World of Darkness World of Darkness: Attrition - Resurfacing

[Lucien Hunt]

Lucien was a bit surprised when the man came back, thinking that he'd heard his 'crazy' comment and now wanted to 'take it outside', which was not something Lucien was looking forward to at all; he was a lover, not a fighter. He listened to the man explain himself and politely smiled a charming smile that gave away his major as either a business major or some guy planning on going into politics. He looked to his company and winked, not wanting to be rude and turn his back on her.

"Ah, Jeremy. I've heard a lot of you, but I admit to always missing you." He extended a hand, as was only proper. "Think nothing of it, honestly. Stress like our is something that is a constant. I understand how you feel, trust me."

He stepped aside slightly and stretched his arm around Morgan and led her forward a step with a slight tug at the small of her back. To introduce his company properly. "This is the lovely and enchanting Morgan Westbrook. Morgan, Jeremy Noctis, he's been helping Sarah out recently."

[Rorx]

Moss just stares at Dec for a moment, "Well it's been a busy night at least, so party it is."

Turning back to August he looks at her more intently before saying, "You probably think this is a line, but I'm sure I've seen you somewhere before."

[Astra D.]

Although not thrilled at the prospect of having to move her arms from 'round Lucien's neck, Morgan took the hint and conjured up a smile for the newcomer. She wasn't sure, exactly, what sort of "help" this guy had been giving Sarah, but that simple phrase implied a great many things. He hadn't made a stellar first impression, but his return would give her a chance to try to puzzle out where he fit into all of this "bump in the night" business.

"It's nice to meet you," she said graciously, her voice barely audible over the music. The bright green eyes that measured Jeremy held a glimmer of something Other, but there were none of the tell-tale signs that would mark her as one of his own kind.

[Jeremy]

"Yes." Jeremy murmured. His voice did hold a more serious note when hed spoke to Lucien. "I would like in the future, to explain why the... arcade visit is no-win. But right now.." his eyes turned amusingly crafty, "I don't suppose anyone here would want to watch me out drink ten frat boys at once?"

He turned and regarded one such competition already in sight. "You'll be quite entertained, I assure you."

[SalmonMax]

That's about it for the group stuff.

Wasn't that enough?

"Wait," Ariel said, shaking her head and holding up a hand. "Back up a scene. Who took on a bunch of hunters? What hunters? Fuck."

She looked around, all smiles gone now. "All right, no details here. Just tell me, was anyone hurt, and who was in charge."

[Sarah Dead-Wolf]

Sarah's dance died with her own smile, and she stepped in close, voice just loud enough for Ariel to hear.

"A fairy guy - Jeremy - had info on a group hunters. Our little bunch that hit them was Jeremy, Dec, Amber, Moss and me. Dec did the operational planning, I scouted in my falcon form, and then we hit the place."

Her eyes went dark and dropped, and so did her voice. "It didn't go real well. Took out about half of the hunters, and got ourselves scattered in the process. When all was said and done, it was Amber, Jeremy and me still standing in the place, all of us with a lot of bullet holes. Moss and Dec were both hurt bad enough for the flight instinct to kick in."

Sarah gaze shifted back up to meet Ariel's. "We all survived, but it was real close. Some of these guys had milspec weaponry, and we all came close at one point or another to buying it. We got lucky, that's all."

[SalmonMax]

The change in Ariel was profound. She stood stock still while Sarah made her report, then just stood there breathing hard through her nose.

Her skin felt cold and her blood felt hot...the music and the people who had just seconds ago been part of the fun were now intolerable. She wanted to grab the stereo and throw it out the window. She wanted to...there were all kinds of things she wanted to do.

Her grip on Sarah's arm tightened to the point where circulation would have been cut off, had the vampire's blood been flowing.

"This will be discussed," she growled...not metaphorically, either. "Right now, I have to get out of here. Now." The last word was a snarl...and she released Sarah, turned and bolted out of the party, knocking a few carousers aside as she went.

[Sarah Dead-Wolf]

Sarah took a quick look around, then - on the odd chance that he was still listening in - tossed a thought in the direction of Lucien. *I'm gonna follow Ariel. S'ok, just want to make sure she's OK.*.

With no further delay, she made her own purposeful way toward and out the door, quick on Ariel's heels. For those Uratha who might have noticed, there was no mistaking her movements or posture; she was following a superior, possibly an Alpha, and would be guarding Ariel's flank.

