As many stories do, this one started in a pub.
Few of those bars vibrated to the brutal beat of the music, however.
Sanctuary was perhaps more accurately described as a club, but the bar itself was long and solid, a heavy oaken construction stained dark by the years and countless coats of varnish. The man behind, tall with a shaved head and a Northern English accent that thickened when amused, annoyed, frustrated, sad or on a day with Y in it, served drinks to the club goers with skill and occasional disdain for American beer.
Midwinters Eve was an impressive event, and although just days before the more traditional celebrations it was quite the event. Perhaps people wanted to blow off steam before they spent the end of the year in a more traditional setting. Or maybe people simply couldn't avoid a good party. And Valda Simmons threw a hell of a party.
Many wore fancy dress, dressed in the whites and blues and silvers of winter, or dressed as fairies and spirits. Others were simply dressed to party and dance, although anyone with sense chose something warm on the shortest night of the year.
Of course, that was just the party for normal folks...
The second floor of Sanctuary was normally just as packed as the bottom, but today anyone without one of the special invitations was...discouraged from seeing the entrances, or even noticing the second party up above. Even with it, it was an act of will to notice the stairs wells leading up.
Upstairs was...different. Glowing lights danced among the crowd, cool the touch. A pretty girl danced, the gossamer wings of her costume remarkably lifelike and shedding motes of light. You could swear the man acting as a bouncer had a greenish tint to his skin. And the trio at the bar were awfully small...
But the bar was free and the table laid out with food, the music low and easy to dance to. The general gist of the conversation said Valda herself would be out shortly, and everyone was to mingle and have fun.
Nurai arrived on a dark red motorcycle with a small empty sidecar. She had ridden a long way, longer with trails, pit stops, occasional side trips cause by a less than a great sense of direction and an abundant overeager curiosity. Parking where she thought she'd be able to see it, and it's locked bags, from the windows of the Sanctuary Bar. She locked away her helmet away before pulling the letter from her pocket.
Nurai checked the invitation once more. Likely closer to the hundredth time in the last few weeks she'd rechecked all the details. Just a quick break, a chance at something new, an opportunity to catch up...Nurai blew out her nervous-excited energy as it threatened to bubble over inside her.
Walking in, Nurai looked around for a familiar face. It took her a few minutes to find and then a few more to brave the stairs. Nurai moved slowly over to the table with food, though her eyes behind a pair of bright white framed sunglasses drawn more to the pretty dancer than the food. Swaying gently the beat, Nurai Ayaulmkyzy considered her options...
Her hair flowing in the chilly breeze, unbothered by the wintry air flowing into her jacket, Aurora gets to the pub while talking into the phone. "No. No, Mom, I know. I know. Yes, I- yes, Mom. Mom, please, I can look after myself. No. Alright, love you too. Yes, I'll call you if I'm late. Bye. Bye, Mom."
With a sigh she hangs up, walking into Sanctuary with an intrigued look on her face. She had been to the place a couple of times, but never for this big a shindig. Climbing the stairs to the second floor, ditching the jacket for a blue dress in the shade of her eyes, she takes in the unusual sights. Just like Mom said. This Simmons lady is tied to the folk tales, the Other. Are those faeries?
She listens to the music for a moment, taking in the rythm, then heads to the barman, smiling gracefully. "So, the laws of this place say I'm too young for a drink, but I believe that I can't handle myself, and I have a feeling that there won't be cops checking this place out, not tonight. You wouldn't happen to have mead, would you?"
Parties and celebrations were... interesting, for Miyu. She saw a lot of things that other people didn't, and there was something just a little bit eerie about the way she navigated the crowds, never quite bumping in to somebody no matter how thick things got. It was almost fey, really - but she was quite human. Perhaps more to the point, she suspected that whoever had sent the invitations was at least attempting to be on people's good sides, since she specialized in the kind of exorcisms that could send unnatural creatures right back to where they came from.
Of course, any sort of overt threat would have been quite rude - and it wasn't like she was some stuck-up huntress, after all. As she'd made clear on a couple of occasions, she was quite content to leave unnatural things alone as long as they weren't causing any trouble. She tried to be a positive person, after all, and she had come to have fun.
