World of Darkness World of Darkness: Attrition - Pre-Season Party (Completed)

[Lavinia Foscari]

Anita watched Antoine gaining more distance from that woman and smiled once she gave up and retreated. She obviously had something to hide from the cops. Some hard drugs for sure.

Dad is going to kill me if I get trouble with the police. I should tell Antoine that I’ll take responsibility for calling the cops.

She walked over to Antoine after the rush of adrenaline had ebbed away. Her cheeks were still hot and red from the excitement and her voice was still slightly trembling.

“I’m going to talk to the cops and tell them I called them. If you want I make something up, but that tramp was on drugs. You probably owe me a favour and I don’t want to bust your party...”, she looked up to him and was suddenly at a loss of words. She really cared for him and was glad that he wasn’t harmed by that crazy woman. Then she shook her head dropping her smile. “I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have come here in the first place. I leave once I talked to the cops.”

[William Rose]

Antoine sighed, Yeah, just the woman I want to see right fucking now.... "Look I don't care, just ... whatever ..." He trailed off not sure if he should be right fucking pissed or not. Amber was either on something or just plain crazy, but dangerous as she had appeared to be she was more than willing for some sex. Antoine had little time to think further, as a police siren burst to life and came down the block stopping in front of the house. ... and there goes that. Antoine heaved himself up out of the lawn chair, the can of Coke dropped to the ground and burst open spraying cold sticky soda straight up Antoine's shorts. God's laughing at me, this whole night has been some sort of cosmic practical joke on me.

[SalmonMax]

Scanning the crowd, Ariel realized that there was a wolf in sheep's clothing. Full grown guy standing among the college kiddies. Maybe a professor in an informal moment, or a...well, not a chaparone obviously. Alumni probably.

Still, better odds than trying to chase down a kid. The ones sober enough to be coherent were magically disappearing in the glare off her badge.

So she went up to Declan, already feeling tired from the constant, weird jangling of her nerves. "Excuse me, sir? We got a call from a scared young lady who said someone threatened her and punched a hole in the wall. Did you see who that was? Maybe heard a disturbance?"

Ariel frowned, distracted for a second. That electric smell was actually stronger here. Was it coming from the cooler behind this guy? She almost thought it was coming from him, in fact. Which made no sense at all. In her momentary concentration on the scent, she wasn't aware of sniffing rather ostentatiously as she looked around.

Meanwhile...

Officer Filks, Doug to his friends, had gotten a somewhat better description of Antoine from the somewhat more sober kids in the house as he had them turn the music down. It helped that he assured them Antoine wasn't in trouble. Ariel often forgot that part.

As he went back out front, there was no mistaking who they meant. Biggest guy there right now. Doug walked up behind Antoine, meaning to say something before he got too close...but his eye was caught by the gorgeous young thing he was talking to.

Good lord they grow them pretty down here, he thought...and then realized he was right behind the big guy. Oh well.

"Excuse me," he said formally, "Are you Antoine? The organizer for this party?"

[Owns-The-Night]

Declan's nostrils suddenly flared a little, as too late he was aware of a scent other than that of the enticing young woman whose hair he was currently imagining running his hands through. His gaze snapped round and speared into the eyes of the woman that had approached him.

There was an unfortunate factor to this meeting. Namely that Declan was feeling his inner Wolf a little more keenly than he usually allowed. The same primordial confidence that was carrying him through his courtship was also tied in to a bunch of other instincts and drives, not all of which were appropriate for civilised situations: like talking to cops.

To make matters worse, he could clearly scent that her Wolf was still nascent. That explained the soft whining sound on the edge of his hearing that he knew was caused by spirits clamoring on the other side of the boundary.

Dammit!

There was a clear policy to follow on these matters, as he had been told by his first teachers. The Bite had to be put on this cute little lady cop so that he, Declan, could track her and stop her falling into the wrong hands, or worse yet, fucking up the fiction that werewolves didn't exist.

But biting her here and now would fuck that up even worse. Not to mention freaking out the girl that was just starting to warm up to him. Grrrrr.... Cock-blocked by a damned cub!

But what to do? He couldn't bite her here... He considered doing a runner to try and get her to chase him away from the crowd. He thought about that for a long moment, but finally hit on a better solution as he reined the Wolf in.

"Hi, officer. Name's Declan Perault; I'm the groundskeeper for the campus." He nodded in greeting as he relaxed his posture a little more, pretending to think. "No, I didn't hear or see anything."

"Someone punched a hole in a wall, though?" He shook his head, though he had a pretty good idea who that might have been, and why. "Hmm, sounds like some of the kids got a little wild. Tell you what I can do: I can ask around a little. Rumors have a tendency of spreading around the campus. Something like this? Someone's going to brag about it. Kids are kids, after all. If I hear anything I can give you a call, Officer...?" He left the question hanging.

