ears swiveled upright as Keaton's head pivoted towards the sable-furred jackal standing nearby, her expression nearly contorting as that familiar amusement played at her when, for the second time, irony struck at her. Apparently jackals were more frequent outside of her clan than she had imagined.

But this... this was just a bizarre one. While her group had arrived dressed formally, he was robed in sanguine, and his eyes were almost glass-like, empty and vacant, made lively only by the strangely ethereal purple glaze which flickered over them. Was she the only one who noticed that? Or--

In a flash, Keaton recalled the description Xianxi had given her of one of those who were interrogating Richard.

A black jackal.

Fuck.

Keaton was able to keep the anxiety from her face, still retaining that look of serene grace uncharacteristic of her real demeanor. If this was the jackal who was with Richard, she needed some confirmation first.

"...I'm afraid not," Keaton said, using a voice drastically unlike her own. Husky, almost smoky, yet accentuating the limber frame and stature of her Doberman disguise. "I could be wrong, though. May I ask what your name is?"

~Keaton the Black Jackal

[Stygian]

Standing straight again, Stygian blinked and then looked after the little woman as she walked off, confident and remarkable in a way that put all height aside. His hands folding his kerchief together and tucking it back on their own, the bat made a little dark leer. An aura of some sort hinted after her, even through the two people who passed behind her before she vanished into the throng. Don't get your hopes up, he thought sarcastically to himself. But it would be a pleasure. Biting his lip slightly with a fang, he turned, and seated himself at a table in wait for the others.
   The band ended the finale stylishly with a variant chorus and then four quick riffs from the bass guitar. The silence lasted only an instant, before applause broke out and the musicians standing bowed quickly. The lead guitarist then played a quick few notes, and then leaned forward to the microphone.
   'Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to our little event,' the leopard said with a smirk, his voice echoing throughout the locale. 'We hope you've enjoyed these humble beguilements.' Another cheer from a few in the crowd. 'And now we'd like to present you with a little special we've saved for tonight.'
   A pretty antelope waitress appeared not half a minute after Stygian had seated himself, and he quickly ordered a Satan's Whiskers. When he stuck a bill in the rim of her sparse garb and nipped her bottom with his claws she only giggled and skipped a little, giving him a coy look and then vanishing quickly into the crowd. So they know how to behave even, he thought, still smirking.

Kerya left the bat behind, the strangely dark-eyed man looking slyly after her. Had it not been for his species and that white suit one could have taken him for one of the attenders. She had only to enter the booth at the wall before one of the serf-like waiters, a boyishly pretty and trim desert hare approached her and bowed slightly, hands behind his back. 'Good evening, miss. Will you have something?' he asked carefully.
   'Tonight we have the pleasure of introducing to you,' the guitarist and speaker continued, 'the woman who we all have to thank for this relief from the dark and the cold boredom. She took the hand of the City Council and the arm along with it. Let's give it up for the midnight mistress, the goddess of the Red Sands...' He struck an arm out toward the center stage. 'Sekhmet!'
   Darkness fell over the club. And then the slow, alluring and complex tune of a reed flute rose in the background as a warm, dim light spread along the stage...

- -

The otter whipped his head around and opened his mouth, looking as if he were about to say something but just couldn't come up with the words. Then he sighed.
   'Fine. So? What with it?' he hissed at Richard. 'I can take you in there, but if you think I'm letting up watch over you...' He put two fingers into a pocket and then pulled out a handcuff. 'And if you think of doing anything strange, then just watch. Just 'cuz you can't feel anything doesn't mean that losing a part of that rotting body won't be a bad thing.' He grabbed one of the baboon's hands and slapped the cuff on his wrist.

[Cogidubnus]

 "Laertes." the Jackal said kindly, giving the 'Doberman' a warm smile as he made a slight bow. He kept his eyes locked with the succubus's own, the violet light fading from his orbs as they turned a vibrant silver, losing the dead, flat look they had before. He gave her a friendly look as the music starting coming to a crescendo, tilting his head somewhat.
"And your name is...?" he said politely as he stepped aside, giving the Jackal succubus a bit of space.

Red lights descended upon the stage, and turning his head, Laertes's face darkened for just a moment as he viewed the stage. There was something...unnerving, about the Jackal's displeasure. The look disappeared almost as quickly as it came, the Jackal turning and giving Keaton a surprisingly genuine smile.
"I'm not quite certain, miss, but you seemed almost a bit different from up on the balcony. Perhaps I have mistaken you for someone else." he said, only the must subtle hint of knowledge at the back of that statement. "Still, I can't shake the feeling that I've seen you somewhere before. Perhaps," the Jackal paused, tilting his head, "You have an apartment in the city? I just recently took up residence here myself..." The Jackal trailed off, looking at the succubus appraisingly.

