11-16-2013, 09:38 AM
A few minutes and Jaxen quickly figured out the Privilege was not here. All this hype for a big fat nothing. Well. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the window - unconstrained hair, smouldering eyes, ornery expression, and a shimmering red jacket - definitely not for nothing.
At least the champagne was decent. His fingers twiddled through three tart glasses before he finally felt the pleasant return of disinhibition squeezing his mind with warmth. Oriena, the social little butterfly that she was, nestled herself someplace with a view while Jaxen found himself pulled into a mob of bodies, laughter, and decadence.
Through square shoulders and piles of hair, he checked up on her once in a while. She appeared none too entertained. Even with a spectacle such as himself to tantalize the senses. Which was how he came up with the idea to raise the stakes a little. This would be the second show of the night he'd put on for her. Surprisingly, he didn't mind the effort. Not when the pay offs were so fucking fun.
"Zayed!"
he exclaimed, arms thrown excitedly wide in the air upon greeting a generally well-recognized face. Zayed was a government Assistant Custody Attorney: known enough to throw some weight around, but not so high and mighty as to make fake knowing the man implausible. The Muslim fellow's face blanked briefly during Jaxen's familiar welcome. However the fact that they'd never met before now was quickly erased from the weasley little man's expression. He would rather play along than offend some nouveau riche fucker. And dressed as outrageously as he was, Jaxen was certainly a member of the club.
"Marveet. Jaxen Marveet. That thing two months ago, yes?!"
Jaxen planted assurances in the man's head. Hilarious that a lawyer didn't catch on to the trick. All the more ridiculous that the man never felt the cup of Jaxen's palm wrench a ten thousand dollar timepiece off the man's wrist while they shook hands. He drew a long, elated breath, beaming with satisfaction all the while.
He pulled Custody Attorney Zayed into his side and laid an arm around his shoulder, leading him toward the edge of the throng amid small talk and catching up on one another's families. The laces of the man's shoes were tied up bunny-ear style. Which meant he either had a rough time learning how to tie his shoes or he had a kiddo crawling around the house at home. A lucky shot the man did in fact have kids. While Jaxen was tuning out the details about some sort of piano recital, he dangled the expensive silvery band that formerly occupied the man's wrist behind his back as they walked away, and flashed Oriena a disappointed look on Zayed's behalf. Poor dumb fucker.
Jaxen could care less about pocketing a watch. What the hell was he going to do with something like that? So after another twenty seconds of tuning out the man's story about some kid named Balal or Babal or whatever, Jaxen shoved him away and hopped onto target number two. Where another series of friendly patdowns led to straightening the man's pocket square, trading drinks from hand to hand, pointing out a smudge on his cufflink, and finally strapping Zayed's watch on the man's free arm without his noticing. Early birthday brother. Hope the good lawyer doesn't catch you with his shit before the night is over.
He milled about for another few minutes, assuming Oriena would be mildly entertained for at least as long as Jaxen was while swapping goods from one oblivious body to another. All in plain sight, of course. The art of distraction was his play, not the sleight of hand, though he was a master at both. He wasn't a fucking magician. But he did get a kick out of illusion.
On his bucket list was to pick something off every person that sat their lazy ass on a seat of the Sphere, and of course the Ascendancy himself. But without a Privilege present, even Jaxen grew bored. Before abandoning the mischief altogether, he sized up almost everyone in sight one last time, including the servers, for a final chance at some fun. There was only one last interesting looking fellow in the whole bunch. Some guy shoveling food in his mouth like he hadn't eaten all day. Jaxen's eyes narrowed with intrigue and touched a hand to an eager stomach. Hungry and bored. That meant there was only one obvious alternative. Get a snack.
The guy plucking his way through the spread was one ugly son of a bitch. Or well, maybe he wasn't so bad. But Jaxen couldn't get past the guy's polyblend threads. Big fellow too. As Jaxen was not too interested in getting punched in the face any time soon, he meant to keep an eye on the big black bear. It was a good reason to stay wary of someone, but there were little things about the guy that tripped Jaxen's urge to do something daring. The clothes were only part of it. This was a fellow undisturbed by the lack of socializing. A little bubble of space had formed around him, and he hadn't even known it. The way he stood. And his survey of the room. So like Jaxen's. This was a guy who saw more than most. He had cop written all over him. Or worse, detective.