[SalmonMax]

Declan Perault. Where did I hear that...?

Ariel fished a card out of her pocket and handed it to the big guy. Even for her, he looked intimidating. Those weird eyes. A definite sense that he was not 'tame,' so to speak. Then it hit her. Groundskeeper!

"McKenzie," she said. "Ariel. You're that guy who beat the living shit out of Leroy Jones, right? Drug pusher."

[Owns-The-Night]

Declan grinned tightly at Ariel's question. He was famous. In a manner of speaking, anyway. He nodded by way of reply.

"He was armed. It was self defense." He shrugged his broad shoulders, trying not to let his grin widen. That had felt good, despite leading to official trouble. That had been close to the full moon, and Declan had been holding a fair bit of aggression in until that stupid pusher had decided to try and bully him.

The UCLA heads had secretly liked that such an object lesson had been handed out to that punk and others like him. Offically, he had been suspended for the investigation and given a formal warning. Unofficially, he had been told by his boss's boss that he had the job for damned-near life.

"I might have gone a little overboard, I suppose. But..." he spread his hands in a helpless gesture. "Man carries a gun around like it's a warrant to do whatever they like? Sooner or later he'll run into a wall."

He slipped the card into his pocket as he spoke, glancing at Morgan to make sure she wasn't too freaked out by this conversation.

[SalmonMax]

"Yeah, well...in the future you should probably leave that sort of thing to the police," Ariel said, though her tone was light, and the half-smile playing around her lips suggested she didn't really mind what he'd done that much.

"Or you could sign up," she adds. "You look like you'd through the physical exam alright."

I hope that isn't flirting I hear, McKenzie, the voice of the Captain in her head was almost loud enough to make her check the others around to see if they reacted. Almost. Even so, her cheeks pinkened a bit. This Declan guy wasn't really her type, but her moods had been all over the place, all day. Now she was feeling...lonely, for want of a polite term.

"Anyway, yeah. Probably nothing, but if you see anything else going on on campus, give dispatch a call," she quickly filled in. "Before you put yourself in danger again. As for this...probably nothing, but don't let that stop you from calling."

She nodded, then glanced at the girl he'd been talking to.

Oh. Right.

"So. I'll...enjoy the rest of the party."

Feeling like a buffoon, Ariel headed back through the house to meet Doug.

[William Rose]

Originally Posted By: SalmonMax

"Excuse me," he said formally, "Are you Antoine? The organizer for this party?"

Antoine damn near jumped out of his skin. "What! What the fuck now?!" Antoine turned round and saw the cop standing there. Aww crap. "Uhhh, I mean yeah, I'm Antoine. Sorry, it's been a weird evening. And no I'm not in charge here." Antoine felt his cheeks heat and was glad for his dark complexion and the poor lighting. This just isn't funny any more, or fair, Crazy fucking Perault is doing better tonight than I am. Whatthefuck?

[SalmonMax]

Doug had no idea what drew his attention down. It was just a sort of...glance, just sizing this Antoine up, since he seemed so unstable.

And right in his lap was a big dark stain.

There were days Doug thought he should have been an actor. Inside he was screaming with laughter. Outside, he managed to keep a professional demeanor.

"My partner and I got a call from a woman who was being threatened. Did you notice a disturbance, or know who the call was from? Also, there was a complaint about noise, so I'll have to ask you to keep the music down...are you all right?"

[Lavinia Foscari]

Anita was still within earshot when she heard the police officer asking Antoine if he was responsible for what happened. Waving half to the Cop she tried to get his attention. "That'll be me, Sir. I called 911."

She walked over to the officer looking down at herself to check if she was making a good impression and her clothes were still perfectly fitting. It was a habit that had come with the cheerleading and modelling, almost like a ritual to calm herself down.

[Emma L. Carter]

Emma had spent the day looking for her cousin in this place she often considered a ridiculous excuse for a mating ground. People were trying to pair up with uses of alcohol and, given the recent commotion with the cops, drugs. It hadn't been long before she gave up on looking for her cousin, though. She tried to find her room mate so they could leave but she was nowhere to be found. She was miserable and plainly looked it. No one was even attempting to talk to her anymore. But as a plus, she temporarily forgot about her real problems.

Having not seen her cousin in years, and this cousin being one of the few who didn't come to her failed party a year ago, she'd almost forgotten what he looked like. They'd spent a decent amount of time together as kids but as time went on they and their families grew apart. So when she saw him at the party, she had to stare at him for a time to realize it was him. She approached him from behind. "Graham? Is that you?" She almost had a smile on her face.

[William Rose]

Antoine saw the cops eyes stutter for a second and so he looked down at himself. Mother of ... Antoine suddenly felt like crawling into a hole and burying himself. At least he's not laughing. Antoine sighed, "Like I said, it's not my party man, talk to the frat guys, its their place and their deal." Antoine shook his head as Anita headed back over, "Unless you need me I'd like to get going... this night has sucked more than enough already."