[Sunblink]

...Keaton:

"Laertes."

Ah fuck. Well that just cemented it. At this point Keaton was finding it increasingly difficult to hide her anxiety, composure be damned, especially as she frantically tried to recall where Stygian or any other capable fighter had went. Considering Stygian seemed rather familiar with Laertes, informing him first would probably be paramount. Unconsciously, Keaton grated her heel against the floor, relieving what pent-up stress her body contained through that singular motion.

Oh wait. He was asking her name. Shitshitshit, what was her pseudonym again? Thankfully, Keaton was able to recover that memory in almost a split second of uncertainty, in which she immediately responded, "Cassandra."

She assumed it was an appropriate name.

Out of the corner of her eyes, a flash of red lights had illuminated the nearby stage, casting about it like a sanguine halo. Averting her eyes, Keaton stared with artificial fascination at the opening presented on the stage, praying that it would thoroughly distract the other jackal, but upon noticing the unpleasant metamorphosis in his expression these hopes were soon dashed. When she thought it couldn't get any worse, it got worse. He was dropping hints about her eavesdropping on his conversation with Richard. He knew. He absolutely knew. Why else would he be talking about this?

"I..." Keaton reached up, fidgeting with a ringlet of hair. "No, I'm from out of town. I'm just visiting. Can you... excuse me for a moment?"

She gave no excuses. Right now she couldn't come up with an alibi. She just wanted to get the fuck to Stygian and tell him.

~Keaton the Black Jackal

[SpottedKitty]

Kerya turned to face the waiter, indicating her nearly empty glass. "Another glass of wine, please." She raised the glass to her muzzle and lapped quickly at what was left after her collision with the tall bat. The other occupant of the booth, a white-furred rabbit with fashionably styled short blonde hair and wearing a black skirt and red blouse that seemed too plain and businesslike for the club's usual customers, looked curiously at Kerya and raised one eyebrow.

"So," she asked in a low, husky voice, "did it work to your satisfaction?"

Kerya finished the last of the wine, smiled and nodded. "It did indeed, m'lady Crys. We have a deal, then, as soon as we agree on exactly what each of us may wish to trade." She held up one hand, as if inspecting her claw polish, and performed what seemed to be a one-handed cat's cradle. Faint sparks of light danced among her clawtips, and she made  a little hmph of satisfaction. "Much as I enjoy the novelties of this place, I —"

Suddenly the lights faded away to near total darkness. Kerya had been half-listening to the music since she arrived, swishing her tail to the beat at the parts she'd liked, and had barely noticed one of the musicians making an announcement. "Later..." she murmured to the rabbit as a thin, breathy whistling started up again and the lights slowly brightened on the stage. It seemed some special event was about to begin.

[Gareeku]

Ignoring the remarks coming from the crowd as they moved to enter the club, Gareeku did not bother to look at anyone else, merely looking straight ahead as they entered, not appreciating the look that Stygian had given him. Once inside, the noise and atmosphere immediately hit the wolf. However, he was swift to put that impact to the side. Looking around, the wolf observed the club from his position, watching the others fan out around the club.

"I need a drink."

[Cogidubnus]

 "Of course. Cassandra." The Jackal said, giving the succubus yet another warm smile. He made a small bow, turning from the hidden Jackal and walking away slowly - although his expression still seemed warm, his eyes glinted with an almost amusement.

He declined another glass of wine from a passing steward, no longer walking towards the balcony, but headed for a small alcove in the back, beneath one of the waterfalls. Completely at ease, it took him but a moment to navigate through the crowd.

As he turned to walk along the pathway that ran to the sides of the pouring water, he turned in a seemingly arbitrary direction, giving a warm smile and a bow to no one who was immediately apparent before he turned and disappeared beneath the falling water.

* * *

Cog took a absent sip from his drink, his eyes narrow and dark beneath his shades. He was looking over the shoulder of the bartender, only absently nibbing at his food - the bartender was giving him another one of those sour looks, shaking his head at what seemed to be a heart attack in a basket, but Cog paid him little mind. The wolf's focus was on the front of the room.