Jaxen itched to know how good he was. From a Tahitian beauty on the way over, Jaxen snagged what was at least a twenty-carat diamond ring from her finger after kissing the back of her hand. Rings were the easiest to get off, though he was tempted to go for the matching 200 carat necklace draped into her cleavage. He winked at Oriena after walking away with the little sparkling prize now concealed in his pocket. The necklace he'd get later.
Jax hopped up to the stretch of food alongside the potential cop, pat the guy on the back of the shoulder and leaned around him, taking in a good long whiff of scents. Middle eastern spice tantalized. Oriental ginger zinged. Breads and cheeses glistened. "You, sir, have the right idea! What's your recommendation here, brother?"
He asked black bear, gesturing over the array with his freed hand and with the hidden dropped the diamond ring in his pocket while his mind turned over the questions, distracted with framing his answer.
About then, a blast of air threw open the doors, sending skirts high, jostling bodies out of the way, and shoving champagne from trays in showers of shattered glass.
Jaxen steadied himself against the table and gasped in surprise like everyone else, but it wasn't the shocking breech of weather that seized his muscles tight with adrenaline. It was the curtain of cords shooting through the space that drew him like a moth to a bright flame.
Like a good hero should, he left Drayson behind and bounded to Oriena as though to make sure his date was alright, but as he cupped her elbow in his palms, he whispered the epiphany, fire frolicking true revelry in his eyes. "Small fucking world,"
he grinned mischievously and pulled her onward.
They rounded the corner where the source of what he'd felt originated, and realizing who was there, Jaxen stopped dead in his tracks. "Small. Fucking. World."
He said to himself as a brief flash of fear darkened his expression. Though Oriena at his side likely heard, and saw, he recovered quickly, and was once more the smirking shield of himself.
A lonely napkin curled on the air between the two groups before coming to rest in the aftermath of the unnatural gust of wind. Somehow, White was going to blame this on him. Well. If he was going to be punched in the face, he might as well look good right up until the moment of. He crossed his arms and dipped a nonchalant shoulder against the wall. "Hand to God, White."
He called down the hall. Was that Spectra fucking Lin? Damn. "I didn't do it."
The other two he studied thoroughly meanwhile. Unless White was in the closet, one of the other two idiots was like Jaxen. Figuratively, anyway. Nobody was like Jaxen.
<small>((Oriena and Drayson's moding done with permission))</small>
Edited by Jaxen Marveet, Nov 16 2013, 09:45 AM.
At least the champagne was decent. His fingers twiddled through three tart glasses before he finally felt the pleasant return of disinhibition squeezing his mind with warmth. Oriena, the social little butterfly that she was, nestled herself someplace with a view while Jaxen found himself pulled into a mob of bodies, laughter, and decadence.
Through square shoulders and piles of hair, he checked up on her once in a while. She appeared none too entertained. Even with a spectacle such as himself to tantalize the senses. Which was how he came up with the idea to raise the stakes a little. This would be the second show of the night he'd put on for her. Surprisingly, he didn't mind the effort. Not when the pay offs were so fucking fun.
"Zayed!"
he exclaimed, arms thrown excitedly wide in the air upon greeting a generally well-recognized face. Zayed was a government Assistant Custody Attorney: known enough to throw some weight around, but not so high and mighty as to make fake knowing the man implausible. The Muslim fellow's face blanked briefly during Jaxen's familiar welcome. However the fact that they'd never met before now was quickly erased from the weasley little man's expression. He would rather play along than offend some nouveau riche fucker. And dressed as outrageously as he was, Jaxen was certainly a member of the club.
"Marveet. Jaxen Marveet. That thing two months ago, yes?!"
Jaxen planted assurances in the man's head. Hilarious that a lawyer didn't catch on to the trick. All the more ridiculous that the man never felt the cup of Jaxen's palm wrench a ten thousand dollar timepiece off the man's wrist while they shook hands. He drew a long, elated breath, beaming with satisfaction all the while.
He pulled Custody Attorney Zayed into his side and laid an arm around his shoulder, leading him toward the edge of the throng amid small talk and catching up on one another's families. The laces of the man's shoes were tied up bunny-ear style. Which meant he either had a rough time learning how to tie his shoes or he had a kiddo crawling around the house at home. A lucky shot the man did in fact have kids. While Jaxen was tuning out the details about some sort of piano recital, he dangled the expensive silvery band that formerly occupied the man's wrist behind his back as they walked away, and flashed Oriena a disappointed look on Zayed's behalf. Poor dumb fucker.
