World of Darkness World of Darkness: Attrition - Five O'Clock Somewhere

[Vivi OOC]

Click to reveal.. (See the Flyer)

April 23, 2010

The flyers had been posted all over campus and the surrounding streets for the past three days, finding their way onto storefronts, mail boxes, trash cans, stairwells, trees, and, on one occasion, an unwitting freshman. As soon as the groundskeepers tore them down, grumbling about the fines for littering and defacing school property, they reappeared within a matter of hours. It was as if the lurid blue and orange pages were somehow multiplying, defying any effort to eradicate them completely. Within hours of their first appearance, of course, most of the student body knew about the party, and most had already decided whether or not they planned to go; "Hunt's Party Palace," as it was apparently known this week, had attracted a diverse and devoted group of attendees from UCLA's residents.

Some enjoyed the beachfront location, the sunshine, and the waves, and those were certainly points in the house's favor. Some liked the relaxed, easygoing vibe that seemed to be the hallmark of the gatherings. Others appreciated the sense of escapism, of lingering on a private deck with an ice cold Mexican beer and just letting the worries of the day slip away for a while. In fact, despite the press of expensive homes and the busy freeway nearby, "Hunt's Party Palace" seemed to most who ventured there to be almost a world apart.

The house itself was practically designed for entertaining, with three stories containing four bedrooms, five baths, a second-floor balcony, a private deck off the master suite, a wet bar, a game room, a hot tub, an integrated iPOD/MP3 stereo system, and a patio that opened onto the sands of the Santa Monica Beach, with a gorgeous view of the pier itself in the distance. (This last was rumored to look especially stunning from the rooftop.)

Many weren't interested, despite these amenities, for one major reason: it was common knowledge on campus that their host had forbidden drugs on the property. (Yes, the incredulous were warned, even pot.) That didn't stop people from getting stoned out of their minds before going, of course, but it did cut down on the sheer volume of potential legal repercussions. As one veteran Party Palace visitor advised potential newcomers on the CalNet forums, "For real, though, guys. No weapons, no drugs. We all wanna have a good time, and those two things just don't mix. If you're gonna smoke out, or drop a little E or whatever, we can't stop you, but if we catch you with it in the house, it'll be the last time you're welcome. Believe it, 'cause I've seen it happen."

It was a gorgeous, unseasonably warm day, with temperatures spiking into the 70s, and as the daylight slowly began to wane, it cooled only slightly with the inevitable approach of dusk. By the time 5pm rolled around, the wide ribbon of sand in front of the Palace was already milling with people: half-dressed girls and shirtless guys from the university getting a head-start on summer, along with locals who had simply drifted over from other houses or farther down the beach. There were coolers on the patio, in the kitchen, and even around the hot tub, with a variety of bottles and crushed ice practically spilling over the sides. Music was everywhere, pouring out of windows and parked vehicles, and the distant sounds of the pier were carried over by the breeze...

Click to reveal.. (ST Note)

Participation in this group fiction is not mandatory. If you aren't interested, or don't have a reason why your character might be at this party, please don't worry about it! It's just an easier way of getting some of the PCs together without saying, "So, you're sitting in a bar..."

[Jeremy]

There were innumerable reasons for Jeremy to be at the party. Not the least being that UCLA students formed a key part of the LA Amphora's clientele. The proper use of subtle advertising and worth of mouth would pay dividends much much later.

Hence the mountain of special beers he (with some friendly help) had hauled into the Hunt beach house at 4:50 with custom wrappers. These were light green affairs with 'LA Amphora' and the name of the beer type, light, brown, pale, you name it, plus ads advocating the bar and the usual dietary/ingredient information.

It was working, because already the crate of LA Amphora beer were vanishing like ghosts.

Jeremy himself sat upon one of the benches at the patio, sipping one of his establishment's drinks, contentedly resting in the breeze and sun.

This was nice, he supposed, but it would be better in the dark. The night was always more interesting. Both in the Chinese and good ways.

[z-Shane O'Neally]

Shane had parked his Ford Bronco not too far away from the event. He didn’t know about it when he decided to crash there and just wanted to enjoy the view for a few days before continuing his search. As the day went by and the sun started to set the place got more crowded instead of being deserted like the last days. Shane wasn’t sure what was going on at first but soon found one of the blue/orange flyers that had somehow developed a live of their own.

„Great… can’t a man have his fucking peace for once?“, he said to himself ripping the paper into tiny little pieces until they resembled confetti. Blewing them away he got out of his car making sure everything was safe and secured, then he made his way to the place. If he had no choice he could as well be part of it. Maybe someone could give him a hint about Sarah’s whereabouts.

Shane tried to meld with the crowd but somehow he felt like he was sticking out like a neonpink poodle. The younger kids were dodging out of his way and he got one or two unfriendly looks which he stared down with predatory intensity. He felt a rash spreading over his body as anxiety and anticipation made him inpatient and nervous. Being around crowds usually ended in some kind of trouble – if he wanted it or not. He had become used to it but he still hated it. Pursing his lips he pulled himself together in an attempt to appear as relaxed and easygoing as possible. Unfortunately it didn’t show much on his face as his expression was still rather grim and determined.

He found his way where most of the people were crashing, a cold beer in his hand leisurely held by strong and broad fingers. His eyes were set on the horizon, watching the waves on the beach waiting, hoping…

[Sarah Dead-Wolf]

[22 April 2010, 04:00]

Another dry spell. What was it about April that made hunting in Los Angeles so damned hard? Nearly two years in this city, and for some reason, April was the worst. She'd nearly starved in 2009, making due with squirrels and the occasional unfortunate jogger; things had been rough then, her grip on her Humanity slipping as she tried desperately to wrap her mind around a "different" way of thinking to better fit her circumstances. It had taken a long, long time to get past that and realize just how important the hold on her former human self could be.

So now, she was more careful in her feeding. It was easier on her Humanity, but harder on her stomach. She knew the place much better now, though, and had an improved understanding of what she thought of as her territory. Despite the lean pickings, she managed to keep from the dangerously low reserves that could risk frenzy and all the hells that came with it.

But a welcome opportunity was on the horizon. The flyers had started turning up a couple nights earlier, and she had one neatly folded in an inner jacket pocket. "Hunt's Party Palace" sounded like a great opportunity to catch a meal. And maybe - just maybe - if she was lucky enough, to run into one of the People, or even catch some faint trace of Amber's long-cold trail.

