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[Fiction] Babylon Reborn: Arrivals


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Oct. 13, 2016. 9:54pm.

Outside Club Babylon, crowds of novaphiles, gossip hounds, and paparazzi filled the sidewalks and overflowed into North Clark Street in teeming waves. The cold night air did nothing to dissuade them; they simply bundled up and steadied their cameras and recorders with gloved and mittened hands, their breath freezing in ethereal plumes of white. The allure of a nova gathering was just too irresistible, and Chicago’s notoriously frigid winds were only a minor annoyance as they huddled together. Their voices were a cacophony of whispers and muffled exclamations, almost drowning out the sound of traffic beyond the police barricades at either end of the block. All around, red and blue lights strobed the buildings as patrol cars and uniformed officers did their best to contain the teeming throngs.

It was a scene of utter chaos, save for the reverently observed space cordoned off by ropes of scarlet velvet and gilded chain that led from the heavy double doors of the club itself to the well-guarded valet service a short distance away. A few vehicles had already begun to arrive, politely waved through by several members of Chicago’s finest, and were on their way through the rapidly swelling crowd.

Inside Club Babylon, the atmosphere was no less charged, and if possible even more chaotic. Members of the staff raced frantically through the building, checking lights and sound equipment for functionality, tuning them to the proper brightness and volume, and then lowering the lights again to a softer, dimmer level when Velvet admonished them. Kitchen and bar inventories were checked and rechecked a half-dozen times, pillows in the lounge were carefully positioned so as to appear haphazardly elegant, and a thousand other minute details were attended within the span of three minutes.

Only when the last red crystal chandelier was ablaze in the main hall, the marble fireplace stalwartly imprisoned the leaping flames of a crackling fire, and the last employee was in uniform did “Miss Vincent” make her final rounds through the building.

Critically, she examined the staff; those who worked on the main floor in the bar area were more traditionally attired in semi-formal uniforms of vibrant jewel tones. Those who were to be stationed on the upper level were instead clad in vinyl, or another material more associated with the dance floor where they’d be working, and the employees who worked on the lower level were costumed and bedecked in diaphanous silks and glittering ornaments like members of an ancient harem transported briefly to the modern day.

The murals on the walls fairly glowed, images of the Ishtar Gate and the Hanging Gardens as luminous and vibrant as if the gilt-painted borders that surrounded them were simply window frames for portals that opened out into another world. Music pulsed through the building, muffled only slightly by plush carpeting and heavy velvet draperies that shrouded the walls and doorways, and the heady, exotic scent of kyphi incense wafted from ornamental braziers in serpentine plumes of fragrant smoke. Relics and reproductions stood side by side in a modern, three-floor shrine to decadence and pleasure that never failed to fill her with a sense of pride and even awe that it actually belonged to her. She adjusted a small knob on one of the floor-to-ceiling pillars, tinkering nervously with the level of ambient light once more, before nodding to the assembled staff members to take their stations.

Please, let this go well, she thought, but if it doesn’t, I’ve got a dozen cases of sake in the back with my name on them… literally. A wry grin curved her full lips, and she glanced briefly into “The Mirror” (as she’d come to think of it), quickly checking her makeup and smoothing down the front of her gown. The sleek black satin was faintly iridescent, with muted shimmers of violet and sapphire blue rippling over the fabric as she moved; it was a perfect contrast against her ivory skin, and served only to make her eyes and hair even more luminous. Save for two narrow ribbons on either side, her shoulders were completely bare, and the skintight bodice created an ample display of creamy cleavage above the straight neckline. Hip-high slits in the floor length skirt revealed an indecent length of shapely legs, and an assortment of ornate gold bands adorned her bare arms, tinkling faintly with even the subtlest gesture. With a thought, an aura of pleasant warmth and joviality surrounded her, and then there was no time left to worry.

Outside, the massive doors swung slowly open, revealing the granite-floored foyer beyond the temple-themed façade. Illuminated by vivid flares of violet neon as the sign overhead hummed to life, the proprietor’s lush figure appeared in the doorway. Glimmers of topaz shimmered in the darkness over her shoulder as the silhouette of a dark-suited man lingered half a step behind.

“Ladies, gentlemen,” she called in a rich, velvet-smooth voice as she spread her arms in greeting, “welcome to Club Babylon!”

[Velvet has activated Soothe, in an attempt to further enhance the pleasant atmosphere and limit any "issues" which might arise in her presence.]

(Changed the topic subject to reflect the need for people to start branching off.)

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"Look, Barry, are you sure about this? I don't know anyone in Chicago, and other than my fan club, I doubt they know me." Simone twirled a lock of blonde hair around one finger.

The voice coming back over the phone chuckled. "Look babe, you made me your agent because I know people. And the people I know said this is an open invitation to any nova. It'll get you some free publicity, which will make those penny pinchers at the casino happier. Just go be your usual friendly self."