[Graham Johnson]

Graham's attention was diverted from the lady cop by the approach of a beautiful looking goth girl. He smiles to himself, and begins to turn around to face her, when he hears her speak his name. He raises an eyebrow and nods, "Yes, I'm Graham. Can I help-" He stops suddenly when he completes his turn in front of her. "Excuse me, but you look familiar. Do I know you? You look like... Emma, is that you?" He smiles hopefully.

[Emma L. Carter]

Emma was amused that he seemed so happy to see her. She wondered if he had as shitty of a time as she did. She held out her fragile hand to shake. "Its been years, Graham. So, uh, what? Were you too good to come to the party my parents threw for the unwitting me?" Her eyes were diverted to the scene with the cops and everything that had been happening that she was trying to ignore, than back at Graham.

[Astra D.]

There was an old owl, who lived in an oak...

As the pretty policewoman approached, Morgan instinctively straightened, her expression a curious mixture of cultivated boredom and youthful rebellion. The cop seemed more interested in Perault, thankfully, which gave Morgan an opportunity to just observe for a bit.

What she observed, standing there quietly and listening to their exchange, was possibly one of the most subtly awkward social interactions she'd ever seen. The words were more or less spoken at the correct times, and in the expected order, but there seemed to be a subtext she wasn't grasping, something that made Declan's eerie silver eyes glance furtively from the police officer to her, that made the cute cop look uncomfortable and uncertain- despite the fact that she was the one with the gun and the badge. That she apparently smelled something strange wasn't surprising; this was a college party, after all. No, the odd thing was that she looked... confused.

And the way she left was curious, as well, Morgan decided. She wasn't sure if that was flirting or not, but she did get the feeling there was unfinished business.

When she had gone, Morgan finally spoke up. She was careful to keep her voice light, but something of her curiosity bled through into her tone. She blinked slowly, and then seemed to trace an invisible line with her gaze, one that stretched between the groundskeeper and the policewoman.

Huh. Well, I'll be damned.

"Do you believe in Fate, Declan?" the sophomore asked thoughtfully, looking not at him but at the retreating form of the departing officer. "And, don't worry, that's not intended to be a particularly clumsy come-on," she added with a slightly rueful grin.

[Adrian Moss]

... a bit of time after the police leave ...

He hungered still. It was the vicious cylce of burning his vital essence to appear human in order to catch his prey in his nets and thus get more of that vital blood. He also had to confront that other vampire and gain some understanding from her, if possilbe. It was a conversation he didn't want to go into with any distractions - not unless he wanted to end up jumping over the fence or worse.

For five minutes every target he sighted was stolen away by some other male wanting nothing more than some rough sexual concourse. He wasn't angry. This was the price of operating in such a rich hunting ground.

Hunting grounds ... targets ... vital essance ... all these terms he used to hide the fact that he was preying upon humans. He had once been human and a piece of him still remembered that violent, desperate life. Sex was not great when he had been alive, and it was even less fullfilling now. It was more like getting on an excercise bike than something he wanted to do. It had been replaced by the Hunger.

Had the Hunger replaced every aspect of his life and violated the human to the nether-reaches of his mind. The thread of that thought made him wondering about connecting with another human. Maybe he could steal through contact what he could not feel himself. Maybe he would discover he was more human than he imagined.

He saw her sitting alone with an aura of an unsettled mind about her. She wasn't looking for any man to comfort her and she had already shot down several who tried. He knew he couldn't ask the same old questions he always used and often succeeded with. Adrian had to push himself.

"Hey, I'm Adrian."

She looked at him then looked away wordlessly.

"I noticed ... why are you alone. There has to be something to that. We can talk about it," he offered.

Adrian sat down.

Nothing.

"You can talk to me," he said with as much an empathic tone as he could manage.

Why was he going throug so much effort for this girl. There was something about her.

Code:

 Spent 1 Willpower to gain three dice on an Empathy roll. 

[Vivi OOC]

Originally Posted By: Adrian's Empathy Roll

(16:23:40) ChatBot: (Adrian) rolls 3d10 and gets 5,8,5.

The overstuffed couch, only recently vacated by a group of no less than three giggling co-eds, was currently occupied by a petite young woman with shocking blue braids woven into her short, dark hair. Her tank top was of a similar hue, while her shorts (such as they were) were a deep, metallic shade of violet. Tall boots with oversized buckles covered her slim legs to the knee, and even as Adrian sat down, Reva was occupying herself by flicking one of the straps back and forth.

Though awkward, even clumsy, his insistence on getting her to talk seemed sincere. She rolled her eyes, but inwardly conceded that it was almost cute, as if he didn't know what to say to her. He looked relatively young, too, and not entirely comfortable in his own skin... Something she could relate to.