With hopes for a good meal and perhaps more in her head, Sarah settled into the earth of Holmby Park again to sleep out the day.

~~~~~

[23 April 2010, 20:00]

One of the downsides of undeath is the problem of being anywhere close to on time for any appointment that happens under the sun's harsh and deadly light. Hunt's party had kicked off at five, with the big flaming deathball still hanging well above the mighty Pacific. Only after Sol had disappeared beneath the distant waves could Sarah escape her earthen shelter and return to the land of the living.

Still, this did allow the party to get rolling, she knew as she walked along Wilshire to the nearest bus stop. Normally, she'd have saved the fifty cents and walked - or flown - the distance, but tonight the bus seemed the better option. And indeed, it was; a fellow in back gave Sarah the wandering eye and an offered seat, and when she left for her stop at Ocean Ave, he was both happier and more pale.

A little refreshed and ready for more, Sarah headed with a spring in her step toward the Party Palace.

[z-Shane O'Neally]

Shane had found a comfortable place to settle after he had virutally scouted out every redhead his eyes set on. Without appearing too conspicous he tried to find out if there was someone named Sarah among them who would fit more or less the last image he had from her.

Damn… can’t even tell how she looks like, how am I supposed to find her?. The last time he saw her they were 8 years old. At first he was absolutely positive to recognise her if he saw her but now doubt was slowly creeping into his conscious mind telling him that he had no clue how she looked now today.

Maybe she’s dead already…

No, not Sarah, too much of a survivor in her… she ain’t dead., Shane took another long draft from his beer and put the empty bottle down to the small array of bottles he had emptied over the last 3 hours.

If there was one thing he was certain about it was that he’d instantly knew if she had died. It was more likely he was going insane but he would refuse to accept any rumors or news about her death until he actually felt it.

She’s alive, I know it. She must be in this damned city somewhere…

His eyes wandered over the crowd stopping here and there on any female that was having red hair but most of them were far too young or had no resemblance to Sarah whatsoever.

What if she died her hair?

“Nah…”, he said to himself shaking his head getting some odd looks from his sudden outburst. He was starting to wonder if it was such a good idea to join this party. He had absolutely no connection to any of the students around here and he didn’t feel like he would ever fit their standards.

They certainly don’t fit mine…

Getting drunk was getting more and more appealing with each passing hour. He got up and walked over to the bar to get himself another beer…

[Lucien Hunt]

Kahki shorts? Check.

Loose fitting shirt? Check.

Halfway unbuttoned? Double check.

Flip-flops? Check.

Sunglasses at night? Well, duh!

"I got my toes in the water... ass in the sand... not a worry in the world, a cold beer in my hand..." Lucien grinned from his third floor private balcony as he watched everyone around the place just having a damn good time. "Life is good." He finished the lyrics about half as softly as he begun them. He'd been tossing these bashes for quite some time now and the people and faces were all starting to become familiar to him. He knew how it would end tonight, the same way it always did: people would pass out, be late for class and he'd wake up with three or so 'I wanna go into nursing' freshmen in his bed with him around noon or so.

And for some reason, it never got boring.

His door shut silently behind him but he didn't turn around. Only one person in the house had a pass key for the third floor. "He still hasn't shown up." Came an alluring Columbian accent from over his shoulder. The young apostate turned to face his attractive guest and offered her a smile as a greeting. Her sun kissed cocoa skin was covered by a black snake print triangle top bikini that flattered with leather and gold square details on the straps on her hips. Only a shimmer of the gold seemed to peek through the black mesh sarong that covered her legs past her knees. The suit and the sarong matched her straight black hair and complimented her smooth skin and exotic beauty.

"I haven't seen him either, Roz." Lucien replied solemnly. Rosalind was the only other soul he'd shared his current secret with, about his new abilities and meeting Altas. She took it surprisingly well, better than the three pound movie prop woolly tarantula he left in the seat of her car that one morning. He had no idea Spanish profanity sounded that sexy. All in all though, she'd been the only person he trusted with his secrets and she's always been a true friend that stood by him when he needed it. Like now, here she was helping him out despite neither of them having any idea what exactly they were doing.

"And he never told you how to reach these 'Mysterium' people?" She sat on the bed and leaned back, supporting herself on her arms. She looked as inticing as a woman could and if Lucien already didn't know here as well as he did moves would have been made and mood music would have been turned on.

"Nope." He shrugged before folding his arms and leaning against the railing. "He just said 'we'd talk more when he got back'. I was still digesting all the crap he told me about towers and dreams... I didn't think to get a business card or a cell number, y'know?"

"Lu, the guy could have been fuckin' with you," She tilted her head slightly, trying to get him to look at her and make some kind of eye contact. She knew how bothered he was by this whole string of events lately. He'd been left high and dry and was now feeling abandoned and confused with a whole bunch of information and nothing to do with it. "I mean, come on, magic? Lucien, that's a bit much, don't you think?"

Prying his eyes off her incredibly well supported rack was hard, providing her a display to counter her point was not, however. Subtly impulses leapt from his mind and trough his will alone the plasma television mounted on the wall lit up and activated, the receiver clicked on and started playing the last MP3 Lucien was listening to and the alarm clock alarm went off all at once. All with a snap of his fingers.

She was still in awe every time he did that little trick. Her sensual lips curled into a grin and she laughed slightly. "Alright, point taken." Everything in the room shut off again and she stood up from her place on the incredibly soft bed. "Look, we'll keep trying, alright? For now you've a party to get to and I'm about at my limit of frat guys cupping the ladies and slapping my ass as their introduction to 'want to dance?'. I was coming up to tell you I was heading out, I've lots of studying to do."

The young mage's expression of being crushed on the spot didn't seem to shake her resolve. "C'mon, you're leaving? It's only..." he looked to his bare wrist, then to the alarm clock which he shut off, then tapped his pockets for his cell phone that didn't seem to be there.

"Eight Twenty-One." She folded her arms and sighed. "Some of us are not blessed with your intellect, or money. I have to actually study if I'm going to pass my classes. Your watch you left in the second floor bathroom, I put it under the sink to prevent someone from helping themselves to it. Remember to set you clock, you've a nine o'clock class in the morning, and your cell phone you left in your school pack, again."

He grinned wide and perked up a bit. "You take such good care of me Roz, when are we going out?"

"We're not," she managed to laugh a bit at his humor. "We're friends, remember? Besides, someone has to take care of you and you certainly don't seem up to the task." The columbian beauty offered him a playful dirty look. "I'm going to get change, and I'll see you tomorrow, kay?"

"Thanks Roz," Lucien said sincerely. "I appreciate you hanging out and helping me look for the guy. "I'mna head on down there and do something stupid." He smiled and gave her a hug. "Get outta here before I cup the ladies and ask you to dance."

"Tease." she cooed, offering him a sarcastic smirk and a seductive sway in her hips as the bathroom door closed.

*****

A few moments later Lucien had made his appearance on the second floor where the dance party was in full effect. Everything from swimsuits to clubwear was on display and the neighbors were already hanging themselves to escape the noise. Fuck em'. The door was open and they were already out voted on where the night was gonna end up. They could conform or complain, either way he had some partying to do.