[Lucien Hunt]

*Were she 'OK' Sarah, I highly doubt she'd have gotten so irritated and left.* Lucien thought back to her. The prospect of her leaving again didn't sit well with her boyfriend. Sarah's constant need to feel like she was a part of something forever denied to her often left her smack dab in the middle of the drama. Admittedly he wondered if she perpetuated it a bit, just to keep things interesting for herself and the others. *More to the point, if she wanted company, you'd probably not have to be following her. She'd have invited you. She's a big girl, let her handle her own affairs.*

"I'm afraid I'll have to pass on the spectacle of you drinking others into a stupor." He smiled brightly. "Although I do not doubt your proficiency, it's just, I have an emerald eyed Enchantress still yearning for the second half of her dance."

Morgan could see the conversation behind his eyes, something kept the Mastigos distracted just slighty, but Lucien was a well enough actor that his attention seemed rather focused in the moment. "It's been a pleasure to meet you Jeremy, maybe I'll stop by the club sometime and we'll talk."

[Sarah Dead-Wolf]

*This isn't a werewolf thing,* Sarah replied to Lucien's mental missive. *It's a girl thing. It's something girls do for their female friends. It's normal.* The word "normal" wasn't one that came leaping to mind when one thought about Sarah. And how much of what she "said" was sincere - versus how much was to salve Lucien's nerves - was debatable.

In any event, it was remarkable that she'd stayed at the party for as long as she had. The Dead-Wolf was all but renown for a lack of social understanding, and parties that consisted of more than a handful of her close friends were really only one thing for her: a hunting ground. Given that this party was held by a friend of Declan who was traumatized enough for one evening, Sarah had written off nipping a meal from some reveler, and was left in awkward mode until the opportunity finally came to leave in something that would appear to be halfway good graces to the crowd left behind.

[Jeremy]

Jeremy nodded with a smile. He too noticed the slight twitch and other cues that indicated that Hunt was a little elsewhere, but paid it no mind. "If you find yourself intrigued afterward, do come over and watch the spectacle." He assured in a voice that promised it would be as advertised.

"I would advise going to the club just before closing. It's better for getting access to the specialties, and more private for group issues..." Jeremy's tone of voice implied that he was available for help and discussions if need be.

He smiled, waved and set off, finding a drinking contest already in place. He got himself added in, and began swallowing shots. Sometimes, being a changeling, or at least himself, had benefits.

[Lucien Hunt]

*And what level do you hope to reach her one Sarah?* His brow furrowed as negative thoughts spread across his mind. *To understand her feeling Sarah requires some measure of humanity and rapport. One of which you've been trying vehemently to rid yourself of for quite some time.*

The levy cracked and finally gave way. Lucien had tried to hope that something normal could come from this relationship... *'Girl thing'? What about 'girlfriend' thing? You suddenly understand and can comprehend an inkling of empathy for Ariel after she shows some irritation, but you can't be bothered to call me and let me know a party is going on, or even invite me to attend? I fail to see how you can understand them so well that you can spend days upon days with them, but the only time you stop by my place is when you want a buzz.*

Irritation spread over his face and the normally calm and incredible unnerving resolve of Lucien Hunt seemed to fading swiftly, all to a conversation in his head. *Just... go. It's not as if you took the time to consider me before this evening, I see no reason you need to consider anything I say now. I hope Ariel is alright, send her my best.*

[SalmonMax]

Outside, Ariel stumbled across the street and made for the shadows beyond, finally coming to rest against a large hoary-barked tree in someone's yard. The lights were off; they were asleep or not home. It was good enough for her purposes.

For a second she leaned against the tree with her forehead touching it, her mind all but consumed in the whirlwind of wild rage that was the other side of the coin she'd been enjoying up until now. Teeth bared and gritted together, she started venting that anger on the tree, pounding her fists into it with all her strength...trying to blow off the steam before it forced her to change. She couldn't do that, not here, not now.

After the first punch, her hands started to hurt. The pain was welcome. It was something else in her head besides the red mist. She kept punching the old tree, hard enough to shake it a little with each blow, hard enough to grind the skin and muscle of her hands to hamburger against its bark. But she didn't summon any supernatural power. She didn't use Father Wolf's strength to rip the heartwood out, nor change to the War Form and rampage like a creature of legend.