...All right, maybe she was avoiding the food and drink, and maybe she did have her ofuda holder strapped on (if mostly hidden), but hey. That was actually quite normal for her, and for now, she was content to wait for the host to arrive and see who else had shown up.
Jennifer stood at the end of the bar, hunched over her drink. Mid-shelf bourbon. Money is always a concern, but if the liquors's too smooth, it doesn't taste good. She's already thought of a barbed retort to anyone who comments on her choice of drink.
Syar'ammag is quiet tonight. She's assuming that's because he approves of where she is, but she can never really be sure. Sometimes he's more noisy than others, but he rarely talks to her directly, for which she's thankful.
She's encountered Valda once before for work. Valda seemed more amused than impressed with her, but the job was still profitable for both of them. Valda knew what sort of currency Jennifer was really interested in, so the erstwhile librarian assumed that this invitation would lead to something worth coming out here for.
No idea what these other people were her for.
The man behind the bar was scruffy and bore a polite but stern demeanor that suggested that he was there to serve the drinks and some idle chit chat but little else.
Dressed in a simple blue polo shirt and jeans the bartender really didn't seem too out of place from any normal bar save the drinks on the wall behind him had names in exotic languages and strange bottle tops in the shapes of dragons, skulls, or other more esoteric shapes. Some of those bottle swirled with odd colors and as he opened a few to make a quick mixed drink for a pale gentlemen in an outfit somewhere between robes and a pile of bed sheets the air around them filled with the scents of summer flowers and the sweaty desperation of lovers in a hurry.
Passing the drink off to the man who half walked, half floated off he quietly refilled the cheap bourbon glass at the end of the bar without a word. That was one to keep an eye on, angry drunks among people were bad enough when the person in question didn't suddenly explode into fire, monsters, or literal demons.
Truth be told it had been at least a month since he felt completely out of touch with reality. Now, surrounded as he was by a large number of people he was fairly certain could count their birthdays to a time before the founding of the town he could only keep up appearances and thank Valda later for the simple enchantment she had added to the bar to fill in the gaps in his knowledge regarding mixing drinks for folks who like their moonshine fermented in the stomachs of dragons.
At the very least he had enough experience with human bartending to not get caught up in the silly games and bets of the creatures here. Humans were just out to get laid or take your money. Some of the people here were looking for a new pet at best or food at worst. Valda had rules against that kind of thing in her bar, but it sure as s!@* didn't stop some from trying.
Seeing a teenage girl walk up to the bar and put on her cutest "I'm not really an underaged drinker" face almost made him start laughing hysterically.
Instead he made a show of cleaning the bar and said matter of factly. "Yes, we carry mead."
Pulling up in his late-model BMW M235, Solomon was annoyed to have to choose between a well-lit parking space between obnoxiously-oversized vehicles, or something in the shadows where he was less likely to come away with dents in his doors. He pondered for a moment, idling in the lot, silently judging whoever felt the need to take an SUV to a party. Eventually he squeezed his coupe into the lit space and carefully exited, mouthing a quick prayer to his Geico agent.
Once inside, the party seemed... typical. A couple of girls had all but blown the flimsy cover their fake IDs provided, a man with just more than a five o'clock shadow sat brooding at the bar over his untimely divorce, and the bartender was mentally cursing the most annoying patrons while his smile belied his inner world.
It made Solomon want to turn around and leave.
Yet here was a staircase. It seemed as if it didn't want to be found, the way it pushed back at his mind to simply turn away and ignore it. Solomon focused his thoughts towards the top and discovered far more interesting, and certainly atypical, minds above. He ascended, his cane tapping on each step rhythmically, announcing his inevitable approach. When he saw the bouncer, he wasn't sure if he should be more concerned about the cane in his hand or the small pistol on his back. Yet this particular man, or creature rather, seemed primarily interested in the more overt task: warding off the uninvited. As Solomon passed, he smirked at the bouncer's passive eagerness to return home and watch the last episode of My Little Pony on his DVR.