Two dances, eleven hugs, six handshakes, seven high fives, twenty 'yo dudes!', four sexual propositions and one tongue thrust down his throat as a greeting by a brunette he didn't even recognize told him that this party, like every night before it, was going to be a complete success.

[109]

Dan didn't originally plan on going to the party. He didn't really like large events. There was too much noise, too many people and he just didn't like them. He'd much rather spend a quiet evening studying by himself, so when the poster appeared on his door he promptly took it down and threw it away. When it reappeared a second, third and fourth time, he finally left it up. He even decided to go, what did he have to lose? He was trying to get to know people and make friends here, and this seemed like a good chance to do it. Nothing like a bit of music and large amounts of alcohol to build friendships.

Well, here he was, t-shirt, swim trunks and flip flops in all. He would have to admit, the party was thriving. People were dancing, music was pounding and the booze was flowing. Perhaps that's what made it so disappointing that Dan was having a hard time getting into it. Instead, he found himself away from the main group of the party by himself leaning against the rail with a bottle of 'LA Amphora' in his hand. He took a deep swig, trying to remember how many bottles he had before this. He was pretty sure this was 7 or 8.

It wasn't like he hadn't tried to socialize a bit, but he was quickly reminded why he didn't go to parties like this often. It was just hard to relate with some kid in college whose only worries in life so far were to get a decent GPA and what to wear in the morning. It was hard to believe he'd probably be just like them if he had gone straight to college too. It took a good effort not to sound like a pretentious prick, and even then people either seemed bored or uncomfortable around him.

Still, it wasn't all bad. He had gotten a couple dances and some chicks number when he mentioned he played guitar. Plus he was feeling oddly comfortable so far at the party despite his usual aversion to big events. There was no repressed guilt or anything had popped up as of yet. Maybe it was the atmosphere, maybe it was the ocean, or maybe it was even the beer, but whatever it was so far he felt at peace.

Well, until he had felt the feeling. A shiver down his spine and the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. His eyes glanced over someone who seemed to be even more out of place then he was. He had never seen the man before, but there was a familiar feeling behind it. Something felt off about him, something that put Dan on edge. He had gotten it once or twice before around people, usually some creepy or crazy looking person that eyes him with an odd look. Dan downed the rest of the bottle quickly. He was not going to let this bother him. He already resolved this was going to be a good night.

He grabbed another drink, taking back his spot on the rail. He decided would rejoin the party in a bit, right after he finished his drink.

[Sarah Dead-Wolf]

It was a banquet. An absolute, unmitigated banquet. And so long as Sarah was willing to accept a bit of alcohol in her food, there was no trouble at all getting her fill.

After the first few fellows - and one girl, who apparently took the redhead's denim-wear as a nicely butch sign, and about whom said redhead didn't complain in the least - Sarah actually had a nice little buzz going on. Still, she held enough of her faculties to know that going further down that road would likely be a Bad Idea ™. So she settled back a bit, people-watching, looking for potential prey that wasn't three sheets to the wind. Strolling along the beach wasn't so bad, really, not with a light wind coming off the water and the primal roar of the tide.

People-watching was one of those things that Sarah had done since she first had the opportunity to do so. Growing up in a somewhat sheltered and clannish setting, she never really related terribly well to the outside world, and that hadn't changed appreciably over the years (or with her death). But these days, it was a necessity for two very solid reasons. The first, of course, was the never-ending hunt. But the second was that, as she knew all too well, vampires tended to slip away from human habits over time. If she was to continue to pass among them - let alone hold onto her Humanity - she had to watch them, remember what it was to be as them, mimic them.

Eventually, her feet brought her toward the bar. Not the best place to find sobriety... unless you caught someone just after grabbing their first drink of the night. As she made her way over there, one tall fellow in particular caught her eye. It might have been that, no matter who else was around him, he somehow seemed alone; the press of people simply would not press up against him as it did with most. Or it could have been his bearing: somehow on edge even with beer in him, looking like a tightly-coiled spring. But mostly, it was his own intense look, as he obviously scanned the crowd for someone or something.

There was a creeping familiarity about this guy, too, a hint of something that Sarah couldn't quite put her finger on. For about half a minute, she thought she might have met him before somewhere, maybe during her time on the road, maybe when she was in classes up at UCSF. Regardless, there was a vibe from the guy as she moved past. Heck, it was even possible that he was Uratha, but that was always hard to pin down at any rate, a matter of guesswork more often wrong than right. A Mekhet with "the Sight" could pick out just about anything supernatural about anyone with galling accuracy, but other undead - even Dead Wolves like Sarah - were left with nothing better than, at best, educated hints and guesses; a dangerous game when the wrong guess could prove fatal.

Either way, she settled on him as someone to approach. He seemed mostly sober, and that was a definite plus if he was to be her next meal. He did have that sort of predatory vibe - though no sigh of a Beast, thankfully - and that had her curiosity piqued. He wasn't hard on the eyes, either; while sex didn't really do much for Sarah anymore, a bit of companionship now and then didn't hurt the rather lonely vampire's feelings. And yes, there was that nagging familiarity that she wanted to resolve.

Making sure that she was breathing in a more or less regular pattern, Sarah affixed a smile to her face and approached the fellow loner as he was downing his beer.

"So," she directed at him, stepping into the no-man's-land that surrounded him, "do you come to these things often?" It wasn't a good starting line - it was a terrible starting line, actually - but socialization was never Sarah's strong suit at the best of times. To her benefit, she was a girl, he was a boy, and in general that was enough to at least start things off.

[Owns-The-Night]

20:20

"This" Dec muttered to himself as he walked up the drive to the Party Palazzo "Is gonna suck." The music was blaring from every open door and window, mixing with the sounds of lots of people having a good time. Dec paused in the shadow of the huge house, wracked by indecision. Dressed in a white tank-top, knee-length denim shorts and flip-flops he peered up at the house.

How bad can it be? No drugs, no weapons. Sounds like the best damn party you've ever been to from what some of the students were sayin', too. A nice, chilled-out fun-fest. Right. He took a couple of slow steps forward, tilting his head back as though he were admiring the joint rather than considering heading back the way he'd come. A couple of girls passed him, throwing the oddly-behaved man curious looks before heading into the party. The one on the left, Dec idly noted, had a smokin' rear.

"Fuck it." Dec grinned and followed them in.

* * * * *

Forty minutes later, Dec was having a good time.

Well, for the most part. He'd secured a fine perch on the second-story balcony and was leaning against the railing, his third beer in hand and enjoying the benefit of the sea breeze. The music was loud, uncomfortably so for the Vargr's keen ears, but the balcony let him watch the goings-on without being deafened. His moon-silver eyes had no trouble piercing the gloom and half-light. He'd nodded and said 'hi' to a few people who had recognised and greeted him but otherwise seemed comfortable to merely observe. This wasn't particularly an issue, because one thing Dec wasn't crowded with was people willing to stand closer to him than absolutely necessary.