Right there, just outside of the entry hall. That bastard. Cog's eyes fairly smoked, and the wolf twitched as his hand grabbed at empty air where his sword used to be. By force of will, the wolf set his hand back up on the table, although his eye kept dodging back to the cane leaning against the bar's counter. He ground his teeth, and took another sip of his drink, watching Laertes and Keaton speak.

Cog's ear twitched. The Jackal had said something - Keaton's face was composed, but the succubus was becoming increasingly agitated, grinding her foot against the floor and playing with her hair. The red-robed Jackal seemed to have gotten what he wanted, and making a small bow walked away, heading for one of the waterfalls. Cog kept his eye on him.

As the Jackal reached the waterfall, however, he turned and stared straight at the wolf, smiling and making a small bow at Cog before disappearing into the water. Cog snarled, almost standing up before he caught the bartender looking warily at him, and sat back down. He pushed his drink away, turning and sliding off the barstool and grabbing his cane.
"Sorry. I'm a mean drunk, and I can't hold my liquor." the wolf said, leaving the bar and looking for the bat.
This needed to end quickly.

[Stygian]

The fluid and dim light of torches lit up the center stage, shadows moving at its back. And then, calmly and gracefully as the feline she was and more, a lioness strode out from them. The music slowly rose, as langorously and seductively as she moved, that single flute climbing and swaying as she slid into the light.
   She was gorgeous, yet in an almost intimidating way, a slender but well-muscled shape only barely hidden behind sleek silk and decorate gold jewelry. Tall and strong yet impossibly graceful, she exhuded beauty and power to such a degree that it sent a shiver up the spine of all those present. The only ones who carried on without looking toward the stage were the attendants, using this moment of lessened attention to slip away and take care of smaller things. Stygian seemed the only one who didn't just stare. His face instead was one of contempt.
   You bitch, he thought.
   The lioness sauntered up to the microphone, grasped it like one would a lover before kissing, and began to sing in a murky, luscious voice with trembling microtones.
   'It's cold outside... and it gets to you... The empty, lonely chill it draws you out and seeps right through and through...' Her voice was almost hypnotic, as powerful and seductive as her looks. 'But let me warm you, poor stranger, let me take you in... 'Cause there is warmth for you near, a fire glowing here! A temptation within reach, a sensation so dear, all here within my palace of sin...!'
   The guitar wailed along with her voice as the intro ended, and then came the beat and the riffs, hard and strong but dancing. Dancers slowly moved out behind the lioness, taking position along the stage and equally slowly beginning their routine.
   'Kindle the flame baby, watch as it consumes. Throw away your worries, let them burn to dust! Open up your senses, take a deep breath from the fumes, let doubts and fears be overcome by lust...!' she sang, swaying with the beat as the dancers swung and stepped in tune.
   Stygian listened to the music, tapping his foot slightly, though his expression remained unimpressed. Why do you do this, you bitch? he thought. There has to be a reason.

[Boog]

Richard couldn't help but chuckle a little at the singer as he sat at his table toward the edge of the room. As promised, Carey had brought him inside and as promised, Richard hadn't done anything strange. Seeing as the attendants had just waved the two of them on in, taking the handcuffs in stride (Feh, probably got that all the time. Weirdos.), he figured he'd gotten the better end of the arrangement. He simply sat and tried to see if he recognized anyone through the throngs of people. Over to his left was some Gryphon, effeminine looking sorta guy dressed to stand out in this crowd (that is to say, fully clothed) and to his right was Carey. Richard simply say and observed, ignoring nothing but the handcuffs on his wrist under the table.

[Mel Dragonkitty]

The little arctic fox delicately picked her way through the crowd to the bar. Ordering a drink she admired both the help at the bar and the effortless efficiency of the way in which each customer was attended to by staff of appropriate gender. She appreciated the effort as the bartender turned to reach for something. Nice set of back muscles for a non-winged creature.

Drink in hand she wandered to a spot where the fine spray from one of the waterfalls cooled the area, uncaring of the effect on her white dress. While the feeling of desert heat was in large part psychological it still had a depressing effect on a creature of glacial fields. She tried to pick out the location of the other members of the group while admiring the beautiful people. The entrance of the singer riveted all attention in that direction, making the odd movement in other directions easier to pick out.

[Cogidubnus]

 Cogidubnus stood still amongst the dancing, thronging crowd a moment, lost.

