VIII-A Hallowe'en Mentality (Open)

[Ryan D'Alteau]

Everything about you is how I'd wanna be.
Your freedom comes naturally.
Everything about you resonates happiness.
And I won't settle for less.

"Of course I do, Shelly."

Well, that was certainly a good sign. If Adele could recognise her despite her wig and the Loki costume, then Ryan would have no issues with doing the same. With nowhere to put her staff without it being damaged, she had continued to hold onto it, clutching it in her left hand while she mingled. On the bright side, it helped to accentuate the imposing look of her costume, making her look like the diabolical trickter she was portraying. "Miss Johessman and I were just discussing the wedding."

While she may not have known Dakari beyond the previous Hallowe'en party, Michelle knew it wasn't her place to determine who should and shouldn't be allowed to attend the party. If Adele had deemed the casino proprietor worthy of the privilege, then she was worthy. It was as simple as that. Due to the unique way in which their relationship worked - and the things Ryan had allowed Adele to do to him that night - she doubted that even her first ex-boyfriend would have much of a say in the guests his future wife chose to invite.

"That's great!", she replied enthusiastically, with a decidely un-Loki-ish smile. Unless the hosts had decided to organise a costume contest in which they had to act like the characters they had chosen to depict, Michelle saw no harm in being her outwardly optimistic self. If anything, it took her mind away from her own troubles. "Are you two any closer to finalising a date, then?" The last time she had been present during a discussion about their wedding, it was apparent to her that Ryan and Adele had planned just about everything apart from the date of the ceremony.

The service would be a small, private affair, accommodating little more than family and close friends, and would be situated on the beach a short distance away from the Maigny villa in Saint-Tropez. In the movies and on television, beach weddings were, to Michelle, the epitome of romantic settings; their vows punctuated by the tide as they stood on the sand in their full wedding outfits, with everyone's eyes upon them. She had some suggestions of her own, but hated to tread on the doctor's toes. She was sure that Adele would choose what she felt was best.

"I'd love to have you as one of my bridesmaids." As Adele signalled for one of the wait staff to pay her a visit, Michelle found herself stuck for words. Although Ryan would have loved to have her at the ceremony, it was Adele's decision to determine who would accompany her down the makeshift aisle. The fact that the woman who had introduced herself by garroting her with a necklace was now asking her to accompany her through the pre-wedding rituals, getting dolled up like a princess in order to look perfect as a bridesmaid while encouraging Adele that everything would be fine, was almost too outrageous to be true. "Since it will be such a small ceremony, there will probably only be two of you."

"I..." With the server in position, Adele swiped one of the glasses of wine from the tray and handed it over to Michelle, who was already wondering what her bridesmaid's dress would look like. While she wasn't going to be attending Ryan's wedding as the bride, it was a lot better than nothing. Eventually, she thought, the doctor might be persuaded to someday return the favour. "I would love to. Thank you." With the glass in her hand, Michelle took a sip of its contents. For the time being, she was more than content to talk about the wedding with Adele and Dakari. Maybe today would be the day where wedding plans would be made in secret, just to give Ryan a surprise...

Give me all the peace and joy in your mind.
I want the peace and joy in your mind!

"Well hello, Ryan and your lovely friend..."

Oh, shit.

Almost unwilling to turn and face the source of the voice, Ryan's eyes closed as he let out a small sigh. Over the past couple of months, he had become very familiar with the voice that had decided to speak his name. What made things all the worse was that she was now in the condo at the same time as Sophie Nystrom - another of his mentors. As far as he was aware, it was the first time the two of them had met and, even if it wasn't, it was certainly the first time they'd done so in his company.

The long-eared, jet black cowl of his Batman costume - rather mercifully - helped to adequately shroud the onset of his despair as he smiled politely at Maurelle. Dressed in what looked like the expensive - and rather sexy - attire of a Baroque French courtier, complete with a large wig and a masquerade mask mounted on a golden stick, Ryan couldn't help that his employer's costume seemed strangely fitting, given her heritage. "I'm not late, am I?"

Was there really such a thing as "late" in their parties? Even when the chaos had started in their last attempt, there were still guests arriving at the front door. Even though he and Adele weren't the official hosts this time around, Ryan saw it as his duty - as the co-habitant of the venue - to at least shoulder some of the burden. "Uh... no! Y'ain't late at all," He was only vaguely aware of the time the party had been scheduled to start. For all he knew, everyone present had arrived early.

"Anyway, uh... 'ave you two met?" With Sophie having dashed away to talk to her fellow Mass Effect cosplayers, Ryan was now left alone with Maurelle and Sophie's girlfriend, Adrianna. "This is Maurelle Lacroix; my boss at work. Maurelle, this is, uh..."

"Adrianna Kilvayne."

Kilvayne. Ryan had heard the name before. He was certain that one of the members of GEIST had been a Kilvayne. Aside from the name seeming to crop up at random, he knew next to nothing about the family other than his assumption that they were a high-profile one and that one of the male members of the family owned Some Big Company. He forgot which and, given that everyone was here to have fun, it didn't really matter.

"Anyways, there's server's goin' 'round with drinks an' food. Or, if y'don't fancy the wine they've got, y'can just use th'bar we've got set up." The bar in question sat at the side of the large room, away from as much furniture as possible and situated in the spot with the most amount of extra space. Already, it was manned by a pair of vampires and half the female cast of the Mass Effect trilogy. "No need t'worry about money, either. Everything's already been paid for. So go wild, if y'want. Just don't throw up on th'carpet or Adele'll go ballistic. Trust me, y'don't want that. Anyway, I'm sure we'll talk later, Maurelle."

Allowing Adrianna and his boss to go about their own business, Ryan left their side and surveyed the scene once more. Everyone, it seemed, was busy mingling with someone. Even Adele, who had been swayed by Thomas Kroner and went on a merry rampage the previous time around, was now standing a few metres from the bar, talking with Dakari and what looked like a female version of Loki from The Avengers. With the coat cut shorter and the undersuit now taking on the form of a dress, it was an accurate feminisation of a male-oriented outfit. Even the faceguard, with its curved horns, had been constructed with great care. The slender body of the wearer, however, was rather familiar and, as he drew closer, Ryan found out why.

"I would love to!"

"Shelly?", he asked, his lips spreading into a grin as his ex-girlfriend turned her head. With the wig hiding her blond hair beneath a layer of wavy, black locks, she - once again - looked remarkably different from the last time they had been face-to-face. With her hands full with a glass of wine and a short staff and her head restricted from much movement due to her desire not to impale people's eyes on her horns, Michelle quickly stopped herself from hugging Ryan.

"Hey, Ryan! Surprise!" From what she had gathered, Michelle was unsure as to whether Ryan knew the people that comprised the guest list for the party and, if her theory was correct and her ex-boyfriend hadn't had a hand in making it, she was at a loss as to why she had been invited in the first place. Regardless, she wasn't about to turn down the opportunity to attend a party at his house. "Like the costume, by the way."

"Thanks. It was Adele's idea. She said we should go as Batman and, uh... Talia."

"So that's who you are...!" Michelle smiled apologetically, turning to look at Adele. With Ryan portraying Batman, the doctor's ensemble made sense. Talia, after all, had appeared in the latest Batman movie and, from what little she knew about the universe, the daughter of the man who had given Bruce Wayne combat training had a bit of a crush on the Dark Knight.

Everything about you pains my envying.
Your soul can't hate anything.
Everything about you is so easy to love!
They're watching you from above!
______________________________Muse - "Bliss"

"That's a straw, Tali."

With Sophie approaching Nireva from behind, it was Jenna who spotted her first. With the chances of spotting another partygoer who had decided to cosplay as someone from Mass Effect being slim to none, Jenna's laughter was mostly of surprise. Until, that was, Sophie decided to respond to how Nireva was drinking her cocktail by referring to the emergency induction port as what it truly was: a drinking straw. Like the two of them, Sophie had clearly spent a lot of time putting her costume together, allowing every component of Commander Shepard's N7 battle armour to be crafted with meticulous precision.

Even the burning shade of red with which she'd dyed her hair for the evening had hit the mark. "Commander," she sighed playfully. Although she was hopeless at vocal impersonation, Jenna at least tried to make the effort to hide her true accent beneath a more generic American voice befitting a woman of higher education. After all, Liara was an paleontological researcher. "Perhaps you should be more considerate of Tali'zorah's circumstances."

In all honesty, the "Commander" looked pretty cute, too. Which was always a bonus. Turning around, Nireva withdrew the straw from her mouth, allowing the circular mouthpiece to flip back into place. "I'm sorry for my girlfriend," she remarked, the small light in her mouthpiece fluttering as the sound waves bombarded the circuit. Beneath the helmet, she was smirking. "She pretty much forced me - on pain of death - to make a female Shepard when I started playing because she's an utter fangirl."

"Dammit, Niri! I am not!" In response to her protest, Nireva could only cackle. Teasing was such fun, especially when her girlfriend was the victim. It made up for all of the times she had been hustled in drinking contests and the age-old pastime of Play Along To The Gameshow. "Besides, I didn't hear you complaining once you got to the romance scenes."

"Anyway..." Deciding to get things back on track before their mutual admiration of a polygonal female badass got the better of them, Nireva deflected Jenna's retort with a sigh and returned her attention to Sophie. "...my name is Nireva, though most people just settle for calling me Niri. And this is my girlfriend, Jenna. Want to join us? It'd be pretty doubtful, but we might wanna stick together in case someone shows up dressed as Miranda."

Possessing the voice of Yvonne Strahovski, Miranda Lawson was probably Nireva's least favourite of the female cast members. Everything about her had just screamed high-and-mighty; she had been the product of a genetically engineered embryo to grant her the best odds of being a physical and intellectual superior and, to make matters worse, she was an agent for the human supremacy group Cerberus, who seemingly mandated that she wear a figure-hugging jumpsuit as her uniform. Thankfully, Miranda had been programmed in the game to only be a valid romantic option for the male Shepards, leaving Nireva to get her own Shepard in bed with her favourite male character: the Drell assassin Thane Krios.

Nevertheless, the group would have needed a Miranda cosplayer to complete the set. Nireva had ended up stumbling across a group of Mass Effect cosplayers at Comic-Con who, rather surprisingly, didn't have a Tali amongst ther number. She had been more than happy to allow herself to be included in the picture and, given that the group were fans of the Shepard/Tali pairing, she had even posed in a few more romantic shots with their Shepard cosplayer; a college football player by the name of Carl. With his sports training rendering him rather muscular, he had the physique to pull off the costume rather well and, under the condition that she be sent a copy of the pictures, she had had no problems with embracing and kissing him as part of the act. Even Jenna had taken a liking to the pictures, though mostly for the fact she got to see her girlfriend looking rather hot as a purple-skinned alien in a tight suit.

"If you're into cocktails, the guy over there makes a pretty good caipiroska." Illustrating her point, she threaded the straw back through her mouthpiece and started to drink once more. "Though, Jenna will try and take the credit for it if she's sent to get it."

[Hatire Carrington]

To say Hatire was not amused by the going ons of the party would be a vast understatement. Hatire had expected vast displays of wanton consumerism and other such trivial things, but the lustful behavior of the attendees of this party was rather poor indeed. The promise of being the rock of consistency for Fallon was all that was keeping him from sighing greatly and teleporting himself back to their living quarters. Darn this loyalty thing.

That said, he was enjoying the company of Fallon's company, that which it was. If they were both honest, neither of them had a damn clue as to what her costume actually was, but she did ever pull it off. Maybe that was the, hrmm what was the word she used for it... oh socialite in her that brought out that confidence and swagger, or maybe it was just genuine. Whatever it was, it brought a certain calmness and fun nature to Hatire that let him even endure this rather disappointing evening.

Hatire pretended to know the people that Fallon pointed out to him as they made their way around the party. If she really wanted to know who these people were, she should have been using their screen names for her company's hosted chat room, alas that thought seemed to have escape his partner in crime for the evening. All the same, Hatire was guessing that she was feeling quite happy about the turn out as their was a good sense of enthusiasm bursting forth from her and a smile that he had not seen all too often, especially not since the return from New York.

"So a gathering of the aristocracy then? Maybe times really have not changed all that much in the last two hundred plus years." Hatire grinned, hoping she would find his attempt at a joke funny or at least amusing enough to fake a laugh.

The decor of the place did nothing for Hatire, but then his disdain for the night and those that had gathered here was not helping the matters. Perhaps in another event with more mundane of guests he could have appreciated the decor more, but in the current state, it was just another means of flashiness that could have had its money better spent.

As it was, Fallon was dictacting their movements as she suggested saying hello to the sportswoman and then went to do so before Hatire could agree or not. Well, it was not something he wasn't already accustomed to with months of living together under the same roof under his belt and that time spent at the institution. Perhaps he even needed to be lead a little, lest he wind up on another street corner begging of the mercy which was in seemingly short supply in this time. So he followed his date to the strangely regular dressed woman. "Good evening madam, I am Hatire, guest of the fair Fallon here. A pleasure to meet you.