Dimly she became aware that her anger was subsiding to merely human levels. She stopped abusing the tree and herself and just leaned there, panting, as her hands slowly regrew.

Anger at Declan, for doing something at once so audacious, and so idiotic. Anger at the others, ALL the others, for going along with it. Anger at herself for not having been here to stop it. It wasn't FAIR, this anger, and she knew it. She didn't know the whole story yet. She didn't deserve to be held accountable for events she had no knowledge of. It didn't matter though, because the anger didn't care. It was thick and hot and metallic, like coughing up blood, and she knew better than to stand in its way. All she could do was redirect it, and let it spend itself.

Then she'd decide what to do about this mess.

[Sarah Dead-Wolf]

Lucien's mental words hurt. Or rather, they should have hurt, and Sarah knew exactly how they should have impacted her heart. Instead, they hit her in less laudable places: her pride, her envy, her temper. Somewhere, deep within her unbeating heart, a small twinge caught her, but even that was fleeting, more the memory of pain than the real thing.

That memory though was enough to give her a last bit of empathy to send across the thoughtwaves. *Sorry I'm not what you wanted me to be. Sorry I'm not a good girlfriend for you. I'll send your best to Ariel.*

Following the half-moon wasn't exactly hard. Figuring out what to do when she decided to start beating the sap out of a tree wasn't much harder, given the upbringing Sarah had experienced. As she'd done with her cousins back then, she hung back, watching her friend pound bloody knuckles into bark and wood, and simply waited for Ariel to exhaust her anger.

Only then did she dare speak. The tone carried compassion - more than what she'd managed in her mental words to Lucien - and at least a bit of understanding.

"Anything I can do?"

[Lucien Hunt]

Lucien looked to Morgan and shook his head as he rolled his eyes and let out a frustrated sigh.

"Women." Was all he offered as an explanation.

[SalmonMax]

"Done is done," Ariel said, pulling herself away from the tree. "Unless you have some time traveling mojo, there's nothing to do about it now."

She looked over at Sarah and managed a wan, hollow smile.

"Actually, I'm lying. There's something you can do for me. Head on back in there, and have fun at the party. If anyone asks let 'em know I've gone home for the night. I really don't want to bump into Dec or Moss or...anyone really right now. I'll see them tomorrow."

Ariel gave Sarah a wave, then turned to get oriented and find her way back to her car.

[Astra D.]

Morgan wasn't exactly sure what had just happened, but watching Lucien's facial expressions gave her the impression he was listening to something only he could hear. For most people, this would be off-putting at best, and slightly more than mildly creepy at worst. The pretty, fey-eyed Acanthus, however, was among that (un)lucky number who had genuinely experienced far stranger things in LA's nightlife.

"Sooo...." she began uncertainly, holding out both hands and beckoning the Mastigos closer, claiming the second half of the dance he owed her. "You wanna talk about that?"

[z021]

Oneca had been enjoying her dance with the free-spirited Ariel; it did a lot to wash away the bad taste of earlier in the evening. And the Little Miss Red stole her dance partner again. What was with this chick? Being dead and upright wasn't enough, she had to go around stealing dance partners at parties?

Annoyed but certainly not without other willing partners, Oneca let herself be passed around the dance floor. True to his nature, Remy stepped in only when the boys went from partially drunken frat boys with no rythym to completely smashed frat boys who were getting 'dance' and 'public sex' confused in their beer-induced stupor. The party swept on for a time; Remy and Oneca missed the next iteration of supernatural drama. Neither seemed to mind.

[Sarah Dead-Wolf]

Sarah watched as Ariel walked off. The last thing she wanted to do at this juncture was head back to the party. Seeing Lucien right now was going to be something beyond awkward and probably into the realm of truly painful.

But she'd asked, and Ariel had answered. Sighing, Sarah turned back toward the dreaded, dangerous party.

Slipping back in, the dead red-head did her best to stay out of the way; other than keeping an eye out for Declan and Moss - and an entirely different one out for what she suspected was turning into her ex-boyfriend - Sarah kept off out of the way, ensconced in an oversized easy chair, knees pulled up to her chest and arms wrapped around them in a vain effort at comfort.