The sudden presence of Sehkmet on stage seemed to have invigorated the club, everyone there either watching in awe or dancing in some way to the lioness's sultry voice and seductive movements. Cog glanced at the stage for a moment, his shades reflecting the dancing feline, his face seemingly expressionless. He looked down a moment later and around the crowd, searching for the bat.

He took a moment to find the entrance, and tried to remember where the bat had walked off to. A moment later he caught sight of him, sitting by himself in a booth off to the side, and looking rather nonplussed. Cog navigated through the crowd quickly, ignoring the lilting sound of the lioness's voice and the wailing of the electric guitar behind it. A few moments later he reached the bat's table and slid into a seat, not saying anything for a moment before looking over at Stygian.

"This needs to end quickly." the wolf said, catching the bat's eyes. His face was dark. "Laertes knows we're here. He's already found Keaton."

[Sunblink]

...Keaton:
The instant she was granted permission, Keaton whipped away from Laertes and trudged rapidly away from the jackal, attempting to mask the panic in her formerly graceful and willowy posture. Undermining this seemed to be the clockwork tattoo of her heels against the floor, each drumming tap, click, or tick emphasizing her urgency to escape. Soon, as the lights further dimmed and all sources swiveled in concentrated columns toward the stage, torches igniting in sulfuric stems and fires billowing and blazing, she seemed to vanish under the cloak of darkness. The dark coloration of her dress and fur only aided this chameleon-conversion, combined with how deliberately she swerved away from the punctuated shiftings of incendiary light.

Up on stage was a powerful-looking lioness, simply gorgeous and only accentuated by the extravagant golden jewelry and ornaments festooning her muscular, mighty body. Her voice was entrancing and strong, but Keaton remained distanced despite the chills creeping up her spine, eyes still skimming over the various patrons seated at their tables from behind her bizarrely-shaped glasses. Gaze swept towards the golden-white blur sitting nearby, accompanied by another familiar shape--that of Cogidubnus, she presumed. Picking up her pace, she headed over, stopping beside the two.

"Styg!" she snarled, dropping her fake voice. "Laertes is here. I think he recognizes me. He keeps dropping hints about the apartment, and--gah! He knows it's me."

---

...Deirdre:

Unsurprisingly, even Deirdre was among those captivated by the dancing lioness's performance, her fingers knitted like a steeple beneath her rigid, bristled chin, ears perked and tilted forward to listen to the music radiating from the stage. Having a deep appreciation for music and possessing a singing voice herself, Deirdre was more than enraptured with the display, not to mention the stature of the singer as well. Some of her beauty was garbled by the cataracts, reducing some of her features to indistinct blurs, but from what she could tell, she was breathtaking.

This is more than worth the bull I had to go through to come here, she thought, humming slightly under her breath.

To her side, she noticed a few other figures entering. An Undead and two other odd fellows, it seemed. Ah well. Considering... well, how she was, Deirdre sure as hell wasn't going to judg--wait, what was that on his wrist? Her eyes narrowed for a moment, struggling to make out the silvery length she saw hooking their wrists together. Were those... handcuffs?

~Keaton the Black Jackal

[Tezkat]

"Who's Laertes, anyway?"

Edge appeared at the booth carrying a goblet of red wine in one hand and a bowl of cashew nuts in the other. He set the latter on the table and slid into one of the seats. He cocked his head and eyed Cog and Keaton curiously, but his attention eventually drifted away to the figure on stage.

"Entrancing even without her powers..." The dark jaguar took a sip of his wine. "I have to say, she's much better looking as a chick."

As he watched the lioness's performance, his gaze became distant... unfocused. Behind him, his tail continued its rhyrthmic oscillation in time to her song.

+ + +

A black fox emerged from behind a column. In a satin-sheened blue suit that matched his eyes, he was dressed to kill. Or at least, to hunt. He prowled through the jungle of music and light amid throngs of well-dressed wildlife. An unexpectedly familiar figure at a side table caught his attention. He weaved through the crowd of dancers and slinked off to the edge of the club to come up behind his target.

"So you showed up after all. And it's not even jazz night!"

The fox was almost leaning over Richard's shoulder so as to be heard over the music. He waved an attendent over and then helped himself to an empty seat at the table before anyone had a chance to reply. It didn't escape his notice that the baboon and the otter were "holding hands" under the table. He grinned.

"I'm not... uh... interrupting anything, am I? I'll buy a round, and you can introduce me to your friend."