There was a moment of silence. "You want me to go in concert dress and order people around like a Nordic princess?" Simone's voice was doubtful as she let go of her hair.

"Hey, why not? Listen sweetcheeks, you've got maybe an hour before the opening. Head down there, mingle with the other novas, make some friends. Call me tomorrow so I can confirm anything that's on the news. Or put out a good spin!" There was a click, and Simone set down the hotel phone.

Sighing and shaking her head, she gave her hair a quick brushthrough, and concentrated on her Eufiber for just a moment, turning it rather plain. With a printout of directions, she caught a cab, taking it across the city and a block away from the club. Her appearance is still enough to draw attention, photographers snapping pictures of her as she moves up to the barricade, and the police officers let her through. She slowly moves up to the crowd of novas inside the barricade, and her clothes shift.

Sneakers turn into a pair of black leather boots, her jeans and t-shirt slowly turn into a dazzling white dress, an image of Hans Christian Anderson's Snow Queen brought to life, standing on the edge of the crowd.

[Awe Inspiring, of course, is always on, at one dot of Mega-Appearance.]

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One look at her and Ben knew he had made a mistake. He had spotted her the moment the door had opened of course he had been loitering outside for the better part of a half an hour.

Earlier in the day she had said casual but there was no casual to be had in her appearance now. It was intimidating, earlier she was just a person he could talk to and now she was this beautiful and pleasant hostess but above all radiantly beautiful. Quickly Ben turned away and made his way down the street illuminated with red and blue. A turn down a alleyway and a pin prick of blue blossomed into his one and only true power then with a step he was a world away walking down the streets of Hong Kong. The daylight was a abrupt departure from the artificial light he had been in a moment earlier. The mall he made his way to was wealthy and affluent and when Ben burst through the door of the Saks 5th Avenue no one was really caught by suprise.

Finding the first employee he could he pulled them aside and whispered. "You have less than thirty minutes to put me in the nicest suit you have here!"

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For most of the airline flight from Denver to Chicago, Timothy "Flea" Taylor had questioned his decision to attend the club opening. On the one hand, he worked for Project Utopia, and it was possible that his manager would ding his next review for engaging in questionable public behavior. However, since he'd started for the Project in July, he'd grown increasingly dissatisfied with the culture of the Project. Despite being a nova, he felt micro-managed and too-closely scritinized, as if he were back in high school.

Yeah, just like high school, he thought as he stood on the sidewalk outside. He'd pulled his ski jacket up to his ears to obscure his features, so that he could stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the baselines and blend in. While he was tall, he was not unusually so, and his sculpted nova musculature was concealed beneath the down jacket. Of course, he'd be obvious to anyone with the ability to detect novas, but in a big crowd like this, he passed for baseline quite well.

Go here, go there, do this, don't do that, do you have your permission slip, he thought to himself. Stupid bureaucrats, lording it up over us like we need their help to find our own asses without a map and a compass. Without realizing it, he'd nodded emphatically.

When Miss Vincent stood framed in the open doorway to Club Babylon with her arms spread, he knew he'd made the right decision.

"I am definitely in the right place," he said out loud under his breath as he maneuvered through the crowd toward the velvet rope. Upon reaching the symbolic barricade, he looked at Velvet. Typically, when faced with daunting beauty in the past, he had frozen, too intimidated to think clearly. This time was different; he felt more eloquent than he had in years as he unzipped his jacket and squared his shoulders.

"Does this mean it's time to start the party?" He asked, not understanding what it was about Velvet that put him so at ease.

This is so weird, he thought, I'm not nervous at all. What is it about her?

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Long nodded as he checked his appearance one last time in the mirror in the master bedroom. He stood in his noral form. His Eufiber Jacket and shorts both configured in the black leather with read trim he normally wore when going out. We wore no shoes or undershirt, they would be unecessary. This was a "nova's only" function, there was no need to consider the reactions of normal people. He kept his tail unfurled, it was more relaxing this way.

His final preparations made he walked outside his house and took to the skies. From there he stopped and concentrated on the club in Chicago. There was a brilliant flash of light and then Long appeared about two blocks away in the sky above Chicago. H made his way to the club and descended right at the edge of the throng of nova-watching humans. There's the flash of several blubs as his picture is taken and he smiles and draws himself to his full eight foot height. He nods to several people in the crowd and to each of the other novas, unfamiliar faces all as he makes his way up to the grand doorway where Velvet stood in all her Aphrodite-like beauty speaking to one of the other guests that had arrived before him.

He smiles when he gets to her as he bows slightly from the waist. "I've been looking forward to this Ms. Vincent, and am truly glad that I could make it. My wife sadly won't be attending, but she would have liked to."