Not that there weren't a few.

"...So I've, like, seen you around the campus and stuff. My friend Traci says you're always in the gym or running." The blonde was cute: petite in height and build, with short pixie-cut hair and bubble-gum pink lipstick that matched her teeny-weeny bikini and the flowers on her white sarong. Her name was Joy and she was a freshman, a local girl born and bred. She had a refreshing lack of pretentiousness and an open, if simple, manner, and Dec found himself warming to her. She giggled and sipped her drink, her gaze straying from his eyes to his shoulders then wandering off with deliberate casualness as she talked. "I'm, like, totally wasted after one hour's workout. I do power-yoga and pilates once each a week." Brown eyes rested on his chest for a moment then looked up into his eyes. "So what's your secret? You're doing all this heavy work all day, then you go and work out? Crazy man!" Her tone was light, teasing and flirtatious as she poked his arm. Dec smiled at her and shook his head.

"Honestly? Running's the best exercise there is. Well, second-best." He grinned at that, his head tilting to one side as Joy laughed.

"Oh, I just bet you know allll about that!" She shot back with a matching grin. Dec shrugged and took a swig of his beer, then gazed off with deadpan nonchalance before sliding his gaze back to hers and smiling again.

"I never kiss an' tell, darlin'." Joy's laugh was melodic, and Declan was starting to feel that the night was going to have a very pleasant ending when, in hindsight, the inevitable happened.

"Joy!" A broad-shouldered, athletic young man pushed his way to the blonde girl's side. She squealed from, well, joy and threw her arms around his neck.

"Robbie! You made it." She half-turned and motioned to Declan, who was watching their exchange from the rail. "This is Dec. He's a groundskeeper at UCLA. Dec, this is Robbie, a friend."

"A good friend." Robbie said with a smile at Dec before looking back at Joy. "C'mon, Joy. The gang's all here down at the tub."

"Oh, awesome!" She looked at Dec again. "Want to come and meet the guys?" Dec was tempted to accept, but saw the look in Robbie's eye and decided against it. It'd just turn into a dick-swinging contest, and that would be all fun and games until someone lost their trachea.

"Nah." He grinned at Joy. "I don't have my trunks, and it's too early and too sober for birthday swimwear." Joy giggled then mock-pouted.

"Aww, alright then. It was awesome talking to you, Declan. I'll see you around?"

"Count on it." He watched as Robbie led the girl off, one arm protectively (and possessively) around her shoulders. He was still watching when Joy glanced back to see if he was, and grinned as she smiled coyly back at him. Yeah, she'd be back when Robbie passed out. Probably. Maybe. Hell, the night was still young.

And with that thought in mind, Dec slipped off the railing and wandered off to find another beer.

[Swara-Ann]

She could feel the eyes of the crowd on her as she moved through them with a predatory grace far to subtle for the Sleeper eye to see. Women she past found themselves wanting to ask her how she maintained a body as perfect as hers and the men just simply wanted her. Everyone male she passed caught the sweet scent of Love Spell as she brushed past them, smiling bashfully with pink glossed lips.

Swara-Ann loved these parties. She was a people person, despite her Primal Urge to consistently be wary and alert for the Enemy. She enjoyed a few dances and spoke to a few people she recognized and for all her socializing she never seemed to notice the harsh glares she was getting from some of the girlfriends of the men who couldn't take their eyes off of her. It wasn't her fault entirely, she had been pretty before her first change, but she could also fish form an ice hole and field dress a seal. The supernatural nature of the First Change though had awakened within her the absolute perfection of the human frame, and, like the blessings most supernatural creatures received, it showed.

Longing to get away for a bit she smiled politely at the freshman with the short pixie-cut hair and shade of lip stick Swara adored on her as she passed her and her date on the stairs. "S'cuse me." She said softly with a polite smile, allowing them to pass.

As she leaned on the second floor balcony's railing and looked out over the ocean, where the lights from Santa Monica Pier made the water sparkle, the breeze took hold of her hair and made it gently dance under Luna's light. She wore a comfortable white summer dress that wasn't nearly as daring as some of the outfits the girls had dared to show up in. Rising up from underneath her dress the ties of a white swim suit top wrapped up behind her neck, hinting that she suspected the possibility of water sports.

She liked white, it reminded her of something she didn't get to see anymore: snow. In fact, it was the thought of home that preoccupied her thoughts as looked out over the ocean. She knew that if she just floated north for several hundred cold miles, she'd be home again. She missed it. She may have been a joyous people person, but here, she didn't fit in. Reflected in her ice blue seemed a deep sorrow.

[Owns-The-Night]

Man, I love this party!

Declan paused for a long moment to savor the sight before him, the fresh beer in hand temporarily forgotten. Whereas Joy had been petite and slender, the replacement blonde leaning on the balcony's railing seemed athletic and strongly-built as opposed to the fashionably skinny Cali-Girl look: her curves being those of well-used muscles rather than 'beauty workouts'. She was also leaning away from him, which gave the silver-eyed Vargr a fantastic view of her splendidly toned and nicely rounded... calves. Whoever this chick was, she had parked herself right next to his previous perch. She'd probably been scoping him out and figured he'd come back here after getting another drink. Awesome.

Without preamble he leaned against the railing in his previous spot a few feet from her, his back to the ocean as he took a drink and glanced sideways at her. That was sufficient to reassess his first thoughts on the girl. Though no expert, he was pretty sure that sad, distant eyes weren't a weapon in the arsenal of flirtation. At least, not unless you were emo, and this girl looked A) too healthy and too wholesome to be the sort that listened to Evanescence in a dark room with a handy knife for self-harming.

On the other hand, she looked just as good from the front as she did from the ass-end, so talking if she wanted to talk couldn't hurt. Right? He slid his butt along the railing a half-step towards her and leaned a little closer, his silver eyes examining her face.

"Hey. You okay?"

[z-Shane O'Neally]

Originally Posted By: Sarah O'Neally

(...)

Either way, she settled on him as someone to approach. He seemed mostly sober, and that was a definite plus if he was to be her next meal. He did have that sort of predatory vibe - though no sigh of a Beast, thankfully - and that had her curiosity piqued. He wasn't hard on the eyes, either; while sex didn't really do much for Sarah anymore, a bit of companionship now and then didn't hurt the rather lonely vampire's feelings. And yes, there was that nagging familiarity that she wanted to resolve.

Making sure that she was breathing in a more or less regular pattern, Sarah affixed a smile to her face and approached the fellow loner as he was downing his beer.

His eyes remained focused on the crowd, searching, lingering, wanting and hoping. The music vanished into the background the beating of his own heart the only thing he heard. Suddenly a face popped out of the crowd - a much too familiar face.

Lily?, but that was impossible... he killed her. His body tensed, fingers clenching the bottle of beer almost bursting it under his strong grip. He straightened himself up, stretching to his full height just to get a better overview but failed to find her again. Too many people here and he couldn't cut through the masses... it would cause too much trouble and attention. Unwanted attention.