[Boog]

"Oh hey, fancy seeing you again," Richard replied cheerfully (tip off the first that there was something wrong), "Nah, not interrupting anything. Now pay attention Carey, this is the better class of company to fall in with. The kind that you can get free drinks out of," the undead chuckled and drummed his fingers on the table, "So, what brings you to a dive like this? After all, you get some disreputable folks in places where the staff dresses like this. Thugs, adventurers, monsters, mafiosos... Undesirables of all sorts. So what's up?"

[SpottedKitty]

From the first words sung, Kerya was entranced. She sat there staring wide-eyed at the lioness, barely moving. The rabbit looked curiously across the table at her, but after a minute or so it was clear the little stoat was completely enthralled — whatever hold the singer had on most of the people in the hall, the effect was much more extreme on Kerya. The rabbit snorted in annoyance and glared at the lioness for most of the song, then her expression grew more calculating and thoughtful. As the song ended she looked sideways at Kerya. The smile twisting her muzzle now had a sinister cast. In the dim lighting of the booth, far from the brightly lit stage, the rabbit's eyes began to glow softly.

[Aisha deCabre]

For a while, Aisha took on an easy role as a wallflower amidst the crowded party, virtually unseen while people passed her without much of a glance.  Any glance that she did get would perhaps have been quickly discouraged by a distant, distracted look on her face...narrowed red eyes frequently catching the light against black fur, expression seemingly dour and uninterested at the atmosphere and the goings-on.  Were this nothing more than a party, the panthress would have probably joined in the festivities.  Already a couple of her friends had chosen to make a beeline for the bar.

She wasn't completely out of the party's influence, however.  After a moment, she lost focus on trying to keep an eye on her friends and dazed out somewhat, just trying to make herself relax and blend in while listening to the music...after all, being quiet and insociable in this place was probably enough of a grounds for suspect.  Her tail swished in time with the melody, and one foot tapped on the floor, while her eyes wandered over the crowd and the club's workers...all festive and tuned to liven up the already heated feel of the air.

Aisha smoothed out her dress and had decided to meander into the dance floor to loosen up, when suddenly the main event was introduced and all eyes turned to the lioness on the stage.  She listened curiously to the announcer, then to her singing, as everyone seemed to be entranced by her.  Would that be the one then?  Hm, I wonder if I can count down the seconds before this chapter closes.

The hunter shook her head dismissively and practiced a few dance steps of her own; somewhere a little more away from larger throngs of people and back into her own mentality as per her practice.  She hadn't practiced dancing for quite a while, it could be seen, but only temporarily.  The panthress was quite graceful when she tried...as agile and fleet of foot as if she were sneaking, and as accurate to the music as she was to aiming at a target.

[Stygian]

After the second verse the lioness fell into another chorus, and the music rose in intensity, taking on even more hard rock-like qualities.
   'The sand glows red in the dark, in the night, the fire draws you out...!'
   Stygian snorted and had another swig of his own drink. 'Someone who's after me. What else did you expect?' he said, part gruffly part unconcernedly. 'I'm counting on him to mess this meeting up for me so we can get out earlier. If only that old crone hadn't decided to put on a show!' He hissed the last words, and it was plain to see who he was talking about.
   The lioness got past the bridge and into the finishing chorus, beginning to move along with the dancers as the music rose for the crescendo, before Stygian kicked back and got out of his seat, putting his hands in his pockets and turning.
   'Let's go, Keaton,' he said. 'I've had just about enough of this.' Then suddenly he stopped, and blinked. His head swiveled away from the direction of the dance floor where Aisha was moving better and better, to the other end of the second terrace.
   'Ah, shit,' he said, quite unexplanatorily. Then he started off in the exact direction of the otter, fox and baboon.

- -

When Edge, or what must have been one of his copies, as if it really mattered, entered the conversation, Carey glared up and almost hissed at him. He settled himself quickly though, listening to Richard's words and then making a discontented little sound.
   The problem for Edge though, was the difficulty of pulling of his casual little pretension act. For while he could remain shapeshifted inside the building, it was as if something was putting pressure on him while he did, making it much harder than it should have been to simply try and assume another form. And the extra magical component he was using to manifest and control the extension of his 'clone' was already under too much strain. He wouldn't be able to keep it up for long.
   Suddenly, as if having appeared by the same eye-defying means as the fox, a slender but statesteque zebra was beside them. Strangely, though he were as picture perfect and sparsely clad as all the other attenders, he was not smiling or seemingly content. Rather, he looked somewhat serious and grim.
   'Is everything to your liking, gentlemen?' he said, giving the fox a sideways glance. It might have been a trick of the fiery light, but for a moment there seemed to be a hint of a glow to the equine's eyes.