Eliza was more than a bit awestruck to see someone at this shindig that realized who she was. With a crowd like this, she figured most of them would be too stuck up to even care about something like NASCAR. Maybe her agent was right and her presence in the championship really was pushing the edge of who was fan of the sport. At least for the moment, she was happy to have some fans here and hopefully someone she could relate to and talk to.

"You meet them in the strangest places. Eliza Hardt, but you already know that." Eliza said with a grin and checked out the pair. The woman was very oddly dressed and Eliza wondered if there really was a costume there or just odd pieces of clothing thrown together. The man looked like someone from a television show but she couldn't place who or what show it was.

"Strange little get together this is and to be honest, I think my invitation was a mistake meant for my older sister or mom. Not that either will stop me from having a good time mind you, I am here aren't I? And if you're here, you make good on the situation you are presented with. You get me?"

[Gabriel Constant]

Lives swallow the infatuation

A challenge. Jordan liked that. Of course, since he would be juggling so many minds at once, it was probably be inadvisable for him to try and enter Khalidah's mind at the same time. Then again, since when did he do things based on how advisable they were? No one else was at risk, in any case; part of his assignment was to make sure no one at the party came to any permanent harm, physically at least. He ran the risk of having a nosebleed or, at worst, passing out. Maybe falling into a coma. He had never pushed himself that far beyond his limit. But he was in a daring mood this night. Perhaps he would take Khalidah up on that challenge.

"I'd like to see you throw down maenad style. That'd make for an interesting night." Of course, Jordan was one of those types for whom "interesting" and "dangerous" were synonyms. Besides, he did not fear getting caught in the middle of anything so violent. He was a touch concerned that someone who was not supposed to might be injured, but Gabriel had foreseen everything this evening and already expected what would come to pass, so Jordan was in the clear there. Of course, both men understood that the future was ever-changing, as fickle as a woman.

As Khalidah suggested starting with the Solers, Jordan nodded and glanced over to the bar, waiting for an opportunity. In the meantime, he became aware that he was being approached by another guest.

---

Evil's in the stink of you

Looking up through dark, narrowed eyes, Jordan beheld the form of Lucius Kilvayne, dressed in the guise of Julius Caesar. The young man was well aware of who Lucius was, in many ways. Gabriel had made certain of that. Lucius was not to be harmed. The older man was wary of being in this place, after what had happened to his cousin under such similar circumstances. He was also wary of Jordan himself, and - Jordan noted with amusement - he had every right to be.

Unaware that Jordan had already taken a liberal glance into his mind, Lucius introduced himself, and Jordan shook his hand. A phantom and an emperor. They made an interesting pair. "It's an honor to finally meet you," Jordan said genuinely. "Gabriel spoke highly of you." He had; Gabriel seemed to truly love the man. That was interesting. Jordan knew Gabriel's mind well, and understood how difficult it was for Gabriel to allow himself to grow attached to anyone. Lucius must have been a truly rare sort.

"I'm well. Glad to see that everyone seems to be enjoying themselves. How are you this fine evening?" A smile had begun to light up Jordan's face, the sort of smile that displayed enjoyment and contentment. He was certainly going to enjoy himself tonight.

Something caught his eye, and he turned his attention away from Lucius for a moment just in time to see something sparkly fall into Evelyn's top. What happened next surprised even him, and he chuckled, his smile relaxing into a grin.

---

Prey on the masses
Conscience relapses
The less we think and more we drink
Our actions are casual
While sin sings a moan

The man had separated them. That had made her sad. Completely clueless as to the pheromones and their source, Evelyn took her actions to have been purely hers. She was naïve enough to confuse her intentions with the effects of outside stimuli. Skulking back to her place at the door, she changed her mind and snatched a drink from a passing tray, draining it as she stood in the middle of the room.

The empty glass was left on a nearby table, and Evelyn turned to look at Felicia again. The pheromones were wearing off, but she was still curious about the woman. Felicia seemed to notice, for she was looking Evelyn's way. By the time Evelyn realized why that was, the diamond was making a splendid arc through the air, and no sooner had she seen it than she lost it, as its glistening surfaces disappeared into her cleavage. "Oh," she meeped, wondering whether it would be appropriate to reach in and take out the diamond or what. Before she could really decide, Inaki was already on his feet and heading over to her, clearly intending to retrieve the diamond.

Oh no! She couldn't just dig into her bra in front of him. That would be rude and strange and uncomfortable. He introduced himself and then, before Evelyn knew what was happening, he had solved the problem for her… using his tongue. Surprised, the young woman stammered, flustered. This was certainly turning out to be some party. This was the strangest experience she had ever had, next to some of the nights she had shared with Jordan. With him she tended to do anything he wanted, things she had never imagined she would do. She always seemed to become a different woman when they were alone together.

"O-oh, okay." Her mind was still playing catch-up as Inaki drew her into a dance. Her steps were clumsy at first, but dancing did come naturally to her, and soon she was able to follow Inaki's lead. "So, um, are you two always like this?" Realizing how forward she had been, she blushed deeply. "I mean, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so rude."

---

Distance is safer than trust
Honestly honesty's a fable in love

Their discussion had been interrupted by the God of Mischief in female form, whose name Dakari was still not sure of. In response to Adele asking her about her passport, Dakari was nodding, and was going to explain that she had renewed it recently but for the presence of the other woman. Dakari did not like discussing anything around strangers. It was a habit she had picked up over time. So she remained silent as Adele extended an offer to the woman as well - the girl's name turned out to be Shelly - but gave a smile as Shelly accepted.

Occasionally, her glance slid over to Lucius. He was speaking with the Phantom of the Opera, or a reasonable facsimile of the same. She was not one of those women who needed to be with her man all the time, no. But she did enjoy looking at him. Suddenly, she felt the wish to talk to Adele alone; not that she disliked Shelly, for any friend of Adele's had to be of some value. But Dakari hardly knew the woman so far, and was not sure whether the girl would want to be part of the discussion.

She was going to take a risk by asking Adele something somewhat personal. She needed to gauge her own relationship by measuring it against the relationships of others. A foolish method to most, it was the only way Dakari knew of to try to begin figuring out what she felt, or how she should feel. Because she could not sort it out on her own.

Soon, Ryan joined them as well, and Dakari felt her opportunity slip away. Stepping back a bit, she allowed the three to talk - even Dakari had been able to recognize Adele's Talia, she thought with a sniff - and sipped at her drink. This was unusual behavior for the manageress. Usually, she liked to have a good share of the attention, but at the moment… she felt like fading out, melding into the background. She felt… sad. Unhappy.

By God, what was happening to her?

---

Now that you're subdued
I begin to weaken you

Fallon was feeling quite happy with the turnout. To see all these important figures was quite inspiring. She did not expect to be recognized herself - actually, that would have been a bad thing. But she did expect to be treated like the star she was. So far, Hatire was proving an excellent escort. He was clearly disappointed in the party, but he remained at her side, and made the best of things. She would probably come out of this owing him heavily.

As such, she laughed at his joke, though she did not completely get it. She offered a curtsy as Hatire introduced himself to Eliza. "I'm not even sure how the invitees were picked, but I'm glad I was," Fallon declared. "Just look at all the people here! There's something for everyone in this crowd. Business, sports, and…" Fallon frowned at the Mass Effect cosplayers. "…well, something new to learn about, I guess."

---

Shedding skin, I start to grin as malice becomes my fuel!

It began as a simple thought. A well-placed thought, one that would feel as natural as any other. Then a second, and a third. The reflexes were next, the natural responses of their minds to external stimuli. Their senses followed; everything seemed sharper and clearer, as a vampire's senses should. Soon, their imaginations would take over. They would make themselves into their roles.

Jordan was not the jealous type, especially not over Evelyn, whom he saw as a toy, a possession, just as one views a valuable but replaceable trinket; but he could not allow Inaki to simply slip his tongue all over his date with impunity, and so it was Inaki's mind that went first, followed quickly by Felicia's. There was nothing to give away Jordan's role in it, not even the slightest of glances.

Michelle was next. Jordan had always been partial to the Loki character. With a few tweaks here and there, the blonde would begin to act a little less bubbly and a little more like the Trickster. Her transformation would be gradual, as she was in the middle of talking with Adele and Ryan, who would surely notice if Michelle suddenly changed character. No, he would wait until he had also infected his hosts before he unleashed the full power of Loki upon the guests.

Finally, to cap off the first round, he went for Evelyn. Her mind was the most malleable thing he had ever come across. It was easy to slip into her mind and make her think she was Wonder Woman. She was gullible, easily fooled, open and trusting. All fallacies that Jordan loved to manipulate.

Two vampires, a Loki, and a Wonder Woman, he projected into Khalidah's mind, as Lucius was still too close by and would likely hear their conversation. Seems like a good start, don't you think? She would only need to think her response in order for Jordan to hear it, though she would have to "think" clearly for him to find it over all the noise.

He nodded slightly toward Fallon Daugherty. Since even she has no idea what she is dressed up as, we're going to make her our wild card. We'll make a set of rules.. So far, every time Batman twirls his cape, she'll have a hiccup fit. And every time you finish a drink, she'll lose a part of her costume. Any other ideas? he asked with a grin full of mischief.

[Helena Rahal]

Follow me into the abyss

It seemed that this Evelyn woman was easy to manipulate as she readily agreed to be his dance partner as he tried to make his wife jealous. Maybe in the back of his mind he knew that this entire thing was likely doomed to fail since his wife was who she was, but at least he'd have a life experience that did not involve nearly being killed, unlike all the other strange things that seemed to happen in his life. Hell, he wondered just what he did to piss off the cosmic gods that in fact soo much weird crap did go on in his life.

Inaki almost pitied this woman if she was indeed this easy to persuade, he life would be a complicated sort. People would pull her around like a puppet master wiggling the strings in their show and she following them just as well. People like Felicia who would do things simply for a laugh, to see just what they could get away with when the opportunity presented itself. It was not one of the qualities that Inaki admired about Felicia and Inaki hoped that Evelyn would walk away from the night seeing she needed to strengthen her resolve. Right now though, that problem was not his to address and so, he let it be.

Leading her into the dance, Inaki slowed his steps just enough to allow her to catch up and fall into a rhythm with him. He didn't speak but let his actions speak for him as he begin to dance a sultry salsa with the young woman. Her senses somewhat catching up to her in the heat of the moment, she began to ask her questions, but then immediately withdrew as if she had performed some horrible action by being curious. Indeed, this woman reminded him so much of himself before he had found his resolve these past few months. She would grow like he did, but it would not be an easy experience if his was anything to go by.

"She is, that wife of mine. Me, not so much, but if there are no rules for the night, then I might as well try to have a good time." Inaki said as he pulled her through a movement that brought her close against his body. Mmm, she smelled good, a fragrance that he could not really pick out, and it felt like he could almost hear her heartbeat when she was close. That just had to be his overactive imagination though.

As the dance ended, he felt strange somehow, as if he was only operating at a fraction of what his body was capable of. The smell of this place had gradually changed as well, to a sweet nector of a flavor, the hint of a glistening amount of fresh blood to taste if he felt the need. There would be no need to roll any of the women though, he was a sexy specimen of a man with a great amount of charm to boot. Who wouldn't let him have a nibble on their neck and a happy ending to his night, he was goddamed Henry Fitzroy, he would have his choice of the littler.

He brought a hand up to Evelyn's hair and brushed it backwards, revealing her tender neck and cleavage even more. Mmm, he would definitely like a taste of that and though he couldn't remember how he had gotten to this party, he was sure glad that this beauty had been his dance partner. Leaning in, he gave her a kiss for she was a beauty and a good dancer to.

"Thank you for such a wonderful dance. Care to join me for a drink as well and maybe a bite or two?" Yus, a bite or two, hopefully of the delicious blood that he smelled flowing beneath her skin.

[Felicia Soler]

“Ritual is a powerful thing. And calling forth that kind of energy has consequences.”

Babylon, AKA RyDele's Condo
South Padre Island, Texas

[dropcap]Something was missing from this party, and she couldn't quite put her finger on it. There were people, there was music, there were drinks. What was missing?

Oh. Right. A little bit of chaos.

Since neither Stefan nor Damon seemed to want to make an appearance with her, creating chaos was going to have to be an independent endeavour. The room that she was currently in along with the people who were also sharing her company looked unfamiliar. Had Mystic Falls opened a new nightclub to which she wasn't yet privy? Maybe the Council had finally given up on hunting for vampires, considering that she didn't see any of the town bigwigs running about.

