Ian Lai
Typically, Sunday nights at Beta Club weren't
exactly bustling with clientele. But this was labor day weekend, which
meant that Sunday was the new Saturday and a lot of the clubs downtown
were having White Parties - Beta included. They even had a special
guest tonight, some quasi-famous singer who'd been performing earlier on
the main stage. As the hours drifted by, she eventually finished her
set and the house DJ took over.
The club - it was big. Spacious
and multi-leveled and presently about half full with a reasonably sized
crowd of dedicated patrons, most of whom were dressed (you guessed it)
in white. Ian... now, he liked to hover on the darker end of the
spectrum most of the time (it suited him better) but he'd made an
exception tonight, and was presently dressed in a pair of skinny white
slacks and a white suit-vest that hugged tight to his otherwise bare
torso. Someone had scrawled a detailed and elegant design in some kind
of ink that glowed under black-light all along his left forearm.
At
present, he was standing at the bar waiting for a drink, leaning
against one hip as he watching the throng of dancers nearby. The sound
of some trippy electronic song with a heady rhythm permeated the air
like a second heartbeat, pulsing against his eardrums. He'd been
dancing most of the evening, and beads of sweat decorated his skin and
dampened his hair. As he let his breathing slow, he reached up to swipe
the back of his hand across his forehead.
Kalen
[Nightmares-before I forget]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 6, 7, 8) ( success x 3 )
Kalen
Kalen
stays at the edges of the club, watching people moving and dancing and
talking. He is dressed all in white, which makes him look more tanned
and brings out the pale green of his eyes. His hair is only barely
darker than his clothes.
He makes no move to join the dancers,
just watches with cool, appraising eyes. The cane held loosely in one
hand as he leans back into the wall gives a good indication of why he
isn't interested in dancing, but he doesn't seem particularly interested
in company either.
Ian Lai
[Per+Awareness]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (3, 4, 4, 6, 6) ( success x 2 )
Ian Lai
There
was a certain feel to places like this. A hum and resonance of life
and energy and alcohol and sweat and pheromones. Amid all that, Ian
hadn't noticed the spark of stormy tension hovering at the periphery -
but he noticed it now. It hovered, ominous and destructive, over his
shoulder like a dark cloud waiting to break into thunder and rain. When
his water arrived, he slipped some cash to the bartender and uncapped
the bottle, tipping back his head to chug about half of it in one go.
When he was finished, he recapped it and glanced over at Kalen,
watching him with a calmly interested expression.
Maybe Kalen had
already seen Ian on the dance-floor. Maybe he'd noticed that Ian danced
like he was made for it - like he'd been doing it all his life (was
possibly professionally trained.) Maybe he'd noticed that sometimes he
closed his eyes and tilted back his head and just got lost, and that the
play of lights and shadows on his face made him look even more
picturesque than usual.
Or maybe he hadn't seen him at all. It was a big place, after all.
In
any case, Ian saw him. And after a few minutes of contemplation, he
lifted away from the bar and strode toward where Kalen stood at the
wall.
"Meeting someone, or just people-watching?"
Kalen
[Per + Aware]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (2, 7, 7, 8, 9, 9) ( success x 5 )
Kalen
"I
was bored," Kalen says, soft and distant. He gives Ian a second look,
frowning very slightly. It's an appraising look certainly, but one
which seems to have nothing to do with his body. Or his outfit. It may
have something to do with the way he moves, but that interest is purely
about where Ian might be moving to and nothing more.
"Or perhaps I
meant to meet you." The tone remains the same, no real warmth or even
much interest, which is an odd fit to the actual words he just spoke.
"I have no idea."
Ian Lai
"Ah, you're one of
those," he countered with a sliver of a smile. There was a cool and
curious cast to Ian's dark eyes - watchful and measured. The design on
his arm still glowed softly white in the ambient spill of UV light from
the dance floor, its lines curling and twisting up the length of his
arm. His clothes had the same glow - as did Kalen's.
"Can you dance?"
He
glanced at the cane in Kalen's hand and nodded toward it, taking a step
closer. The two of them were of equal height, but Kalen's slouch left
his eyes an inch or two lower than Ian's. "Or should I buy you a
drink?"