[Sunblink]

...Keaton:

In the background, Keaton could hear the spellbinding swelling and oscillating of the music, the heady air almost swaying along with the lioness singer's hypnotic movements. The audience was thoroughly captivated by the performance, probably to the point they didn't recognize nor concern themselves with the possibly suspicious gathering of people--one which was added to by who she assumed was an also-disguised Edge's arrival. Shapeshifting. Was there nothing it couldn't accomplish?

Well, since she had apparently been exposed by Laertes, there was, but that was beside the point.

Something Stygian said hit a chord with Keaton, however. The jackal-turned-Doberman arched an eyebrow in that skeptical manner commonly characterized with her standard form. "Old crone? Wait, are you saying that lady over there" - she jerked her thumb toward the crooning lioness - "is actually an ol--"

Before she could continue Stygian was already up and walking away, commanding for her to follow. Keaton cursed ungracefully under her breath and strutted after him, skidding to a halt when he unexpectedly froze in his tracks. He was staring over at Aisha. Cursing again, with a slight increase of volume, Keaton began to pursue him.

---

...Deirdre:

No longer bewitched with the lioness's demonstration, Deirdre leaned casually in her seat and toyed with one of the feathers of her wing's plumage, keeping an ear quizzically quirked in the direction of the baboon Undead (who was now talking rather enthusiastically in response to the black-furred, golden-haired fellow who had joined them). Deirdre was an Adventurer in the past. Not a particularly belligerent one, but an Adventurer nonetheless, and she was far from stupid. She understood when something was amiss. Almost a sixth sense, if you will.

The Gryphon blinked again, then her gaze snapped back to watch the monochromatic figure approaching them. A zebra, working for this establishment, appropriately clad, though with an uncharacteristically grim countenance about him, walked past her and towards the table. Walking somewhere behind him were three other figures, blurred by her cataracts, but distinguishable by color--one shape a very pale creamy white, another gray, the third outline black but crowned with blond, and a sleek black frame splotched with a subtle dab of white on his or her hip.

~Keaton the Black Jackal

[Stygian]

'An old hag, yes. Old as this city twice over and more,' Stygian replied, pacing forth quickly and decisively, weaving through the still dazzled people. The music ended with a stylish, exquisite and trembling finish, the lioness holding out a single note wailing and then letting it fall along with the guitar. When she stopped, there was a moment's silence, and then a riot of applause and whistling from the crowd, people toasting and cheering. She made a deep, cleavage-dominated bow and then blew a kiss and winked to the audience, and then swayed out back together with the dancers.
   Stygian stopped up by the table next to Edge and Richard, and when Carey looked up the otter almost jumped out of his seat. The bat glanced down at him disregardfully as if to say 'yes, there you are, did you think I didn't know?' for just one second and then looked to Richard.
   'What are you doing here? I thought you wanted nothing more to do with us,' he said, slightly irritatedly.

[Boog]

"I don't, but you know how this sort of business can be," Richard replied, applauding with his hands as close to fully visible as Carey would let them be, "Just keeps dragging you back in. Believe me, there's few other reasons I'd be caught in this sorta club," Judging by Carey's reaction, there was no longer any point in trying to be subtle or hide behind misleading small talk, "Hey, you know the singer? Don't think I've seen her around before, she's got talent."

[SpottedKitty]

Kerya was still spellbound as the lioness built her song up to a climax: she had barely twitched an ear or a whisker for several minutes, and at times seemed to be barely breathing. The only thing existing in her universe seemed to be the lioness, Sekhmet. The rabbit looked around at the nearby tables in a shifty-eyed manner. No-one was looking at them, and none of the delightfully-nearly-dressed attendants were approaching their booth.

She scooted around the table to sit beside Kerya, lay one hand on her head and quietly muttered a few words. A tentacle, its smooth skin coloured a buttery yellow, rose from somewhere behind the two women and gently stroked the side of Kerya's muzzle. The rabbit blinked and looked from the diminutive stoat at her side to the statuesque lioness down on the stage as she made her flamboyant exit. She made a noise that, if it could have been heard above the sudden thunderous cheering of the audience, would have been an incredibly dirty laugh.

As the applause died back down, the rabbit returned to the other side of the table, her eyes no longer glowing, with a very satisfied smile on her face. Kerya slowly turned, stiffly, as if her rigid body were a lodestone shifting to a new north. Her fascinated gaze found the rabbit and stopped.