Right now, she was bored—and a bored Katherine Pierce was never a good thing. Although there was a bar which was probably heavily stocked with her choice of alcohol, she wasn't quite feeling the brandy vibe tonight. No, she needed something a little bit thicker. She glanced over her shoulder at the tawny-haired young man dancing with someone in a Wonder Woman costume. She could definitely have gone for a piece of him, but he looked a little preoccupied. She continued to scan the crowd until her gaze fell upon a man at the far end of the room dressed in a costume that wouldn't have looked out of place in a stage production of The Phantom of the Opera. If the covered half of his face looked anything like the visible portion of his face, she was going to be busy for a while.

When she locked eyes with him, she felt herself being drawn in and sauntered over him, gracefully twisting and dodging her way through the growing mass of party-goers. Her nostrils flared as she caught a whiff of his cologne hanging in the air--or maybe it was someone else's. Whatever. It smelled nice. Katherine grinned at the mysterious Phantom as she approached, revealing the two small pairs of needle-sharp fangs hidden in her jaw.

She was halfway across the room before she decided to show off her speed and rushed up to him, stopping just an inch shy of running him over. Now that she was close enough to him to feel the heat rising from his skin, she could also smell the blood pulsing through his veins. It was a fragrance that she couldn't quite place, and she hadn't realised just how absolutely famished she was until she was well within biting distance.

For her, feeding and sex were synonymous. She much preferred to do one while engaging in the other; the fact that she was currently attending a public gathering wasn't a compelling enough barrier to dissuade her from taking care of her urges. She always got what she wanted, and right now she wanted the man in front of her whom she'd gradually been backing into a corner. When he had nowhere left to go except through the wall at his back, she grabbed him by the wrists and lifted his hands over his head, pinning them in place with her immeasurable strength granted to her by her host body's innate ability.

“Awww,” she pouted at him, gently brushing her lips over the soft skin on his neck, “do I scare you? Everyone tastes better when they're scared.” Her eyes took on the mirror-like, semi-transparent glossy sheen that they normally did whenever Felicia accessed her symbiotic ability. She could feel the slight flush of energy under her skin and blamed it on the Everclear she'd recently thrown back at the bar.

While she could have drank a little bourbon spiked with vervain--she'd built up quite a tolerance to the anti-vampire herb over the years, much to Stefan's chagrin--to help quell the unseemly urge, this party seemed to be severely lacking in the vervain department. She could usually smell it a mile away. Ah, well. Sampling his blood would have to do for now.

She pressed her teeth to his neck, then realised she hadn't gotten his name. Well, that was a little rude. Based on his looks alone, she didn't want to kill him. She should have at least gotten his name first before she tucked in.

Reluctantly, she pulled herself away from his neck and rubbed up against him. “So . . . ” she rested her forehead against his chin and tilted her head up to look him in the eye. He was even better-looking up close. “How very rude of me not to ask your name first, Mister . . . ” She could have compelled him to reveal every aspect of his life, but where was the challenge in that?

-----

I'd like to see you throw down maenad style. That'd make for an interesting night.

Oh, was he giving her a challenge?

Don't tempt me. I'd blow your mind.

She didn't need any encouragement. But if he wanted her to “throw down maenad style,” well, who was she to deny him that simple pleasure? As it was, the music the band was playing was hardly party appropriate. She approached one of the lead musicians as Felicia cut across the floor to go entertain herself with Jordan. Hopefully at least one of the musicians was familiar with ancient Greek music and would be able to lead a song or two just to get her in the mood. Even if none of them were familiar with Hellenic tunes—well, she wouldn't have been a true maenad without a lyre. Her lyre was something that she'd kept with her over the centuries. The only thing that really needed replacing every now and again were the strings. The instrument itself was something that a trained master of antiquities would have recognised as incredibly valuable.

She'd stashed the instrument behind the bar in a carrier that had been designed to house a small harp. Both instruments came from relatively the same design, and the lyre fit nicely into the instrument case's hold. Khalidah passed by the band before making her way to the bar. “If you let me play the next few songs, I'll make it worth your while.” She produced several hundred dollar bills from a leather pouch at her waist.

Even though they were already being paid quite handsomely to play at the event, he wasn't going to turn down free money. He took the handful of cash and began dividing it up amongst the rest of the group. “Play as long as you'd like.” He gave Khalidah his chair and adjusted the dual microphone's as she sat down, placing one close enough to the lyre to pick up the sound of the strings' reverberation and the other near her mouth. “That's a nice lyre. Where'd you get it?” It looked incredibly old, but a lot of instrument creators knew how to create that 'old' look collectors liked.

She plucked a few of the strings and adjusted them until they were tuned. “I actually got this on a trip to Greece a while ago. In Athens at a little souvenir shop.” It was half true. Sophie would recognise it as the very same lyre she played nearly two millennia ago.

Jordan had said he wanted to hear her throw down Gangnam maenad style. He really had no idea what he was asking for, and she doubted he fully understood what was in store for him and the rest of the party. She placed the lyre on one of her knees and sat with her legs spread slightly apart to allow for ease of movement. “I thought this party needed something a little more classical.” With the plectrum in her right hand, she plucked out a few introductory chords from the seven-stringed instrument and contemplated what to play. Since she was playing the role of a maenad for the evening, why not an ancient hymn to Bacchus? It was only appropriate.

She decided to start the opening stanza slowly and gradually build her way up as the hymn progressed. It was a simple song of call and response much like what was used in most major religious services, but this was haunting in its simplicity—at least to everyone in the room who understood ancient Greek.







Επικαλούμαι τη νύφη, και επικαλούνται Βάκχος . . .

Επικαλούμαι τη νύφη, και επικαλούνται Βάκχος . . .

Επικαλούμαι τη νύφη, και επικαλούνται Βάκχος . . .

Επικαλούμαι τη νύφη, και επικαλούνται Βάκχος . . .

The energy she was capable of summoning was known by several names to religious scholars and mystics. Kundalini. Tantra. Chi. Universal energy. If channelled in the appropriate ways, she could bring people to a point of pure spiritual ecstasy, which was exactly what she was intent on doing. What was the point of being able to do what she could do without sharing her pleasure with others? A little bit of chaos and reckless abandon had never harmed anyone, right?

Κικλήσκω Διόνυσον!





ερίβρομον, ευαστήρα, πρωτόγονον, διφυή, τρίγονον.

Her fingers moved dexterously over the strings, strumming out deep chords that she could feel rippling in her belly. It had been a while since she'd last spoken any Greek, but it was a skill she knew she'd never forget.

The energy in the room was a palpable entity to her and she was there to be its vessel and its amplifier. Closing her eyes, she drew the energy into her and flushed it out into the crowd as the song grew in intensity, the notes sounding off from the lyre rising into a near deafening crescendo. She returned to the chorus, singing the same four words over and over like a mantra. Khalidah immersed herself in the music, quickly losing herself in the thick, invisible cloud of energy now cloaked around her like a protective mantle.

She loosened her grip on the energy as she felt the ebb and flow of the crowd. As the energy around her continued to rise, her fingers reacted accordingly, gradually speeding up the melody to a feverish pitch. Her voice climbed and she wailed ecstatically as if she were attempting to be heard by the very gods of Olympus to whom she was crying out. Long ago, they'd been her family, and although most of them had been lost to the ages, a handful of them still existed, albeit in different forms. She was calling out to them now, desperately hoping that they would sense her longing in their bones and that they would return to her.

Her yearning for them was almost frenzied in its intensity, magnified by the words that had once drawn them so closely together.

Kισσόβρυον, εύιον ωμάδιον, ταυρωπόν!






Διός καί Περσεφονείης αρρήτοις λέκτροισι τεκνωθείς!

Khalidah's foot beat out a passionate rhythm on the floor, and she let the energy flow through her, filling her with lust. The taut strings of the lyre cut into her fingers and made them bleed, but she was completely beyond care. Yes, the wounds stung, but only for a moment. The sensation of pain was drowned out by her desire to connect with everyone—everything. She could feel all the unique spiritual energies reaching out to her, some more powerful than others, and she rewarded them all with a little spark of herself; the purest life energy the universe had to provide. It was old energy that had first been borne by the stars. Followers of the old gods easily fell under her thrall when in the presence of such divinity.

It was rare for her to express her power around her family members, let alone complete strangers. Even Felicia didn't know the full scope of her mother's powers, how she'd laid waste to armies of thousands with a single thought. She'd shone with the brightness of all the morning and evening stars, blinding in their ferocity. Almost imperceptibly to the human eye, the very atoms of her body began to vibrate, causing her form to appear as if it were rapidly flickering in and out of existence.

The only thing keeping her grounded in her earth-bound form was the energy she was receiving from the crowd. They didn't want her to stop. And as far as she was concerned, she would continue to play until her fingers were worn down to the bone.

Only now was the party finally getting started.

-----

Whatever song that woman was singing, she had no idea. Katherine liked to consider herself to be somewhat of a linguist, but the only languages she really recognised and considered herself fluent in were English and Bulgarian, and somehow she doubted the man in front of her would have understood the latter.

Unfortunately for him, the urge to rip out his throat and bury her face in his blood seemed to be mounting. Well, that and the urge to rip off his pants. She'd felt the desire to feed and the desire to fuck herself into oblivion (sometimes both at the same time), but nothing quite as potent as the feeling surging through her veins right now. She felt her thighs quivering and her knees nearly giving out from under her as a loud moan escaped her lips. Everything in the room felt like it was charged with energy hell-bent on making her orgasm for no apparent reason—not that she was going to complain, of course.

Wrapping her arms around Jordan's shoulders, she quickly found a balancing point as her legs cinched themselves tightly around his waist. At least if they fell, she'd already be on her back. How convenient. For as long as she could remember, she'd never wanted someone so fucking badly. When she became a vampire, it had been explained to her that her emotions would be extreme; even so, she'd never felt anything like this. If she didn't fuck someone right now, she was going to die.

A rich scent hit her nose, sending her even further into a blinding haze of lust. Blood. Old blood. Very old. Older than Klaus and the rest of his clan, if that were even possible. It was unlike anything that she'd ever smelled before.

The scent pushed her full into the thrall of her bloodlust from which she knew that there was no return. Without even giving him a second to get his bearings, she snarled at him and slid her fangs into the side of his neck with a surprising amount of restraint. She didn't want to rip out any of his major arteries. At least not yet. Perhaps she had learned more from Stefan during his early years than she cared to admit. This was something that she wanted to savour.

Her fangs nicked a rather prominent vein just under the surface of his skin, rewarding her with the sustenance she sought. She dug in deeper, sealing her lips around the small punctures while her tongue lashed away at him. The sensation of feeding had a calming effect on her when she wanted it to; now was not one of those times, and yet she couldn't help but feel like his blood was a balm that she'd been seeking for several years. Unbeknownst to her, the body that she was presently inhabiting harboured a rather unique symbiotic ability which placed her into a near trance-like state. The effects would also transfer over to her victim as she fed, replacing his blood almost as quickly as it flowed down her throat.

Pausing for only a moment once her hunger had been sufficiently sated, she withdrew her fangs and watched as the wounds sealed, leaving Jordan's skin slightly reddened, but none the worse for wear. Though her body rarely registered heat since she was, well, dead, the rising energy in the room was making her feel like her skin was on fire. Grasping the hem of her shirt, she pulled it over her head and cast it aside. She wouldn't be needing it for the rest of the night. Now that one troublesome article of clothing was out of the way, she could pay attention to more pressing matters.

Propping her elbows up on his shoulders, she laced her fingers together behind his head and leaned in closer until she was able to take his lips in a ravenous kiss. She was being driven by one thing now that she'd fed and had a bit more clarity of mind; before the night was over, she would have him.[/dropcap]

Довести до белого каления.

ф ф Word count: 2707
ф ф Mood: Power's still working. Yey.
ф ф Outfit: Khalidah = this, Felicia = Jeans, t-shirt—probably minus the shirt by now. lol
ф ф Lyrics / Quote: Maryanne Forrester, because there is no fourth wall in Eclipse.
ф ф Illustrations: None.
ф ф Comment / Informational links: FU internet being down yesterday. ):<

[Ryan D'Alteau]

The pressure is high, I can't take it!
I won't deny, but I won't make it!
I build walls around me to isolate myself!
______________________________Thornwill - "Implosion"

It was mildly embarrassing for her not to know the costume of her hostess but, with everyone steadily growing more inebriated by the minute, it was embarrassment which would pass in time. With any luck, nobody would remember her lack of pop culture knowledge the following morning and they would all be free to return home. Despite this, she was getting a fair amount of attention. She had already been getting looks from the other guests as she stood there in her elaborate costume and, with Ryan now knowing where in the social melee she actually was, there wasn't much use in standing in one place for too long.

With every glance she fired in Dakari's direction, she couldn't help but think that she had inadvertantly walked in on something; interrupting a thread of conversation which would have continued without her. Given that both Dakari and Adele were both full-time businesswomen - albeit to differing degrees - they no doubt had some common ground on which they could have an important discussion. If they had indeed been working towards that end, then the last thing Michelle realised they would need was a strangely dressed post-teen who was all smiles about being asked to be someone's bridesmaid.