With a dramatic sigh, she finally lifted her head.

"Look. I'm not going home with you, so if that's what you're after, you might as well push off. I'm just waiting for my friend so we can leave, all right?"

There was a clear challenge in the angle of her chin, the arched eyebrow; she fully expected him to concede that's what he wanted and leave.

[Adrian Moss]

Adrian shrugged.

"I came here alone and I'll probably go home alone. Pretty much what I've expected all night long."

He looks around at all the people having so much drunken fun. She wasn't a part of this. He wasn't either, but most likely for different reasons.

"I came here to relax and, I guess, take in the experience."

He paused going over his words with some care.

"Tell you what, I promise I'm not going to try and get into your pants if you promise not to boot me off this sofa and make me pretend I find whatever the hell they are talking about ... for say ten minutes."

"So what's got your friend so occupied they've left you alone. You seem kind of, well, unhappy."

[Vivi OOC]

With a shrug of her own, Reva shifted slightly on the couch to give him more space.

"Ten minutes, then." Something like a smile, though not quite fully recognizable as such, crossed her purple lips. "And my friend," she continued a bit more emphatically, "didn't leave me alone. I came inside because..." She hesitated for a moment. "I wasn't feeling well. Too much beer, not enough barbecue, y'know?"

Again, she shrugged.

"I'm not unhappy," the Afro-Asian girl stated simply. "I just feel like shit. Anyway, who's going to party with the cops here?"

[SalmonMax]

Originally Posted By: Ashe

Anita was still within earshot when she heard the police officer asking Antoine if he was responsible for what happened. Waving half to the Cop she tried to get his attention. "That'll be me, Sir. I called 911."

She walked over to the officer looking down at herself to check if she was making a good impression and her clothes were still perfectly fitting. It was a habit that had come with the cheerleading and modelling, almost like a ritual to calm herself down.

Doug stared a moment, then fumbled a notepad from his pocket. "All right, why don't you tell me what happened?"

At Antoine's protestation, he nodded absently and said, "Just tell them to keep it down and..." he stopped as Ariel came out of the house and stomped over.

"Oh good, you found him," she said on seeing Antoine.

"Uh, yes. And this young lady is the one who called," Doug replied.

Ari gave Anita a quick clinical once over and nodded. Noticing the pad, she said, "Okay, you take the statement, I'll get the paperwork."

As she headed to the car to get a clipboard with a standard police report form on it, she heard Doug talking. "Antoine, if you want to take off, that's fine. Now, as for you, let me just get your name, then tell me what happened all right?"

That's what I want to know. Felt like my first night again back there. Christ.

Ariel carried the clipboard back to Anita.

[Adrian Moss]

Adrian arched an eyebrow,

"The cops. I missed their arrival. What happened? I was here earlier, but had to leave. Ummm ... I had a wardrobe malfunction. Had to go and change."

He gives a slight tilt to his head,

"I'm Adrian," then offers her a stick of gum.

"It's mint. I find it cuts through the beer aftertaste. If you aren't feeling well, it might help."

He smiles at her.

"Usually you tell me your name, I say its pretty and you don't believe me. Isn't that how it's supposed to go?"

"Next comes an attempt to talk about College, in which neither of us will find the other's major to be of much interest, unless you are into forensics."

"Well, I'm done. What do you got?"

[Vivi OOC]

"A wardrobe malfunction." She either ignored the remainder of the sentence, or it just wasn't as entertaining as the choice of words he'd used. Judging by the arched eyebrow and the quirk of her lips, Adrian had to guess it was probably the latter.

Man, this white boy was really white.

Wardrobe malfunction. What, he's Janet Jackson all of a sudden? Slipped a nipple, or something?

In spite of herself, she had to grin at the internal joke, and shook her head as she chewed idly on the gum he'd offered.

"Nah. I really don't want to talk about all that, anyway" she replied, waving one hand in a vaguely dismissive gesture, her fingers fluttering expressively. "After that, we talk about the bands we like, or don't, but... You don't look like you'd be into the same music I am." Her expression was somewhat dubious as she eyed the young man who looked rather like an especially clean-cut extra from a modern retelling of Grease.

"So, you're into forensics," she continued instead. "That's cool. Friend of mine works down at the morgue at UCLA Medical. Forensic Pathology... That's his specialty. You know many of the guys down there?"

[Owns-The-Night]

Declan watched Ariel go for a long moment, memorising her scent and movements, before turning back to Morgan. He noticed the look in her eye and mentally cursed: the girl had picked up on the oddness in that exchange. But the next question was not what he had expected.

Originally Posted By: M. Westbrook

"Do you believe in Fate, Declan?" the sophomore asked thoughtfully, looking not at him but at the retreating form of the departing officer. "And, don't worry, that's not intended to be a particularly clumsy come-on," she added with a slightly rueful grin.