Solomon drifted to the back corner and observed, casually estimating the other minds in the room. He dared not probe too deeply for fear of being noticed, but the general emotions and unspoken language hung on each figure like jewelry, adorning their already garish outfits and costumes. He was quite certain this wasn't his first choice of social circles, but they were certainly exotic enough to keep his interest. Most importantly, however, Valda had apparently had dealings with his father, the long-vanished Mr Isaac Solomon. Thus Solomon awaited the arrival of the hostess with uncertainty and anticipation swirling in his mind.
Nurai people watched for several minutes before finally decided the next best option was a drink. Bit risky in a place like this by herself, especially if Nurai's chose her usual tactic of just picking whatever looked most interesting. Approaching the bar, she spent a few minutes looking over the back wall of beverages before deciding a well-known cider would probably be her best bet no matter how interesting other things looked. She'd have to ask Valda for recommendations later.
She nods and waits for the bartender with the warm smile before, pointing a bottle after a moment, "That raspberry and lime cider, please. Unless you have something better to recommend... I like my drinks like I like my people: sweet, fruity, and with nothing concerning in them that I can't leave on the same bike I rode in on...". Nurai chuckles to herself, leaning one arm against the bar as she fished her wallet out of her bag. Her bright white framed sunglasses slip slightly, showing the gentle green glow in the whites of her eyes.
Jennifer glances over her shoulder at the newcomers, does a doubletake when she sees Doctor Solomon, and abruptly pushes herself away from the bar. She walks towards the older man to meet him in the middle of the room.
"Dr. Solomon? Dr. Daniel Solomon?" Jennifer's smile is more businesslike than warmhearted. "This is an unexpected surprise. I've read all your work. Everything published, anyway. And... and much of your father's work, also. I'm a researcher and it's fascinating reading. Are you working on anything else, currently?"
Miyu's ears twitched slightly as she heard somebody mention a 'doctor', and more so when she heard the word 'researcher'. Her own efforts at higher education were less glamorous than she would've liked - she was mostly taking courses online in order to continue with her job, but she did like learning things. Linguistics and folklore were favored topics, but she'd dived into a little bit of almost everything at one point or another. It helped to pass the time between jobs, after all. She wasn't going to just interrupt someone's conversation or specifically eavesdrop - that would have been horribly rude - but she did wander in that direction to see if they might be fun to talk to.
Solomon looks blankly at the woman as she approaches, cocking his head a bit to one side. Presently a half-smile crosses his face as he extends his hand in greeting. "Yes, the very same." he grasps the woman's hand gently but firmly, placing his other hand over it and continuing, "And who might you be?" The question was a bit redundant, as he could already hear her answer: Jennifer.
"My father certainly told a good story." Solomon says, glancing about the party to see who might be listening. "Tell me, do you refer to my papers on meditative neurogenesis, or my recently published travel logs? Which, by the way, are also available on my blog if you're interested." He assumed she meant his travel writings, but hardly cared to miss an opportunity to flaunt his credentials. He adjusts his glasses and smirks confidently.
Eyes shining bright, Aurora grins. "A glass of dry mead then, chilled, and thank you!" Let's see how it compares to Mom's home brew.
As the dark-skinned woman asks for a cider, she instinctively recalls ancient myths. "Cider, apple wine. Both the Hesperides' apples in Greece and Idunn's in Norrland granted immortality, while those in Eden granted knowledge of good and evil. It might be light, fizzy, sweet and fruity, but you've chosen a drink rich in history and symbolism."
Solomon looks blankly at the woman as she approaches, cocking his head a bit to one side. Presently a half-smile crosses his face as he extends his hand in greeting. "Yes, the very same." he grasps the woman's hand gently but firmly, placing his other hand over it and continuing, "And who might you be?" The question was a bit redundant, as he could already hear her answer: Jennifer.
"Call me Jennifer," she replies before casually taking her hand back.
"My father certainly told a good story." Solomon says, glancing about the party to see who might be listening. "Tell me, do you refer to my papers on meditative neurogenesis, or my recently published travel logs? Which, by the way, are also available on my blog if you're interested." He assumed she meant his travel writings, but hardly cared to miss an opportunity to flaunt his credentials. He adjusts his glasses and smirks confidently.
"I've read them all, actually. Even your father's children's books. I'll check out your blog, but my reading list is so long, already. You know how it is. Do you have much in the way of journals you haven't published?"