She's dead..., he reminded himself looking at his bottle and then past it down to the floor. Even though the place was full of people the stool next to him was empty and it didn't seem as if anyone was interested to get any closer to him except for one shadow that was approaching from the side with careful steps. Not too sublime but yet careful enough to back off in case of being unwelcomed.

Originally Posted By: Sarah O'Neally

"So," she directed at him, stepping into the no-man's-land that surrounded him, "do you come to these things often?" It wasn't a good starting line - it was a terrible starting line, actually - but socialization was never Sarah's strong suit at the best of times. To her benefit, she was a girl, he was a boy, and in general that was enough to at least start things off.

Her voice was nice and calm and somehow soothed him unexpectedly. He was in a foul, melancholic kind of mood and usually that was enough for him to start a fight just because. A good brawl would distract him from his real pain, it would numb his emotional side that was unable to cope with the loss of his wife.

That must be the worst pick-up line I've ever heard... and I'm the inventor of bad pick-up lines, he chuckled briefly before his dark eyes settled on hers. He was about to answer with a witty remark about her pick-up line when his brain slowly caught up with what he saw.

His mouth half opened he stared at her in disbelief dropping his bottle in this moment of total surprise... it almost made him shift purely on instinct driven by the cautious nature of the predator that he was.

She can't be..., his mouth formed the words but there was no sound he made. Shane held his breath as if this was the only way to hold on to sanity.

[Sarah Dead-Wolf]

Sarah wasn't unused to getting a wide range of reactions from people; this was Los Angeles. But the way that this guy's eye widened - and his jaw fell open - was something brand new. The vampire had her own slight moment of quiet panic - Does he see something? Am I too pale? Am I showing fang? Oh, please don't let me be showing fang....

With the smile still frozen in place beneath her own slightly widened eyes, Sarah probed ever-so-carefully with her tongue, relaxing just a touch upon finding that her fangs were retracted right where they belonged. A very quick glance showed that she was, while pale, not so much so that it couldn't be explained away with her Irish freckles and red hair.

So what was with this guy? She settled on a particularly brave move: reaching up, she cupped two fingers under his chin, and gently closed his mouth.

"I know it was a bad line," she ventured, "but was it that bad?"

[z-Shane O'Neally]

He felt her fingers on his chin in a surreal slow pace. His heart was beating fast and his nostrils flared before he took a deep breath followed by a sharp exhale. The bottle of beer was spilling it's cold content over his boots but his eyes never left hers.

"I...", he started caught between his conflicting emotions. Part of him wanted to take her hand and twist it around for daring to invade his personal space, yet something about her made him stall... made him rethink the situation and suppress his first impulse.

"I'm sorry... I was lost in thoughts... been a busy day", weeks actually, he half lied. Shane wasn't a good liar and right now it showed pretty much by his delayed answers.

Trying to regain some initiative he bowed his head slightly forward with a little smirk on his face. "My name is Shane... and I think you owe me a beer, lady."

Just stay calm Shane... nothing happened... nothing... happened, he kept repeating to himself as a mantra.

[Sarah Dead-Wolf]

Whatever it was that was eating this guy, Sarah realized, he wasn't up for telling it right now. That much was apparent. And the way he called her "lady" didn't bode well for future intimacy of the sort likely to earn her a meal.

The offer of a beer didn't exactly help either; it was always horrid to actually drink the stuff, though she supposed that it could conveniently spill here and there if needed....

...and did he just call himself Shane? Sarah blinked a few times at that one, as her brain caught up and a twinge of something resembling sorrow echoed within her. She'd not heard the name in a while, and it didn't help matters that the guy was still tripping her circuits in the "familiar but unknown" category. The slightly distant look in her eyes passed quickly enough, though; emotions weren't her strongest suite, even under a half-moon like now. Well, if nothing else, I could use it for conversation; maybe there's a meal at the end of this after all.

"Well let it never be said that I turned down a beer from a polite gentleman," she said with a grin. "Especially one named Shane, since that was my brother's name." Gesturing toward the bar, she said, "lead on, cowboy."

[Jeremy]

Jeremy shrugged himself off from his contemplation of the ocean, and decided to observe how the the Amphora beers were going. With a sigh, he tore himself away from the view and got up. Brushing himself off, he strode off to the bar to take a look.

When he got there, inserting himself into the gaggle where the beers seemed to be changing hands, he smirked at the evidence of the success that the beer was having.

Comments extolling the alcohol and suggested trips to the bar later on was music to his ears.

Seeing a pair, a well-built man and a red-head approaching the bar he lightly tossed one of the few remaining LA Amphora labeled beers to the man, then as he was about give one to the girl, stopped and he returned the can to the bar top with a wry grin.

Of course, this woman in denim he remembered, even after a couple of years. Hard to forget getting your blood drunk by a vampire. "Heh. Sarah O'Neally. I forgot you didn't drink."

[Swara-Ann]

Originally Posted By: Owns-The-Night

"Hey. You okay?"

She feigned like she didn't notice his approach. Her thought (she rarely kept more than one or two in there at a time) may had been preoccupied but she possessed instincts that were honed to a level one of the Herd could never dream of understanding. It kinda sucked sometimes... to be enjoying a moment of nostalgia and reminiscing then all of a sudden a booming thought in your head screamed 'hey, pay attention, bogey on your 3 o'clock'.

She turned to face him, her lips curling into an enticingly polite greeting. He was, wow. Handsome, rugged, well dressed, and was missing all but the 'I am so macho' t-shirt. She didn't mind, but still reasoned to herself that this L.A. 'Bad Boy' couldn't hunt, shoot a bow, spear a fish at thirty paces, or know how to make fire from ice if his life depended on it.

At least he was good looking.

"Hmm?" She asked, feigning like she needed clarification of the question despite hearing it clearly... like a lot of people do. Man, those people bugged her. "Oh, no." She waved away her sullen expression. "I just need some air, y'know? Having a great time, but all those people, and the heat? Ugh, it's nice to break away for a few seconds." She took a moment to rub her butt. "And I don't think my temper or my cheeks can handle one more hand print from those asshole football players. I've never wanted to punch anyone 'til I came to L.A."

She looked back out over the ocean. As the ocean breeze collected her untamed hair once more it found itself casually tucked behind her ear with a graceful motion of her hand. The same mesmerized looked took hold of her. "Then I just kinda, I dunno, got lost in the view. It's beautiful." Swiftly though she snapped from her trance. "Oh gawd, I'm sounding like such a flake, sorry."

"Um," She smiled, catching his mercurial silver glare with her own icy blue eyes. "Thanks for asking though. Very thoughtful of you."

[Owns-The-Night]

"No problem." Dec half-turned to face the girl, resting his hip against the railing. "I sympathise. L.A people bring some of the worst outta me too." He glanced out over the ocean, squinting slightly as though critiquing a piece of art. "View's good. Never saw the ocean before comin' to this town." His lips quirked in a faint smile. "First time I stood on Santa Monica pier and saw the sunset I was all 'Wow!' The moon on the water there is even more so." He shrugged and looked back at the blonde, smile widening. "Nothin' flakey about takin' time to appreciate somethin' most don't bother to."

She smelled divine. There was the floral fruity scent of the perfume, of course, but that wasn't worn as overpoweringly as most women, who seemed to spray the stuff on with a hose. Admittedly, there was some relativism there: Dec's nose was sharp enough that he couldn't really stand strong perfumes or colognes in great quantity, which was another reason he liked the balcony for the early stages of the party. Let the artificial scents fade and burn off somewhat with the night, then maybe he wouldn't have to breathe shallowly through his mouth when going to fetch a beer.