Okay, that was not a normal question. He tilted his head as he looked at her, his silver eyes narrowing as he considered both the question and the young woman asking it. It was a serious question, he decided after a moment. He didn't know why, but he felt that she deserved a serious answer.

"I think that we all have a Fate, sure. I think that some parts of it are decided for us before we're even born. Like bein' tall, or bein' beautiful." He said this last with a slight smile and a tilt of his head towards her, a gesture of playful flirtation amidst the serious thoughts currently bubbling up in his mind. "Other stuff we have a hand in. Turnin' left, turnin' right. Swearin' off booze, or gettin' hooked on drugs. It's like a poker game to my mind. You can't do anythin' about the hand you're dealt at the start, but how you play the game from there on in is your own affair." His eyes went distant for a brief couple of heartbeats as he thought about what he'd said.

I couldn't do anything about being born Uratha. I can't help that Ariel McKenzie is Uratha either, and will need me to bite her so that I can keep an eye on her. Nor can she. What we can do is play that hand to win. A second epiphany for the werewolf in one night, and both caused by this girl. He focused his gaze back on her and smiled, a quirky curving-up of one corner of his lips.

"Y'know, you're good for my brain Morgan." He grinned, a trifle wolfishly (that couldn't be helped really), but nonetheless charming. "I've had two deep thoughts since I've been here talkin' to you, and that's more than in the last 6 months."

[Adrian Moss]

"The morgue, nope. I don't know anyone down there yet. One day I may though. I ... nevermind," he says glumly.

He cheers up a abit, continuing,

"Actually, I have no taste in music. Growing up, I was always listening to whatever the foster parents listened to. I usually hated them so I learned to just phase their music out and not listen. I've never really thought about music much. I just went around with whatever my so called friends wanted to hear. I've never had a real interest in it."

"You like music?"

[Vivi OOC]

"How can you not have an interest in music?!" Reva asked, clearly incredulous as she turned to face him, swiveling bodily on the couch cushion. "It's... an outlet, an inspiration, a way to identify what you feel and get it out, to communicate it to other people. It's like... Like life, like breathing. Like putting a little piece of your soul into something so that everyone who hears it can feel that sadness, that joy, that sense of anger or helplessness or..." She waved her hands, frowning. "Or anything!"

The look in her eyes was very close to pity as she looked at him, slowly shaking her head.

"Man, I can't imagine that. Not loving music? My friends and I... There are memories attached to so many songs; hell, some of us even have our own 'theme music,'" she admitted with a chuckle. "You know, you start listening to 'Battle Without Honor or Humanity' while you're standing in the line at the post office, waiting to see if the old woman with the long, skinny package is going to whip a katana out, or the guy behind the counter will pull out a crossbow, or-"

She stops, mid-rant, looking slightly abashed and grinning at her own enthusiasm.

"You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?"

[Adrian Moss]

"I think you love music, in better way than loving your car - if its nice - or some other solid yet aging piece of material. Just by looking like it I ... I can tell if I you had a choice between air and music, you would take a second ... and then chose music."

"I think that's living. I live but not like that. I'm jealous."

Adrian looks over in the direction the music is coming from.

"Why don't you play me this Battle Without Honor or Humanity? We can even try to dance to it while everyone else watches."

Adrian stands up and offers this strange mixed-heritage lady his hand.

"I dare you, if that helps," he says with a toothy grin.

[Astra D.]

"Well, then," she grinned impishly up at him, finally tearing her gaze away as Officer McKenzie vanished amid the shifting clusters of people. "I'll take that as a compliment."

She was quiet for several moments, the smile that lingered on her lips slowly fading from her eyes as she watched him. Those same eyes roved over the planes of his face, studying his nose, the shape of his eyes, and even the faint curve of his mouth with the intensity of an artist committing those features to memory.

She noticed, too, the subtle tilt of his head when he was listening, the way he somehow remained perfectly still unless there was a purpose to his movements... There was no fidgeting, no extraneous motion or wasted energy, even while she was obviously studying him. If anything, he seemed to be assessing her just as thoroughly. When he smiled-

She remembered, suddenly, the look on his face earlier in the evening when Lucien Hunt had accidentally called him 'Crazy Perault.' An involuntary shiver rippled up her spine as she recalled the grim set of his eyes, the flash of silver in their depths, and so, so many teeth, all so very white.

When she met his eyes again, a little of the flirtatiousness was gone, but none of the curiosity, and it was writ plain across her face as she looked up at him.

"You're right, I think, about Fate. Sometimes a person might get drawn into something they never would've chosen for themselves... Maybe even something they hate, but can't change. Later, maybe, they look back and realize it was for a reason, that they had to go through it to get to where they are now." Her voice was quiet, contemplative, and utterly poisonous to lighthearted banter.