[Owns-The-Night]

"Yeah." Dec told Moss with a wide grin. "She's in tv. C'mon, English. Let's go party. I owe the lady a dance or six for what I've put her through so far tonight."

* * * * *

They had slipped downstairs and joined the party-proper in the dining room of the house, unaware of the upsets brewing in the lounge as they danced. Dec wasn't much of a dancer, to be fair, but he had a basic sense of rhythm and, more importantly, nice shoulders for August to hang her arms around as they swayed together, and that covered a multitude of other failings.

"Your friends are a little... Odd." August murmured, her lips close to his ear, inhaling his scent. He always seemed to bring out her feral side. She smiled and nuzzled at his neck.

"Yeah." Declan's voice was more felt than heard, an almost sub-audible thrum that sent small shivers through her body pressed against his. "We haven't really all been together for a couple months, so things are a little weird because everyone wants to talk about important shit first." He smiled then. "Stupid, really. Hunt was right: this ain't the time or place for that. All I really wanted to do when I said to go upstairs was get Oneca comfortable with Noctis. Last time that girl lost her cool she set fire to everything around her, me included. That's a party trick we can do without."

"So that really was Lucien Hunt?"

"Heh, yeah. He's an okay guy for someone that makes a living with his pants off." Dec chuckled, a low rumble of humor. "Ahh, I just like to razz him about that. I'll introduce you later. Don't tell him I told ya, but he's a riot when he gets going."

[Rorx]

Moss shrugged as Dec and August headed back downstairs. He was apparently always in the wrong place at the wrong time tonight, guess it was just destined to be one of those nights. He slowly made his way downstairs and back into the party.

After glancing round the place he sidestepped the booze and headed for the kitchen to grab a few eats, if there was anything suitable left.

[Jeremy]

Jeremy walked out of the crowds, feeling tremendously amused, and feeling hearty. He had out drunk several frat boys, though magically spiking one glass helped against a more difficult competitor. He only showed slight signs of intoxication, moving and feeling quite normal.

He caught sight of Sarah feeling upset, and by herself. That would not do. He slipped over to the easy chair, tapping the wall nearby to grab her attention.

"You all right Sarah?" Jeremy queried with a look of concern on his face.

[Sarah Dead-Wolf]

Oh great. Just what I need. The fairy.

Sarah's posture shifted. It was hard to describe, as she didn't exactly move, but there was a definite change involved. It was somehow the difference between one who is huddled in misery and one who is crouched in defense.

"I'm fine," she lied. "Not fond of big parties. Too damned many people, all crammed into a little room. Disaster waiting to happen."

The precise kind of disaster of which Sarah spoke might have been lost on Jeremy, had he not witnessed her feeding on fallen Hunters only a few months before.

As she watched his face, Sarah could see realization dawn. "Best I stay off here to the side if I'm not otherwise busy."

[Jeremy]

Jeremy chuckled amused, drawing a glare from Sarah before he stopped. "You have.. the subterfuge of an eggplant." Now more serious, he continued. "Unless you really insist on keeping it in, what's bothering you?"

[Sarah Dead-Wolf]

Hackles rose on the Dead-Wolf's neck, and for a moment Jeremy could swear he heard the bare start of a growl. Just as quickly, however, the growl shifted to a sigh, and Sarah slumped back in the chair.

"Well, I'm fighting tooth and nail for the chance to have a chance to join a pack. The hostess of this little shindig has been looking daggers at me for the past five minutes, though I'm not sure if it's because I stole her dance partner or she's afraid I'll steal her blood. The crowd really is too damned big, and really is a recipe for disaster. And I think Lucien's in the process of dumping me... or trying to get me to dump him, it's hard to tell.

"But on the plus side," she said with faux cheer, "I'm still an undead monster." She looked up into the fae creature's strange eyes. "That about sum it up for you?"

[Jeremy]

Jeremy let out a long exhale of breath, as his mind ran down each part, determining what to say. "Well, you seem to be on the best solution for crowd control, Oneca would have been probably more wary of you and for longer if she thought you were out for the red booze..."

He stopped and considered the more thorny bits. "Don't know enough bout your relationship to talk about that. Why do you seem to have more of a wolf mentality though?"

[Sarah Dead-Wolf]

The changeling's final question earned him a long, hard look from Sarah. Only after that long moment did she unfold from the chair and stand. "C'mon," she said, leading him through the thronging crowd and out onto the back deck.