But this girl seemed to have a clue about perfume: the scent wafted rather than hammered at his senses. Dec approved - his own nod to wearing a cologne was a mild, alcohol-free, fancy mint-and-green-tea scent that cost waaay too fucking much, but smelled rockin' and at least didn't make his nose shut down in self-defence.

He also approved of the way she spoke her mind: straightforward and honest. "And yeah, the football jocks are assholes: no manners, and think the world wants to either kiss their ass or sleep with them. Go ahead and slug the next one: I'll stand on the touchline and cheer for ya." He grinned, white teeth gleaming as he offered her a hand. "Declan Perault. Friends call me Dec."

[Swara-Ann]

She laughed as she spoke, shaking her head while rolling her eyes a bit. "Oh god, no. I don't think I could actually hit one of them, those guys are huge get and an assault charge filed them nearly every season for beating the crap out of some girl they're dating. They're professionals." She shrugged, dismissing the thought of clamping down on their necks and demanding they beg for her forgiveness. "I'm not a tough girl, I just play one at parties so hot guys'll talk to me."

The look she offered was certainly flirtatious, but veiled well behind how casually honest she was being. Sure, Dec was hot... but so were about thirty other guys here. He did have a certain... she didn't know what... but a 'rawr' to him that kept her interested in talking more. She accepted his offer and was impressed by how firm his grip was. His hands were rough like he used them often; a man who actually worked in the City of Angels was something she found in rare supply.

"Swara-Ann Osbourne." She replied with a chipper squeak to her greeting and pearly white smile. "I know, it's a weird name, I hear it all the time. I'm a third generation Ekwokian, so it's a Yupik name." It was her turn to rest her hip against the railing, turning to meet her new 'friend' face to face. She offered him a mischievous grin as she leaned. "Now, if you can tell me what an Ekwokian is, or a Yupik, I'll be really impressed."

It was a bit unfair of her to pick on him like this. Most people in Los Angeles had no idea what a 'natural blonde' was, let alone something culturally significant as who the 'Yupik' were. But hell, she'd been slapped on the butt and hit on by over twelve guys tonight and it was getting a bit old. It was her turn to have a little fun at this Declan guy's expense. Any second now he'd get that glazed over look of confusion in his eyes and switch topics to about how his hair gel dried out his scalp and if she'd like to go to a concert sometime because he had tickets... what was up with every guy having concert tickets at these parties?

[Owns-The-Night]

"I dunno..." Declan said slowly as he studied Swara-Ann, eyes thoughtful and expression deadpan. "You seem a bit tall for an Ekwokian. And ain't they fuzzier, like teddy-bears?" He grinned at her, giving a one-shouldered shrug that was as close to an apology as he felt like giving for that stinker. "Sorry. You probably heard that one before, but I couldn't resist. I blame the beer." He held up his bottle as though it were an exhibit in a courtroom, then smiled and placed a hand over his heart.

"But in the spirit of the challenge, I'll take a wild leap of logic here. Yupik's the language, and Ekwokian's some kinda tribe, right?" He smiled, quicksilver eyes studying the pretty blonde girl questioningly. "I'm like one thirtysecond Salish or some shit, but then so's practically everyone in Montana, so that doesn't count for much."

[Swara-Ann]

Her soft laugh was a Siren's song: melodic and enchanting. "Okay, beer's a good excuse. Points for effort at least. Close though, Yupik is the tribe, Ekwok is the city I was raised in," She shrugged and sort of squinted a bit in thought as she rephrased her last comment. "Well, I suppose village would be more like it. I'm from Alaska, not a lot of highways up there."

"I'm not Yupik," she corrected, touching the tips of her fingers to her chest with one hand and spun a small lock of her blonde hair with her other. "Well, not really, honorary I guess you could say."

She slouched a bit, letting her elbow rest on the railing and support her. "Montana, huh?" She smiled and shook her head slowly and honestly wit ha slight bit of sarcasm. "Never been."

[109]

Dan found himself wandering back towards the bar, mostly in search of another beer and partially conversation. His buzz was good at this point, and he was ready for a second round of socializing. He slowed to a stop when he caught a glance at the guy from before. All it took was one look at him and that shiver with the hairs on the back of his neck. He wasn't even doing anything remotely suspicious or threatening, and Dan didn't even know what the feeling meant. It was just a raw feeling of potential action, someone that was dangerous inherently. What worried him wasn't the part of the odd feeling that made him uncomfortable and on edge. That felt surprisingly normal, instincts being fulfilled. No, what surprised and worried him was the underlying sense of familiarity with a complete stranger. Dan was done with booze for the moment, and found himself seeking elsewhere for companionship.

He had talked about it once or twice to the mental health folks after his first deployment. The odd feelings he got about people sometimes, the dreams, and everything else. Well, almost everything at least. They had told him it was just hyper vigilance due to the traumatic experiences he had. Later it was diagnosed PTSD when he talked to a civilian therapist after his second deployment, and for a while he believed them. When nothing seemed to be getting better, he stopped believing them and going altogether. He didn't need someone else to tell him what was wrong with him, and he could do a better job at fixing his own problems.

It wasn't like he got the feeling often, and for all he knew maybe it was just him unable to relax. He tried to shrug it off as much has possible. He was at a party, and he was going to enjoy it.

Then he felt it again. This time it was a different source, a blond by the balcony railing talking with a man he recognized as one of the grounds keepers. He had heard rumors, something about the guy being in some sort of black ops unit in the middle east. He wasn't sure how much of that he believed, but he could believe the guy was at least in the military. Not that he considered it was any sort of social club, but it was nice knowing he wasn't the only one around that had seen some shit.

It wasn't him that captured Dan's interest though. It was the girl he was talking to, who gave him the exact same odd feeling he had gotten earlier. Dan couldn't believe it was just hyper vigilance, not at this point. Now Dan found himself making his way down the stairs to the patio and rather hurriedly away from the sources of those odd feelings. Maybe he was just going mad, or maybe he really was getting some sort of odd vibe. Whatever it was, he felt a brief spike of fear if only for his own sanity. That fear brought back old fears, bubbling back from the back of his mind.

He found himself past the patio and taking a seat on the beach. He stared out into the ocean, taking a deep breath and just focusing on the waves. He refused to give in on the night just yet, that would just prove the point he needed therapy. Instead, all Dan needed was a moment with the oceans waves to clear his mind.

[Owns-The-Night]

Originally Posted By: Swara-Ann

"Montana, huh?" She smiled and shook her head slowly and honestly wit ha slight bit of sarcasm. "Never been."

"You ain't missing much. Though it did have a highway or two." Dec replied with a comfortable shrug. "I joined up to get outta there." He paused, his bright eyes distant for a moment. "The place was okay..." he said slowly. "Forests and mountains, clean air and good hunting. It was the people I had issues with." He focused on Swara and smiled crookedly. "Sometimes I ain't much of a people person."

"So what's a girl from Alaska doing in L.A?" he asked with a direct stare that was a little eerie, especially since the rest of him was so still. Unless he was deliberately emoting, Dec didn't move around much: no fidgeting, no shifting his weight. "School, work, or hoping to break into the movies?" he asked with another slight grin.

