11-19-2017, 04:47 PM
In the bathroom, stripped of his shirt, Jaxen frowned at the redness growing on his neck. It didn't really look infected, but definitely didn't look right. The hotel didn't have any kind of NuSkin on hand, so he was forced to dry off the fluid as much as possible and slap some old-school bandaids on the site. With a new shirt on, and as long as he wore his jacket, the high collar obscured anything out of the ordinary from casual investigation. Given that he hoped for a little more than casual investigation by the time the night was done, he'd have to figure something out soon.
A splash of water on his face, Wallet hidden carefully inside his jacket, just let someone try and pickpocket him, and he found himself waiting for Lawrence in the lobby. She was late, though. Of course, after her entrance distracted literally every single person in sight, he grinned and got up from his seat to let everyone know she was his.
"You clean up well for a reporter,"
he smirked and led her to his car. Well, not his car. The Lamborghini Centenario was parked at the back of the lot, a solid twenty feet from the nearest neighbor. It sensed his presence as he approached, lighting to life.
Slipping into the driver's seat, the car purred all around him. The car wasn't the most outrageous he'd even used, but given that he was going to a relatively sketchy part of town to meet his seller, he needed something that attracted less attention than he preferred. The Centenario was something any millionaire's kid would drive. Jaxen preferred flashier. The Lykan Hypersport, an arab supercar, had actual diamonds in the headlights. Diamonds. Oh well, maybe another night.
He checked Lawrence as she joined him, gesturing that she hang on to something and they pulled out of the lot like a flash of lightning. The god of wind was left behind as soon as he landed on the Ring Road, one of the gargantuan freeways circling Moscow. God this felt good.
As they drove, he considered where to go. Even if he was Jaxen Marveet, dressed as he was in slacks, a designer shirt and black leather jacket, pulling up in a Centenario with a hot woman on his arm wouldn't get them into Manifesto. He could probably bribe his way inside, but it would take some effort he didn't care to impress. Besides, there was someone he was interested to see - if she happened to be there.
"Kallisti House of Burlesque is in the Red Light District. Are you up for it?"
Something told him she wouldn't say no.
A splash of water on his face, Wallet hidden carefully inside his jacket, just let someone try and pickpocket him, and he found himself waiting for Lawrence in the lobby. She was late, though. Of course, after her entrance distracted literally every single person in sight, he grinned and got up from his seat to let everyone know she was his.
"You clean up well for a reporter,"
he smirked and led her to his car. Well, not his car. The Lamborghini Centenario was parked at the back of the lot, a solid twenty feet from the nearest neighbor. It sensed his presence as he approached, lighting to life.
Slipping into the driver's seat, the car purred all around him. The car wasn't the most outrageous he'd even used, but given that he was going to a relatively sketchy part of town to meet his seller, he needed something that attracted less attention than he preferred. The Centenario was something any millionaire's kid would drive. Jaxen preferred flashier. The Lykan Hypersport, an arab supercar, had actual diamonds in the headlights. Diamonds. Oh well, maybe another night.
He checked Lawrence as she joined him, gesturing that she hang on to something and they pulled out of the lot like a flash of lightning. The god of wind was left behind as soon as he landed on the Ring Road, one of the gargantuan freeways circling Moscow. God this felt good.
As they drove, he considered where to go. Even if he was Jaxen Marveet, dressed as he was in slacks, a designer shirt and black leather jacket, pulling up in a Centenario with a hot woman on his arm wouldn't get them into Manifesto. He could probably bribe his way inside, but it would take some effort he didn't care to impress. Besides, there was someone he was interested to see - if she happened to be there.
"Kallisti House of Burlesque is in the Red Light District. Are you up for it?"
Something told him she wouldn't say no.