The party had wandered back indoors by this point - Californians seemed to break into uncontrollable shivers at anything colder than a few degrees below room temperature - and the strange pair were left to their own devices. The glass door muted much - though far from all - of the music, and Sarah led her recently-found ally over to the rail.

Once there, she pointed up into the night sky at a slender fingernail of silvery moon.

"Wolves are all tied in one way or another to Luna. Wild wolves. Werewolves. And wolves like me. I'm what's called a Dead-Wolf. It's a rare kinda undead. Vampire, sure, but changed a bit. I feel Her pull, Her call. In fact," she said with something close to real emotion in her voice, "the crescent moon up there right now is the one I'm tied to the most."

She sighed, gazing upward and nearly lost in that slender gleam of light, the arched bow of Diana in the star-filled heavens.

"Dead-Wolves have a connection to the werewolves. It's hard to explain, but sometimes we work together, even join a pack together. It's in the blood, literally."

[Lucien Hunt]

Originally Posted By: M. Westbrook

"Sooo...." she began uncertainly, holding out both hands and beckoning the Mastigos closer, claiming the second half of the dance he owed her. "You wanna talk about that?"

Lucien and Morgan stepped off to the side, away from the music a bit, putting a barrier or two between them and the speakers. With his middle finger and thumb he rubbed his temples as he leaned against a wall, his usual style and composure taxed to their limit, it seemed. If Morgan looked disappointed to be leaving the dance floor, it passed almost instantly when she caught his expression.

"It's Sarah," He sighed, squinting harder, as if sudden headache had just begun throbbing behind his eyes. "I don't know what to do. I honestly can't tell if she's lying to me, or just, and please pardon the impoliteness, mentally challenged."

He shrugged helplessly, clearly exasperated as Morgan simply stared at him. "She claims she doesn't understand how to socialize, that her transition into a," he looked from side to side and lowered his voice as he leaned closer. "Vampire, has stripped all that away. She says the only remnants of her previous life are memories, phantasms of what emotion and life are like. I can understand that, Morgan, I can. What I don't understand is that all she expresses for me are those remnants. She doesn't know how to feel for me or sit with me, or understand me when I talk to her. But when she's around them, the werewolves, she's completely different. She's intelligent and picks up on everything they say or do."

"Okay, but-" the Acanthus began, but Lucien wasn't listening. He was just getting started, and there was no stopping him.

He waved his arm, gesturing in the direction of the chair where the Dead Wolf had been sitting. "I mean, seriously, look at her. She couldn't even be bothered to call me and invite me, which makes sense I guess since I'm sure it's hard to hear your cell phone when it's molded into your wolf body. It's like I'm not even in the loop of this supernatural business until they need one of us to do real magic, then I'm 'okay' enough to be privy to what's going on. Anyway, I tested her here, tonight, and she didn't even come near me, she's avoided me all night in order to be with Declan and the others." The disappointment and frustration he felt was evident in the terseness, the tension of his voice as he continued. "She swears she has no clue how to be social, but did you see her with Ariel?" He mocked her openly; in a simpering voice that was at least an octave higher than normal, Lucien Hunt rolled his eyes and acted like a fifth grader for the briefest of moments. "I'm not good at parties, people don't like me, I don't fit in, I'm a monster!" Sobering suddenly, he shook his head in dismay and looked Morgan straight in the eyes. "Yeah, bull. She seemed to have a marvelous grasp of how to dance, party and live it up until Ariel left, and now look at her! She's balled up in the corner preying upon the sympathy of whomever is foolish enough to give it to her."

He shrugged again, and his tirade appeared to be nearing its end. "I'm stuck! I've no idea how to fix this. Me, Lucien Hunt, fixer, problem solver, smart guy... I'm stumped Morgan. She's so much more than what what she allows herself to be, so much." The Mastigos deflated slightly, defeated and suddenly weary, his shoulders slouching as he sighed.

[Astra D.]