[Sarah Dead-Wolf]

And everything had been going so well.

A potential meal and possible short-term companion, a party full of alcohol-befuddled mortals, a beautiful moon and roaring sea... and then it all came crashing down.

She remembered Jeremy. Oh, how very, very well she remembered him and his club and the night of utter unreality that had transpired after tasting his inhuman blood. Her word had been given to stay away from his club, and in short order she'd found out that her word really was her bond on that matter. So much so that even when the odd compulsion had gone away last fall, she'd continued to give the place a wide berth.

And now, here he was, withholding her mortality prop and spouting her full name to all and sundry.

The smile she'd crafted fell away into a grimace followed immediately by a deadly glare; in an even and quiet voice that held all the pleasantness of an oiled blade, she simply said, "Jeremy. I'm making an exception tonight; I'll take the beer."

[z-Shane O'Neally]

Originally Posted By: Sarah O'Neally

"Well let it never be said that I turned down a beer from a polite gentleman," she said with a grin. "Especially one named Shane, since that was my brother's name." Gesturing toward the bar, she said, "lead on, cowboy."

Originally Posted By: Jeremy Noctis

Of course, this woman in denim he remembered, even after a couple of years. Hard to forget getting your blood drunk by a vampire. "Heh. Sarah O'Neally. I forgot you didn't drink."

A brother named Shane?... Sarah O'Neally... Sarah O'Neally!?

He couldn't believe his ears... didn't dared to believe.

"Sarah?", he croaked looking at her as if he saw a ghost.

"Sarah O'Neally?", he repeated reaching out to her with his hands resting them on her shoulders.

"It's me, Shane... I... I can't believe this...", he was overjoyed having found her finally.

"Sarah!", he wanted to draw her closer into a tight embrace his joy overwhelming him after so much grief and loss he has been through in the past months.

This is a dream... oh please let it be real

[Sarah Dead-Wolf]

As Shane grabbed her by the shoulders, Sarah's expression shifted from deadly to horrified.

"What in hell do think you're doing? Who are...."

And then, a very large sledgehammer of realization smashed into the vampire's brain.

For a moment, Sarah was eight again. Little face pressed up against her bedroom window, tears running down both glass and skin, she watched as her brother was taken away. He was her only friend, the one member of her family who treated her like more than an abject failure, and now he was leaving, his own tear-stained face looking back from the rear window of the pickup truck as it disappeared in a cloud of dust.

That was nineteen years ago. And now standing before her....

She shook her head frantically. "You can't be him. You can't be. You're..."

He's what? Dead? You always assumed it, didn't you? They never said so, but you figured that was why he never came home again. Face it, Sarah: you gave up on your brother.

The hard swallow was out of a lifetime of habit rather than any true need, the slight tremor that developed a remnant of what would have been a biological imperative a few years earlier. But the hope in her whispered voice was genuine. "Shane?"

[Swara-Ann]

Originally Posted By: Owns-The-Night

"You ain't missing much. Though it did have a highway or two." Dec replied with a comfortable shrug. "I joined up to get outta there." He paused, his bright eyes distant for a moment. "The place was okay..." he said slowly. "Forests and mountains, clean air and good hunting. It was the people I had issues with." He focused on Swara and smiled crookedly. "Sometimes I ain't much of a people person."

"Yeah, I know the feeling. I like people, I love people, but sometimes I just need a break. Me time, y'know?" She perked up a bit getting almost bouncy. "You hunt? No way. I love hunting. I took down my first brown bear when I was sixteen with the Bowtech Guardian my dad got me for Christmas. Set at only seventy pounds I made a clean kill at seventy five yards. It was awesome. Best day of my life." She took a moment to catch her breath. "Well, except the day I learned to swim, but that was more necessity than anything else... I was kinda drowning at the time." She shrugged it off like those sorts of life lessons happened to her all the time.

Quote:

"So what's a girl from Alaska doing in L.A?" he asked with a direct stare that was a little eerie, especially since the rest of him was so still. Unless he was deliberately emoting, Dec didn't move around much: no fidgeting, no shifting his weight. "School, work, or hoping to break into the movies?" he asked with another slight grin.

"Movies?" She laughed slightly, almost snorting. "I can't act to save my life. Wish I could, it might have gotten me out of a ticket last week. Besides, my boobs are real and I have a personality... I'd never fit in." She offered a glossy pink smile and kept his stare. It was strange, something about him tingled the primal parts in her brain but she wasn't sure what it was about him that set her off. She chalked it up to not having met anyone interesting since she arrived in L.A. She missed home, and as mush she valued her education and the opportunity college provided her... she'd rather have been hunting moose. "It's school, I confess. I'm the only one in my family ever to go, and the only citizen of Ekwok to ever get a scholarship, so it's pretty cool. I guess I feel I owe it to all my friends and family back home not to screw this up, y'know?"

The lovely blonde let him process that and hesitantly followed up with a bashful question. She didn't want to pry, but he'd made mention of it and was curious. "Um, you said you 'signed up'? Did you serve in the military?"

[Owns-The-Night]

"Army." Declan replied laconically. "Signed my life away on my 17th birthday and fast-tracked my ass into the Rangers when my sergeant said I should try for it." He opened his mouth as though to continue, paused, then considered Swara-Ann. She was a moose-hunting gal from Alaska - somehow he doubted she was a vegan peacenik. "It was a good life. Hard work, but good, y'know? Did my thing in Iraq, made First Sergeant. Then..." He gestured with his free hand as though trying to conjure words, brow furrowing in concentration as the habitually terse young man tried to express himself better, his eyes dropping. It was easy to feel shame at the circumstances surrounding his Change - he'd gone from hero to zero in his brotherhood's eyes. Being a Vargr rocked on so many levels, but it had taken away something precious too. And having to pretend to be crazy was enough to make a guy almost feel crazy for real.

Of course, Dec mused, by human standards he probably was crazy.

"Somethin' went wrong in my head, I guess." He told Swara quietly. "Went crazy in Afghanistan - hearing things, seeing things. I flipped out, went nuts, suffered violent rages. All that fun stuff. The docs slapped me in a V.A. hospital ward here for a few months, then had me on a short leash for another 9 months, and finally gave me my discharge." Dec took a deep breath, looking out to sea for a moment before meeting Swara's eyes again. It was hard to lie to her: it had been hard to lie to everyone. But telling the truth would have been harder still. Hey guys, I'm not really crazy, I'm just a werewolf. Those Afghani fighters? Yeah, I tore them up and ate a few. Seemed like the thing to do... He shrugged again, giving Swara a lopsided smile.

"So now I work as the groundskeeper at UCLA and have to check in with a shrink every 4 months to make sure I'm not about to climb a belltower with a rifle." He took a swig of his beer, affecting nonchalance whilst fully expecting the girl to back away slowly. "It's a livin'."

[Jeremy]

Jeremy raised an eyebrow at the sudden recognition and display between 'Shane' and Sarah, and decided that this was worth a mental note or a dozen. But rather than interrupt the touching event, he merely pulled out a pen and a business card, which he always kept handy, and scribbled a note on the back.

Then he leisurely got up, and walked by Sarah, pressing both the can and the note underneath into her hand firmly, and then continuing to head off, back in the direction of the patio outside.

Click to reveal.. (Sarah's Note)