Geez, Morgan, get a grip. So he's kind of... feral. What do you expect? He's probably just got pets, since everyone else thinks he's insane. And, for Chrissakes, shut up about Fate! He's going to think you're crazy, or, worse, what if he takes you seriously? Ugh.

With a toss of her head, she shook off such weighty thoughts, offering Declan an apologetic smile.

"Sorry," she murmured, forcing herself to laugh quietly, as if it was a trivial matter. "I have a tendency to over-dramatize, a bit. I guess it's a strange topic of conversation at a party. So..." she continued, mentally searching for something to talk about with this enigmatic man. "Um, what kind of dogs do you have?"

[Owns-The-Night]

Originally Posted By: M. Westbrook

"You're right, I think, about Fate. Sometimes a person might get drawn into something they never would've chosen for themselves... Maybe even something they hate, but can't change. Later, maybe, they look back and realize it was for a reason, that they had to go through it to get to where they are now." Her voice was quiet, contemplative, and utterly poisonous to lighthearted banter.

Sounds like she knows from experience... Declan found himself wondering what could have caused such introspection in the girl. Maybe there was more than spoiled ennui behind the goth look. He re-appraised her yet again as she spoke, this time with a little more fellow-feeling and an understanding nod. That's life sometimes, though. Learning curves can be a real bitch

Originally Posted By: M. Westbrook

"Sorry," she murmured, forcing herself to laugh quietly, as if it was a trivial matter. "I have a tendency to over-dramatize, a bit. I guess it's a strange topic of conversation at a party. So..." she continued, mentally searching for something to talk about with this enigmatic man. "Um, what kind of dogs do you have?"

"Dogs?" The sudden switch from deep conversation to small talk threw the large man for a moment, and he blinked as his mind changed gears. Why did she pull back there? If she's that bothered by it, why did she bring it up? Hmm... Bet she's embarrassed or worried about being 'uncool'. She's a smart kid; still a bit of a kid though. Well... He still looked a little puzzled as he answered her.

"Um, I don't have dogs. Don't keep any pets really, unless you count the bird table in my yard." He smiled at her then and, just to let her know it was cool, leaned in and said more quietly "But for the record I don't think you were overdramatizin', Morgan. It might not be a normal topic at a party, but most folks have these thoughts in their lives. Some people, the ones who go through some shit, think about it a bit more, that's all."

He held her gaze for a long moment, searching for some sign that she understood, that he hadn't been wrong in sensing that deeper something about her. Maybe there were humans who could understand, who he could relate to. After the moment passed, he spoke again, still in that quiet voice, an oddly gentle timbre to it.

"We can talk about whatever you want to talk about. I just wanted you to know that... that you're cool people in my book." He gave her a wry smile, a little humor dancing in his eye. "And in my book, that makes you one of about 6 names."

[Vivi OOC]

Reva blinked.

"Um, you want to dance to the Kill Bill theme?"

She wasn't sure if he was serious, or just screwing with her, but she took his hand and rose anyway.

"I'm not really in the mood to dance, but if you're serious, there's definitely better songs out there than that one. Unless, of course, you happen to have about a hundred gallons of blood you want to throw around to make it genuine."

Her smile was sincere, even playful, as she did her best to get the odd young man to lighten up.

[Astra D.]

"I..." The pale young woman frowned, for once unsure of how to proceed. "You don't have any dogs? Wow, that's weird. Sorry, I just thought you seemed like someone who spent a lot of time around them. The little head tilt," and here she imitated the movement almost perfectly, "the way the muscles in your shoulders are bunched up, here, and here. Things like that."

Her fingertips tapped his shirt lightly at the points she described. She smiled, the expression reshaping her features with surprising ease, as if she was pleased with herself for noticing such details. "I'm an artist," she said, by way of explanation. "And..." When next she spoke, there was a hint of shyness, of quiet pleasure in her voice. "Thanks. I guess you'd be on my short list, too. I just, you know. Didn't want you to think I was too strange, going on about Destiny and Fate just because life gets a little crazy sometimes."

A little crazy? Oh, man. That's not the half of it, she mused, slowly relaxing back against the tree trunk.

[Owns-The-Night]

The bunched muscles shifted a little under her brief touch, as sensual instinct called for Declan to press against the contact, even as he realised that she was calling him on his 'tells'. The concern was washed away on the revelation of her genuine smile. No worldly crook of the mouth, no amused eyebrow raise. Simple pleasure at her perceptiveness, followed by a shy sweetness that made him feel suddenly protective. He took a moment to gather his wits before speaking again.

"You're an artist?" he smiled at her. "The V.A got me into sketchin': kind of helps me deal with things." He realised how that sounded and gestured reassuringly. "I'm not nuts, in case that's your worry. Just mild PTS and some other side-effects of that crazy life we're talkin' about. But yeah, I like to sit and sketch sometimes."