He's lost his fucking mind, was all Morgan could think as Lucien ranted about his relationship issues with Sarah. Admittedly, she didn't know the vampire that well, but she'd seemed like good people... so to speak. The Enchantress was quite familiar with how easy it was to be drawn into Declan's orbit, however, and gritted her teeth as she waited for the normally calm playboy to recover his composure. There was something clearly, massively wrong with the universe if Sarah (notwithstanding her "life challenged" status) preferred the company of the leg-humping horndog to Lucien-motherfucking-Hunt, and the unpleasant twist of her mouth spoke volumes about her mind-set. L.A. was just fucked, she decided; fleeing drama, you'd inevitably run right back into its lair. Better to just kill it outright and not spare the buckshot.

"You want me to talk to her?" The grim set of Morgan's jaw and the sparks of anger in her eyes were clear indicators of what sort of "talk" it would be, and it didn't take a Mastigos mind-reader to figure out what such signs might portend.

[Lucien Hunt]

He shrugged it off dismissively. "Eh, there's no point to it Morgan. She'll go down the list of problems, make a few comments, explain a few things. Probably maybe even touch base on the vampire emotion thing or that 'the pack' and a 'mate' is all she knows or understands. Or she'll throw a fit and run out of here, she's good at that, and become a wolf and stay that way for a night or six and call in 'therapy'." He sighed again and crossed his arms. "She wants to be a dog, Morgan. That's it. An animal that hunts, and prowls, and fights with tooth and nail. There's no getting through to her, not even the People accept their kind to fall as low as she thinks. It's like she's going out of her way to completely disassociate herself from Humanity as a whole."

[z-August Turner]

August stared up at him, amazed to hear her boyfriend call the Lucian Hunt ‘an okay guy’. As surprising was the comment about razzing him. She felt her eyebrows rise and Declan asked, “What?”

“You are friends with Lucian Hunt?” she asked, barely dropping the extra ‘the’ she usually put in there. Gone was her feral playfulness as she barely managed to keep tempo with him.

“Yeah, well, not friends-friends, not like Ariel. But he’s had my back and mine his, and we’ve played some pool, so yeah, I guess,” Declan said, tilting his head. “That bad?”

“No, it’s…” Fantastic. This could totally advance my career. August stopped that thought immediately. Declan and his world were not there to improve her chances at making it big. It was so tempting though, to imagine that dating Lucian Hunt’s friend would mean something for her. She couldn’t think like that; Dec didn’t deserve to be used by her like that.

August pressed herself closer to her werewolf and returned to paying more attention to her partner. Her hands roamed his clothed body, already knowing what was concealed under them but still delighting in touching it. She nuzzled his neck until she earned a growl of pleasure. “My big bad wolf, full of surprises.”

[Astra D.]

Well, then she's an idiot, Morgan thought, even as she tugged at Lucien's hand insistently, leading him back out to the crush of people on the dance floor. But that's not getting resolved tonight, either, because this is a fucking party.

"Come on, stud. If the drama gets any thicker, we're all gonna choke." She leaned in close, barely making herself heard over the music. "You still owe me half a dance, and you're paying up right now, so you might as well enjoy it!"

Lucien Hunt couldn't turn down a pretty face, but his worry never completely dissipated as they began dancing again. Morgan was warm, enthusiastic, and energetic in his arms, and the contrast between her physical presence and that of his girlfriend lingered at the back of his mind as they moved. Then, too, he was busy trying to puzzle out what was so important that she couldn't just simply tell him, and simultaneously studying the subtle changes the months had wrought in her. She had been beautiful before her absence, and remained so, though it seemed to be of a different sort; this was beauty hardened and honed, razor-edged and... something else, he couldn't quite place. His mind went to work on that too, and all the while he managed to maintain the appearance of being completely attentive and responsive.

While Lucien busied his potent mental faculties, Morgan was making every effort to shut hers down, if only for a little while. The alcohol had blurred the edges of her perception quite pleasantly, dimming her inhibition as she pressed her back against Lucien's abdomen. The suede skirt inched up her thighs as she bent her knees, slowly sliding her body down the brilliant Mastigos and lifting her arms overhead to trail down his chest.

Um, he's kind of dating- That line of thought cut off sharply as she argued silently with her own conscience. Not the way he tells it, and anyway, it's not like I'm going to be fucking him. I wouldn't mind getting him a little riled-up, though, the mercurial young mage laughed to herself, hips undulating in slow, smooth figure-eights as she rose steadily back to her feet. As long as the drama stayed at bay, this party had a lot of potential, she decided, closing her eyes as the music swept her up in its current.