His voice dropped to where only she could hear him. Don't worry everything is going to be fine tonight." His eyes transmitted the part left unsaid, that should she need him to help Revenant, he was there.

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"Does this mean it's time to start the party?" asked the tall young man as he unzipped the heavy down-filled coat. With a subtle but appraising eye, she took in the well-toned physique beneath crisp black slacks and a steel grey shirt. The black buttons that marched down his shirtfront gleamed with the luster inherent to polished stone, and she wondered idly if they were onyx or jet.

"Congratulations," she said, smiling. "You're the first one to survive the gauntlet." Her head tilted slightly to indicate the press of eager fans on either side of the walkway. "And who might you be, cutie?"

A dark shadow stretched over the two, and despite Revenant's reassuring presence behind her, she glanced upward with some measure of apprehension. It quickly faded as she recognized the luminous blue eyes of the massive tiger-like nova, and her relief was almost palpable.

Remember, V, this is a nova party, so expect the unexpected! she reminded herself.

"Long! I'm so glad you could make it. Hopefully your lady wife'll be able to stop by sometime soon, as well. I'd really like to thank her personally for her... gift."

It went without saying that she referred to the repairs Timeslip had made to Violet's beloved mirror, and her eyes crinkled with pleasure at the thought. Briefly, she nodded as Long imparted his reassurances, and her answering smile was both broad and genuine.

"If you'd like to step inside? Everything's ready, and I'll be headed in to mingle shortly."

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Timothy gingerly ducked under the velvet rope. Standing on the other side felt different to him, as if he had crossed a barrier which was more than physical.

"Tim Taylor," he said quickly, finding it easy to meet Velvet's eyes, although he was struck by their scintillating violet color. "But I go by 'Flea,' too."

Just then, the Death Star entered orbit around Yavin.

No, no, not the Death Star, Flea thought, looking to his right at the absolutely gigantic form of Long. It's just Long. Jesus Christ, he's huge. Involuntarily, Flea took a step to his left, away from the towering man-tiger.

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Simone looks up as a large shape moves past her, and she almost cringes when she sees the famous (infamous?) Long. "Yep, one heck of a party," she whispers to herself. "Didn't know I was going to be hanging out with Terats though." Seeing that the doors are open, and their hostess has emerged, she moves slowly towards the doors, smiling at the other novas around her.

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"Good to meet you," Flea blurted involuntarily. He was struck by the way Long's form eclipsed so much of his field of view. Flea felt less like one nova meeting another and more like a bug about to meet a windshield.

"I'm, uh, Flea," Flea said, taken aback at how quickly the evening had spiralled out of control. His reflex was to stick out his hand, but Long was a Terat, and Flea worked for Project Utopia. Still, he had begun to raise his hand, and the only way to continue without looking like a fool was to finish the motion. Flea extended his hand more confidently, offering a handshake and a grin.

I am so screwed, he thought.

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Long took the hand and returned the gesture. He caught several flashes again and chuckled. "That's certainly going to find it's way to a newspaper or tabloid somewhere."

He nods his head and released Flea's hand. "C'mon let's go inside before they start asking stupid questions." He turned his head slightly to indicate the throng of humanity. "I'm certain seeing a Terat shake hands with a Utopian will cause a stir."

With that be began making his way inside, and out of view of thebaselines.

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Swept along by Long's gravitational pull, Flea entered Club Babylon's foyer.

"Yeah, it will," he replied to Long's back, speaking quietly, "I'm pretty sure I'll be looking for another job on Monday now."

Fuck, he thought. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Flea paused inside the doorway and slowly took in the club's decor. To say that it blew his mind was an understatement.

Maybe I could move to Chicago, he thought, and become a regular here. Yes. This plan pleases me.

"Well, if I have to lose my job, this is a hell of a way to do it," he admitted. Flea shrugged out of his jacket and set it on the coat check counter, and stepped inside the club proper.

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With everything getting started Warren maintained his place in the shadows giving Velvet her time to introduce herself and greet all her guests. Tonight was hers, and he would see to it that her smile remained no matter the cost.

Tonight he was wearing his eufiber as a tuxedo, save for the black undershirt instead of a white one. His hair was tied tightly back in a ponytail. For once he was actually clean-shaven and looking like a presentable, handsome gentleman (that we all know he is.).

Although on the outside his topaz eyes loomed eerily in the foyer, from his point of view the world was hazed over as he allowed his eyes to shift perceptions into the Netherworld. From here he gazed through the souls of those who approached, reading their levels of power and making sure no ‘baselines’ snuck their way past.

As Long nodded in Revenant’s direction, Warren offered a slow acknowledging nod in return. The macho kind that only people like Long and Revenant understood. He glanced at Flea as well as he strode past, offering in an echoed lament of suffering souls “Welcome. Please enjoy your night here at Club Babylon.”