Side-effects. Yeah, like being a frigging werewolf. It's kinda the trump card of weird lives, isn't it? He was leaning next to her against the tree, watching her as they spoke.

"And there's times when I don't think I'd find anything or anyone too strange." Though he was smiling, there was something semi-serious about the way he said that.

[Graham Johnson]

He chuckles a little bit at the attitude he's receiving from Emma and shakes her hand gently. "Nope. I was busy. I've been working almost non-stop since I graduated from high school... and I think my parents refused for me." He sighs. "Was it really that bad?"

Graham just shakes his head, "So, what brings you to UCLA, and what have you been doing with yourself?"

He closes his eyes and when he opens them again, he sees the world in a different way, his vision filled with the resonance of the buildings, people and world around him.

[Astra D.]

Originally Posted By: Declan Perault

"You're an artist?" he smiled at her. "The V.A got me into sketchin': kind of helps me deal with things." He realised how that sounded and gestured reassuringly. "I'm not nuts, in case that's your worry. Just mild PTS and some other side-effects of that crazy life we're talkin' about. But yeah, I like to sit and sketch sometimes."

Companionably, she nodded, catching her lower lip between her teeth and chewing it thoughtfully. He was right. Art really was an outlet, a sort of universal form of communication. She'd always thought so; only now, she had an inkling of just how truly universal it could be. There were certain symbols, some of which were used so casually by designers and artists, that held more depth and meaning than they could possibly have imagined, and Morgan was more than eager to experiment.

She wondered, idly, if the increasingly appealing Mr. Perault would be willing to play model, or if he'd be willing to let her see what he'd drawn. She knew full well how personal such things could be.

Quote:

"And there's times when I don't think I'd find anything or anyone too strange." Though he was smiling, there was something semi-serious about the way he said that.

Now, it was Morgan's turn to wonder at the implications of what he'd said. She searched his eyes, her own narrowing slightly, and as she looked for some inkling of understanding she dimly began to realize that though neither of them had agreed to lead, their conversation held the rhythm and meter of a dance.

One, two-three, one two-three, one, two-three...

She could practically count out the steps in her head, but if they kept this up all night, it was easy to see that one (or both) of them would eventually get impatient, or run out of euphemisms for things neither could easily explain.

"Is that so?" she asked finally, her eyes flicking up to his with a glimmer of challenge in their depths. "Well, then. How about we compare our concepts of strange? And maybe later, if you're good, I'll let you pose for me." Her smile widened slightly, playfully, and the angle of her head allowed her to glance up at him through the veil of her lashes.

Mercurial as she was, by her very nature, it simply didn't occur to her that anyone else would be put-off by such abrupt changes in conversation and demeanor in such a brief span of time. The Acanthus was moved as much by impulse as anything, and tonight was certainly no exception.

[Owns-The-Night]

Again with the sudden shift of pace. This time, though, Declan wasn't thrown so far off-balance. He was starting to read the conversation and it's undercurrents as though reading an opponent's moves in a fight, and this time he merely grinned and settled his shoulder more firmly against the tree as his Rahu spirit rose to the challenge in Morgan's eyes. Pose for you, huh? Hmmm...

"Think you can handle my strangeness?" His tone was half light and flirtatious, half challenge. "And if you can, how can I trust you with it? Us strange types like to keep our secrets out of the wrong hands, y'know." A certain devilment was in his soul right now, plus the need to tell someone, anyone, and not have them go "Yes, I know, I'm a werewolf too."

[Astra D.]

"Mhmm," she nodded, her voice fairly bubbling over with suppressed laughter. "I know exactly what you mean. Once people figure out you've got ultimate cosmic power and potential, they start adding you to all sorts of mailing lists, harassing you to come on their talk shows, trying to schedule extra visits for you at the doctor's office...."

She winked up at him, teasingly, in spite of the underlying sobriety of the subject. There was still some reluctance to completely reveal her hand, and, after all, she was fairly certain that his level of strange was nowhere near her own.

Still... If anyone on campus could grasp even half of what she'd seen, what she knew, she wondered if it might not be a fellow misfit.

All mischief and sultry smiles, she added, "And I promise. These hands are definitely a good place for secrets to be."

[Emma L. Carter]

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He chuckled a little bit at the attitude he received from Emma and shook her hand gently. "Nope. I was busy. I've been working almost non-stop since I graduated from high school... and I think my parents refused for me." He sighed. "Was it really that bad?"

Emma seemed to be on the verge of laughter and she felt mildly excited for the first time in a long time. Maybe she did need more socialization.. or maybe it was the reuniting with her cousin. "You have no idea, do you? It was on the list of the top five tragic hours this century, it was that bad. It ended in my incarceration for the next six months.. " She seemed to trail off at the end there, and her demeanor changed entirely. Her expression was fitting to her all-black attire.