"No." The bar man responds in the same matter of fact tone to the blonde girl.
Without another word he deftly got a bottle of the requested cider and poured it into a chilled glass before serving it up. Eyeing the wallet he adds. "Can I see your ID real fast please maam? Thank you."
At the barman's mockery, wind howls in Aurora's inner ear, but she's adept at controlling her innate fury. With a frown and half a pout, she speaks in a chiller tone. "Fine. Non-alcoholic root beer float, then. Far less symbolic drink."
"Do you have much in the way of journals you haven't published?"
Solomon raises his eyebrows as Jennifer stumbles into a pronounced understatement. He clears his throat. "Well, yes actually. I've recorded a substantial collection of notes, but compiling them into a meaningful form is an arduous task." As he speaks, his hand absentmindedly drifts to his coat pocket, whereupon is the faint outline of a folded leather notebook tucked neatly within. He snaps back to the present and returns a smile to his face as he maintains the conversation.
"Have you done any work in the field, or do you just learn from the experiences of others?" He asks almost politely, quickly following the query with another, "What did you say you do, again?"
Nurai finishes pulling her wallet out, the banged up surface covered in overlapping patches, as glancing over to the... very young looking pale girl talking at her before pushing her sunglasses back up her nose and over her eyes and turns most of her attention back to the bartender.
"Not a problem. Good way to start the night really, been years since I've been carded. Nurai says with a big warm smile, handing over her motorcycle license. Being in her thirties, it's not a big inconvenience to Nurai.
Looking over to the girl, Nurai responds gently, "Most people are a few sheets to the wind before they bring out trivia like that which didn't help you. My анасы would tell you wine is just gross bitter grape crap that wishes it was Сидр and that apples come from Kazakhstan so you should look for old stories - or symbolism - from there. I'm just going to point out most ciders are non-alcoholic in the States, like that one or that one if you'd like something that actually has actual flavour - it'll likely burn less going down too which is always a bonus for me. Beyond that, only our hostess will be able to help you find...symbolism.
Nurai turns her attention back to the bartender for her card and drink, glancing around for the previously mentioned hostess.
Aurora listens to the woman's weirdly accented words. Just going to point out? I grew up in a pub, I know more than you. And what's the deal with Kazakhstan?
"Eh, I didn't make it a mystery of being nineteen. I'll just raid the buffet instead."
"And soft cider is just apple juice, too sweet for me. But I didn't get some of the words you spoke, was it Russian? Well, whoever this Anasi person is, they shouldn't underestimate wine. There are some maenads around who would take offense at that remark, and they have a penchant for violence."
She heads away from the counter, grabbing her float and attacking the cold cuts tray with a barbaric impetus.
Nurai sputtered in laughter as the young woman walks away, "I guess she doesn't like random information being talked at her by a stranger. Thanks for this. Hope you have a lovely night, sir...". With a grin never faltering, she nods again to the bartender and turns away with her glass after a sip while putting away her card and wallet. Nurai looks around the room. This wasn't what she expected from an old mining town, but it was good as place as any to spend the New Year. Checking out the window, Nurai went to mingle and spread the love on the dance floor until the hostess arrived.
As the clock hit half past eleven the music lowered to a soft strum and the lights lowered. Valda walked out onto the stage, wearing formal trousers, patent leather shoes, a violet shirt and black waistcoat and tie. She runs a hand over her freshly shaved head that gleamed in the stage lights before taking a mic from a large, heavily built man with dark skin.
"Good evening, gentleman, ladies, those something other and those in between. I hope you're having a fun evening, enjoying the festivities, finding out exactly what ostrich tastes like and doing damage to my bank account by taking advantage of the bar."
Smiling, she continued, "Now, as most of you know, tonight is the night the Fae change courts, and Summer becomes Winter. In general a lot of things happen tonight or in the next few days, with things culminating in New Years. I've been told that something fun might be happening soon, but we'll have to see. Until then, we have some fun of our own at Midnight, and I hope to see you then. For now, keep taking out my bank account."
Hanging up the mic Valda hoped down from the stage and moved towards the bar. "Heya folks. Everyone having fun?"