[Jeremy]

Jeremy raised an eyebrow quietly considering what she told him. "In the blood, but is that your choice? Do you really want to, or do you feel forced? Just curious. Do you want to forget who you are?"

[Sarah Dead-Wolf]

Sarah was startled by the question; her eyebrows rose as her eyes widened, turning to settle upon Jeremy.

"Forget who I am? This is who I am. Luna's plans can take odd turns, but in the balance it all fits. I was raised by werewolves and wolf-blooded; my whole damned family carried the genes except for me. Then I was embraced by a Dead-Wolf at the moment of my death out in the middle of a fucking desert, and the odds of that happening by random chance are stupidly high."

She snorted a half-laugh. "I'm not forgetting who I am. I'm working to live up to it."

[Lucien Hunt]

Morgan's skill at carousing was nearly perfected to an art form and it wasn't long before Lucien found himself swept away by her spell. With every move she made he matched it appropriately, allowing himself to be drown in the wave of sensuality and rhythm that seemed to radiate from the Enchantress like a sexual pulse.

They lost themselves to the music and the party around them seemed to bleed away as they seemingly made love on the dance floor with thier clothes on. She's right, none of this will be solved tonight. She's back. Sarah and I can talk. The Arcadia problem can be addressed... all this is something for another night. Control is never achieved when sought after directly. Th Mastigos thought himself as he briefly held Morgan in a way that would sexual harassment anywhere but a dance floor. Her hips swayed and enticed him to commit irresponsible acts. It is the surprising outcome of letting go.

[Owns-The-Night]

"Oh, you've no idea... Wait, I guess ya kinda do have an idea." Dec grinned at August, stealing a swift kiss. "C'mon. I'll introduce you to Bruce Wayne before some sorority ho steals him for the night and shackles him to her bed." Taking August's hand, he led her off through the crowd of partygoers, seeking a familiar head of neatly-coifed dark hair. He spotted the back of Hunt's head in short order. "There's the man."

Owns-The-Night had a few drinks in his system, was relaxed, happy, and not a little horny after dancing with August, and the party was a morass of smells and scents from the food, drink, and the dozens of people crammed into a relatively small space. So it was understandable that he didn't, to coin a phrase, smell trouble. He saw a pair of delicate female hands caressing Hunt's neck and shoulders and chuckled. Looks like we're just in time.

"Hey, Lucien!" The burly werewolf's deep rough voice called jovially above the music as he led August up to the playboy Mastigos. "I'd like to introduce you to someone!"

[Astra D.]

Even over the sound of the music, and through the faint, pleasurable warmth of the alcohol in her system, Morgan Westbrook knew that voice. Her very pattern resonated with the memory of it, thrumming like a guitar string in a deep vibrato. Anger, regret, and longing (though she would never, even under duress, admit to the last two) surged up inside her, warring for dominance as she all but froze in Lucien’s arms. To her immense relief, anger won out as she turned, leaving one arm draped possessively around the Mastigos’s neck as she faced the Rahu. She’d thought about him too often: the first man she’d kissed and meant it. The first one who knew what she was, and didn’t care. The first one she’d handed her mercurial heart to, ignoring all other entreaties because he insisted their time together should be special. It was easy to see how “special” he felt it should’ve been, looking at the slim young woman beside him. She remembered how completely gutted she’d felt when she found out about the women seen leaving his house in a state of bliss-induced exhaustion, and looking at August, she almost laughed. Pale skin, dark hair, green eyes… But for a few differences, it was like looking into a mirror. She wondered if that was intentional, another barb for the dagger in her heart, or if the stupid wolf was too ignorant to realize it.

Not a tall girl, Morgan nevertheless drew herself up, ramrod straight, and turned to look directly into Declan’s lambent silver eyes. The surprise she saw there was gratifying, and the venomous, bitter satisfaction she gained at the moment of awkwardness bled through into the twisted curve of her smile.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the Big Bad himself!” the Acanthus said, just loudly enough to be heard over the music as her smile broadened, but was no more jovial for it. Sparks of frost-rimed emerald flared in her eyes as the party lights flickered over them. “Did you finally find a mate to keep you properly leashed?” she asked, her frigid tone clearly accusatory, “Or do you get a discount for buying red cloaks in bulk, now?” Somehow, she managed to remain calm and still, even poised, despite the growing urge to claw his eyes out like a vindictive harpy of old.

