Northern Winds [NC-17] (IC)

[Aisha deCabre]

As Aisha walked out of the bathroom with Mel, she couldn't help but feel quite out of place, even when the others were dressed just as formally.  Still she glanced over the group, giving a complementary smile to each individual.  "Well, we all look handsome enough," she commented, giving a sideways glance to Gareeku as she did so.  Then she leaned back on the counter, having observed Edge offering mind shields to those who'd need it.  The panthress didn't speak up, feeling like she didn't; she was quite good at keeping any thoughts away from those who'd pry, however bold one would think the action was.

Then, the word was given to leave, and she cast a glance out into the evening.  It looked peaceful enough.  But behind the scene lay a deceitful background.  Here goes nothing...  The bat had walked out of the shop first...Aisha started meandering along just a close enough to the group, the dress she wore shimmering bronze under what lights were on outside...admittedly beautiful, she thought.  But still something to get used to.

[Stygian]

Early spring meant that Haszal was as dark as midnight, even though it was barely six in the afternoon. Leaf-strewn streets and looming, classical buildings, with only the light in the windows and a few streetlights for illumination gave the city the dreamlike and moody aura that it was famed for. But in the dark night there was something else as well, standing out against the dreamlike ambivalence of the environment, something hard and powerful.
   Stygian strolled a bit before them, hair rustling slightly in the wind and his hands in his pockets. The shadows seemed to almost slither over his nearly luminous white form. He kept his stride slow, seemingly unconcerned and detached. It only took about half a minute after they exited before the first streams of smoke and the pungent smell of tobacco drifted back from him.

[Gareeku]

As Aisha reappeared from changing, Gareeku's jaw dropped as he looked at her. In that dress she looked truely stunning, and it took a lot to throw the wolf off like that.
Wow... the wolf thought to himself as he looked at her. ...Beautiful...
Suddenly realising what he was doing, Gareeku snapped himself out of it, looking away slightly as he softly cleared his throat.

However, when Gareeku looked at her again, he could see the pantheress glancing at him while complimenting people on their appearence. Hearing Aisha's comment, the wolf's cheeks turned a shade of pink as he looked away again. It was probably somewhat amusing to see the usually grumpy-looking wolf act like this.

It was then, however, that Gareeku saw the signal that it was time to leave. Thinking it wise not to take his weapon with him, the wolf gave his outfit and sword to the member of staff behind the counter, slipping them some money while he did so. Knowing what this meant, the member of staff nodded and went to store away his items of clothing and sword. Realising that aisha was most likely in the same predicament, the wolf then slipped some more money the member of staff's way and asked them to offer to take care of her things while they were out.

[Tezkat]

Edge left the comforting warmth of the cafe and stepped out into the gloomy night and chill northern winds. He set off in the direction of the club. As the giant neon harem girls of the Red Sands loomed before them, he fell into step behind Stygian.

"I suppose you want to do the talking at the door?"

[Stygian]

As if he had noticed neither the mood of the surroundings, nor the presence of the jaguar, Stygian stood humming for a little while. The tune was almost cheerful, a bounding, part-syncopated jazz that would have gone with subtle riffs and strings.
   'Lovely... Never, ever change... Keep that breathless charm... Won't you please arrange it...?' he hummed, his smooth voice pleasurable and well-tuned. Then he looked at Edge. 'Certainly,' he answered. 'But don't mind if I listen to the others first while we get in.' He made a quick look over his shoulder back at Keaton.

[Sunblink]

A deceptively peaceful breeze swept and encircled Keaton as she ambled casually behind Stygian, muddy-blonde hair draped leisurely over her shoulders rustling and billowing slightly in the wind. Solitary ring-shaped piercing festooning her earlobe jostled slightly with each one of Keaton's swaggering steps, seeming to punctuate each movement of her body. Regardless of the current time, the town was draped in the darkness Keaton thrived in and derived her powers from, putting her in a strangely and uncharacteristically calm mood. Stygian seemed to be the same way, reminiscent of his own abilities, although judging by the tune he was humming he was much more actively content than she was.

Now was as good a time as any. Nodding affirmatively to herself upon Stygian's silent, insinuating glance, she gestured for the predatory bat to follow her into a nearby alleyway. Slanted, sinuous shadows cast over them by the protective surface of the buildings flanking them concealed them from prying eyes, fortunately, making their appearances quite safe. Once she was certain, Keaton decided to take action.