As Flea set his coat on the counter, a solid, echoing ‘SNAP’ of Warren’s fingers spurred the gawking attendant at the counter into action.

[Quantum Attunement is active, and assisting Revenant in making sure no baselines try and sneak in.]

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"Boss," Virgil said in a voice full of worry, "are you and Ms. Selena sure about this. I mean, its a ... well, a place were women take their clothes off ... I mean ..."

"And men, too," Selena Ramirez teased. "I understand they have male entertainers there too."

Virgil blushed and stammered some more until Preston intervened.

"Virgil, it will be fine. We are going there to get our presence out there among more of the nova community, such as it is. Since Amesterdam, we've been needing to establish the GBMPD as a truly independent entity in the eyes of our fellow novas. Trust me. Besides, it isn't like this will be the first Adult Entertainment facility any of us have been to."

Virgil could only nod, though his face still showed his displeasure.

Preston looked over at Aguilar.

"You two have the fort tonight. Crusader's on call and we are only a few footsteps away if needed. Everything should be fine."

Aguilar, for his part, couldn't tear his eyes away from Selena. Her raven-black hair was pulled back into a large ponytail interwoven with her mane. The dress was white satin with only the tiniest hint of a blue sheen to it. It was sleevless and held up with the thinnest of straps, but complimented by her elbow length gloves of the same color. As usual, Selena went without make-up, though she had the barest hint of a designer perfume that only heightened her sensuality.

Preston wore the tradition black evening jacket, silver vest, and starched white shirt. His cumberbund was white with a silver lining, his cologne was understated, and his shoes were a glossy black. His most overwhelming feature was, as always,the glow of his eyes, a soft-milky white, which held their usualy quiet dignitiy, power, and mystery.

Preston extended his arm to Selena and couldn't stop himself from lingering for a moment in her eyes. No matter how much of himself wanted to declare this a social-political function for the force, in his heart he knew this was a date ... their first date, and the first date he had been on since his marriage collapsed more than 15 years ago.

"You are radiantly beautiful," Preston told her with his trademark confidence.

"I'm glad you finally noticed," Selena whispered back so that only he could here.

Space twisted and ruptured and a crowded street scene become visible. Together, the two police-novas stepped out into the space being made for them. It took most novaphiles a few seconds to realize who they were, despite their fame. Selena's aberrations were the first thing to give them away, and then the whipsering went wild. Certainly these two novas were among the least likely to be expected here, on this or any other night.

Diligently, Preston and Selena stepped forward to the police line and proffered their ID's as well as discreetly exhibited their firearms. The police nodded and let them pass.

The first wave of security was so taken/awed with Selena, they let the two enter the club. Preston politely garnered the attention of one of the guardians just inside and said,

"We'll need to see your head of security for a moment, if you please?"

The man blinked only for a second (he really was on his toes) and made a discreet call over the club's security communications net.

*Revenant. Two novas requesting your presence at Prime enterance.*

"Please wait right over there," the man motioned and Preston led Selena off to the side.

[selena has Mega-App2 with Seductive Looks (not active-pheromone induced) and Mega-Cha. 1 (Seductive) (not active). Preston has Mega-Cha. 3 with Commanding Presence (not active)]

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Jager held the case as if it contained Nitro, because in a way, it did. He finished his race across the rooftops a block and a half away before gently sliding down a fire escape into an alleyway just out of view of the 'Babylon throng' and stepped into the street. He pulled his aura close about him and made his way up and through the crowd [Mr. Nobody], not exposing himself until he crossed through the line. The policeman who was about to stop him, pulled back with the slightest hint of fear.

"Uh ... sorry Jager. I didn't recognize you," the cop blathered.

"No problem," Jager murmured, setting the man's mind at ease, "I'm just here for a quiet night's entertainment. Oh, and thanks for keeping the crowd in line tonight. We really appreciate it."

The words were simple, but quantum drove their meaning and sincerity home with force.

With that done, Jager stepped inside, saw the owner and greeted he with a smile of his own.

"Quite a comfortable place you have her, Ms. Vincent. I have a Business Warming gift for you. Its just a little something to show my gratitude."

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From across the street, a pair of almond-shaped eyes watched the clamouring crowd filled with flashing light-bulbs warily. Lentil-shaped pupils reflected back the stray light momentarily before the cat slowly slunk back into the shadows between two buildings.

Ai assumed her real shape for a brief moment in the shadows of the laneway before recalling the picture that she wanted to mimic. Her shining blue-black hair faded into a more sedate sable-brown while her slanted eyes went from almost-black to tigerseye-brown, complete with velvety striping when the light shone in them. Delicate ivory skin deepened into a golden-brown hue and the features of her face became less ethereal, seemingly feral. Her eufiber shifted from her usual matte-black body-glove into a daringly cut catsuit rippling with emerald, scarlet, black and sapphire tiger's stripes. When her transformation was complete, she climbed the wall of the nearest building and walked to the ceiling's edge facing the club.

