[Fiction] Babylon Reborn: Arrivals

[Machina]

I laugh so hard I almost drop my smoke. Goddamn, but she's cute. Way to lighten the mood, girl. I grin toothily over at her. Feigning exasperation, I squint hard, rubbing the bridge of my nose between my eyes. "Twisted Sister, Iron Maiden, Quiet Riot, Def Leppard, sweetheart. And judging by the look of this place, I'm actually hoping to find something even older" I chuckle ominously. "You know. Ella. Sinatra. Classy stuff, to match the classy lady on my arm. You don't want to be rave dancing in a dress like that, not'nless you plan on leaving nothin' to the imagination at all." I wink at her and unashamedly spill over her body with my eyes, letting her know how badly I'd like to get a glimps under there, myself.

I take her by the hand and spot the staricase. "C'mon, doll, let's get some drinks."

[Erin 'Stellar' Donovan]

Stellar chuckles, know full well how she mixed the names.

“This is one of them fancy Swiss Army Dresses. It’s about the only thing I wear anymore for fear of burning regular clothing off my body.” she chuckles out to Machina as he takes her hand.

“A drink or two.. dozen.. and some dancing does sound good though. Lead the way.”

[App 3, M-App 2, 6 successes on style, Cha 3, M-Char 1, Almost Live, Awe Inspiring, Soothe all active.]

[Sam 'The Crusader' Hill]

The figure flew in from the central city, a blue cape streaming behind it like a flag, one hand thrust forward in a fist, a smile on its chiseled face that threatened to blind oncoming aircraft. Sweeping in low, The Crusader alighted upon the street like a god stepping down from Olympus… and was nearly run down for his troubles.

Completely oblivious of the near impact with the honking sedan, he waived a friendly hand at the honking driver. “It’s always so nice of the fine citizens of this bustling metropolis to take the time to honk their horns to me,” he said in a deep baritone that could melt iron, and well within earshot of the press corps that was encamped in front of the Club Babylon.

With an inhuman grace, the smiling Knight strode into the crowd, making it almost three feet before stopping to sign an autograph. Some twenty minutes later, the valiant hero finally stepped through the front doors… short his wrist watch and wallet, and having signed several hundred autographs, at least two court summons, and a waiver in a paternity suit in the twenty or so intervening paces. “Ah, the joy of shaking hands and rubbing elbows with an adoring public,” he said, none the wiser to the immediate or eventual losses he had just incurred.

Once inside the foyer, an employee approached the blond Adonis. “Um, this is a nova-only function. It’s just a formality, but would you mind if we confirmed that….”

“No need for that, citizen!” His magnificent voice belted out, easily overwhelming conversation in the main room. Brilliant pearly whites glistened in the club lighting, and deep blue eyes were as beautiful as they were empty of anything resembling intellect. Heads turned, and groans were heard, as he said, “Just doing your job, I know, but there can be no doubt that I am…” - striking a heroic pose more dated than a 1952 calendar - “…The Crusader!”

[Warren Verona]

Quote:

"Me? I'm no one," I start. I put my hands up passively but I can feel them start to shake again so I quickly cross my arms, hoping corpsy doesn't notice. "I'm just here to party like everyone else. I bumped into sparky here by accident and he spazzed. I ain't done nothing wrong."

I take a half step back but really there's nowhere to run. If he doesn't buy it I'm fucked.

The idiot was as subtle as a bull in a china shop. Revenant cocked a single eye brow and replaied calmly. "Bullshit." As he spoke the words his voice sounded with the shrill whipers of a thousand long dead souls.

Revenant's arm reached out and grabbed him by the collar. "Come on. We're going for a walk."

"I want to press char-" The poser started, but Revenant's icy gaze warned him not to finish his sentence.

Revenant walked him to the back enterance, a slim hallway far away from the comotion of the party in progress. "Alright buddy, look." Revenant started. "That guy was a dick, but still, I can't have ya going around pickin pockets. I gave you the chance to tell me the truth, you lied. You got caught, bad move." He paused for a moment, as his voice settled the cries of agony from the souls that dwelled within him settled as well.

He remembered a guy, about a year ago. Kinda looked and smelled just like this guy. He remembered himself, broken, desitute, confused and unsure. He remembered the moster he had become, and the man he now hoped to be. "Alright... here's the deal. Normally just for lying to me, I'd crush you into powder, but tonight is special. Ask anyone... I'm nothing if not merciful." He ear to ear grin informed Lost Angel that it was Revenant now spewing the bullshit. "So, I'm not gonna kill you. But I can't have you here messin up Babylon." He reached into his pocket and pulled out some folded bills. "Here. Three hundred bucks. Not a bad score for getting caught. Get a bite and get cleaned up."

With an ease of motion the Angel of Death pushed open the rear enterance of Babylon, informing his listener that it was time for him to leave.

[z-Sean McCline]

Sean landed on the red carpet, a vision in white silk and Italian wool. His white shirt was buttoned almost to the top, leaving the last button open casually. His pants and jacket were a light black color that didn't completely wash out his Irish complexsion.

Flash bulbs snapped and Sean casually waved to the reporters. He ignored the shouted questions, including the queries of what was under his arm. As if they couldn't guess that it was housewarming- er, clubwarming gift. You didn't need nova-level intelligence to figure that.

At the door, he flashed his ID at the guy watching the door, and was waved through after a quick glance at his birthdate. Stepping in, he went straight to the bar and set his package on the counter next to several others. Sean didn't hover next to it; he didn't need to be there when she opened it. He was sure that she could figure out what to do with the bread and oil set. It had been designed by a nova artist, and Sean was pretty sure that no one else would have thought of anything like that. He'd even added a few spices for her, and selected an olive oil that the artist had personally recommended.

That done, Sean began to wander through the club, getting to know the place. He'd find a place to settle down, after he'd talked to some people.