Deep in Kerya's mind, sentience returned. Ow. Head hurts. What...? That lioness, she started singing, what did she DO? Why is Lady Crys just sitting there smiling? I can't move! I don't like the way she's smiling at me... oh scat, I think I've fallen in it up to my neck again...

[Sunblink]

...Keaton:

As Keaton struggled to keep up with Stygian while at the same time composing her countenance so to not look suspicious, she repeatedly and internally cursed every little cumbersome circumstance or inconvenience which hindered her. She cursed how voluminous her dress was, she cursed how fast Stygian was moving, she cursed Laertes for exposing her, and most of all she cursed the fact she was wearing high heels of all fucking things, all while liberally illustrating her love affair with the long-reviled "F" word.

All things considered, she didn't think it would be a concern about observing the appearances of those they were bypassing, especially since their targets were, in fact, Richard and those imprisoning him. A black fox nigh-identical to the one they had been conversing with had languidly begun to speak to him, making Keaton twitch. What did Edge think he was doing? This could compromise the--

In the midst of that irritable, infuriated tangent, Keaton had allowed her gaze to wander deliberately off to the side, towards Deirdre's table, where the Gryphon herself was watching with a wary and skeptical expression. Instantly, Keaton's mind pieced together the defining characteristics: androgynous figure, an amalgamation of goldenrod-ginger-tabby patterning and colors to her pelt, wrapped in formal clothing intended for men and crowned with a scruffy, windswept style equally masculine. She could see the pricklings of facial hair around Deirdre's chin, but it seemed to be fake...

No doubt about it. It was Deirdre Donnachaidh.

Fucking hell.

--

...Deirdre:

Deirdre had watched the ongoing exchange between the unexpected newcomers who had recently arrived at the table, each individual shape she had mentally described and categorized by color before now revealed, although slightly blurred. One was a tall chiropteran with alabaster fur tinged with slight accentuations of gold, another a gray wolf garbed in black, and the third a slender and curvaceous Doberman who was looking at her with what she believed to be stunned disbelief.

Deirdre was more than used to staring, but in this manner? It just unnerved her. Not to mention it was just plain rude. Fidgeting with her chair, Deirdre craned her body around, then looked, deadpan, at her scrutinizer. "I'm sorry, but can I help you?" she asked in a husky voice surprisingly feminine for her ambiguous gender.

~Keaton the Black Jackal

[Mel Dragonkitty]

Mel kept her place by the waterfall. There were fewer people there since not many cared for the fine spray of water and the noise of the falls limited enjoyment of music or conversation. The disguised dragon cared about neither. The spray kept her cool and she didn't need to hear to keep track of her companions. She might not have the hearing or sense of smell that others did, but like any high flying creatures dragons could see fine detail over long distances. Too bad the interesting gathering at the table had not had the courtesy to arrange themselves for her lip reading convenience. The body language didn't look too alarming as yet, though. Just then one of the servers got between her and the group, breaking her concentration. They were really starting to give Mel a creepy feeling. Their consistent perfection was not normal.

[Stygian]

Stygian closed his eyes, crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. It was one of those situations where it was just a waste of time trying to explain anything. 'Yes. No. Yes,' he said, not mentioning what he was referring to. Then he sniffed, and turned his head toward Keaton, who was standing and staring at a gryphon at another table. His gaze swept over the figure, and he quirked an eyebrow, before sighing as he realized that it was yet another thing that would be wasted time regarding.
   The bat let his left arm fall and put his other palm against his forehead in a gesture of hopelessness. Then he drew his fingers back through his long hair and let his hand rest on his neck. 'Keaton, take care of this, will you? I'll go see if the side entry is open. Follow me when you're done...' he said dispiritedly, and then simply walked off against the side of the club hall, leaving the others to straighten things out.
   The end of the show had set the band to playing some lower key music in the background and made the rest of the club come alive again, with patrons all ordering new drinks or things to eat at once, and Stygian had to go slow as he passed between all the attenders, tables, tall-legged chairs and people. It's a club, he thought, idly snatching a drink from a platter and placing a large bill on it. A very good club even. Maybe there will be some fun in before you have to do the inevitable and see her? He made a jaded smile and snorted as he strolled in behind the columns holding up the balconies of the floors above, walking along the booths set against the wall. Yeah. Sure, why not?
   Caught up in his moody thoughts, Stygian almost missed the ferret-like girl from before when he passed the booth where she was sitting with a lapine of some kind. Stopping just past the next booth, he caught himself and wondered. Had there been something going on there? Faint as instincts could be, his were fine-tuned, and mostly he grasped the moments when instinct was all one had to lead oneself. Or he was just lucky. Either way, something told him to stop and investigate.
   Calmly, as if he had meant to all along, Stygian turned, and sipping his drink sat down in the booth next to where the stoat and rabbit were, his back right to them. The other occupant of the booth, a plump lynx girl, looked up at him with irritation. 'That seat wa-' she began.
   Stygian's dark eyes met the feline's, and for a heartbeat the world stood still. Her voice faded mid-sentence, and with an unsteady look she returned to her own drink while looking anywhere else but at the bat, who calmly turned his head and attention in the direction of the two women behind him, listening in on them and sensing them through the commotion of the club.