Already her body began to coalesce, as though something were rippling beneath her skin. Goldenrod-yellow started to drain from her body, sinking further and further down in flowing spirals of saffron as the atramentous darkness of her markings encroached further on her form. The yellow oozing away seemed to adopt a tangible, syrupy texture, easily becoming swallowed up by the monochromatic jaws of her markings until there wasn't a speck of light on left on her pelt.

"So," she stated, reaching up to massage her ears, "I take it you wanna hear what I have to say."

Ears shortened and shaped into a less broad, tapered structure and her tail shed its voluminous fur as it withdrew into a blunt length. Ginger spots started to materialize, at first in intermittent dapples coating her back in splashes of dusty brown, maroon, and amber, but then manifesting in other exotic, speckled patterns on her muscular body.

"I'll tell you everything once I've finished this."

When the transformation was complete there was hardly anything recognizable about Keaton's appearance--she had fully transmogrified into a pretty Doberman, curvaceous in form and not at all consistent with her former visage save for the white angle on her hip and the vague similarities in their hairstyles. The armlet which Xianxi had transformed into was still resting on her upper arm. Almost as an afterthought, Keaton fished into her pocket and removed her marble, then transformed the remainder of her current apparel into a classy dress slightly modeled after Mel's attire--she wasn't familiar with such formal design, so she had to experiment slightly with one of their clothing choices to create something relatively within the club's standards. Her clan marking was still exposed, but people could still probably mistake it for an exotic tattoo, if she was fortunate. Jewelry sprouted from her ears and wrists, taking the form of silvery bracelets and earrings.

Now she was finished. Keaton gave an experimental twirl, making her dress swirl and flourish, and then grinned as she looked at Styg. Facial features were still angular, like hers, but slightly more rigid, befitting of such an animal. Keaton slipped her marble inside of a pocket on her armlet, which seemed to open up and accept the object as it transformed into a shape that better accentuated her attire.

"Okay," Keaton said pleasantly, clasping gloved hands together. "Let's cut to the chase."

~Keaton the Black Jackal

[Aisha deCabre]

Just before Aisha had left the shop, she indeed also wondered what she was going to do with her weaponry...she had her things tucked beneath one arm as nearly everyone started out the door.  Watching Gareeku, though, she noticed that the wolf had left them with the store.  Why not, she shrugged.  It's as good a place as any.

When she was to do the same with her weapons, prepared to pay for the services, the clerk surprisingly told her that she was already taken care of as well, that the white wolf had paid for it.  The panthress turned back to watch him start to leave, curiously regarding him.  She couldn't get it from her mind either how Gareeku had looked at her when she came out with her dress.  Who'd have thought.  I guess the dress was a good idea, she thought, blushing slightly to herself as she had rushed to catch up with them.

The night turned out to be quite an early one, and once again the city took on a whole new appearance than from when it was daylight.  Lights peered down at the group from every angle, and surely they had caught a few wandering night eyes, dressed the way they were as they came upon the looming sight of the Red Sands.  There they paused nearby, noticing that some of the group were breaking off to briefly talk of their plans.  Keaton, Stygian, and Edge, specifically seemed to be speaking among themselves.

Aisha felt like waiting for the others before she'd enter it herself, her arms crossed as she looked up to regard the shimmering neon sign of the club.  "For a mission this looks quite like fun," she muttered.  Then, her eyes turned briefly to Gareeku again.  "I hope that vanishing for a while hasn't let you forget how to dance, amigo.  That is unless you never knew anyway," she joked, a playful smirk on her features.

[Stygian]

Unexpectedly, Stygian grinned at Keaton. For a second she almost thought that it was because of her transformation, and she would have been right. As cute as she was in her regular form, she had a talent for picking tasteful alternatives it seemed. Then he dispelled that notion.
   'If you are about to tell me that there is a jackal named Laertes after me, I already knew it. I also know about his friends Carey and Ace,' he said, smiling knowingly. 'They're not an issue. In fact they have been trailing me for a while. I was hoping that they would come so I could sic them on Ash in the confusion.' His smirk dimmed a little, and he looked down, taking an accentuating pause. 'Actually, I was rather depending on them. To keep things in check, if not under wraps.'