Cameras flashed as an Indochinese woman jumped gracefully down from the roof, landing neatly in the midst of the crowd, and walked proudly to the door. She ignored all reporters, none of whom had any idea who she was, and entered the building.

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Tessio arrived in what would have been, in normal circumstances, in a normal fashion. He drove up in his Silver Aston Martin and the Valet opened the door for him. Tessio took the two wooden cases off the passanger seat, dismounted from the car and let the Valet stick the ticket in his front pocket.

Tessio only felt slightly terrified. Not only was he without his guns, but he was in a very public setting and he was about to meet the most stunning, interesting, and facinating person on the face of the Earth yet again. Yeah, terrified pretty much covered it.

Still, Tessio Nerospina did his best to put on a bold front. He ignored all the questions thrown his way - being mute had its advantages and passed into the club. His silk, grey suit and slender tie all but screamed mafioso, even if a beautifully dressed one. Tessio saw Velvet and froze up for a moment. Fortunately, no one ran over him in his hesitation, and he continued toward her. As he approarched her, Tessio palmed one case with his left hand, deftly placed the second case on top of the first, and drew out a calligraphied note to hand to her. He hoped it beat him stupidly trying tap out the meaning and origin of his gift.

Each case contains four wine glasses of Samarkand Crystal. They have your initial carved upon one face and the Sanskrit symbol for Babylon engraved on the other. Somewhere on the stem of each one is the year of the club's opening. I hope you enjoy these for a long time in happiness and good health.

Your friend,


Now, he just hoped she'd read it and not hand it off to a waiting attendent.

[blackThorn has Mega-App. 1 with Halo (if allowable) or no active enhancements at this time.]

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A smile and a pleasant greeting were offered to every nova that passed between the heavy front doors; her only regret was that, with the shifting crowd, she was not able to speak with them all as they entered.

Plenty of time for that later, she conceded, trying not to shiver in the chill of the biting wind. Say hello for a little longer, then go inside and play hostess... next to the fireplace.

The blond hair and blue eyes were unmistakeable, as was the aura of power that all but glowed around the new arrival as he interrupted her thoughts.

“Ahh, Jager,” she said, accepting the proffered box with a grateful, if slightly perplexed smile. “A business-warming gift? Thank you, though I certainly wasn’t expecting anything.”

Quickly, one of the staff took the slightly bulky package and held it for the violet-haired woman. A winsome smile was his reward, and as he blushed uncomfortably in his new uniform she deftly opened the lid. Inside rested one bottle each of several of her favorite beverages, including a red wine that she knew was ridiculously expensive because she’d splurged on it several months before.

“Thank you!” she exclaimed, glancing back up at Jager in surprise. “That’s very generous of you.”

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Simone moves up to the door with just enough time to see someone (Could that be the Jager fellow I've heard about? Nah, couldn't be) hand a beautiful woman with purple hair a package. She stepped up with a nervous smile and held out a hand. "Hi, I hope we weren't all expected to bring gifts. I was told about a nova=only club opening, and, well, I just sort of showed up."

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From out of the hazy darkness of the club Revenant walked into the foyer where Preston, Selena, and the member of security that paged him. He walked forward, barely recognizable to those who had seen him before, asking the staff member. “What’s the problem?”

“This gentleman sir, he asked me to page you.” The man, seemed unnerved by the very presence of Revenant.

Looking at Preston and his lovely date, Warren asked politely. “I am Revenant, pleasure to meet you. Is there something I can help you with?”

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"Not even half of what you deserve, Madame. I appreciate good clubs and this definitely promises to be good, if not great. Now I'll make my way downstairs for a bit of relaxation."

Jager steps out of the way and eyes the woman who comes up behind him.

After Velvet greets her, Jager offers his hand.

"Hi. I'm Jager with the Windy City Knights. I'm making my way downstairs for a drink and a smoke. Since we're both alone, care to come along and share a table?"

Jager's tone is calm and casual, though there is a certain deadly stillness about him if anyone watches him long enough.

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Simone gapes at Jager, completely missing whatever Velvet says to her, and squeals. "I knew it! You are Jager!" She grabes his hand, pumping it up and down and practically bouncing on her short boot heels, before turning back towards the hostess.

"Um, I can come in, right?" She looks hopeful, doing her best to be both commanding and hopeful.

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Long feels Jager's presence in addition to the arrival of Preston Sr. Torn between two novas he respects, he chooses to acknowledge the one he has the most history with. He walks over to where Jager is standing and smiles.

"It's been a long time old friend. I'm glad to see that you could make it here tonight. It's nice to see that even the Knights get to relax every once in awhile."