Jaxen could care less about pocketing a watch. What the hell was he going to do with something like that? So after another twenty seconds of tuning out the man's story about some kid named Balal or Babal or whatever, Jaxen shoved him away and hopped onto target number two. Where another series of friendly patdowns led to straightening the man's pocket square, trading drinks from hand to hand, pointing out a smudge on his cufflink, and finally strapping Zayed's watch on the man's free arm without his noticing. Early birthday brother. Hope the good lawyer doesn't catch you with his shit before the night is over.
He milled about for another few minutes, assuming Oriena would be mildly entertained for at least as long as Jaxen was while swapping goods from one oblivious body to another. All in plain sight, of course. The art of distraction was his play, not the sleight of hand, though he was a master at both. He wasn't a fucking magician. But he did get a kick out of illusion.
On his bucket list was to pick something off every person that sat their lazy ass on a seat of the Sphere, and of course the Ascendancy himself. But without a Privilege present, even Jaxen grew bored. Before abandoning the mischief altogether, he sized up almost everyone in sight one last time, including the servers, for a final chance at some fun. There was only one last interesting looking fellow in the whole bunch. Some guy shoveling food in his mouth like he hadn't eaten all day. Jaxen's eyes narrowed with intrigue and touched a hand to an eager stomach. Hungry and bored. That meant there was only one obvious alternative. Get a snack.
The guy plucking his way through the spread was one ugly son of a bitch. Or well, maybe he wasn't so bad. But Jaxen couldn't get past the guy's polyblend threads. Big fellow too. As Jaxen was not too interested in getting punched in the face any time soon, he meant to keep an eye on the big black bear. It was a good reason to stay wary of someone, but there were little things about the guy that tripped Jaxen's urge to do something daring. The clothes were only part of it. This was a fellow undisturbed by the lack of socializing. A little bubble of space had formed around him, and he hadn't even known it. The way he stood. And his survey of the room. So like Jaxen's. This was a guy who saw more than most. He had cop written all over him. Or worse, detective.
Jaxen itched to know how good he was. From a Tahitian beauty on the way over, Jaxen snagged what was at least a twenty-carat diamond ring from her finger after kissing the back of her hand. Rings were the easiest to get off, though he was tempted to go for the matching 200 carat necklace draped into her cleavage. He winked at Oriena after walking away with the little sparkling prize now concealed in his pocket. The necklace he'd get later.
Jax hopped up to the stretch of food alongside the potential cop, pat the guy on the back of the shoulder and leaned around him, taking in a good long whiff of scents. Middle eastern spice tantalized. Oriental ginger zinged. Breads and cheeses glistened. "You, sir, have the right idea! What's your recommendation here, brother?"
He asked black bear, gesturing over the array with his freed hand and with the hidden dropped the diamond ring in his pocket while his mind turned over the questions, distracted with framing his answer.
About then, a blast of air threw open the doors, sending skirts high, jostling bodies out of the way, and shoving champagne from trays in showers of shattered glass.
Jaxen steadied himself against the table and gasped in surprise like everyone else, but it wasn't the shocking breech of weather that seized his muscles tight with adrenaline. It was the curtain of cords shooting through the space that drew him like a moth to a bright flame.
Like a good hero should, he left Drayson behind and bounded to Oriena as though to make sure his date was alright, but as he cupped her elbow in his palms, he whispered the epiphany, fire frolicking true revelry in his eyes. "Small fucking world,"
he grinned mischievously and pulled her onward.
They rounded the corner where the source of what he'd felt originated, and realizing who was there, Jaxen stopped dead in his tracks. "Small. Fucking. World."
He said to himself as a brief flash of fear darkened his expression. Though Oriena at his side likely heard, and saw, he recovered quickly, and was once more the smirking shield of himself.
A lonely napkin curled on the air between the two groups before coming to rest in the aftermath of the unnatural gust of wind. Somehow, White was going to blame this on him. Well. If he was going to be punched in the face, he might as well look good right up until the moment of. He crossed his arms and dipped a nonchalant shoulder against the wall. "Hand to God, White."
He called down the hall. Was that Spectra fucking Lin? Damn. "I didn't do it."
The other two he studied thoroughly meanwhile. Unless White was in the closet, one of the other two idiots was like Jaxen. Figuratively, anyway. Nobody was like Jaxen.
<small>((Oriena and Drayson's moding done with permission))</small>
Edited by Jaxen Marveet, Nov 16 2013, 09:45 AM.