[Sunblink]

In-between narcissistically adjusting her slightly aerodynamic hairstyle and experimenting with the bangs' shape and style, the newly-transformed Keaton overheard Stygian laugh, then state almost every tidbit of information that she had accumulated without batting an eye. Involuntarily, Keaton jerked slightly, then stared in utter bewilderment at Stygian, hazel-hued eyes looking slightly owlish in her confusion. Realizing that she probably looked a lot like a dehydrated goldfish at this point, she regained her composure and set back to changing her hair into a shoulder-length mane of wavy curls the same hue as her black base fur color.

"You, uh..." Keaton didn't bother altering her voice or her dialect--they weren't within the club, after all, and not under any scrutiny. "You're familiar with these people, Styg?"

Keaton spun around to look at Catastrophe, which was leaning against the brick wall of the nearest building. She made a sweeping gesture with a flick of her wrist, and the wall itself seemed to ripple, almost as though the darkness coating it was just a layer of syrupy substance. Diving inward to form a strangely hollow indentation reminiscent of a gaping maw, the shadows seemed to draw Catastrophe inside of it, then with another flamboyant movement of her hand it had sealed off again, restoring everything to its formerly innocuous appearance. Keaton dusted her hands off and looked back to Stygian. Catastrophe would be safe and sound for now, and she could draw it back out of the little pocket of darkness she had stored it in whenever she needed it.

~Keaton the Black Jackal

[Stygian]

'Somewhat,' was the bat's direct response. 'At least Ace is very well known to me. And I am intimately familiar with the order to which Laertes adheres. Carey is just a pirate and a raider, and little more.' The bat's unflinching declaration of things still left one thing out though. 'I assume that they noticed me, somehow? That was intentional. We don't have to worry much about them. They're just adventurers,' he said, and smiled wickedly at Keaton again, a glinting fang just visible and making the winning charm into something more predatory upon examination. His eyes followed her mace as it flowed out of sight, taking in the details of its hiding method and place. Not that he was unfamiliar with storing things in that manner, but because he had always wondered why someone like Keaton would bother with such a weapon.
   A small, smiling sigh, and then the bat closed on Keaton, standing behind her back, leaning down and speaking in a lower tone and voice. 'Don't worry. It was for confirmation. I also wanted you to get a feel for things. And more importantly, I wanted to make sure nothing had changed.' He patted her on the shoulder. It was strange that the girl should enjoy praise from someone as he, rather than fear him, but he had seen it before. 'You've done a good job. Now, shall we get going?'
   Not waiting for a response, Stygian turned and walked back out of the alley, giving the others a quick look before heading up the street toward the club.

[Sunblink]

As Stygian further elaborated on his explanation, Keaton shuffled where she stood and clinically inspected her appearance, spontaneously adjusting anything which inched even a centimeter outside of her perfectionist standards. It had been quite some time since she modified her physical appearance outside of simply concealing her wings and head-wings, so she was afraid that she had grown rather rusty. That was the price one had to pay for becoming confident, she supposed.

Keaton inclined her head towards Stygian, feeling intimidation spike up her spine. Although she was familiar with the bat and his mannerisms, he still had an air of unpredictability and could easily unnerve the normally unflappable jackal. Once his hand had rested on her shoulder she felt herself involuntarily ease up, and she couldn't help but smirk slightly at her accomplishment prior.

"Alright," she said casually, giving her disguise one final appraisal. Finally satisfied, she followed Stygian close behind, the remnants of her combat boots disintegrating and warping into high heels as she ambled after him.

Into the club they went.

~Keaton the Black Jackal

[Cogidubnus]

 Making sure to keep his footfalls soft, Cog walked just a little distance behind the Jackal and the Bat, both of the wolf's ears perked. Though neither of them could see it, his expression darkened as they continued to talk, eventually settling into a simple, neutral expression. His thumb tapped the hilt of his sword absently.

Keaton's transformation drew his gaze, no matter how much Cog tried to keep his eye out for the spider woman. The Cubi's metamorphosis was both stomach-turning and morbidly fascinating at the same time. She eventually settled on her appearance, clacking away with high-heeled shoes as she followed the bat.
Cog hung back for a moment, thinking, and then started jogging, catching up with the two for a moment.

Both of them already knew about Laertes. He supposed it wouldn't matter so much.