Something fun, eh? Well, that was fine... as long as it was within a reasonably human definition of fun.
(Some might have called her a bit of a party-pooper, but that was mostly a reaction to some of the... encounters... she'd had in the past. On the other hand, she had a very firm opinion about things like this - if the fey didn't start any trouble, she wouldn't, either. Besides, she rather liked the fey when they weren't both hyperviolent and easily bored.)
Thus, instead of frowning like a stick in the mud, she simply nodded pleasantly as Valda came over. "I admit that I don't go to too many parties, but it has been pleasant. You've been a most generous host, and I thank you for that." ...A bit formal, maybe, but it basically never hurt to be polite. Doubly so to one's host - there were all kinds of nasty stories about what happened to people who weren't, and some of them were actually true. On the bright side, at least in certain cultures, being a respectful guest was also a defense of sorts against... things.
More to the point, though, she just preferred being nice to people.
Aurora rose from a pork cutlet, bowing at the graceful host. "I'll have more fun once I turn twenty-one, but it's a lovely party. Andhrímnir would envy the food you have laid out. And you know I've always liked Winter more than Summer. I toast to your good health, may there be fire in your hearth, music in your soul and friends at your side."
An old-fashioned toast, but Valda was one of the three people in the town who knew of Aurora's true nature, and it felt good to take on the Old Ways without being seen as a weirdo. Sure, she could pass it off as a love for mythology, but it was liberating not to have to hide. Not too much, at least.
"Valda, I love the outfit and what you've done with your hair!" Nurai called out, raising her glass that was hardly a third drank. Nurai preferred the people and the music and the dancing to the drinking, but always thought it was good to have on hand...if only to take advantage of spontaneous drinking games. Some of the best stories and friends come from those.
"Having a great time, thank you for the lovely invitation. I think the last party we were at together...either involved that explosive DJ or those not-quite-accidentally explosive....stars from Mama Inkar. You have any more fun planned for the upcoming festivities? " Nurai inquired as she took another drink.
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Jennifer Tsks in disappointment that they'll have to wait until Midnight to find out why there were all invited. She turns back to Daniel Solommn, handing him one of her business cards. The card is plain white with nothing but her name and phone number on it.
"To answer your question, I'm a freelance researcher. I only take jobs that I'm interested in if I can help it, but this is offset by the fact that the jobs I take tend to be... extreme. I'd be interested in reading some of your unpublished journals. If you're not of a mind to share those texts, then perhaps we can work out some sort of arrangement where I do a job or two for you. I'd have to charge a nominal fee. I have a giant SUV parked out front that I'm leasing, after all."
Solomon raises an eyebrow as the woman speaks of her unusual trade. "Not unlike someone you used to know, old boy." The words cross his mind before he can banish the thought. He smiles and takes the business card, looking down at the plain white face of it just as she remarks about her SUV. He looks up and frowns just in time to see her turn away. He continues to eye her with a complex intermingling of distaste and curiosity. "Hm."
Solomon pockets the business card and makes his way over to the bar where Valda is passing through, shaking hands and giving polite greetings. He takes a moment to assess her without prying.
He hovers just beyond her, patiently waiting for her to finish pleasantries with the more immediate guests. He stands impassively and still with his hands folded in front of him and tries to make eye contact.
The bartender shrugs at Valdaa as she walks up speaking to her in the same matter of fact tone he's given everyone thus far. "Just another night with a touch more weirdness than typical. Speaking of bank accounts boss we're running out of non-alcoholic stuff and the short hairy guys in the corner sucked down all the Lacasa so I've had to mess with the drinks menu until we get a minute to dig out some more from the basement. They're drinking sweet and fruity tonight. You'd think it was summer already."
Discipline: Veiled Moon (Stance); Level: 1
Initiation Action: 1 swift action
Range: Personal
Target: You
Duration: Stance
DESCRIPTION
By sensing the different patterns all beings that exist have, the senses of the Veiled Moon disciple exceed that of natural beings and move into the realm of supernatural awareness. While in this stance, the initiators gains the scent special ability and he may detect creatures on the Ethereal plane that are near the Material plane within 30-ft. of his position.
lemental Flux Style (combat, style)
You understand the fluid and changing nature of elemental magics.
