Dance Party

[Ascendancy]

Nikolai was impressed with Nox’s knowledge of the club, going so far as to elaborate on the identity of the woman on his arm. Nik twisted around to glance upon the distant stage. Admittedly, he recognized the music, but had no idea of the identity of the musician. It just wasn’t the sort of thing that captured his attention.

He was about to accept a return invitation to dance when a clap on the shoulder interrupted. He chuckled at the glib comment regarding a distinct lack of female companionship at the moment. “Beating them off with a stick,” he replied. The last time they were out together, Nik distinctly recalled going home with two brunettes while Armande tucked himself to sleep with a library book. You just can’t compete with tall, dark, and handsome.

He realized then that a name had been offered. He gestured toward the amputee, “Armande, this is Nox. You’re sure to despise him as he is also American,” he laughed. Armande’s tastes were less than admirable for the general American culture and their stereotypical laissez faire attitudes.  He turned back to Nox, “I’m kidding. Americans are very popular in Moscow. It's practically the new Hollywood. Call me Nik.”