Coming up beside Stygian, Cog tapped the bat's heel with the end of his cane and turned his head. He regarded the bat silently for a moment, and then coughed and spoke, his voice low and serious.
  "Are you aware a spider-woman is trying to kill you?" he said, his eyes watching the bat carefully.

[Stygian]

The bat blinked, and nearly missed a beat in his step. The hesitation was minute, but it was there, and Cog perceived it.
   'A spider, you say?' he said, his tone suddenly devoid of that leering note and much more cautious. They were nearing the club, but he was walking at a calm pace. 'You don't see many of those. In fact, you don't see them at all, really.' He considered for a moment, wondering how he might lead the wolf on. Then he looked directly at him, his face somewhat relaxed but his black eyes hard as stone.
   'And? What did she say?' he said.

[Cogidubnus]

 Cog looked away for a moment, taking another deep breath. "She didn't say anything. She did write quite a bit, however." The wolf said, looking over his shades at the crowd. "But, she did want me to convince the others to not go to the club. As something terrible was going to happen." he said, looking again at the bat. "She's also working with Laertes. But you seem to know him."

Cog tilted his head for a moment, looking in the distance at the lights of the Red Sands. "She's going to try to kill you. Possibly all of us. And if she isn't as fast as I am, she has enough arms to make up for it." Cog's cane clacked on the concrete, and he looked at Stygian out of the corner of his eye.
"I thought you might like to know. Or, perhaps, you would know why the hell she -didn't- kill me, and told me all of this." Cog said, his face carefully neutral.

[Stygian]

At Cog's words, Stygian silenced for a while, turning his gaze forward and down again. Right before they came up to the entrance to the club he stopped, and looked back at the other members of the group, a bit behind them.
   'I am glad you chose to tell me. Thank you,' he said, and turned his eyes to Cog. 'I am not sure whether if you know precisely what is going on, but yes. I know Laertes. I know her as well.' He stopped and bit his lower lip gently. 'If they are working together, however... She didn't kill you just because you might help her, I think.'
   Again, the bat turned his head, this time to gaze up at the tall entry of the Red Sands at the top of the front stairs. He seemed to hesitate for a moment.
   'My... I think this changes things. Why she would want to kill me, I do not precisely know. But I have my hunches. It doesn't alter anything right now though.' He seemed to pause, almost as if considering his own words for a second. Then he took a step, and walked slowly up toward the entrance.
   The line and crowd gathered outside the Red Sands was long and large, all sorts of fashionably dressed individuals gathering before one of the town's most popular clubs. Not content with simply waiting, most were standing smoking, talking and doing various little things like chatting in cellphones or even the odd magical trick for amusement. There was no sign of anyone being let in, but as Stygian approached the lone bouncer, a hard-lined and muscular fellow in an immaculate black suit and with a lone golden earring, the tiger looked down the low stairs at him and moved one post of the rope barrier bordering off the line to the side.
   'Mister Donovan,' the big feline said, his voice coarse but businesslike. 'We have been expecting you.' Stygian in turn only nodded and proceeded up the steps and in, into the low, shifting light and the music.

[Gareeku]

Listening to Aisha's comments as he walked, Gareeku smirked slightly.
"I've never been one for dancing." the wolf replied gruffly, glanced towards the pantheress for a moment. "But that doesn't mean I don't dance."

It would only be a few minutes later before the group arrived outside of the club. However, it would soon become apparent that apart from Stygian, none of them were allowed inside.
"Great. So I spent that money on this suit for nothing." the wolf muttered as he watched Stygian head inside.

[Mel Dragonkitty]

No sooner  had the bat disappeared than the tattoo of  high heeled shoes on pavement sounded. The sound of annoyed privilege carrying a little silver fox up to the door. The vixen had a body language that said she mostly got what she wanted. "I see that you have begun letting people in."

Mel knew what a typical bouncer looked for when choosing clientele. First was ability to spend a ton of money, which was why she had insisted on real dresses rather than illusions. Even with an ability to detect magic he would see that the dress and jewelry were real and high end. Second was decorative value, so her fox disguise was much better looking than her accustomed nondescript and forgettable illusions. Third was how much of a magical tantrum were you risking by turning someone away. One didn't want unhappy fae or angels blowing holes in the front of your business or turning your customers into trout. She let a little bit of magic leak out, just enough to show a hint of frustration. She just hoped that the feline was a typical bouncer and that she had struck the right balance of looks, money, and magic.