It was what you did, not who you are that bothered me that time two years ago, for secrecy and because it's not easy on the eyes. Nothing personal. Anyway, enjoy your beer, and you owe me for reuniting you with the person you seem close to.

Honestly, he did at that moment envy Sarah. Who was and could be reunited with the person she loved, in the fraternal, familial or romantic sense. He could not, as an effect of the time differences inherent in Arcadia and Earth. It was impossible.

As he re-entered the shades of night, he moved to the railing and leaned on the railing, he observed a whisper of his mien floating around himself. Reminders of what he had lost, heard and seen.

"You seem quiet tonight." The voice, and a momentary sight that confirmed the speaker, he recognized as Cal, his old friend and fellow escapee. Whose father was his benefactor to boot. To the mortal and supernaturals unable to pierce the Wyrd's covering miens, he was a dark-haired college student with a somewhat pretty boy look that was actually damn attractive to those of the proper orientation.

Jeremy could see the pointed ears, the curves of the eyes, things that presented a more elvish appearance, and his hair was filled with black, gray, and silver strands in an amazing pattern. "What's up?" The Darkling queried of the Fairest Shadowsoul. Cal's expression turned slightly bothered, with a curving of the lips.

"Summer folks want to set an example. Of vampires and the like. For our protection, they say. They're dead set themselves, but they're hawking it to the other courts."

Jeremy snorted with contempt. "Idiots. Their glory balls are gonna get torn off. Who's going to help them?" Cal grimaced with annoyance. "No one, but they aren't going to be dissuaded. You know these things."

"Yeah..." Jeremy admitted with a scowl at the chest-thumping blindness of the Summer Court. With an incident recently between a changeling-vampire attempted deal, the Summer Court wanted to strike back. And the disorganized state of LA meant that if they wanted a war, they could start one.

As Cal nodded, then excused himself to talk to some girls, Jeremy turned back and reflected at the mess that this place could be sometimes.

[Swara-Ann]

Originally Posted By: Owns-The-Night

"Somethin' went wrong in my head, I guess." He told Swara quietly. "Went crazy in Afghanistan - hearing things, seeing things. I flipped out, went nuts, suffered violent rages. All that fun stuff. The docs slapped me in a V.A. hospital ward here for a few months, then had me on a short leash for another 9 months, and finally gave me my discharge."

"Uhh..." She seemed a bit flustered at his honesty, unsure of how to reply to him. "Riiiiight.... I was expecting a boot camp story and an invite to a concert or something you might have tickets to. 'Hi, I'm a nut job who went crazy in the Army and got booted for being a schizo so now I tend to my therapy garden...' Still sort of has me off guard a bit." She winced a bit, hoping not to offend but at the same time being possessed of small town Alaskan girl social ability, she just hit him with the truth. "I'm sure you're a nice guy, and an excellent Gardner, but you probably should have saved that bomb until like... date two or three. Honestly, I'm sitting here wondering if you're going to follow me to my dorm now and later I'll wake up in a tub of ice with you gnawing on my kidney. Not the best ice breaker I've heard, I'll give ya that."

Figures. She smiled and regretted not having any friends at this party to rescue her from Declan 'Spear Finger' Perault... scourge of the L.A. kidneys. Of course I meet a guy, of course he's half way decent and of course he's a nut job kidney cannibal. My. Life. Blows.

There was an awkward silence for a moment followed by an even more awkward smile. "Okay... I seriously have no idea what to say now..."

[Owns-The-Night]

He turned to lean on the rail looking out to sea, face expressionless. "I like to get the bad stuff out of the way right away. No point me stringin' someone along like I'm Joe Normal for 2 or 3 dates then *wham*, hey honey, guess who you've been in the dark at the back of a theatre with." Or WHAT you've been sitting in the dark with... "That way if there's any strangeness people can understand. Maybe. And if they can't, then they ain't the right person and nobody's hopes get gutted." He glanced sideways at Swara, his features still impassive.

"Me not tellin' you about my not-too-distant past, assuming we dated, would be buildin' on a deception. Stuff like that, a body needs to know about up front." He started to chuckle, a low rumbling sound that indicated ironic amusement at some joke only he could see. "Trust me, I -am- holding some good stuff back for later dates, but it's real stuff. The shit I just told you? It's window dressing." He waved a hand dismissively as he took another drink, then grinned wryly at her.

"And no, I ain't interested in nibblin' your internal organs. Or makin' myself a Swara-suit, or wearing your hair, or any number of other sick shit things. Take it from me - your skin looks better on you than it would anywhere else. Look frail, I had a breakdown: I didn't turn into Ted Bundy. So..." He turned to look out to sea again. "Assumin' you ain't going to back away slowly and go buy a gun, and we're continuing this conversation: what are you studyin'?"

[Swara-Ann]

She thought for a moment about what he said until her lips stretched into a frown and she nodded. Turning to face sea Swara looked out over the ocean along with him. Honesty was rare, but it was also the simplest way to pass off a deception too: people sometimes either think the truth a joke or come to always expect honesty. He was, however, interesting to talk too and assuming his speech wasn't bullshit, took the time to be blunt with her. Besides, if things went south and he turned out to be an asshole, she could so kick his ass.

"Life sciences." She said suddenly, his cue that apparently the conversation would continue. "Biology and botany mostly. They're not required for going into a career with Wildlife Resources, but they don't have a 'Wildlife Resources' class..." she shrugged, still mad there was no 'Park Ranger' class she could take to skip some of the B.S. involved with pursuing her career choice. "So I winged it. Interesting stuff though."

[z-Shane O'Neally]

Originally Posted By: Sarah O'Neally

The hard swallow was out of a lifetime of habit rather than any true need, the slight tremor that developed a remnant of what would have been a biological imperative a few years earlier. But the hope in her whispered voice was genuine. "Shane?"

His response couldn't have been more immediate and embarrassing. Instead of answering her he hugged her again and lifted her of the ground for a few seconds before placing her down again.

"Sarah! I can't believe I finally found you...", he hastily said his hands still resting gently on her shoulders. All the pain he felt of his grief was gone for the moment and he felt free again after this long time of playing hide and seek. Of course she didn't know what happened but that wasn't important right now. All that counted was that he found her - everything else could be sorted out.

"Is there a place we can go and talk? If not I got my pick-up parked a few miles down the beach.", he gave her a smile like a little boy, like someone who knew true happiness. If this was a scam or trap of some kind someone was a really good actor.

[Sarah Dead-Wolf]

Still in a state of near-shock, Sarah tried to figure out what on earth to do from here.

That this was her long-lost brother was clear. If nothing else, she could see it in his eyes. Why he had been gone for so long was anyone's guess; he'd ostensibly been taken in anticipation of a very early First Change, but his failure to return threw that into question.

None of that changed the other problem: that Sarah was now something different entirely, and that this reunion could very quickly turn ugly when the truth inevitably came out.

She looked around at the surrounding party, and decided that her brother - how strange that word sounded to her - was right: this would need to continue in private. Too much needed to be said that could not be said around so many listening ears. And if Shane reacted badly... well, best to spare the gathered mortals his rage.

Nodding, she finally said, "That's a great idea. Let's head to your truck; it's as good a place as any, I think."

With that, brother and sister left behind the festivities of the Chez Casa Hunt.

[continued in Siblings]