It was difficult to tell if Ian was hitting on him or not.
So far his tone and body language seemed fairly neutral. Maybe he was
just curious to get to know another Awakened personality. Maybe, like
Kalen, he hadn't yet decided what he wanted.
Kalen
"No,"
he says, immediately and flatly, though there is a slight pause after
as if something occurs to him. "Dancing would be...ill-advised." It
is, perhaps, meant as a correction.
He smiles, very faintly. "A
drink...I will accept." There is a slight emphasis on the 'a' but he is
certainly much more willing to drink than to dance.
Ian Lai
A drink it would be, then. Ian nodded and shrugged lightly, as though to say: fair enough.
Then he tilted his head toward the bar and turned to lead them toward
their destination. He wasn't sure how quickly Kalen could move (given
whatever reason he might need that cane,) so he kept his pace slow,
glancing over his shoulder once as they passed through the crowd.
The
bar was busy when they got there, but Ian found a clear spot toward the
far end and took up residence there, setting his half-empty bottle of
water on the counter as he sat down. One of the two bartenders nodded
their way to indicate that he'd be over to help them in a moment. Ian
took the moment to introduce himself properly, once Kalen had situated
himself.
"I'm Ian, by the way." He offered his hand to shake.
Kalen
Kalen
does, in fact, walk slowly. He doesn't seem overly concerned about it,
particularly now when there is no reason to hurry. The bar isn't going
anywhere. He sits carefully, then resettles into a slightly more
natural position a second later.
When Ian extends a hand he
reaches out to shake easily enough. "Kalen," he says. His eyes settle
mostly on Ian, although they still flick over the crowd (and the exits)
now and again.
Ian Lai
Kalen's level of alertness
to their environment wasn't especially uncommon or surprising, given the
kinds of lives the Awakened tended to lead. Neither of them had any
idea how dangerous the other might be. Ian didn't look especially
intimidating, if one gauged intimidation by things like physical bulk
and facial scarring (neither of which Ian possessed.) He was in good
shape, to be sure, but his body was lean rather than imposing. And he
was young. Probably somewhere around the legal drinking age.
But he felt and moved and somehow looked... like a predator. Elegant and Cunning oh-so-very feline.
His
hand was fine-boned, manicured and un-calloused. It would probably be a
fair guess to assume that his was not a life of hard manual labor.
When the bartender approached, Ian released Kalen's grip and turned
toward the third man with a wry and pleasing smile. "I'll have a
bourbon. Knob Creek. And his drink's on me." This time, when he
pulled out his wallet he passed a debit card across the glass for the
bartender to start a tab.
Ian waited until after the bartender had
finished pouring their drinks and moved on to other patrons before he
turned to Kalen and asked, "How long have you been in Denver?"
Kalen
"Same,"
Kalen says to the bartender with no real thought. Or hesitation. He
must have preferences or actual direction about something, there is far
too much alertness and wariness for him to just be drifting completely.
Of course, it is possible he also likes bourbon, though the order
sounds absent enough the tone alone doesn't even indicate he registered
what he's ordering.
Ian's question receives, to all appearances,
only slightly more attention. "I got into town...five days ago?" He
seems to actually have to think about it now, like he can't make sense
of the time for some reason, but then he just gives a very slight shrug.
"Something like that. It seems interesting enough, so far."
"What
do you do?" For work? Recreation? As a drug of choice? There really
isn't any indication in what context he's asking the question.
Ian Lai
Ian
took a sip of his drink while Kalen pondered an answer, watching him
over the rim of his glass. It was a good bourbon. Not premium quality,
but high enough that it went down with a smooth finish. When he set
the glass down, Ian pressed his lips together and ran his tongue between
them thoughtfully.
"I do a lot of things. If you mean: what do I
do for a living..." he paused a moment and smiled out of one side of
his mouth. "I'm a model. What about you?"
Kalen
Kalen
takes a sip of bourbon and sighs. There is better whiskey in the world
than Knob Creek, certainly, but Knob Creek isn't without its charm. He
swirls the glass absently and then sets it down.