[Stygian]

Contrary to Gareeku's words and expectations, the large feline still stood to the side, watching Cog and then down the street with a sort of muted expectancy, gazing over the street with his yellow eyes, searching for something. Then he looked back to Cog again, raising his brow just a bit. 'You are with him, I presume?' he asked.
   No sooner had he asked than Mel stepped up to face him. A few of the waiting patrons shot them confused and angry glares, others just passed a jaded look over them, knowing that some guests were always favored no matter what they paid for in drinks and service. The tiger shrugged off their looks, completely unconcerned. Mel's apparition seemed an event on a different continent.
   While question didn't so much as shift the guard's face, the vixen's mannerisms and slight magical aura at least made his left eyebrow climb a hair. 'Mister Donovan and company. I assume you file under the latter, miss?' he said carefully. 'I was told to expect five.'

[Sunblink]

Edging her way leisurely to her companions, Keaton slid into place smoothly beside a slightly irked Gareeku, looking quite appropriately smug. She didn't see a reason not to be--her disguise was perfect, she had accomplished something useful, and--well, that tangent deteriorated out of her thoughts soon enough, especially when she noticed how jerkily matters were proceeding. Stygian had no trouble entering the club, but there apparently needed to be some form of verification before the rest of them could enter. She wasn't sure, she hadn't heard the conversation. All that mattered was that they could enter, they should've entered, and now there was some sort of barricade in the way. Hilarious how the agitation rising off of some of those waiting in line was almost the soundtrack to her impatience.

Sighing in a rather unladylike, irritated manner unbefitting of her elegant subterfuge, Keaton leaned off to the side, quirking her newly-curvaceous hips (fortunately, the one bearing her clan marking was thrust out of sight) and eyes combing over her fingernails. As she waited, partially listening into the exchange between the vixen (she assumed that was Mel, attributing her illusionist skills and how casually she interacted among them), she  formulated a false identity for her to use in case someone queried her on her name.

~Keaton the Black Jackal

[Tezkat]

"The plot thickens. Does anyone around here not want you dead?"

Edge leaned against the corner of the alley entrance with his arms crossed, waiting patiently while Keaton and Stygian finished their little talk. He wore a faint smirk that just barely revealed one of his fangs. Brightly painted grafitti above him proclaimed: Come Kill Stygian (Line Starts Here). It faded and morphed back into a more mundane tag as the pair exited the alley.

The smartly dressed young jaguar strolled up to the club entrance after Stygian, his pace leisurely and his hands clasped comfortably behind his back. He nodded to the bouncer, briefly wondering if the tiger remembered him from last night or expected to see him alive again. And then he stepped into the lion's den.

[Stygian]

Quite unceremoniously, and somewhat embarrassingly, Stygian reappeared at the top of the stairs, hands tucked in his pockets and suddenly looking a bit flustered. He gave the trio at the bottom of the stairs a sharp look, and then raised his eyes to look at Gareeku and Aisha further down the street, bowing slightly forward and making a mocking gesture that practically spat out the words 'Shall we go then?'. He held in place, waiting for the others to catch the drift. Meanwhile, the bouncer took one look at Edge and then ignored him, simply letting him pass by. Most likely he did remember the man, but had been instructed just to admit him and nothing else.

[Sunblink]

Keaton noticed Stygian's appearance at the top of the stairs, and wasted no time in analyzing the look on his face. Its meaning was clear enough. Sighing and tucking a ringlet of curled hair behind her tapered ear, Keaton walked abruptly into the club upon Stygian's instructions, practicing making every one of her steps as exaggerated and graceful as possible just to flaunt some unseen opulence, and possibly piss off a few impatient people waiting in the culminating line behind them. There was no real reason behind this other than to toy with their emotions, and possibly harvest some smoldering irritation blistering off of their forms.

Either way, she didn't get the opportunity to savor it. She was already past the bouncer and inside the club, hiding a smirk.

~Keaton the Black Jackal

[Cogidubnus]

 Cog nodded absently at the bat's words. They had reached their destination - perhaps not the best time to be discussing such sensitive things.
Although, if what Stygian had been saying was true, it wouldn't matter much what the people in the club heard. They were about to find out.