So, like anyone would, she latched onto the first excuse she could find to break away from them. "So, uh... Ryan! How've you been?" Turning around to face her former lover, Michelle took great care to avoid giving Adele a concussion with her horns and slowly paced across the room. Realising that he had become the subject of the conversation, Ryan soon started to follow along beside her. "You managed to find a job yet?"

Just where was he meant to begin with a question like that? After hearing about her break-up with Owen, the last thing Ryan wanted to do was to send her reeling a second time with the revelation of what Sophie Nystrom and Maurelle Lacroix had managed to collectively expose in his mind. While Adele and the few people that knew about his alternative lifestyle seemed to have taken it in their stride, he wasn't entirely ready to have it known to the world. However, still being very much sober, Ryan was able to take great care with his words. He could respond to Michelle's inquiry and not reveal anything. "Yeah. I did, actu'lly," he said with a triumphant smile.

She knew how long Ryan had been striking out on the employment front and, understandably, was pretty pleased. "Nice! What do you do?"

"'S an assistant's job over in Brownsville; helpin' out this high-class businesswoman with 'er day-t'-day stuff. Nothin' special, but th'pay's good so I thought, why not?" He was the personal bodyguard and assassin of a leading light of the criminal underworld and, as a result of the high-risk work, was being paid almost twice as much as his fiancée. Seventy-five thousand dollars a year was a serious amount of money; far more than Kiros Monroe, the Company or even GEIST had paid for his services.

Then, all of a sudden, Ryan's torso vanished from sight. It was only when Michelle heard the sound of his noisy attempt to avoid falling flat on his face that she felt the gentle throbbing a few inches above her right ankle. Upon glancing down, she noticed that her right foot had stepped wide; well into Ryan's path and, with a slight change in angle, had easily tripped him up. "Ryan, I'm sorry..! Are you okay?" She hadn't intended to trip him and, rather strangely, she had no recollection of the very desire to do such a thing. As far as she was concerned, the whole thing had been done on an uncontrollable impulse.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Ryan grumbled as he rose to his feet, taking care not to tread on the cape strapped to his back. There was a look of understanding annoyance in his eyes. He was annoyed that Michelle had tripped her up but, given that she was dressed as Loki, the Norse god (or goddess, in this case) of mischief, trickery and deception, it was easy to see the act as an enthusiastic partygoer getting into the role her character depicted. "Y'wanna go get a drink?"

"Sure," she said, giving a small smirk as Ryan made his way over to the bar. It had been such a great idea for her to custom-build her Loki costume, she mused to herself. Despite getting tossed around like a ragdoll by the Hulk in The Avengers, Thor's adoptive brother was a much maligned and misunderstood character. Deception was in his very nature, just as battle and warfare was in Thor's and, while his reasoning for doing what he did changed with every movie, she couldn't help but think that, somehow, he was enjoying it.

And so, too, was she. Tripping Ryan up had only been the start. A party was the ideal place for her to cause all sorts of chaos. "Get me a beer, will you..?" Slowly, her accent was fading, abandoning the bubbly north Texan drawl in favour of a cold, calculating voice befitting a more villainous persona. It would be a little while before anyone noticed but, for reasons unknown to her, she was changing. Simply being Michelle was far too boring for an occasion such as this. She wanted to abandon her life for the rest of the evening and have some fun for a change.

She wanted to be Loki.

"Sure." Taking note of both Michelle and Ryan's order, the bartender produced two identical beer bottles and set them onto the counter. For a brief moment, he was about to ask the couple to pay for the drinks, but quickly stopped himself as he recalled the circumstances. Everything had been paid for in advance and, barring odd vampire women all but forcing tips into his hand, he had no need to take any money from anyone.

"So why'd y'trip me up, anyway?" With the cowl ending at the bottom of his nose, Ryan's Batman costume didn't serve to impede his drinking and, with this in mind, he set about draining the bottle with his usual level of abandon. Despite Jordan and Evelyn commandeering it for the night, it was still his house and, until someone passed a law saying otherwise, he could get as drunk - or as high - as he damn well pleased.

"Spur of the moment." Giving a slight shrug of her shoulders, Michelle almost looked as though she didn't care that she had tripped up her ex-boyfriend. After all, what was the point in remaining apologetic? Nothing had been damaged and Ryan was still able to walk. Nobody had paid attention to his fall anyway. "Guess you're not as agile as the real Batman, huh?"

"Nah, sorry. They left out ninja training on my first day at work." Of course, his first day working for Maurelle had involved a cute evening dress, some high heels, a southern accent and the insistence that his name was Julieanne, but that was beside the point. He was far too unfit to be anywhere close to Bruce Wayne's unrealistic level of agility and, while combat training had kept him relatively in shape, he still wasn't at the point where he was willing to undergo physical training on his own time.

Although it was being held in someone's house, the party still had enough room to accomodate a band. Having set themselves up in a corner, they had been furnishing the room with a light string accompaniment ever since the first guests had arrived. Until, that was, Khalidah had made her way over to them. After plying them with a small stack of money, she had taken pride of place amongst the band and, with her lyre resting against her lap, she had started to add a distinctly Mediterranean slant to the music.

With everyone having become accustomed to the ordinary classical music, Khalidah's contribution quickly seized the crowd's attention. When coupled with her singing, she had turned the often overlooked house band into a four man - and one immortal woman - concert group. While she knew that only one person would potentially have spoken ancient Greek - the language she was using - she also knew that the words themselves were meaningless when placed alongside her intention. It didn't matter if nobody could understand her hymn. It was the power with which she sang them that mattered.

Like he imagined everyone else had done, Ryan had shifted his gaze towards Khalidah. With every tap of her foot in time to the beat, Ryan could feel a wave of palpable energy crashing into what he assumed was his soul. Ironically, a man with the ability he had wasn't what one would have called spiritual, which made his understanding of things such as souls rather small. Nevertheless, he could actually feel the music as it played, each perfectly chosen chord starting to block out the world around him as though it had been a trance-inducing melody.

Squirming slightly in his seat, Ryan suddenly started to feel warm inside his costume. With the replica Batman suit being made of high-quality leather (with some spandex over his crotch at Adele's request), finding an explanation for the rise in temperature was easy. What was tougher was the sudden desire he had to be in bed with someone. All of a sudden, it was as if a switch had been flicked in his mind that had sent him from zero to horny as all hell in less than a second.

Normally, he would have taken Adele somewhere quiet and expressed his apparent need as quietly as possible with her. This time, however, his eyes were surveying the whole room. Whether they were his fiancée, his ex-girlfriend, an irregular mentor, his boss or a total stranger, he didn't care. He just wanted one of the women at the party to give him a half-decent excuse to get out of his costume.

"It's because you're wearing rubber on your head..."

Or two. A short distance away, Jenna was, like Ryan, falling under the sway of Khalidah's chaos-inducing song. Already, she had complained about how hot she was feeling and, in order to combat the malady, had ordered another drink complete with ice in order to help cool her down. Being from the same gene pool as Khalidah and one of the people Jordan hadn't yet manipulated with his subtle machinations, Nireva was in a better position to retain her faculties than her companion for the time being.

Squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, Ryan slid himself up from his seat and wandered around the bar, abandoning both his bottle of beer and Michelle as he made his way over to where Jenna was sitting. Despite her costume obscuring her natural looks, Ryan was finding himself drawn to the "Asari", mostly by instinct than anything else. "Says the one wearing a helmet. You must be getting hot under there! C'mon, Niri, don't say that it's just-... oh.. hey..."

As if their shared affliction had linked their minds together, Jenna was instantly aware of Ryan's presence as he approached. She had no idea who he was but, given that he was dressed as Batman, he was a ruggedly handsome and imposing sight. "Hey." As the two of them shared their half-hearted greeting, Jenna stood herself up in a daze, her eyes constantly studying Ryan's figure. Oblivious - or just plain ignorant - to what was happening, Khalidah still hadn't stopped playing and, as the music continued to bombard the assembled guests, their collective ability to resist gradually waned.

Some fell quicker than others. Some, thanks to Jordan, had fallen long before the immortal CEO had crossed the band's palms with cold, hard cash and, as Jenna reached up to tug the cowl from Ryan's head, so did they. It started out tentatively at first; Ryan caressing Jenna's painted cheek as she tossed the cowl away. But, within seconds, the two strangers embraced and - as if they had been a couple for years - started to make out in front of everyone.

"Jen, what the hell..?!" Unable to believe what she was seeing, Nireva carefully took off her helmet and set it down on the bar. For no apparent reason, her girlfriend had started kissing a random guy as though she believed him to be her. There was no response. Ryan and Jen were locked together in pleasurable harmony and her questioning protest was getting her nowhere. "JENNA!" Not even yelling seemed to help and, as she became more annoyed at the spectacle, Nireva felt the music worming its way into her mind.

Which allowed her to piece everything together. "Oh, Grandmother..." She still had no idea of the extent of Khalidah's power but, given the already unfathomable limits of what Felicia could do, it stood to reason that each preceding generation was capable of far more than those they birthed. Although she couldn't speak Greek - ancient or otherwise - she had been clear-minded for long enough to have picked out the names of members of the Greek pantheon; Bacchus, Aphrodite, Zeus. It was a reverential hymn. She was effectively praying. And with the deities in question encompassing ritualised ecstasy, madness and love, among other things, it was a fitting song for her to sing.

The more she focused on the woman dressed in white and allowed her deductive reasoning to inform her what was happening, the more Nireva felt herself succumbing to the urges which had started to plague the rest of the room. If Jenna, her girlfriend, was busy making out with another man, then she was damn well going to have to share. If she didn't like it, then there were others who would gladly entertain her company. "...you bitch..." Her quiet admonishment of her grandmother's actions came out as little more than a mumble as she wandered over towards Ryan and, after yanking him away from Jenna's lips, she flashed him a seductive smirk.

"We're a package deal," she explained. They were, after all, both cosplaying Mass Effect characters. It made perfect sense. "Got it?"

By the time Ryan's lips met hers in response, Nireva found herself completely lost.

[Gabriel Constant]

Something did not feel quite right to Evelyn. She was in a strange man's arms, dancing away as though she knew him well. She was no dancer; oh, certainly, she could dance when the need arose, but she had not been raised to dance and socialize. She was a warrior, through and through. Why was she stuttering through her questions? She was a stronger woman than that! She was the champion of the Amazons, after all! No less was she than Diana of Themyscira.

The strange man brought his hand up to her hair, exposing her skin, and she narrowed her eyes, frowned. The pliable young girl was gone; Diana would not stand for such treatment from a stranger. When he kissed her, she barely responded, and a look of irritation grew on her face as he invited her to have a drink. By the time he finished his suggestion, though, Diana had had enough. She was still in his arms; hefting him up and throwing him over her shoulder was an easy feat, and not a second had passed before Fitzroy found himself with a full bite of carpet.

Wonder Woman folded her arms. "Sorry, but you'll at least have to get my name before you go any farther with that."

---

Once Ryan joined them, Dakari realized her opportunity was lost. Perhaps later. She took a few long sips of a drink. Then things got interesting as Ryan fell, his cape flying up behind him as he made contact with the floor not far from Shelly's foot.

Across the room, Fallon hiccuped.

"Are you all right?" Dakari asked, but it seemed he was fine, and he and Shelly went off on their own. Dakari smoothed down her dress and adjusted her headpiece. This party was turning out to be quite different from what she had expected; though, in truth, she had not expected anything.

Dakari had lost track of Lucius, and she felt shut out of the conversation she had been in. Fortunately, or so she thought, she was distracted by a change in music. A haunting sound replaced the music that had been playing before. A plainly but beautifully dressed woman was playing an odd stringed instrument and singing along in another language. Dakari would have paid little attention to it had she not been bored. That, and had something strange not taken hold of her body. She knew the feeling: lust. But in her case, it was not directed at anyone in particular. She had never felt primary attraction, a necessary factor for infatuation. In fact, it had taken her quite some time to feel truly attracted to Lucius. It was his mind and his power that had won her, not his looks. Those were secondary.

She did, however, feel a need to work out some tension and her usual partner, Lucius, would have been ideal for that. He did not seem to be on hand, though. Dakari carried herself over to a sofa and carefully took a seat. The layout made her look like a true Queen of the Nile; she sipped her drink haughtily and eyed the crowd. She certainly felt regal, except she did not have any servants to do her bidding. "You," she said, beckoning to a woman who appeared to be dressed as a maid or showgirl or something. "Come here; your queen bids you fan her." Lazily she extended a coffee table book toward the woman. My, but it was warm inside this abode.