It's not this girl's fault, she kept repeating to herself, over and over, as if it might alleviate her mounting rage at having her evening ruined, and at seeing Declan after so long. Focus on him.

[Owns-The-Night]

Silver eyes widened in shock as he beheld the spite and anger in eyes which still haunted his dreams, saw scorn twisting the features of the woman who had been his goddess. Dec's face was frozen, expressionless as Morgan's words washed over him. To those watching it was almost as though he didn't hear them. But he did. Worse, he felt them, a stinging lash that made him want to howl from the pain of it. To his credit, he didn't flinch.

"Morgan." He said, feeling something inside him fragment into splinters of ice in the face of the blizzard of her anger. Sadness, regret and yes, guilt warred inside him, mixing with anger at her words. He took a deep breath, his eyes not leaving hers. Regret won over anger, at least for now. Everything I've never said, everything I did wrong by her. Those girls, when I thought we weren't an item yet and just couldn't keep it in my pants... Yeah, I've earned this. Some of it, at least. He sighed softly, making sure one shoulder was between the volatile angry Enchantress and August. "I'm glad to see you're still kicking, Morgan. I was worried." he stated simply.

[Astra D.]

Declan had meant to protect August from her, but he needn't have bothered. Needless to say, they weren't the best circumstances for exchanging pleasantries and introductions, but if the Enchantress had learned anything from her experiences, it was to give "credit" where it was due.

"It's nice to see some things haven't changed," the Enchantress replied icily, refusing to give an inch. He could be as conciliatory as he wanted; when the night was over, he'd probably still be fucking the other girl just as enthusiastically as the one he'd been banging when Morgan had left. Idly, she wondered if it was the same person, and mentally shrugged. It didn't matter. The new girl (whoever she was) would figure it out, soon enough: her companion was a wolf, and as everyone who'd ever read a fairy tale knew, wolves could not be trusted.

"Fortunately, some things have," she said, rather more quietly as she regarded the child of Luna. She could almost see the threads of Fate unwinding, frayed ends vanishing into the aether, and she let them go. All the hopes she'd been fostering died then, finally deprived of sustenance. All the times her heart had raced when she'd thought she'd seen him, when she'd wondered if they might ever go back to the way they'd been, if he might really have cared, faded into the same nothingness that had swallowed up the rest of her life. She turned her head abruptly, a sharp, reflexive gesture to conceal the sudden brightness of her eyes.

"You came to introduce your… to introduce her to Lucien, right?” she asked coolly, her arm sliding from around the handsome Mastigos to reach for a silver cigarette case tucked in the back of her skirt. “Here he is. Hunt, I’ll catch up with you later. I need some air.” It was a thin excuse, and she knew it, but it was better than the alternative. Without waiting for a response, she strode purposefully through the crowd, out into the backyard and the welcoming chill of the night.

She took a drag off her cigarette with a trembling hand, leaning back against the house as she stared out at nothing in particular. “A thing cannot change its nature,” someone had told her once. She hadn’t believed them, and now, she realized, she’d been wrong. Morgan had never really been anyone’s “Little Red;” she couldn’t be the princess, the ingenue, because she didn’t get to write the story. As her anger ebbed reluctantly, replaced by a dull ache behind her eyes and in her throat, she exhaled a silvery plume of smoke into the cobalt sky. She was the witch in the woods who trapped the trespassing ingenue; she was the jilted fairy who never had a place at the table when the princess was christened; not a villain, not evil, but as much a victim of circumstance as anyone else, and never permitted the dignity of success or the peace of lasting happiness.

What she didn’t understand was why, and the sting of bitter, unshed tears burned her eyes as she shivered. So much for having a good time.

[z021]

"Mind if I join you?"

The voice came from behind her as Oneca stepped out of the house. The two had only met briefly before, and the pyrokinetic had only heard bits and pieces of what had just occured, but going out for a smoke after bitching out a guy was pretty universal girl speak. Sometimes it meant 'leave me the fuck alone', but sometimes it also meant time to talk to another woman. Remy had nudged her go outside, knowing Oneca usually did better when she focused on helping anyone but herself. She waited, clove in her hand but unlit in case Morgan asked her to leave.