Taking a moment to let the bat pass though, the wolf stepped aside for just a moment to let the bouncer speak, nodding his head at the tiger and taking a hesitant step forward. He didn't really frequent clubs very much, and the wolf felt a bit recitent.
"Yes." he responded, meeting the tiger's yellow eyes with his own. He tapped the sword he was carrying in his left hand on the ground. "I assume someone can take care of this for me, while I'm in there?" he said, walking past the bouncer.

He supposed he would be stopped if he was supposed to give it to him. He entered the club slowly, looking for some sort of check in, and brushing past a returning Stygian as he walked in.

[Aisha deCabre]

As she stood next to Gareeku, hearing his statement about dancing, Aisha couldn't help but chuckle.  After all, things seemed to be looking rather smooth, maybe...

Then she glimpsed the scene in front of the club and nearly groaned with frustration.  There was quite the line of people awaiting entry, and the bouncer at the door looked rather like he wasn't going to let just anyone in anytime soon.  For a moment she had the same idea as Gareeku, wondering how in the world they were to get in, or why they were even there.  I'm not sitting out in a dress all night if this doesn't work...

But by the time the rest of the group had caught up, Stygian was on the stairs again, giving the not-so-subtle signal that it was time to head inside...much to the chagrin of the people in line, which made her snicker just slightly.  As the others started, so too did she, glancing to the white wolf in the process.  "Guess it wouldn't be a waste," she smiled, and turned back forward.  Ignoring a few curses from the line their way, she entered the atmosphere made nearly completely of light, music, and life.

[Stygian]

When Cog entered the foyer, a comparatively sparse though decorated room with counters that lead to wardrobes and facilities on each side, he was approached by a woman dressed in a robe-like vestment, flowing and silky red and cream white, a gazelle whose like had to be hard to find.
   'May I take your coat, mister?' she asked in a voice even smoother than the clothes that while full-length only accentuated her slender, shapely form. The quick glance she gave his sword told him just what else was included in the meaning of 'coat'. Stygian walked silently past up to one of the counters, muttering something and taking his guns out, laying them down heavily on the polished stone top. After a raised-eyebrow look from the serval girl behind the counter, he pulled out a knife that looked much too large to be hidden anywhere, smiling as if he had just forgotten it. While the feline rolled her eyes and took Stygian's things, the bat turned and placed his hand on Cog's shoulder to divert the wolf's attention from the attender's more outstanding features. Nodding against the entry to the club hall, he then turned and walked down the stairs, while a bare-topped golden jackal not much less built than the bouncer approached Keaton with a warm smile.
   The club which the party entered into was so different from what Mel had lain eyes on before that for a moment it was easy to doubt whether if it had been the same room. But there was no question that it was the Red Sands at its fullest. Hundreds of guests crowded the terraced hall, sitting at tables or in booths along the walls or higher up, on the higher floors. Many were dancing down on the main floor, and some even on the surfaces beneath the artificial waterfalls covered with a thin skin of running water, thin clothes clinging to fur and droplets of water spraying about. Exotic scents both fresh and hot were thick in the air; water and mist, alcohol and perfume, spice and a pervading warm scent like sun-baked stone and sand. The music being played by the live band on its sidestage, actually more of an orchestra, thumped and reverberated throughout the fire- and lamp-lit locale, a sort of modernized rock version of typical Egyptian thematic music with a few pop and dance influences, and even a few complex harmonies thrown in, a wailing guitar replacing the flute as the leading instrument and strings in the background. Everywhere barely clad attenders moved with practiced fluidity and grace among the crowd, each one apparently hand-picked not only for their beauty but also for being of some desert or savanna-dwelling animal species. Already when entering the scene was so powerful that it threatened to overwhelm the senses and mind.
   From his vantage point near the top of the stairs, Stygian looked down at the throng and smiled jadedly, taking off his black-lined jacket and throwing it over his shoulder. Not ten seconds had passed before a comely servant, a leopardess, appeared by his side with a tray of clear-hued drinks. 'Mister Donovan', the voluptuous feline said, making a little bow. 'With compliments.' Stygian snatched a drink from the tray and then strolled slowly down the stairs, eying the place deceptively calmly.

[Tezkat]

Edge casually removed an object from under his suit jacket and set it down on the counter of the "coat" check. The lacquered black wooden scabbard held a blade nearly long enough to be considered a short sword, its hilt bound in intricate patterns of black and gold silk. He winked at the girl and stuffed a large bill into her tip jar before making his way into the club proper. He wore a bright smile as he followed Stygian down the stairs into the throng, his tail swishing in time to the beat of the music.