---

An interesting change of atmosphere came when the sound of a stringed instrument and a haunting voice stirred in the room. Fallon's gaze went to the source and found it was Khalidah Rahal, the prominent businesswoman who had come dressed as a… something. "Wow, I didn't know she was that talented," Fallon commented to Eliza and Hatire. "I figured she was just one of those science heads."

Khalidah's singing was entirely unfamiliar; Fallon could identify a few languages by sound, but this one sounded fairly alien. Greek, maybe? Fallon began to sway her body to the beat, a warmth spreading over her. "Hmm…." She smiled, running her hands along her body, from her stomach up over her chest. Closing her eyes, she lolled her head to the side, her fingers pinching and kneading herself through the fabric of her costume. As Khalidah's wails grew in intensity, Fallon began to moan, like a dog howling at the moon, her body still moving, falling in and out of rhythm, shutting the world out as Khalidah's energy filled her.

Until, suddenly, her eyes snapped open. She happened to be facing Eliza at the moment, and Eliza was the first thing she saw. A few steps forward brought her right up against the racecar driver. Ignoring any reactions from Eliza, Fallon began to dance, drawing her body up and down along Eliza's, wrapping her hands behind the other woman's neck, then smoothly turning around and sliding down Eliza as if the woman were a pole.

Her eyes fell on Hatire. Using her ability to propel objects, she sent him flying toward him; he had no say in the matter. With Eliza still behind her, she drew her hands up and down Hatire's costume armor, then dropped herself into a low squat before winding up against him. Once she reached her full height, she braced herself against Eliza and wrapped one of her own legs around Hatire's waist. She had said nothing; her mouth was open and relaxed, inviting, her eyelids heavy with lust. Tugging his head down to hers, she kissed him heatedly, dragging her lips along his slowly, milking every sensation her body could create.

And then, quite abruptly, her body crumpled at his feet.

---

Pressed against the wall, Jordan found himself in quite the predicament. He may have underestimated Khalidah's power somewhat; or, at least, he had underestimated the effect it would have on him. Felicia was certainly close enough to appreciate the… effect Khalidah's energy had on his body. And, of course, Felicia was right there, willing and ripe for the taking.

He was not so far gone as to not realize that he still had a job to do. The presence of Felicia actually served to remind him of that. She was not herself; she was a character, a costume. Still, he could not imagine her current behavior was that far removed from what she might naturally have done.

"Erik." His name was not Erik; that was the Phantom's name. He was not under the influence of his own ability, but any evidence that he was not affected would probably work against him in the long run. Besides, he knew she did not entirely care what his name was. She was looking for something else, something he was increasingly glad to provide.

Khalidah was singing now, and Felicia's fangs were digging into his neck. He squeezed his eyes shut and grunted, clenched his own teeth. The pain was nothing, though, comparatively. He'd felt worse, and in any case the pain was quickly translated to pleasure thanks to the complex Khalidah's energy was giving him. And besides, this was all his doing. He had made Felicia into a vampire; he had challenged Khalidah. He would face the rewards and consequences of his decisions. He had made this bed; now he would lie in it.

Perhaps that was a poor choice of adage.

As Felicia dug in deeper, he felt himself slipping into a trance. The feeling was a familiar one, much like that which accompanied his secondary ability. That would not do right now. Not yet. Most of the guests still had not had the opportunity to become their costumes. And that's terrible.

The amount of energy flowing through the room should have made it more difficult for him to discover Fallon's ability, and it probably would have had she not used that ability. Once she did, he was able to detect it, locate the responsible parts of her brain. She was going to help him pull this off, though she would have no idea of it at all.

Felicia was pulling off her top as Jordan pushed Fallon into activating the energy conversion aspect of her ability. Borrowing the energy that was currently flowing through Fallon, he used her to convert it into psychic energy that he could use to fuel his own mental processes. Her propulsion ability pushed the energy to him, though it felt more like it had been yanked out of her. She crumpled awkwardly, like an old, discarded doll. For the moment, she was brain-dead; but her body would soak up some of the external energy and convert it naturally, which would bump her up to a merely unconscious state.

He could now focus on getting the others involved. That is, as much as he could focus with a partially undressed woman trying to kiss the lips off his face. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer, drawing attention away from himself as he returned her kiss, his hands tracing lines along her curves. While his body was so occupied, his mind sought out those in the room who at the moment remained unaffected by his ability. It was easy, now. Shortly, everyone similarly had little thoughts here and there planted in just the right places to make them think they were their costumes. The only ones who were left unaffected were Jordan himself, Khalidah, and Fallon, who happened to be temporarily dead.

Breaking the kiss, he flashed Felicia a charming smile. He was already coming out ahead this evening; if they could get any more women in on this, that would be even better. Perhaps the Mass Effect cosplayers; they were probably hot in their day clothes. They seemed to be tied up with Batman, though. Hmm.

[Lucius Kilvayne]

Hail! Hail! Hail!
Julius Caesar!
Hail! Hail! Hail!
Invictus!

"It's an honor to finally meet you,"

Lucius nodded, and smiled. This was a good thing, really. Lucius wasted no time when it came to matters of such great an importance. And in the end, the machinations of Gabriel Constant were the same as his own. He had to be in the loop, it was a fact of life. Mercer was chosen for a reason, and Lucius had a feeling tonight would be the revelation of that reason. It was an honor to be present, actually.


"Gabriel spoke highly of you."

"Likewise," Lucius acknowledged graciously.

"I'm well. Glad to see that everyone seems to be enjoying themselves. How are you this fine evening?"

Lucius was about to answer, when Jordan turned his attention elsewhere. Lucius followed suit, as the niceties of the conversation were overpowered by the events unfolding around them. Jordan's date was swept off her feet by another guest, this time it was none other than Inaki Soler himself. He understood the man to be a foolhardy idealist, who styled himself a hero. He wanted to save the world. Foolish notion, that. Lucius knew there was but one way to save the world- but Inaki had not the will nor ambition for it. This world could only be saved by one who had the power to rule it.

And Lucius was just such a person. He had taken control of Ark Industries. He had ascended to the throne of the Kilvayne Corporation. He had forged an alliance with Gabriel Constant. He had taken Dakari as his lover, and his future Queen. He had set plans in motion to conquer the nations of the world, one by one. He would become the new God. The New King. The New Emperor! He was Lucius Kilvayne...

A strange song filled the room. A strange thought, a strange series of memories filled his mind. He was a conqueror, a man of power. He had fought many battles, he had defeated many foes. He had gained revenge countless times. He was Consul of Rome. He had conquered Gaul. He stood against Gnaius Pompeiius Magnus, he had crushed armies under his heel. A legion called his name in holy veneration. He was the son of Mars, the son of Venus, the heir of Jupiter. He was Caesar. He strode to where his lover had taken residence, and he took her hand.

"My love," He said, kissing her perfect hand, " Ours is the glory of Rome, and the sacred land of Egypt. Ours is the world. No one stands between us now..."


Caesar turned his attention to the commotion of a strange woman throwing an even stranger man on the ground. There were other odd events. This was a strange party Egypt had thrown him. In fact, none of the others present were even dressed in the garb of the Egyptian.

"My Queen," he intoned, " Something is amiss, I think... I fear we have found ourselves far from Egypt, or Rome. What sorcery is this?"

But Caesar feared no sorcery. He was Mars in the flesh. Let a man seek to do battle with him, and the man would regret it. So was the will of Caesar. For now, he reclined next to Cleopatra, and looked to the servant Cleopatra had procured.

"Wine, for Caesar!" He shouted, authority in every syllable.

---

Meanwhile, Adrianna Kilvayne was suddenly surrounded by people she did not know. And Sophie had ditched her for some other girls. Adrianna frowned. She slipped away from the crowd, and found herself transfixed by a mirror. The person in the mirror didn't look like her. She had darker hair for but a moment, and a different face...and the costume was the only thing that was the same. And then, there was a change. The stranger stepped out, and took the appearance of Adrianna...no. That was not her name. Her name was Nina. She knew the stranger too. Lily...Lily was replacing Nina. Nina didn't like that, not one bit. She shoved Lily into the mirror, shattering the glass. The struggle had begun, and soon it was over. She was on top of Lily stabbing her. A shard of glass in her hand. Blood everywhere.

Nina found the stage, and began to dance. She was the star of Swan Lake, after all. No one could take that away. She danced perfectly, and the crowd loved it. She took her bow, and the curtain fell.

Unfortunately, so did she. She fell on the floor, bleeding out. Had she been in her right mind, Adrianna might have regretted her costume choice. She had only wanted to look beautiful for Sophie, after all. She couldn't have known...but it was too late for all that. She wasn't in her right mind, and neither was Sophie or anyone else for that matter. Not tonight...

[Nireva Hale]

I have wondered about you.
Where will you be when this is through?
If all goes as planned...
Will you redeem my life again?
______________________________Faunts - "M4, Part 2"

Between the copious amounts of alchohol and her grandmother's lyre-playing, the whole room had been whipped into a frenzy. Albeit ignored by Nireva herself, many of the other guests had started acting in a way that wasn't their own. Even when errant memories and mannerisms had utterly taken over, none of them were in any way aware that they were acting like the true owners of their costumes. Evelyn, the woman at the door, had fallen quickly into her role as Wonder Woman and, as befitting the member of Amazonian royalty, she had become vastly more assertive. Instead of allowing Inaki to run his hands all over her, she had latched her arms around his waist and unceremoniously tossed him over her shoulder.

It had been a number of years since Nireva had shared an object of her lust but, were she to do so with anyone in this day and age, nobody better than Jenna sprang to mind. And, to his credit, the British guy dressed up as Batman wasn't exactly ugly, either. As she planted a small kiss on his cheek, she couldn't help but wonder just how difficult it would be to get him out of the leather costume. She wanted him out of the costume. In her time without rational faculties, she didn't care if the tall man in her arms - or anyone else, for that matter - was engaged, married or uninterested in women. All she wanted was to grab someone, find a bedroom and do something she'd regret.

But she was also stronger than this. As much as she was acting like everyone else, Nireva knew that the sudden onset of uncontrollable lust wasn't of her own volition. Khalidah was responsible. Somewhere between her hypnotic singing and the vibrating strings of the instrument in her hands, she was managing to amplify the primal instincts of the people around her to the point where even Felicia could scarcely control herself. That said, her mother had always been willing to have sex with random men. Rumour had it that she had even dragged Devon Ridgeman - that creepy-ass former junkie she'd met over the holidays - into bed once upon a time.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Nireva managed to block out the urge to ride Ryan like a proverbial pony for long enough to back away. It seemed that disgustingly sobering thoughts were enough to break Khalidah's hold over her for the time being. With her grandmother's power being vastly in excess of her own, however, the exotic dancer knew that it would only be a matter of time before the ancient words began to compel her once more. Deciding to make the best of her moment of clarity, she tried to reason with her girlfriend a second time.

"Jen!!", she called, raising her voice over the music and conversation as she gave her fellow cosplayer a rough shove. Having been alive for over four hundred years, Nireva had never held her mortal lovers to the same standards as other women did. The fact she was standing less than three feet away from the spectacle of her girlfriend kissing a man neither of them knew didn't faze her in the least. Sometimes, she thought she was a little too understanding of the unpredictability of affection. Just because someone had declared their love for one person didn't mean that they suddenly no longer deemed others attractive as a result. "C'mon! Snap out of it!"

Jenna wasn't listening. Like many others in the room, she was deeply under Khalidah's sway; far too much to listen to reason. While it would have been fun to simply let herself go and fuck Ryan - or whoever else took her fancy - until she passed out, Nireva felt as though a line had been crossed. If she was going to engage in any sort of sexual congress with anyone, she wasn't going to do it at the musical behest of someone else. Downing the rest of her drink in one fell swoop - and abruptly resisting the advances of the man behind the bar, Nireva turned towards the stage on which Khalidah was performing and began to storm across the room.

Things were going well until a sudden thought entered her mind; an urgent realisation that caused her to freeze in her tracks. Something was wrong. Standing in the middle of a costume party, she realised that she didn't recognise a single soul. Anyone that was even remotely familiar had been hidden beneath a mask or some other obscuring veneer that caused them to take on a whole new identity. With little else to do after eradicating the Reapers, she had turned to reading up on Earth's history and, in amongst the conflicts and pandemics, she had noted humanity's tendency to celebrate. In order to boost military morale or raise spirits of the civilian populace after a natural disaster, humans always seemed willing to throw a party, even when the situation made doing so difficult.

Maybe this was another such occasion. Having rid the galaxy of a breed of sentient, apocalyptic machines that brought about an end to life every fifty millenia, organic life had every right to celebrate. For as long as anyone - even the Asari - right now would ever live, they would enjoy freedom and that, she thought, was something to savour. Nevertheless, she wasn't like the other people here. She wasn't human. She was a Quarian and, by all accounts, a rather special one. Her name was Tali'zorah and like only three of her peers, she was part of the Quarian Admiralty; a position she had inherited from her father, albeit not without protest.