Prerequisites: Spellcraft 3 ranks, one Elemental Flux stance known.
Benefit: You can change your active element once per round as a free action.
Even as Tom heard the words his sixth sense kicked in. Change among these kinds of people can be both beautiful and dangerous. Automatic defenses kicked in and his sense became more keen, more aware. He wasn't just catching the aroma of sweat and alcohol but the memory of trees and the whisps of cigarette smoke before the age of chemical additives and filters. It was subtle and only the most trained eye coud catch it, but Tom was on guard.
With a chuckle, Valda said, "Ah, it's not hard to have fun sober. Just wath the silliness."
Looking over at Nurai, she said, "Hopefully she'll send me a more fun present for the next gift giving occasion. One that explodes less." She laughed as she said it, though.
Doctor Solomon identifies Valda as human and fabulous. She grins as she shakes his hand. "Anything exciting in the latest research, Doc?"
Valda rolls her eyes at Thomas' comment. "I'm surprised, but such is life. You check downstairs again with the bartender and see if we can get some more, if we're need of it. Party will likely keep going till two, three. Maybe even send someone to do a run, but if no one complains then do what you're doing."
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As far as Miyu was concerned, the best fun was had while sober. She was a whitewater rafting girl, herself - there was something that was just flat-out fun about navigating rivers as part of a group and challenging the waters you faced, and it definitely wasn't the sort of thing she was going to try while drunk. That was well away from what could happen here, though, so she was content enough to relax and enjoy the atmosphere.
Doctor Solomon identifies Valda as human and fabulous. She grins as she shakes his hand. "Anything exciting in the latest research, Doc?"
Solomon is a bit caught off-guard by the question and stammers, "Um, well, yes actually," he adjusts his glasses and continues, "I've recently been measuring the effects of sensory deprivation on myelin production with some promising results..." He suddenly becomes aware that the question was probably just polite as Valda continues making her rounds. He shrugs and makes for the bar.
"Excuse me sir, but do you have any tea?" Solomon asks as he seats himself with perfect posture and folds his hands in front of him on the bar. "Something... mundane would be preferred."
With a curt nod the barman reaches below for a glass. Deftly placing it on the bartop his other arm emerges from a mini-fridge below with a clear plastic jug half full of a sloshing brown liquid one can assume is iced tea.
Pouring the drink the barman places it in front of Solomon without comment.
I'm always sober. It's a curse.
As Valda leaves, Aurora scans the crowd for something interesting to do. But the band is doing great, no need for her to sing, no one she knows, and dancing was never her cup of tea. Therefore she heads back to the counter, grinning at the silent bartender.
"Great talker, are you? I think I'll be inspired by the gentleman here and have iced green tea with jasmin, lemon and honey, two passion fruits as a side."
She tilts her head to the side, studying the scholarly man. Valda spoke to him, so he's not as vanilla as he seems. Some sort of student of the supernatural? Or someone cleverly disguised? Won't know if I don't ask. And hopefully he won't spout non-sequiturs about Kazakhstan.
"Hello, sir. Are you a friend of Valda's? What kind of person is she? She apparently knows my mother, but she wouldn't tell me anything about it. Oh, I'm Aurora, Aurora Goodberry."
Nurai laughed back with Valda, her eyes twinkling over the top of her sunglasses, "You know what my family is like about hospitality, there are a few gifts for you in one of my bags, I'll get them out later. Mama Sezim and Aнасы said they're all safe though uncle Арман sent one of his brews, one of the kinds that knocks most people out...I imagine it could make a potent boom if needed - not as much as Mama Inkar's stuff, she still can't apologize for that without laughing and commenting how it worked in our favour, but a few tricks can be done with it..." Nurai smiled sweetly, still chuckling, as she sipped her drink, looking over to the bartender.
"Always time for sweet and fruity, sir, though you're right, mulled Сидр or a spiced apple liqueur in hot chocolate would be more in keeping with the season. Will have to consider that if I finish or tire of this..." she commented with a smile, raising her drink, before looking back to Valda, "Unless you have a recommendation? I do love an expert opinion..."
Standing at the bar, Valda managed the enviable task of keeping several conversations going at once.