[Cogidubnus]

 Only twitching slightly when Stygian touched his shoulder, Cog diverted his attention away from the gazelle and to the bat, nodding in affirmation to the bat's subtle gesture. Turning his attention back away from the Stygian, Cog tipped his hat to the gazelle woman, making a slight bow as he did so.

"I fear my coat is too coarse to be handled by hands so lovely." the wolf said lightly. "But this," he said, indicating his sword with his head, "Grows a bit heavy. You wouldn't mind if I left it here, I suppose?" Cog grinned at the woman, and turned to approach the counter.

He paused for just a moment in front of the counter, leaning his cane against the wall as he used both hands to tie the string attached to the sheath of his blade into a knot, wrapping the cord around the black-lacquered scabbard. He tugged on it, tightening it, and set the blade on the counter horizontally.

The serval girl returned from sequestering Stygian's accouterments, and the wolf paused a moment to regard her. He let his shades slide down his nose just a bit, his eyes narrowed.
"I haven't been apart from that sword for longer than you've been alive." he said softly, meeting her eyes. "Should anything happen to it..." he said, leaving the rest of his sentence unspoken as he glared. He took a single deep breath, and with a final glance at the blade he grabbed his cane and turned, walking off towards the entrance to the club proper.

Despite the deep unease that was starting to gnaw at the back of his mind, Cog found himself stunned by the vista that greeted him inside the club. He stood stock still for a moment, absorbing the sights and the sounds of the place, the smells and the music seeping like a fog into his mind. You could get lost in a place like this, he thought.
The wolf shook his head slowly, turning to find a seat or a table near the entrance to the club. He needed to watch the door.

Watching might be all he could do. The music, the smells...the wolf was fairly overwhelmed. He continued to search for a seat, his cane clacking on the floor.

[Sunblink]

...Keaton the Black Jackal:
The pounding, the pulsing, the beating, the gyrating, the music, the lights, the electricity; all of it was alive, all of it was wild and in her face and absolutely wonderful. Initially Keaton had envisioned the interior of the Red Sands to be no more than an ostentatious, polished pretense of a raver's ardent fantasies, but once she stepped foot inside of the club and gazed with utmost surprise upon the lurid celebration overflowing the hall all her suspicions simply disappeared, floating away to evanesce in the swarm of heat and steam permeating the air. Simply said, the Red Saids surpassed Keaton's expectations tenfold.

I love this place.

Unconsciously, Keaton felt a grin more characteristic of her normal, base form tug at the edge of her lips. Sooner or later she had to return to reality, after all, she still had an elegant composure to maintain. At heart many Cubi were impersonators and actors, and Keaton was no exception to this stereotypical legacy of masquerades, even when her shapeshifting abilities were slightly neglected. Of course, as thorough as her transformation was there was nothing she could do about her prosthetic eye, which remained abnormally blank in comparison to her opposite, vivid hazel iris. In order to allow her to see in color she had to keep her glasses on, although she had given the chain and frame a sleek silver sheen in order to match the rest of her jewelry.

A golden blur hovering at the edge of her peripheral vision caught Keaton's attention as it floated reluctantly down from nirvana. The jackal-turned-Doberman turned around towards the approaching figure, coming face-to-face with the bare-chested individual and his elusively sweet smile. On other occasions Keaton would've laughed aloud at the irony behind the fact that she, a jackal, who was disguised as another canine, was being confronted with another, but fortunately she curbed this instinct.

Probably one with flirtatious intentions. Why else would someone be coming over to her? Ah well. Seeing she couldn't personally rob everyone who looked at her chest's soul, especially not in a public area occupied by hundreds, and which was gradually being filled, she forced a smile which looked, for the most part, surprisingly genuine.

---

...Deirdre Donnachaidh:

Under warm orange lights produced by flickering flames and gyrating, hypnotic music flowing seamlessly into the intoxicating air, another one was closely admiring the environment and ambiance of the club from the comfort of their table. Sulphur-hued eyes partially blinded with membranous, immature cataracts struggled to fully absorb all the lights and sounds palpitating in the electrified atmosphere as they flickered occasionally up from the drink that their owner was gradually nursing. Since the declaration of her "lumpy little problem," as the Gryphon had affectionately christened her virulent glioblastoma multiforme, the doctor had advised her not to guzzle any alcoholic beverages. So far her condition was asymptomatic, but it was best to be safe. Thus, the Gryphon was limited to something relatively soothing and which wouldn't result in a drunken daze.