He nods to the young woman beside Jager and bows his head slightly. "Forgive me, it was rude of me to interrupt your conversation. I am Long, it is a pleasure to meet you."

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“I am Revenant, pleasure to meet you. Is there something I can help you with?”

"I hope so," Preston respond positively. "I am Captain Craig Preston of the GMBPD." He flourishes a badge, as does the woman beside him.

"We are required whenever possible by law to carry standard issue firearms with us when off duty. We are currently both carrying concealed weapons."

Preston opens his jacket and shows Revenant his shoulder holdered 9mm ACP, and Selena opens her handpuse and shows a holstered .357Magnum S&W.

"We would prefer to keep our weapons on us. If that is not possible, could you provide a safe for their safe keeping until we are ready to leave?"

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Originally Posted By: Long
He nods to the young woman beside Jager and bows his head slightly. "Forgive me, it was rude of me to interrupt your conversation. I am Long, it is a pleasure to meet you."
Her enthusiasm noticably dampens as Long turns to her, and she nods respectfully, drawing herself up with a bit more of her 'Stage Presence.' "Yes, I've heard of you. I'm Simone, but I seem to be stuck with the monicker 'Death Metal Girl' by my small but fanatical fan club."

She turns back to Jager, and puts a hand on his arm. "I believe you offered me a drink, Mr. Jager?"
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While keeping a gentle hold of Simone's hand, Jager actually hugs Long with his other hand.

"Good to see you again, old friend. I hope you, your sister and the childen are okay," he says to Long.

Looking back to DeathMetalGirl,

"It's just Jager. As a nova I don't go by a possessive if I can get away with it, and yes, I would like to explore the lower level with you."

Jager gives Long a cautionary look, but brushes an errant hair away from his temple as he moves to slip an arm around Simone.

"Do you prefer to be called Simone ... by your friends," he asks the Nordic beauty.

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Revenant looks at the weapons and continues to listen to Preston as he speaks, grining slightly as he looks within Selena's purse.

"While I understand you situation I must stress the obvious point that off duty oficers, while prmitted to carry firearms, must limit their choice in weaponry to standard issue. .357 is not a standard issue firearm. At least not in Chicago. So, you are permitted to carry your firearm Captain Preston but I'm affraid I'll have to appropriate your partners. It will be locked up within our safe, and returned when she is prepared to leave."

He cups his hands together and then hold one out to Selena, requesting her weapon silently. "Will there be anything else?"

Selena relinquishes her weapon with out complaint, and the couple go about thier way towards the upper level.

While watching the officers leave Warren placed his finger to his ear listening intently for a moment. He brushed past Velvet leaning and whispering into her ear, "We have a guest at the side entrance. I'll only be a moment." She smiled and nodded assuring him that things would be fine while Long was near, knowing that when it comes to Long, nothing could repel firepower of his magnitude.

Within a minute Revenant stood outside the side entrance of Club Babylon. A mesmerizing red 1947 Cadillac 61 Series sat there in all its classic glory. Warren stood for a moment, absolutely impressed. The tinted windows prevented him from seeing the occupant but given the vehicles majesty he didn't think it mattered. He looked at the valet for a moment, who just looked back and offered a confused shrug.

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She laughs and will follow his lead into the club. "I prefer Simone, but I'll usually answer to 'DM' or 'Hey beautiful.'" She glances around at some of the other novas entering. "Though I think some of the other guests have more right to that nickname than I do!"

If they see any others of the WCK as they enter the club, Simone will greet them politely with a handclasp or bow, as seems appropriate. "Say, maybe your group should take a few days of vacation in Vegas. I'll get you free tickets to my show, maybe I can talk the manager into comping you guys suites for publicity."

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The battered Winnebago that slid to a stop on the road in front of the club was in glaring contrast to the usual limousines and expensive vehicles that had been stopping.

A moment later, a figure in a black t-shirt that said “Burning Man 2016” and torn jeans staggered out of the Winnebago, a bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag in his right hand. He was unshaven, and slightly too thin.

He waved at the inhabitants of the darkened interior, then turned, seemingly surprised at the mass of lights and cameras pointed in his direction. He grimaced for a moment, then shrugged. The people behind him slammed the door and the Winnebago lurched into sudden motion, squealing in it’s rush to leave.

He stood frozen for a moment, then grinned at the crowd. Staggering slightly, he walked casually up the red carpet, grinning to the photographers.

The murmurs from the crowd as no one recognized him didn’t seem to affect him at all.

Two men stepped in front of him.

“This is a private party, sir. Novas only.”

“Hey, that’s perfect, man. I’M a nova!” His grin, though infectious seemed to have no effect on either of the two men.

“Look, you’ve gotta let me in. I haven’t had a decent buzz since I erupted. You have no idea how much it takes even to…” He shook his head, then sighed.