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Graham just shook his head "So, what brings you to UCLA, and what have you been doing with yourself?"

"I.. uh. I couldn't be in San Francisco anymore. Everyone always says how they love it here and everyone is so laid back and happy there, but I can't stand it. I think people need to be afraid of their surroundings." With that sentence she realized she had gone to far and said too much. "Anyway, I've just been getting by, one day at a time. Getting ready for school. Yourself?"

[Graham Johnson]

Graham looks at Emma strangely at her fear comment, then sighs at her last question, "I'm enrolled as a part-time student. I figure if I want to own my own construction firm, I need at least a solid grounding in business classes, and preferably a degree. But, other than that, I've been working alot. Getting by as best I can. I have a small place within a few miles of here, but it's just a small bachelor pad. You staying on campus?" He takes a deep breath and stops. Then he takes a sip from his now-warm beer and winces slightly.

"Maybe a fresh start is all you need... but if you need anything else, just ask, okay?"

[Owns-The-Night]

There's more to this one than she's letting on. Not Uratha, for sure, but maybe something else. She's not getting weirded out, and that's fuckin' strange considering her girlfriend couldn't even look me in the eye. To hell with it: if I make a mess of this, I'll clean it up.

"Okay, but not here." He offered her one calloused hand and a wink. "You want to explore the rabbit hole, Alice, then come with me."

After a brief moment, during which Morgan weighed him up and down and chewed a little more on her lip, she laughed and took his hand. "Why not? Lead on, oh ye of the Cheshire grin, lead on."

Leading her by her slim hand in his, Declan slipped through the gate and made his way along the fence to the front of the frat house. With the disappearance of the cops, the Petronian debauchery was in full swing, and the two glided through the crowd and out into the street in a whirl of faces, sounds and scents. Somehow, she managed to tap out a quick text message on her cell phone before snapping it decisively shut again.

Still not speaking, he led Morgan across the road, smiling back at her now and then, his silver eyes shining brightly in the streetlights. She had second thoughts, then third thoughts on top of those, but the fey mood that had prompted her to accept spurred the young woman on as they left the road and traffic behind and plunged into the loosely wooded UCLA campus. Once they had gotten some ways from the road, Declan stopped and cocked his head, listening intently. Morgan took a moment to take stock of her surroundings.

They were in one of the glades formed by the trees, away from the path. The night sky was overhead, still stained by the summer sunset, the faint twinkle of stars visible. Declan released her hand and sighed, smiling as he turned to face her.

"Don't get the wrong idea." He said with a throaty chuckle as he peeled off his t-shirt and tossed it to the grass at her feet. He stretched his arms out and up, as though embracing the sky, and took a deep breath. Morgan could make out a raised dark scar on his solid-looking chest, forming some sort of pattern, and was attempting to decipher it when Declan kicked off his shoes and started to unfasten his jeans.

He grinned and turned away from her, the dim light playing over the muscles in his shoulders and back. Excitement was on him now: he wanted to show her, even if she ran screaming. But he didn't think that would happen here; instinct, his blessing as well as his curse, was taking charge of his decisions.

He kicked off his jeans and stood naked, then turned towards her. He came no closer than 10 feet, but she felt that energy about him, that super-reality that made it so that he seemed to take up more space than he should. Light and shadow played over his naked form as he crouched down on his haunches, looking up at her eyes. When he spoke, it was quiet.

"Don't panic."

And with that, he changed.

It wasn't like the movies. That's one thing she remembered later on. She was surprised at first that there wasn't more screaming, howling and clawing at the grass. In fact, he didn't seem to suffer any pain at all. It was as though his body stretched and relaxed, but in a whole different way. Faint whispering sounds reached her ears as muscle and bone restructured; as dull monkey teeth became gleaming white fangs; as dark brown fur sprouted over bare tanned skin; as a useless stub of a nose became an instrument of incredible sensitivity.

The wolf sat on its haunches, silver eyes gleaming as they caught the light, regarding her with that curious tilt to the head. It was him: without a doubt, she had just seen Crazy Perault turn into a fucking wolf.

[Emma L. Carter]

Emma wondered where her room mate was and exactly how long she was making Emma stay at this party. "Yeah, I am on campus. I'm just a few buildings down from this place so its not very far." She listening to his following statement, and decided that it was his way of saying goodbye. "Yeah, I'll be sure to do that. But I think I'm going to get out of here. I'm honestly not even sure if I'm allowed by law to be at a party where minors are drinking. I'll see you on that site, okay?" She said with a forced smile.

[Graham Johnson]

Graham nods, and smiles, "See you then. Be safe. Oh, here." He hands her a business card with his cell number on it. "Keep in touch." Graham then heads to the punch bowl and pours himself a drink. He keeps watch on his cousin from a distance, making sure nothing bad happens to her, while sipping from his cup. He also tries to look around and find Morgan but she is already gone.