She had been tasked with leading the Migrant Fleet - both her people's fighting force and civilian population, rolled into one - against the common enemy of galactic civilisation and, although suffering significant losses, had somehow managed to triumph. So, like everyone else, she had decided to celebrate. Although the party was nice enough, it had been the gentle wafting of conditioned air against her skin that had startled her. Having been forced from their home world by a species of artificial intelligence they themselves had created during a quest for a subservient workforce, the Quarians had spent the last three centuries confined to their ships in deep space.

As a result, their immune systems had atrophied to the point of near non-existence. Even when they were on their own ships, surrounded by their own people, each and every Quarian were forced to house themselves inside an exo-suit. Although humans had possessed similar technology for centuries to protect against sources of radiation and toxic waste, their "hazmat suits" weren't even remotely close to being as sophisticated. The Quarian exo-suit was, effectively, a wearable computer. Although plans had been set in motion to help boost the collective Quarian immune system, Tali'zorah - like many - would still require the use of her exo-suit for many years to come. Which begged the question...

...where the hell was her helmet?!

Gripped by a sudden panic, she whirled around and scurried back to the bar. Thankfully, her helmet hadn't strayed far and, after bunching her hair back up, she stuffed her head into the protective confines of the exo-suit once more. Almost immediately, she consulted her arm-mounted omnitool - the tactile interface controlling her suit - and, as a precaution, ran every single diagnostic program she had installed. In reality, much of what happened was simply an illusion brought on by Jordan's ability but, in the mind of the Quarian sitting at the bar, she was simply happy that everything was still working. Though, if she got the sniffles, she would be certain to punish herself for it.

"This is awkward." Jenna and Ryan, like the rest of the party, had also succumbed to the persuasive thoughts Jordan had forced to invade their minds. Now, all that stood there was a (relatively) young Asari researcher and a multi-billionaire playboy; two beings that otherwise would never have met. Jenna - or, to be more precise, Liara T'soni - had absolutely no idea why she would have kissed the strange masked man standing before her. Although her race's ability to parthenogenetically birth offspring allowed her to be the mother - or father - of a child with someone of either gender, she was far from a person inclined to sleep around at random.

"Not as much as it could be." As ever, Bruce Wayne - in an effort to hide the fact that he was Batman - forced himself to adopt an abrasive, gruff voice. It made him sound perpetually angry, but it was all part of his disguise. The whole Batman persona was designed to instill fear in his enemies, after all. Although he was known to seek out attractive women and entice them with his immense wealth for lack of anything better to do between saving Gotham from its myriad evils, even he had limits. After all, he wasn't Captain Kirk.

"I'm really sorry. I should be going," Liara sighed, glancing around for someone she knew. Anyone would have done. Thankfully, just a short distance away, she could see one of her comrades-in-arms. Quickly excusing herself, Liara politely strode around Batman and sat herself down on a bar stool. "Hello, Tali." Her painted lips spread into a relieved smile. Tali was the perfect conversation partner at a party such as this. Whatever beauty she possessed was hidden beneath a suit she had been advised against removing since childhood and, as far as she was aware, she was already spoken for. Not that relationships were that important given what had happened recently. "How are you enjoying the party so far?"

To Liara, chronicling what had happened and researching the past was far more important. Being the Shadow Broker - the faceless repository of galactic information - she was effectively one of the most powerful people alive and, with the near infinite layers of misdirecting anonymity her title came with, she was still able to walk the streets as normal. Not even her most trusted contacts knew who she was. In fact, only the crew of the Normandy knew her double life. It was a situation she wanted to remain static at all costs. "It's great!" With her voice hidden behind her helmet, Tali's mouthpiece began to flicker with its mechanical blue glow. Personally, Tali had been struck with wonder at the people living in eastern Europe. Even before the Quarians had visited Earth, the people in that part of the world had sounded just like her. Maybe that was why she felt weirded out at travelling across the Atlantic. "Though having to use my emergency induction port for everything is a little annoying."

Realising that Liara was likely to know the answer to her question, Tali quickly butted in again. "Oh! Have you seen Shepard? She said she was going to show up."

Ehehehehe..! You're such an idiot!
You've been Loki'd again!
______________________________Tom Hiddleston

The goddess of darkness and mischief was growing restless.

Having obtained a bottle of the pitiful fluid the Midgardians deemed worthy of being called "ale", she had quickly found the people surrounding the bar lacking and decided to move on. Despite all their idiosyncrasies that seemed to endear them to misguised people like her brother, Loki felt that the denizens of this realm of mortals were little more than puppets; toys whom she could subjugate and derive entertainment from as and when she pleased. That was, of course, all their simple minds could comprehend.

Rather than follow the mortal convention of politely depositing the empty bottle into a trash can or similar receptacle, Loki had simply tossed the bottle onto the floor. Surely, the host - wherever he may have been hiding - would have sent one of his handmaidens to clear up the mess eventually. Although the armchair in the corner was by no means an Asgardian throne, it was better than suffering the indignity of sitting on the floor or standing around as though she were a piece of furniture.

While there may have been music, food, drink and conversation to be had - much like Thor's celebratory feasts back in Asgard - Loki couldn't help but find the whole thing dreary. Even in the realm of the gods, her heritage had rendered her something of an outsider. Unlike her brother, who was the god of warfare and so-called "glorious battle", she was a mere trickster. She had her place and, despite her accomplishments, the head of a feasting table was not one of them. Of course, she felt herself above such things. The hammer-wielding simpleton could keep his gluttonous ways, for all she cared.

No. What this party needed was some actual fun. In Midgard, she could do anything she damn well pleased and, one way or another, the pathetic mortals in the room with her would bow to her superiority. Whether they submitted through war or being the victim of her many tricks was irrelevant. Taking hold of her strange looking sceptre, Loki rose to her feet and, with an authoritative and regal air that would have put any Midgardian monarch to shame, began to survey the party once more.

This time, however, she had no interest in the people. She was searching for opportunities; ways in which she could garner pleasure from the dismay of others. If there was one thing Loki admitted was good about the realm in which the party had been held, it was that one of their myriad dialects had a word for what she craved. Schadenfreude. It was as if the thirteen letters had been joined together in tribute to her and those who already worshipped her. She wanted to watch the despair rising in the eyes of these pathetic mortals as their social equilibrium crumbled away... and laugh.

"Wine! For Caesar!"

It was so sad. To hear a man - a mortal man - dictate commands as though he was in some way superior to a goddess. How dare he?! Almost instantly, Loki felt the hatred in her own eyes as she fired a glare at the Roman Emperor. She could have crossed the room and torn the head from his shoulders within three seconds. There was nothing his so-called queen, nor anyone else, could have done to stop her. If she wanted something, then she would simply take it. Not even the giants of Jötunheimr could stop her.

The prostrate mortal before the "monarchs" - obviously their personal servant - seemed slightly hesitant to play their little game but, as soon as they began to walk away, Loki sprang into action. Having explored the beachside dwelling beforehand, she knew the most likely place in which the wine could be found. With the bar dealing mostly in liquor and spirits, the bottles of wine were kept in the pantry; or kitchen, as Midgard had taken to calling it.

Picking a bottle from the shelf at random, Loki set about befouling the expertly fermented grape-based alcohol. Rummaging through the cupboards, she took a pair of canisters - one of chilli powder, one of black pepper - and, once the cork was out of the bottle, poured a generous helping of both into the liquid. By the time the servant arrived, the cork was back in the bottle and the chilli powder had dissolved to the point of being invisible. "Trying to find some wine for your king and queen, are we..?" Putting on her best friendly, helpful smile, Loki set the bottle on the counter, along with a pair of wine glasses. After all, this was a party! Wasn't everyone meant to be friends here?

Shelly's (who was that, anyway?) Texan accent had completely vanished, Jordan's ability replacing it with an aloof, regal-sounding British accent; just the way a godlike villain should have sounded. In fact, thanks to his ability, she was utterly convinced that she was who her costume depicted her to be. "Apparently, they say this wine is fit for a queen. It couldn't hurt to see if they're right..."

[Helena Rahal]

A fire in a heart that is about to explode into flames

Henry was not unfamiliar with things being more than what they appeared, here he was looking the part of a gentleman, when really he was a vampire looking for a snack. The world was full of people playing with masks, both of weakness and of strength, for whatever reasons they desired. It was a simple matter of human nature to hide your true self, something innately written into the DNA of humankind to only allow intimate relations to know the true you.

This woman he had danced with proved that theory as he found himself lifted from his place on the floor and then throw into it. He was confused with this action and even more confused by the bite in her words when just moments ago she was happy to be a dance partner. His pride was hurt now, though nothing a night spent on the desk of a retired cop playing hero wouldn't cure. That was for another night though, tonight was one of his nights away from that hero business.


"Why would I want to know the name of woman who one moment is a willing and mesmerizing dance partner and the next a lunatic? No, I think we're done here and all the better for it to be done sooner rather than later." Henry said as he stood up and dusted his shoulders off. While she smelt and looked sweet, the dagger to his pride in throwing him around like that was not worth the game of playing with this woman. In fact, had this not been such a well lit place, she would have found herself up against the wall seeing his true form, she could count herself lucky in that regard.

Moving away from the lunatic, his eyes scanned the crowd for someone to make a snack out of. Much to his disappointment, all the pretty faces seemed to have partners, except for the woman had joined the band. Henry took in a deep whiff of the air to try and decide whose blood smelt the sweetest and was worth trying to pry away. He noticed something odd though, there was some very very ancient blood in the midst, and not just one source though others were not quite as old as the most prominent.

His eyes went to the woman with the band as she began her rhythmic song. She was no ordinary woman, she was the source of the ancient blood, older than even the oldest vampires he had come across in his lifetime. Was she some sort of goddess made manifest or something ... more than that? The very thought made him shudder in his spot. There was also a driving hunger in him, but he had learned to switch that need off when he needed to. He would be most disappointed with himself if he made a spectacle here in the party. If he was to feed, it would be discreet and nothing that would leave the party for the worse of wear.

His eyes moved around once more, locating the old blood, making note of who to avoid for and even grinned when he saw a female vampire making a show of her feeding... and other things. Some just lost themselves to the lust, such a shame, especially for one so attractive and seemingly so old. Maybe she reveled in it, didn't care if she exposed herself for what she. Henry cared though and just moved along, until the smell of blood lit up the room and his eyes narrowed on a dying woman over by a mirror. Oh choices...

Maurelle was bored. Sure there were people here that she knew, but they had decided to mingle about themselves, even Ryan left her company, followed shortly by the Adrianna woman. Hrmph, well that left her looking like a nobody in the middle of the room, how disappointing. There was Inaki, but it looked like he already had his hands full with his insane wife and some interesting antics of his own.

How much longer did she have to wait for the fun to really begin? She had seen it in her visions and had been really looking forward to it, but still it was so isolated. At least until Ma decided to get things start and Maurelle basked in the energy that flowed through the room, the melody of the ancient calling out her song. It was glorious... and it made her full of desire.

A desire that soon came to perform and be admired, a task that she was born to do and excelled at. People paid good money to come to her shows, to see her perform her dance numbers and admire her body. Yet at the bottom of it, as much as they were serving her, she was serving them as well, and that gave her a sort of perverse satisfaction. She was the object of admiration in all her revealing outfits, all her sultry numbers, people came to see her, to be teased with that fruit which was hers but could never be touched. It was enough to nearly send her over the edge.

Until she was addressed by a strangely dressed woman, asking... nay, demanding that she come and fan her. As much as she wanted to, she saw nothing to do as she was commanded to. Yet it was made for naught as she was joined by her partner, who was demanding wine, now that she could provide. With a quick turn, she began to move to where she thought the wine pantry was. Much to her surprise, another guest of this event was there, presenting her with a pair of glasses already full of wine, supposedly fit for a queen. "Thank you, I hope that my patron agrees with your assessment."

With a smile, she grabbed the glasses and hurried back to the attractive woman and her bossy companion. With care she handed them each their glasses and then waited anxiously for a new command, hopefully one that involved her getting more intimate with the strangely dressed lady. She even fluttered her eyelashes at her, hoping that she was open to such advances...

Both Hatire and Eliza were struck odd by the strange chiming music that came from the band. Much to their and Fallon's surprise, Khalidah had joined the band and began singing in some strange language, which neither of them recognized. Fallon made a comment that Hatire sounded sort of like a back handed compliments, making Hatire frown. He really wished that she wouldn't be so downtrodden and judgmental of others, at least not in public. Books and their covers seldom matched, he was proof of that.

Eliza was feeling strangely warm and decided to remove her jacket, hoping that would help. Yet where the warmth was originating from... she knew that her jacket wasn't going to help a bit. It made her nervous and uneasy, she had not felt this way in public in awhile.