[Tezkat]

The dark jaguar popped a cashew nut into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. Stygian and Keaton had left him back with the only other member of the group to have seen him fight. They weren't trying to kill each other at the moment, at least. He leaned back, absentmindedly swirling his wine around in the glass.

"You sound like you have personal experience with this Laertes character." He looked up at Cog, finally breaking the silence. "I've seen enough of the bat's abilities to know that even those who don't worry him may still present challenges to his... uh... entourage."

He reached for another cashew.

+ + +

"I came here for her, of course. Tonight's main attraction." The fox gestured towards the voluptuous figure making her way off stage. He leaned forward. "I've worked for her in the past, but I'd like to think that a night in a club like this won't be wasted on business."

The zebra momentarily out of mind, the vulpine Edge quietly observed the odd interaction between Keaton and the Gryphon while Carey's discomfort grew. Even with Stygian gone, the tension around the table remained thick enough to cut with a knife. Delicious. But not very productive.

He clapped his hands together.

"I'm sure all our problems will look better after a few drinks. What's everyone having?" He looked around the table, smiling, and then glanced up at the statuesque attendant looming behind him. "I'm buying."

[Sunblink]

...Keaton and Deirdre:

In response to the Gryphon's skeptically queried question, Keaton quickly felt her inflated tension pop, aloof facade dissolving along with that penultimate burst. Any instantaneous or misguided efforts to conjure up a plot or an excuse faded, perhaps to make way for the equally clumsy attempt for her to forge an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, I didn't" - Keaton struggled to find the words, trying not to sound as suspicious as she likely did - "mean to stare. My apologies."

Deirdre still looked apprehensive, ears quirked forward and a nonplussed expression adorning her beaked face. Again, the Gryphon scanned Keaton over for a petrifying few seconds, air bristling with tension, before her sulphur-hued gaze swept over to Stygian. He was speaking irritably to the Undead before he withdrew, apparently in frustration over something. Over the restarting of the music in the background as the momentary silence following the conclusion of the lioness's performance ended, she heard him mutter something about side entries. Once, the name "Keaton" had come up.

As though this were some sort of catalyst, Keaton froze and cursed subaudibly under her breath. Something akin to recognition flashed over Deirdre's features. "Keaton? Excuse me... but do I know you from somewhere?" she asked, adopting an attitude which was more befitting of an interrogator rather than someone purely curious.

Deirdre was aware of the fact she likely came across as rude and this would be infinitely awkward if the "Doberman" wasn't affiliated with her, but at this moment she was just becoming intimidated. However, almost as though she hadn't heard her, Keaton had turned around and was walking away, leaving Deirdre with nothing to do other than just blink and stare at her retreating back.

At this point Deirdre felt her resolve peter away into nothing but a dejected spark, sputtering hopelessly on its wick, but still alive, incarnated into curiosity that was only feverishly fueled by the sight of the archaic white marking resting on Keaton's hypnotically moving hip.

Rigid, angular, and shaped slightly like a bladed scythe of alabaster. Looked so familiar, but Deirdre wasn't going to act on it yet.

Almost reluctantly, Deirdre withdrew, prying her gaze from Keaton, and slumped. Fantastic.

---

...Keaton:

Keaton sighed, wiping invisible perspiration from her brow. That was a close one. Immediately, she scanned the crowd in search of the distinctively colored chiropteran, locating him at a booth nearby a stoat and a rabbit. She quickly walked over, heels drumming out its same, repetitively rhythmic tattoo against the floor.

~Keaton the Black Jackal