He grimaced, and strained, and slowly, his face began to melt and shift. A moment later, one of the men was looking at his own reflection.

The men looked at each other, then one stepped back and opened the door.

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Long returns Jager's hug, mindful of his claws. Long's features visibly darken at the mention of his sister, but they return quickly to a more cheerful disposition.

"There are complications, but now is not the proper time to discuss them, perhaps later on. Though that said I would like your opinion on some things, and I have a special request. Right now it's all about meeting new people and enjoying the company of our fellow novas." His pearly white fangs gleam in the light as he smiles. He nods to Jager and begins to make his way off to find the other familiar nova he'd felt.

Before he leaves he points to his timple and scratches his left cheek in a circle with one finger. It was a sign Jager recognized as meaning "possible telepaths present, connection unsecure" It was the answer to his own gesture, and thus set the stage for a meeting later that evening away from the other novas present.

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"Excuse me," Velvet murmured apologetically to the unnervingly calm Windy City Knight, and turned to greet Tessio. True to his word, he'd brought the gift he'd mentioned earlier that day in the OpNet chat room, in the form of two wooden cases and a slip of parchment. “Do you mind, doll?” she asked of the employee still holding the box of rather expensive bottles, and he shook his head emphatically, determined to please despite the complaints of his biceps.

“No, Miss Vincent, not at all!”

“Thanks, love,” she chuckled, and unfolded the note. As she read, a violet brow arched ever higher until she carefully creased the paper shut once more and lifted the lid on one of the long cases. Sure enough, the glint of crystal sparkled like diamonds beneath the lights, each goblet resting carefully in a bedding of silk and shredded brown paper. Wordlessly, she admired them for several long moments, and then promptly turned and quickly gave Tessio a warm, grateful hug.

“They’re beautiful. I know just where to put them, too,” she said as she released him, grinning in spite of herself at the nearby woman’s enthusiasm.

“I apologize, it’s a bit chaotic at the moment,” Velvet admitted ruefully to all those nearby, smiling as she placed the note inside the box and whispering to the young man in uniform that he didn’t have to stand outside and freeze, and could he set those boxes in her office?

He rushed off just as she turned to greet the statuesque blonde, smiling admiringly at the newcomer’s cool, elegant appearance and trying valiantly not to chuckle as the woman bounced and squealed like a schoolgirl. Before she could answer, however, Jager swiftly interposed himself and led the Nordic beauty inside.

She blinked, her violet eyes wide with surprise, and then shrugged, chuckling as she shook her head.

“Better get inside, Tess. The party’s starting!”

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“We’ll have to take that bottle sir.” A guard stood near the door. “And see your ID.”

“It’s just water,” Bacchus said, looking at the bottle in his hand and concentrating for a moment before handing it over.

He pulled a worn wallet from his back pocket and flipped it open. The picture on the ID was barely recognizable as being him; the man in the picture was 100 pounds heavier and obviously a baseline.

One of the guards made a note. “We’ve been asked to take all outside food and beverages, Mr. Palladian.”

“I’m going by Bacchus these days.” Bacchus shrugged. “Keep the bottle. I’ll get more.”

As one attendant quietly disposed of the bottle, Bacchus turned to the other and said, “Now did I hear there was going to be an open bar?”

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Noir leaned back in her chair, reading the messages on the OpNet, the text on the screen reflecting in her glasses as she pondered. She had been gone for quite some time to most any who knew her, spending her time researching, philosophizing and learning, expanding her knowledge of several subjects and in turn helping others do the same with some of her unique insights.

Even before her pseudo-walkabout, she had avoided the public eye and certainly any large nova function. Certainly any such gatherings would be.. observed.. by various parties, far beyond the mere media. She could never bring herself to attend them tough, something always ate her, stopping her from going, warning her that it would be a bad mistake to expose herself in such a way. She had let her.. fears?... dictate too much of her life to her, and now it was time to take change again. To assert herself and to make some changes.

“I suppose this party is as good a place as any to make a appearance.” Noir mused aloud to herself as she shrugged and rose from her seat, pushing the chair aside and meandering over to her makeshift wardrobe. She picked through the clothing, quite an assortment indeed, far more than the typical Eufiber-wearing nova would need. Eufiber was just another entry on the long list of things that could die in her presence, so for her, clothing was essential.

After finally selecting several articles she made her way to the bathroom to shower and change. After finally getting dressed and ready for the party, she walked over to the metal sculptures she had been working on, looking them over as if telling an old friend she would soon return. It was surreal in a way… Noir, dressed like some 1940’s starlet in deep red, looking so beautiful and yet standing there amidst the twisted, rusted metal sculptures and aged machines, the floor covered in ears of dust and a veritable sea of metal shavings that sparkled around her in the shafts of light that made their way through the holes in the roof.