Hatire however was concerned for Fallon as she began to touch herself and moan as the wailing began to get louder. This was soo unlike the Fallon he knew... yet a part of him admitted that he liked it. She was a beautiful woman, an intelligent woman, and he had to admit that there was some feelings for her. That would have been obvious were it not for the nature of his outfit

Eliza was completely taken by surprise as the woman pulled up to her and began to dance... exotically with her. Was her bisexuality that obvious right now? She thought no one knew about that and maybe Fallon really didn't but was just that turned on like Eliza was feeling. Eliza relaxed and enjoyed the movements Fallon did, using her as if she was a pole in a club. Hatire was off guard as he felt him body being flung through the air and up against her, before she began to dance between him and Eliza.

Fallon's assault left both of them lost to their senses and Hatire readily took the heated kiss with her, his own eyes beginning to fill with lust. It was such a powerful kiss, he struggled to return it was the same passion and desire that Fallon exerted. Hatire was thinking about a quick teleport back to their apartment when Fallon suddenly crumpled between them!

Eliza was worried about the sudden heap of flesh between the two and quickly squatted down to check Fallon's vitals. This was supposed to be her party, to celebrate her victory over the plot to have cyborgs rendered outlaws. Deunan Knute didn't do parties, but when she did, she sure as hell was not going to let one of her guests be hurt in them!

And yet as she felt the woman's neck, there was no pulse. No... it was there... just very weak! "Someone call an ambulance!"

"What in Westeros is an ambulance?! What is wrong with milady? You did something to her didn't you? You better hope she recovers, this is an important woman to the Lannisters!" Well she was a special woman to Bronn as well, he was having an affair with her, but he wasn't about to let that out. But where in all of Westeros was he and his lady?

Sophie was very upset when the rude version of Ryan in the batman outfit came and interrupted them. This was no acceptable, she wanted Niri and Jen's attentions, instead this interloper had barged in. Right now she was desperately wanting her plastic omni-tool to be real and use the blade function, teach him to show some proper respect to his mentor. Whatever damage she did she could just heal later, probably after having to navigate around the fury of Adele, but it was a lesson her seemed to have forgotten since their last meeting.

The only thing keeping Sophie from at least deliverring verbal blows was Ma's singing. It was a tune that Sophie was very familair with and the depths of which this song and Lida's power could create a frenzy. It was something she has seen many many centuries before and even partook in, but this seemed a very poor time for it. "Oh no..." Sophie whispered to herself as the song and Lida's power grew in earnest.

Much as in the past, Sophie felt herself losing control over her own desires, of her steam of consciousness. There was only the energy around them, the fever of the feelings boiling within her, and the people to unleash them upon. For this she thought it was a simple solution, the pair of lesbians...

Yet Ryan had the pair of them making out with him! It really boiled Sophie's blood and she wanted to desperately hurt all of them for their insolence, maybe even kill them. Her own student had come and ruined her fun for the night, how dare he!

Yet the sound of breaking glass caught her attention and she let out a loud gasp as she saw her beloved cutting herself with a broken mirror! What was wrong with her?! This wasn't right, no one was supposed to die, not at a party after the destruction of the Reapers! She had died a second time and been revived once more, the dying was over! Jane Shephard was not about to let anyone else die!

Running over to where the bloody form of this strange woman was laying on the ground, staining the floor beneath her and making her dress stick. "Hold on! I'm applying medigel now!" She said, hoping the woman could hear here as she held out her omnitool over the numerous wounds, letting its self application kick in with the high tech medical rescue treatment.

Unknown to Sophie, she was actually using her biokinesis to save the life of her lover. But such was the trick of Jordan's ability, she had no idea who Adrianna was nor that it was her powers that were saving her love's life.

"You're going to want to move her out of this room, a vampire is loose."

[Adele D'Alteau]

"And so we wait, patiently. Our tendrils spreading, unchecked, uncontrolled, unseen. Our hatred vaster than empires, and more slow. Our name, Leviathan!"

Babylon, AKA RyDele's Condo
South Padre Island, Texas

[dropcap]Attending a masquerade ball was something that she didn't remember asking her assistant to schedule. Her hands had been tied up with taking part in several negotiations with Bruce Wayne in an effort to salvage his rapidly failing company. He'd failed to listen to her advice in moving forward with Wayne Enterprises nuclear fusion reactor project which would have quite literally powered the entire world indefinitely. It was something that her father—Ra's al Ghul—would have been proud of.

Normally, she wouldn't have appeared in public wearing her family's colours; aside from a handful of individuals, including Mister Wayne himself, no one knew that her true identity wasn't that of the savvy entrepreneur Miranda Tate, but rather as Talia al Ghul, de facto leader of the League of Shadows and an assassin in her own right. She was also quite aware of Mister Wayne's crime-fighting alter ego, Batman. It was a persona that he'd developed after his parents were murdered when he was a child, and it had helped him to cope with the sudden, senseless loss.

She'd been in and out of love with him for years and had no intention of rekindling the flame that they once shared given his ill treatment of her father. While she may not have agreed with everything her father did (some reckoned that the Lazarus Pit was steadily driving him insane), he would always be her father. Some people questioned her devotion to him; she knew that at times she wondered just how far she was willing to follow him. Though she wasn't foolhardy enough to want to run the world on her own and have every nation answering to her beck and call, she was incredibly driven to see his plans through until the end. That must have been why she decided that she needed a night out to decompress and be someone else, even if by being someone else, she was truly being herself.

The party was full of faces that she didn't recognise. A woman at the centre of the room dressed in a white, nearly transparent chiffon dress was playing an instrument—no, it was a lyre. She played the instrument with such ferocity that her fingers split open and bled down the strings. If the nameless woman was in any pain, it certainly wasn't registering. And why could she smell the woman's blood so clearly? She'd smelled plenty of blood in her lifetime, and she'd spilled her own fair share of it, but this was different. The scent was overpowering and threatened to pull her under its control. She grit her teeth together and tried to resist it, but its undertow was much too powerful and potent. Her head reeled with pain as she fought the sudden, unexplainable impulse to drive one of her knives deep into the person nearest her to fill her with the rush that she desired.

Something wasn't right here.

She staggered to a nearby chair and struggled to keep her composure as the pain intensified. The stress of remaining in control under the sway of such power proved to be too taxing for her system, and she felt one of the blood vessels in her eye rupture, followed by another in her nose. With blood now streaming down her face and its intoxicating, metallic scent filling her nostrils, she was completely lost to the darkness as it swept her away.

Though she didn't realise it, Talia was still very much conscious, but with the constant beat of the woman's sultry voice caressing her ears, she was in a trance where all she could see was blood—or at least the faint outlines of it as it. Veins and arteries and other blood vessels in the precise shapes of human bodies and there in the centre, one of the cornerstones of human evolution: the heart. Was she hallucinating?

Through the enchanting sound of the music, she could just barely make out the voice of a man demanding wine. Who was he to be making demands in a house that wasn't his own? She started towards him, now very aware of each of the knives she was carrying on her person and the best, most precise ways to use each of them to exact her ultimate goal. The one she elected to use boasted a 13.5” double-edged Damascus steel blade with a hilt comprised of anodised titanium, fossilised mastodon ivory, agate, inlaid with pearlescent shell insets and semi-precious gemstones. The dagger was as functional as it was beautiful, and she always kept it in a scabbard slung around the front of her body.

Talia wordlessly approached the man from behind. While she might not have been able to see him clearly, she was more than able to see where she could strike him and bring an end to his insolence. Gotham's inevitable downfall was now well within her reach. The city would be brought to its knees with the seeds of slaughter that were now sown in her mind.

She came up behind him through a break in the crowd and slid the blade from its sheath, hiding it at her side. All she had to do now was plunge the blade between his ribs and into his heart.

-----

Well, now that she'd sufficiently satisfied her urge to feed (for now, at least), she could move onto other more pleasurable things. The corner that they were in was secluded enough for her to get away with what she wanted to do without incurring embarrassment—not that she would have cared if anyone decided to watch. People today were far too modest for her standards. Maybe that was why she was such an exhibitionist. Nah, she doubted it. She just liked to have a good time. And attempting to discreetly have sex with someone in public was a rush.

But she wasn't at that point yet. She wanted to make him work for the reward that she was willing to give. Making (what was his name again? Edmund? Elliot? Edward?) him suffer just a little bit more would be a victory for her.

Katherine eventually managed to disentangle herself from his body and planted her feet firmly on the ground. It really wasn't helping her at all that she could feel his desire for her through the fabric of her clothing, and the thrumming beat of lyre's strings were tweaking her nerves. It was taking what tiny amount of willpower she had to refrain from shredding his clothing and ripping out his throat—only now it wasn't his throat that she was interested in.

With a complete lack of regard for what might have been going on around them and who very well could have been filming the entire debacle (wasn't the internet wonderful?), her fingers deftly worked with blazing speed to unbutton and unzip the pair of slacks that he was wearing. Hmmm. Yes, they had to go. He wouldn't be needing them anymore.

She lowered herself to her knees and pulled the loosened waistband of his pants to a respectful level. She'd allow him to maintain his dignity a bit longer, not that the boxers he was wearing did much in the way of masking his arousal. Why couldn't everyone just go commando? It would have made things so much easier.

“Huh. That's funny. You didn't really strike me as the boxer-wearing type.” She rubbed her cheek against his inner thigh and grinned at him. “The silk's a nice touch, though.” Okay, she'd leave the boxers alone. She understood how important it was to have a few pairs of silk undergarments, and they looked expensive (not that money had ever mattered to her; if she didn't have enough of it, she either stole what she needed or killed whoever had what she wanted).

Katherine returned to her task and rolled up the hem of the boxers on his left leg until she was able to see one of her favourite parts of any human's anatomy: the juncture of the inner thigh and the groin. She'd always found it to be a particularly erogenous zone, not to mention it was also a good place to feed from if her donor needed an easy way to hide their wounds. Now that she'd been sated for the time being, she could feed on him for pleasure. The instant that her lips touched his skin, she bit down and grabbed him by the hips in a vicelike grip, keeping him pressed flush against her face. A few drops of blood missed her mouth and trickled down his thigh where they were quickly lapped up by her tongue.

From the corner of her eye, a brief glint of gold caught her attention. Aside from her inherent attraction to anything that had two legs, she could just as easily be enticed by shiny, expensive baubles. Reluctantly, she pulled herself away from her most recent feeding ground and focused on the spot where she'd seen the flash of golden light. The source appeared to be a rather attractive young women dressed as the female version of the Norse god Loki—or his comic adaptation, at least.

In an instant she was across the room and in femme!Loki's face, quite literally leaving Jordan with his pants down. Whatever, she'd get back to him. He could deal with it for five minutes. His blood was still smeared all over his chin, and she really must have looked a mess. Eh, that hadn't stopped her from getting into bed with women before; most women found it pretty hot that she'd earned her red wings. “Ten bucks says you're either wearing a thong, or nothing at all. Twenty bucks says you're not completely averse to having my head between your legs for the next ten minutes. I think these are valid theories which need to be tested. Oh, look. There's a free couch.” The couch to which she was gesturing wasn't entirely free; there was another woman on it who must have been playing the part of Cleopatra. Katherine eyed femme!Loki mischievously and coyly bit her bottom lip, revealing the tips of her fangs. “I don't think she'd mind sharing. Do you?”

Then again, Cleopatra looked a little preoccupied with Caesar. Normally she wouldn't have minded intruding, but she was growing increasingly impatient. She slung an arm around femme!Loki's fur stole covered shoulders and gently turned her around. Poor . . . whatever his name was. Eugene. Something with an E. She tried not to name her meals since naming them would have made them human. Like everyone else in the room, he was simply a means to an end to keep her satisfied and to prevent her from massacring the entire party (not that he could have stopped her anyways).

Leading femme!Loki through the crowd of people now trying in vain to ignore the hypnotic beat of the music, she stepped over a woman's body. Oh great. More blood. She stared down at the broken ballerina on the floor and rolled her eyes. What a perfectly good waste of blood. A woman in what looked like some sort of military dress immediately began ministering to the woman on the ground. When she heard the word vampire being thrown out, she smirked. Bloody Ballerina didn't have anything to worry about from her; she'd already eaten. True, she could have just bitten her and made off with whatever blood still remained in her veins, but Katherine couldn't be bothered. Not when she had a beautiful young woman on her arm.

She ushered femme!Loki over to Edgar—Elvis? No, that wasn't it, either—her handsome-faced, human-shaped bag of blood for the evening. He was still trying to compose himself after her most recent stunt. “I do apologise for leaving so abruptly, but I just can't say no to a pretty face.” Katherine stroked femme!Loki's cheek and leaned in to place a soft kiss on the corner of her lips. Oh, this was another human she couldn't resist at least getting a little taste of.