"What do I do?" He smirks. "That's complicated, but largely involves investments of one kind or another."
Ian Lai
"I've got time. Tell me about it."
One
had to imagine the a young fashion model in a night club wearing two
parts of a white suit and a glowing temporary tattoo on his arm probably
had other things he could be doing besides listen to a stranger talk
about what he did for a living. But by all accounts, Ian seemed
genuinely interested. Whether it was simple curiosity or some real
interest on his part wasn't really clear. His motives could be hard to
gauge. Regardless, he pivoted in his chair and leaned an elbow against
the bar, affecting a more relaxed pose.
Kalen
"It
seems, sometimes, as if everyone I meet here believes I was drawn to
Denver to tell you stories." Kalen says, though there is just the
faintest trace of amusement in the tone. He takes another sip of
whiskey and lets his pale green eyes half close for a few seconds. "The
basic concepts are like any, I suppose. You develop a knack for buying
low and selling high, whatever you happen to be buying or selling at
the time."
"The occasional side ventures are a story for another
time. And are currently off the table for an as yet undetermined
period of time." The corners of his mouth flick upward into a smile,
very slightly and very briefly. "Much better stories, but for another
place."
Ian Lai
"Spoken like a Capitalist," Ian
replied with an ambiguous tone and a wry curl of his lips. He looked
for a moment like he might press further. There was a softly
challenging expression in his eyes, as though to imply that he knew
Kalen was being cagey (that most people didn't describe their job titles
in such loose and inspecific terms) but... well. It takes one to know
one.
"So why were you drawn to Denver? Business? Love? Curiosity?"
Kalen
Kalen
opens his mouth, probably to say yet another absolutely meaningless
thing that will serve as a transition to something else, but then he
stops. "I was tired of moving," he says, after perhaps another ten
seconds. "And so I stopped."
He drains the rest of his glass and
sighs, waving over the bartender. "This conversation already needs more
drinks. I'll get this one, what do you want?" Well, so much for a drink.
Ian Lai
At
the suggestion of another round, Ian grinned and finished off his
bourbon. "I'll have the same." He raised his eyes to the
bartender to indicate that he was both answering and ordering.
"I think if I was going to stop somewhere, it probably wouldn't be here. But the landscape is nice."
He eyed Kalen for a long moment, like he was pondering something.
"I guess some of the people are pretty to look at, too."
Kalen
"Two more then," Kalen says to the bartender. He does not offer a card, sliding cash across the bar instead.
He
seems about to comment as regards the location when Ian gets to the
part about pretty people and shakes his head slightly. "Inadvisable,
kitty-cat," he says with a laugh. "Perhaps somewhat endearing, but
definitely inadvisable."
Ian Lai
Ian just smiled
at that, like he'd been expecting it. He didn't seem especially put
off. (The pet name got a tiny little twitch from the muscle in his jaw,
but otherwise went without response.)
"Ill-advised, hmm. And why would that be?"
His
tone and body language were relaxed - curious, but not pushy. There
was no particular sense of this being a topic which held investment for
him. More like... the way that a child might press at different buttons
on a new toy to find out how it would react.
Kalen
"File
that one along with the others in stories for another time." Kalen
says, but at least the tone indicates there is a good possibility of
another time. He sips at his new drink.
"What about you? How long have you been here?"
Ian Lai
"A couple of weeks," he admitted after some consideration. "Slightly longer than you." There was a faint smile at that, and he raised his glass to take a drink. Just as the lip of the vessel touched his mouth, he paused, his eyes fixed on some distant point across the club. (As though he'd spotted something of interest.) After a moment of consideration, he downed the remainder of the contents and set the now-empty glass on the bar.
"I'm afraid I'm being beckoned back to the dance floor. But you... should give me your number. In the interest of storytelling, of course."
If Kalen agreed, Ian would take out his phone and add him to his contacts. If not, he'd shrug and let the matter be. Either way, he thanked Kalen for the drink and smiled in this perfectly alluring pose - as though to make some promise of (ill-advised) things to come. Then he bid his goodbye and slipped off once more to disappear into the throng of dancers.