As she stood there, something that could only be described as fear welled up within her. She wasn’t sure though if it was fear she was making a mistake or simply of such a wildly variable unknown she was walking into or any number of other things. She summoned her strength and pushed it down, like she had pushed so many other things and focused once more on Chicago.

Hmm… maybe a nice car would be in line with things.. she quietly mused…

Originally Posted By: Revenant
Within a minute Revenant stood outside the side entrance of Club Babylon. A mesmerizing red 1947 Cadillac 61 Series sat there in all its classic glory. Warren stood for a moment, absolutely impressed. The tinted windows prevented him from seeing the occupant but given the vehicles majesty he didn't think it mattered. He looked at the valet for a moment, who just looked back and offered a confused shrug.,,

A slender foot slowly appeared from the darkness of the cars rear cabin, followed by a shapely leg and a deep red skirt until Noir finally exited the rear of the classic car with a casual grace possessed only by novas. She shrugged her shoulders slightly, adjusting her wrap a bit before she walked towards the door, her eyes scanning the area with such as casualness as to be imperceptible to all those but the most highly trained. She drew near the door, the lights glinting off her glasses as they rested low on her nose while a soft smile played across her lips. She certainly was not the typical mind boggling beauty of her ‘race’, but there certainly was something about her in the way she walked and move.. spoke and looked that gave an sexy, alluring aura what was palpable.

“Good evening… Revenant.” Noir spoke in her light British accent, giving him a small nod and coy smile.


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Woah... hello beautiful. He thought as he caough fist glance of her graceful, sexy figure.

"Uhh... heh... yeah. Uhh, go-good evening to you as well, Mrs...?"

Get it together Warren. Every time you see a beautiful woman, just remember, somebody got tired of her.

He extended his hand out to her, offering his assistance over the slightly elevated frame of the portal that led into Club Babylon.

"I, don't believe we've met."

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She could have drawn knife and cut his heart out and Tessio would have died happy. Hold back Pax, Mal, or Procyon for just a few moments ... no problem. Tessio would have done so gladly.

The moment passed. She had guests to entertain and he was in the way of the greeting line. Still, Tessio edged away slowly, waiting until another secuity type had moved up to be close to her before fulling going inside.

'Find Revenant,' he thought. Tessio had a tiny bit of business to conclude with him before he got down to sitting around uncomfortably in the place that Velvet most likely called Home in her Heart. Unsure were to go and unwilling to stop someone for a stylus-chat, Tessio kept his eyes and ears open for Revenant's voice and hoped to avoid any unfortunate complications.

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In the center of the walkway in front of Club Babylon, a single figure appeared from out of nowhere, having teleported directly from Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.

She stood 6'2" tall in her 4" heels, and aside from her brown eyes, she appeared to be made completely of seamless and smooth silver-grey metal. Even her stiletto heels appeared to be part of her shape, and not worn as shoes are. Unusually, she blinked in and out of complete invisibility in a random pattern, the same way an old flourestent light bulb randomly flickers on and off.

Nova "Flicker" Madigan had arrived.

Ignoring the suddent strobing of camera flashes, only a portion of which would actually succeed in capturing her image, she strolled into the club's foyer on 4" metallic heels which appeared to be a part of the soles of her feet.

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Noir smiled and placed her hand in his, allowing Revenant to help her through the doorway as she spoke.

“Oh, we’ve met. Though never in person, I suppose. Just call me.. Noir.” She clarified for him, her smile growing ever so slightly, giving him a glance over the tops of her glasses to gauge his reaction.

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Revenant guids Noir through the door, making sure her lovely gown does not get caught or frayed. "You.. you're Noir?". His words were stumbling out, making him sound like more and more of an imbicile with each passing moment.

Then he drove the spike home.

He followed behind her, lost in the crimson waves of how her gown was hugging her. "Uhh, whatever I said, and I'm sure it wasn't nice... is now an okay time to take it back?"

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Seated at the bar, Flea sipped an astonishing single-malt whiskey which the bartender had recommended. It went down smoothly, with an oaken breath that tickled his sinuses in a delightful way.

He took another long and grateful pull on the wonderful beverage as a glint of light from the foyer caught the corner of his eye. He swivelled to see who it was, and through a momentary gap in the crowd, saw Flicker standing there, gleaming in the dimmed lights like a chromed mannequin.

Flea nearly spit a monthful of his drink, but caught himself at the last moment. With a fit of coughing, he set his glass on the bar and covered his mouth with his hands.

Holy crap, who is that? he thought, his eyes wide.

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Noir raised a eyebrow slightly, her head tilting a little and smile turning slightly lopsided.

“Oh? Why the sudden change of heart?” Noir asked with a near chuckle as she looked at Revenant for a moment before she reached into her purse and removed a small case which opened to reveal several cigarillos. She removed one and pressed it between her tender lips, holding it there as she reached for her lighter.

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