The Gryphon was garbed in traditional apparel--or as traditional as she preferred. Black formal suit and tie--fortunately with an opening in the back to allow her feathery wings to flex freely--with a white button-down shirt and black pants encompassing long legs which were folded informally over one another beneath the table. Gender was kept as ambiguous as always--hell, numerous people within the club had addressed her as sir--and her manner of preserving such masculinity was notably thorough, although to begin with her figure was androgynous; lanky, gangly, and lacking any curves.

Folding her arms behind her head, the Gryphon leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes contentedly, something which was probably impossible considering the liveliness of the club and the volume of the music. Atmosphere exuded adrenaline. Packed as it was, she was almost distantly reminded of another, grotesque case involving a nightclub which was caught ablaze due to arson, but for once it didn't touch any overprotective, paranoid Adventuring instincts. She wasn't here to defend. She was here to enjoy herself.

Cheers, Deirdre.

~Keaton the Black Jackal

[Boog]

A dead man watched the party enter the Red Sands...
He was in an alleyway across the street, that damn otter from before keeping a close eye on him. He'd passed of that vial of something to Laertes as it had started to react, who went off with Ace somewhere. On the plus side, they left Marya back at the apartment. Richard thought. Admittedly, they hinted (not threatened. That was what really got to him. This Laertes guy wasn't honest enough to threaten someone outright) that any attempt at contacting the authorities could end badly for all those concerned. So he sure as hell couldn't expect a rescue. Then again, my little chaperone's bored out of his mind... The undead glanced again at the otter, who kept looking from his charge to the club and back. Richard gave a rattling, mocking laugh.
"Aw, wossa matter? Wanted to go play secret agent in the club with the other two?" There were probably ancient dragons who wished they could sneer that contemptuously, "Pissed that you're sitting here instead of going after the glorified gothic Rorschach blot you people are chasing?"

[Stygian]

It wasn't quite enough to disappoint her, but certainly enough to make her blink when the jackal stopped a step from Keaton and made a polite little bow. 'Anything you wish to be relieved of?' he said. She thought she could feel amusement from his direction, probably a reaction that he experienced at all those newcomers overtaken by the club's, intermingled with the excitement and the alertness.
   Inside the club, Stygian strolled around, taking a long, appraising and appreciative look at the place. The exquisite if excessive taste and theme was definitely Ashtareth, though the sheer overwhelming aura of the place was something much closer to what Azel or Samuel would go for. Or I, he thought. The place is even getting to me.
   Stygian let his eyes wander across the stage, studying the scene with something else than just his eyes, as far as he could. The cacophony in the place was almost total. But as garish and lurid as the place seemed, numbing senses in the way that only a full-blown rave like this or a very good concert could, he could neither see nor feel anything odd or suspicious about the place save a certain dim energy to the waiters' and waitresses' and attendants' auras, easily attributed to protective enchantments they must have been wearing. Places like the Red Sands were tight with security like that.
   The bat wove through the crowd on the second terrace from what he could sense at his side. But a sudden bump against something caught him off guard and he stopped, head swiveling down and his black eyes searching. Beside him, a ferret woman had been knocked to the side and almost into the loincloth-clad young Adonis carrying a platter of grapes and chocolate behind her, spilling a bit of her drink in the process. He had missed her, probably because of her shortness.
   'I'm sorry, miss,' Stygian said, pinching the folded black silk handkerchief tucked into the breast pocked of his jacket and carefully moving over to her. 'Dreadfully sorry.' His words were a bit hard to hear in the commotion, but the apologetic smile on his face spoke for him. Just for a moment he turned his head around, looking for the others, before he hunched down a bit to look at the woman.

- -

Snorting, Carey crossed his arms over his chest and gave the baboon a derisive look, feeling his teeth with his tongue. 'No, I'm pissed that I get stuck babysitting a stiff while those two go off to do "grown-up stuff". What's it mean to you?' he said, and gave Richard another look. 'If you're thinking I'm about to let you up you're fooling yourself. And I don't know shit about any Rorschach. So unless you have something useful for me, can you please keep what's left of that mouth of yours closed so I don't have to hear it?'