Valda stared at Solomon for a moment. "So removing basic input to sight, touch, hearing and such can have an effect on the myelin sheath? Positive or negative? I have a friend with MS - multiple scheloris - and that's all about the immune system going giddy and deciding the myelin is something to attack, right?"
Looking over at Nurai she said, "I think there's cinnamon and apple cider? I'm not too-."
A scream made the spellcaster's head whip around, her eyes wide. "That didn't sound like fun-time screaming. I know fun-time screaming. Excuse me while I go find out what's going on." Nodding, she put her drink on the bar and headed towards the bathroom.
Decorated in a motif of winter vines, the bathrooms literally sparkle. You see Valda kneeling by the door to the disabled cubicle, a look of horror on her face. A small arm lays limply on the floor, spilling out of the door.
As the scream resounded, Aurora sprung up, nostrils flared, a feeling in the back of her head. Ancestral memories surged, bringing battle, blood, and death with them.
<time to choose, sisters, time to head to battle, the ravens will feast>
No, no, no! It's no longer the time! I'm not Reginleif who walks the battlefield, I'm Aurora who keeps blood from spilling! Back, Choosers of the Slain! Back, Lord of the Gallows! I am in control!
And still she followed Valda, attracted by the thrill of danger and the echo of violence like a flea is to honey. She gazed over the ghastly scene with her otherwordly sight, looking for the subtle signs of life and death.
Solomon leaves his tea at the bar and walks in a calm but determined manner to stay near Valda.
"Not that kind of doctor." his subconscious retorts.
"Close enough." he replies to himself.
Seeing half the people leave the room to follow Valda, Jennifer also tags along.
Well... this just got awkward. Ducking down slightly to get out of most people's view, Miyu muttered something under her breath, and she felt her powers of foresight sharpen a little.
Following Valda to the bathroom, Miyu pressed a button on her ofuda holder. It was still mostly concealed beneath her sleeve, but holding it gave her access to what she needed for casting. She did not, however, push forward as soon as she could - there was already a smart-looking man checking over things, and instead, Miyu focused on keeping an eye on their surroundings and looking for threats, clues, or anything else of interest.
And she sure as heck wasn't going to miss anything.
Nurai's smile dropped, along with glass on the bar near Valda's, and followed the hostess. Nurai stopped outside and standing next to the bathroom entrance, out of the way in the darker less sparkly hall but within earshot if needed.
She looked around, pushing her sunglasses on her nose as she watched for people or anything unusual. After a minute, she glances to the ground with a nod, before continuing her watch.
In the darker hallway, her stretching shadow swaying slightly to the music's beat as Nurai stood still, slightly on edge as her smile began trying to come back...
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Thomas mixed the requested drinks, again, without comment knowing it's not worth responding to teenaged snark.
However when the older darker woman spoke to him he brightened up considerably and smiled in return. Smart, pleasant and attractive, at worst he was about to have good conversation and maybe make a friend. At best he might get laid. Winning all around.
Sadly as he opened his mouth someone had to kill the mood, and probably another person. As the woman understandably dropped her drink and fled the bar, towards the scream he noticed, he sighed and cleaned the small mess made.
He didn't bother to run towards the scream, they had guys for that and Valda could handle herself. Instead he kept his eyes on the crowd. Who ran towards the scream, who ran away, who stuck around and who was trying their damndest to be as inconspicuous as possible.
Perception
Standing up to allow Solomon to look at the body, Valda looked over her shoulder at the rest of you. "Oh...hey, guys. Heh. Funny story. There's a dead body in the disabled toilet." She glanced over at Solomon. "He is dead, right?"
You also notice a hand print on the window leading outside.
Solomon stands, gaze still fixated on the dead... "person". "Yes, it would appear so." He places a hand on Valda's shoulder and leans in close.
"Yeah, it's no trick, he's dead as can be."
Aurora turned towards the crowd back in the pub, looking at the creatures dancing. "I can ask around if anyone knew him, provided this is not the surprise you planned for midnight. Could it be related to it, though? Or to the Courts?"