Katherine brought one of femme!Loki's hands to her mouth as if to kiss it. She turned it over, examining the pattern of delicate blood vessels running beneath the skin on her wrist. Pressing her lips over a steadily beating vein—probably the same set of veins the Bloody Ballerina had severed—she bit into the flesh and wrapped herself up in femme!Loki's arms. Her bosom certainly made a nice cushion to lean into while she fed.

The pain itself was minimal, and she hadn't drawn enough blood to cause any major side effects. Perhaps a little giddy lightheadedness, but that was all. Katherine released her current prey, though not before doing her the favour of cleaning up the punctures on her wrists. She drew femme!Loki's arm around her bare belly and stared at Ernest (God, how was it after nearly five hundred years of being alive, she still had trouble recalling the names of people she'd just met?)

“And I'm terribly sorry, but I also seem to have forgotten your name. You don't look like an Errol. Erebus, maybe?” Wait, wasn't he supposed to by the Phantom of the Opera? Duh. She'd been acquainted with Mr. Leroux around the time when he'd written the novel. “No—I've got it. Erik. I knew it would come back to me eventually. This is Loki. I'd be quite happy to share you with her.”[/dropcap]

Довести до белого каления.

ф ф Word count: 2390
ф ф Mood: Fffff.
ф ф Outfit: Khalidah = this, Felicia = Jeans, undershirt, Adele: Talia Al'Ghul costume
ф ф Lyrics / Quote: The Leviathan Oath from Batman: The Return #1 (Jan. 2011)
ф ф Illustrations: None.
ф ф Comment / Informational links: Yes, I know I'm lazy for using the same quote. Suck it. Also, if RyBatman wants to save Caesar from dying a second time, now would probably be a good time to do it. And because I'm lazy, I'll edit this post tomorrow with Khalidah & Felicia's shit. Meh.

Also, I decided against giving Jordan Conall boxers. Not only are they not his colour, they'd be far too large for him to fill. Also, BG got bored and added more shit in, yey.

[Ryan D'Alteau]

I'm hungry for some unrest.
I wanna push it beyond a peaceful protest.
I wanna speak in a language that they'll understand.
______________________________Muse - "Unnatural Selection"

Maybe it was a little stupid of him to attend a party as Batman. Unlike him, Batman was the enigmatic, fear-striking crime fighter that scoured the Gotham cityscape under cover of darkness and, to have so many people see their hero - or villain, depending on which side of the misguised moral fence one happened to stand - doing something contrary to his purpose in the diminishing light of a late-autumn evening was a folly at best.

Normally, when he was invited to a party, Bruce Wayne settled for one of his many meticulously tailored Italian suits. Although the finer intricacies of fashion eluded him, Alfred's vast wealth of knowledge effectively served to fill in the gaps and, as such, he was always seen looking his best. This party, however, was a masquerade ball; an occasion in which disguise was encouraged if not mandatory. Many people had incorporated their disguises into a full costume while others - like the Phantom of the Opera who seemed to be overseeing proceedings - had simply worn a mask and little else in addition to their normal-looking clothes.

However, as was often the case, Bruce just couldn't escape his work. He hadn't managed to spot her name when he had skimmed over the guest list, but the long dark hair of Miranda Tate - in reality highly-trained assassin Talia Al'Ghul - was hard for a playboy like him to miss. Formerly a lover of his on numerous occasions, their relationship had been well and truly dented after her father had died at his hands. Then again, after Ra's Al'Ghul had tried to have him incinerated, Bruce'd had little choice. Either the leader of the group who had trained him died... or he did.

With her father out of the picture, Talia had become the League of Shadows' leader and, after suffering considerable financial losses due to funding a project to monetise nuclear fusion - a noble task, given that his prototype generator would be capable of ridding the world of their dependence on both fossil fuels and commericial energy providers - she had wormed her way back into Bruce's life. Taking up a false identity, she had found herself trying to stop the downward spiral of Bruce's company; a process of damage control for which she had to remember to charge him exorbitantly once she had saved his hide. In a business sense, at least.

Bruce, on the other hand, was sticking to the age-old party adage of eat, drink and be merry. Although there wasn't much in the way of food available, the latter two thirds were easily taken care of and had been ever since he had arrived. He had been kissed by a couple of attractive alien women and, with them both having left his company, he was back to getting himself drunk. It had been rather surprising to see a fully tended bar in the living room of this rather meagre household; even more so to learn that the drinks had all been paid for in advance. All he had to do was place an order and he would receive what he wanted, free of charge.

The musical quartet had been commandeered by some strange lyre-toting woman and, almost immediately, he had noticed something amiss. With certain exceptions, it was traditional for a musician to play a stringed instrument with a pick - whether specifically fashioned or improvised - to avoid irritating their fingers with friction. It was a tradition the lyre player had foregone and, with each note she strummed, she was shaking drops of blood from the wounds she had created.

In addition to being rather unfazed by the pain, Bruce noticed that the music itself was having some sort of effect on the other guests. He had already seen a woman give a fellow guest a standing lap dance before suddenly collapsing to the floor and, between that and the sudden make-out session of which he had been on the receiving end, he couldn't help but think that something was up. What made matters all the worse that he was aware that one of the guests was an assassin. If the music caused Talia to lose control over her faculties in the same way as it had done to the others, there was no telling what chaos she would end up causing.

Sure enough, by the time he picked her out in the crowd again, she was unsheathing a dagger and skulking up behind a man dressed as Julius Caesar. It may have been seven months late for it to be the Ides of March, but he wasn't going to have this party be the scene of a murder. Taking off in a dash across the living room, he manoeuvred his way around the stricken guests and, with no real regard for his own safety, he barrelled into Talia's stomach, bringing her to the floor before her weapon found its mark.

"Don't make me tie you up somewhere, Talia," With Talia already knowing his double identity, Bruce saw no point in disguising his voice and, with everyone else preoccupied with the compulsions brought upon them by the strange musician, he saw no real risk in being found out. "Snap out of whatever this is. Now."

Miklagaard has been our home for twenty years or more.
We've lent our axes, spears and swords in service of the Emperor!
We are loyal warriors; that's the oath we gave.
To protect the Emperor, even to a violent grave.
______________________________Amon Amarth - "Varyags Of Miklagaard"

A sadistic smirk crossed her lips as the monarch's serving girl sauntered away with the bottle of tainted wine in her hands. She had seemed almost too eager to please her masters, which made her simple mind all the more pliable. All it had taken was a few encouraging words of advice and she had bought everything. All that remained now was to wait for the inevitable reaction from the so-called monarchy. Unlike them, she truly was a queen and, even though her insufferable brother had returned to take his place as the All-Father's son on the Asgardian throne, she knew damn well what was rightfully hers. Adoption was meaningless to her.

Not wanting her plan to be interrupted by suspicion, Loki waited for a few moments before making her way back into the throng of people in the living room. However, before she could reach the bar and procure another helping of the lacklustre ale they had on offer, another woman strode out into her path. From the blood smeared across her mouth and the fangs nestled therein, it was pretty clear what this "woman" really was. "Ten bucks says you're either wearing a thong, or nothing at all," she remarked, eyeing the goddess' figure. "Twenty bucks says you're not completely averse to having my head between your legs for the next ten minutes."

Loki, of course, didn't seem impressed. "A party filled with Midgardians is insufferable enough," she responsed, glaring at the woman with a derisive frown. After this particular revelation, she wondered which new low the hosts would stoop to next. "But why would anyone bring a draugr here? Are they going to kill you at midnight for entertainment?" Between seeing this strange woman dying and risking insanity and death, Loki would have chosen the former option every time and, if she got to do the killing herself, so much the better.

"I think these are valid theories which need to be tested. Oh, look. There's a free couch." Letting out a small sigh as she followed the draugr's gesture, Loki saw that the couch in question was far from vacant. Although the couch was capable of seating more than just its current occupant - the female monarch whom she was currently joking around by proxy - she doubted that the false queen would have taken fondly to a sudden invasion of her personal space.

Of course, this would have been a concern had Loki been blessed with the capacity to care what the denizens of Midgard thought. As the people caught in the middle of the Nine Realms and surrounded on almost all sides by beings vastly superior to them, their very purpose was to be subjugated and ruled over. As far as Loki was concerned, Midgard was her personal space and these insects were crowding around it. "I don't think she'd mind sharing. Do you?"

"She won't. But I do," she replied tersely. As dangerous as the draugr could be, especially in herds, Loki was far from fazed by the presence of a single member of their kind. The moment she stopped playing nice, she would be flattened under her heel. It was as simple as that. Shuddering slightly as the draugr placed an arm around her shoulders, she reluctantly allowed herself to be turned around, away from the "queen" she sorely wished to see react to the wine her servant was about to bring her.

Instead, she was led over towards a secluded corner of the room where a man in a mask was standing, looking a little flustered by some indeterminate event which had transpired earlier. "I do apologise for leaving so abruptly," the draugr spoke sweetly, almost as if she believed she was a guest here. When she leaned over and planted a tiny kiss on the corner of Loki's lips, the goddess simply growled quietly in the back of her throat. How dare she do such a thing?! "But I just can't say no to a pretty face."

The next thing that happened was sufficient to render Loki frozen with surprise. Rather than kiss the back of her hand in a gesture of respect, which was the first thing that had crossed her mind when the draugr had took hold of it, the flirtatious woman sank her fangs into the veins of her wrist. She had the audacity to stroll into a party as though she were something more than a reanimated corpse and then she had compounded her idiocy by trying to draw and consume the blood of a goddess?!

"I'd be quite happy to share you with her."

That was it. Hefting her sceptre into her hands, she swung it at the draugr's face with all her might. She no longer cared that the Midgardians would be deprived of their midnight entertainment and only wanted to drum into the woman's thick skull a sense of propriety. Just as Loki had her place - above everyone in the room and billions more besides - the draugr had hers. And, like it or not, she would learn it.

"I will be shared with no-one, you dull creature!!"

[Dakari Johessman]

The entire party, with the exceptions of Khalidah and Jordan himself, had now gone over the deep end. The sight of it - of all the individuals given in to his influence and that of Lida's much more substantial power - was more satisfying than even he had expected. This had been a test, an experiment of sorts, and it had met with great success. He was pleased, to say the least.

That didn't change the fact that he was standing around with his pants down. The speed with which Felicia had grown bored of him did not surprise him; he was surprised it hadn't happened sooner. It didn't make much difference either way. The night was still his, and there were plenty of other guests for him to choose from if he wished. All it would take - as he had already illustrated - was a little bit of suggestion.

Readjusting his clothing, he moved over to the bar and helped himself to a glass of wine, as the bartender also seemed to be disoriented at the moment. From there, he watched the party unravel further, his lips forming a subtle smirk.

---

Her dear Caesar was so impressive when he took command of a room. From where she lay luxuriously on the sofa, she smiled contentedly as she watched him, her thoughts already wandering to fairly… pleasant possibilities. A glass of wine, first; that would wrap things together nicely.

The servant brought over the wine; the queen did not miss noticing how brazenly the woman batted her eyelashes. Yet the gesture that might normally have irritated the queen actually… held a certain appeal. Would she perhaps interest Caesar in such a tryst?

Raising the glass slightly, with a coy smirk, she took a long sip of the wine - and immediately spat it back out. What was this? Poison? A bad batch? Whichever the case, it was an insult to her status. Cleopatra hurled the glass, and it smashed against a nearby table. "How dare you!" she hissed, arching her back as though preparing to strike out at the servant.

---

The still-collapsed Fallon was completely unresponsive. Somehow, though, she could hear, and though her eyes were closed, she could see - see the faces around her, hovering over her. Eliza suggesting an ambulance. Hatire screaming something about Westeros and Lannisters. And while she recognized those faces well enough, though they swam in and out of coherence like reflections, a third face appeared that she did not recognize.

It was actually that of Evelyn, currently Wonder Woman, who, after being told off by the vampire, had rushed over to see what was the matter with the strangely-dressed fallen lady. "Give her to me, I'll take her to the hospital," Wonder Woman announced, for of course she could easily fly the victim to the nearest location. But the words that reached Fallon's mind were broken; and the face her mind saw did not belong to Evelyn.

The face was her own.

She was dressed in a long, sheer black gown, and ominous black wings protruded from her back. Her lips were turned in something between a smirk and a sneer. "Pathetic," she spat at Fallon. "Once again, you let someone walk all over you. Typical."

Fallon was groggy. Her body felt stuck in place, numb, present but unable to be used. Only her eyes and lips moved, and those with difficulty. "…what?"

The doppelgänger rolled her eyes. "Are you going to just lie there and let them fawn over you? The comic-book idiot thinks she's about to fly you away. Somehow that strikes me as a bad idea."

Blinking slowly, Fallon tried to process the quickly-spoken words. "Fly?"

Clearly irritated, the doppelgänger snapped her neck and reached forward. "Get up, bitch. Time to do some trick-or-treating."