Miyu frowned slightly as she moved over to the window and began to examine it in more detail, relying - for the moment - on her keen eyesight. "And what have we here..." she mused. "Miss Valda, have you made any enemies lately? It looks to me like someone planted this body here... but whatever their reason, I can't say I'm very fond of it." She placed a hand on the body a moment later, and curved writing in the brilliant jade script appeared beneath her fingers as she tried to pick up any lingering auras on the body.
Outside of her investigative work, she was an exorcist. She got rid of problems... but she usually tried to avoid killing things. Even if the victim was a fey, this didn't sit right with her at all.
Nurai stared down the cloaked figure as she listened to the tone of voices coming from the restroom. She waited a moment with raised eyebrows, staying fixed to the spot next to the door, pointed glare over her sunglasses but still with a smile, "There's been an incident, I suggest find you find another place to go. I think there is one downstairs. I would not try to interrupt the hostess right now..."
The shadow twitched around Nurai's feet. She had brought them out in case there was an attacker still in the bathroom or something heavy needed moving or the many other ways an extra pair of hands could be of use. Normally happy to blend in, something was making them twitchy. Nurai hoped it was just her growing nerves...well, one thing might calm them down.
Thomsa observed the man trying to place him from earlier in the night. New arrival with bad timing and worse fashion sense? Maybe. Maybe not.
Giving himself over to the voices he zoned out for a second showing no outward signs but nonetheless channeling strong energies. He didn't like doing this. It often returned nothing but it was still worth a shot.
Caster Level check vs. DC20, 25, or 30[/ooc]
"So, someone killed this guy, and then brought the body here. Is this a message or a distraction?"
Her arms crossed as she leans against the door frame, Jennifer's eyes dart back out into the club, indicating that if Valda and company are in here, this could be a distraction for something about to happen out there.
She nodded to the doctor, leaned in and speaking quietly...although perhaps not as quietly as she could. "Not all the guests are. I don't know this boy, but people brought plus ones...and twos...and sometimes some of the more powerful ones can just walk in. Not sure what he is, though - a lot of things get butterfly wings. I could grow them, in a pinch. Depends on if they're permanent or not."
As to what killed him...the gouges in the neck seem likely, but the limited blood makes it seem unlikely. Looking at the gouges, the tops are small, neat punctures turning to tears as they run down the neck. A bite pulled away? But the lack of blood...
As Solomon dives into what is left of the boys mind, he can see only a few images. The last flickering images in his mind show a world of shadows and greys. Pleasure. Joy in gold, flowing through the blood. The shadows flickers. One moves. Leans overs.
Rubbing her head, Valda answered Aurora, "Normally, it's one big party over in the Fae's court. Kinda like a wake. Celebrating what's about to be lost and what's to come. Sometimes, they come over and party here, which looks like what happened with this kid. He came with someone to have a good time. Which...might not be a goo thing."
Valda looked over at Miyu. "Not that I can think of. All the people who really don't like me are dead, usually due to some overly complicated plot that backfired in their face." Making a face, she nods at the body. "Kinda like this one is looking like. I mean...who screamed?"
~~~~~~~
Outside the bathrooms, the figure stops before Nurai. It towers over the Avatar. Bronze armour gleams beneath the cloak, which Nurai can now see if slowly turning to winter pine. The plumage on the bird mask - is it a mask? - changes to white as well. "Thou art ill-advised to stand before me, Avatar. Blood sings to blood and kin of kin. My task lies behind yonder door, and thou shalt not gainsay this right of guest hold, to check upon kin."
And behind the rider, something far greater, the Lord of all Hunts...
Nurai continued smiling sweetly up at the person before them, staring at them from behind her sunglasses, "Interesting. That is not usually the first thing people notice and address me by and playing to my love of hospitality at that...clever magic...I will have to check with the hostness first though. Their protection is my priority as guest...she will decide the rights here."
She shifted backwards, the shadow moving between the two though Nurai's eyes and smile never moved, before Nurai called in her usual singsong voice though words chosen carefully, She kept smiling as she waited for a response to her request...her really loud sweet request in a really busy place.
Solomon ponders for just a moment, then pulls out a handkerchief and moves for the window to peer outside, careful not to touch it with his hand. "I... do you suppose the police will arrive soon?" He wonders aloud, unsure of how law is applied in a place like this.