Da Capo (Manifesto)

[Seven]

The warning of potential bombs - glitter, slime or otherwise - left Seven in a dramatic pause revealed by the flare of his eyes and the waving of his palms. Chuckles belied his true hesitancy although he did delay his investigation long enough to share a story. 

“It all started when a colleague of mine inherited a treasure trove in an old storage locker in Warsaw…” A good five minutes later, Seven summarized with an emphatic warning: “Glitter warfare is not a trivial matter, friends!”

Finally, he was back to the matter at hand, accepting the coin for final inspection. He appropriately ooh’d and aww’d at it, even holding it up to the light and turning it every which way and what. “It is quite an intriguing design, isn’t it?” he said to himself as much as to the group.

Finally, just for laughs, he bit the coin with his teeth. A smile widened around the metal. “Just like in the movies, I’ve always wanted to do that,” but he promptly took a long-drink to wash away the lingering taste.

He offered the coin back to its owner, having completed his inspection. “What would you like to know?”

[Cruz]

Cruz laughed at the story like a good companion. Glitter bombs and stories not withstanding the man was an entertainer at the very least. His friend however seemed a little perturbed by something. Maybe it was just the commoner among the rich folk problem. The idea that someone didn't belong could play a big effect on their mood. Nox was much the same way, he felt more comfortable in the drab and dreary basement then in a room upstairs. Of course Elsie hadn't made matters any better, sleeping with someone else under the same roof, that was dangerous on good days. But that seemed to be going around. Even his mother finally pulled the rug from under his father's feet. Good for her.

But the question drew Cruz back to reality to the people in his present. He shrugged as an answer. "Anything of note, a possible clue to it's origins. Anything." Cruz grinned. "Even another story might do it justice and at least provide us with a bit more entertainment for the night." Cruz pocketed the trinket in the hopes that it would one day lead somewhere fabulous. Or at least provide idle conversation in his own study or library -- one day.

[Xander]

Xander rolled his eyes at Seven's antics. Biting the coin. At least his audience took it for what it was. The kid didn't want anything more than free information. Even a lie would have suited him just fine, and he pretty much admitted to it. But there was a story to the coin. Xander didn't know what it was. He saw flickers of images, mostly around Cruz while he held the coin.

There were dark tunnels, and smoke filled caverns. Slithering shadows dripping and shaping the things it touched. The vision passed as quickly as it had set on, and Xander reached for his now empty glass with disappointment. "Fuck!" he mumbled under his breath.

The boy watched Xander. "What?" he growled. Though he quickly apologized. "Sudden headache, sorry."

"You saw something?"

Xander laughed. "I see a lot of things. You, The lovely Ms. Zeyha. Seven. All these fabulous people." Xander tried to make it a sarcastic joke.

Cruz smiled. "What did you see?"

"What makes you think I saw anything important?"

The boy growled slightly. "Everyone here can do extraordinary things. I have a friend who says that people see things. Dangerous things. Or weird things. Visions. Prophecies."

Xander growled. "You know a snake?"

Cruz laughed. "He's not a snake."

Xander rolled his eyes. "This man has a serpent eating its own tail tatooed on his left forearm?" Xander didn't need confirmation. "He's a snake. Stay away from him. He'll no sooner kill you for what you are than you would killing a spider."

Cruz grinned. "His tattoo is gone. Lost it in a fight with a monster. But he is the one who taught me to do what I do. And several others. He's not going to hurt me, or you. But I beleive you if you say you saw something."

Xander growled. "I didn't see anything." He turned to the bar and tried to get the attention of the bar keep. He needed another drink damned the prices.

[[ ooc: The vision Xander saw eludes to the fire and the monsters from the tunnels hunting thread and the one where Raffe and Zek are posting the same time frame. ]]

[Seven]

While Seven considered the details of his investigation, his friend seemed overcome by some sort of spell. It lasted only a moment and concluded with profanity and a drink. Z declared himself the victim of a sudden headache, and Seven was genuinely concerned. They had together partook of a great deal of alcohol over the course of the evening, and watery intercessions were few and far between. There were pharmaceuticals that could counteract the mal-effects of alcohol, and Manifesto no doubt offered some on their menu, but before Seven may place the order, Cruz’s interrogation monopolized the conversation. The young man certainly seemed intent to dislike their new acquaintance. It could be for no more reason than mere posturing between men, and the rich and powerful were even more likely to posture before threatening company. But what threat was there to be found in Z? American, indeed. A trueborn Moscovian like Cruz may take offense to western infiltration, but with the world being so small a place these days, it seemed unlikely. Vanity produced many tensions. Z wasn’t unattractive a male, and there were many handsome faces in Manifesto: Cruz himself included. It had to be the threat of powers unseen, and Z was a prickly thing. Whatever the rift forming between Cruz and Z, Seven would bridge the divide.

“I am always in the foulest of moods when beset by something so terrible as a headache,” he said with such drama that the others laughed in response. “I’m sure we can find a pharmaceutical that can alleviate the suffering,” he added and promptly placed an order for everyone. “And who are we but a group suffering from my droning on and on! Unfortunately, you must endure me a while longer so I may fulfill Ms. Zhenya’s important commission,” he smiled and offered his old friend a conspiratorial wink.

To the coin, he gestured at Cruz’s pocket where the treasure was hidden away. “Your coin is an interesting find. While it is not as old a trinket as what I am most experienced in delving, but it is quite rare as much as I understand it, only to be traded by obscure hands,” he said. Then, just like some sort of ill-spirited cloud infused the group, the secrecy of Seven’s voice settled to hush tones like they spoke of something forbidden. There was an amusement in him, though, with the way a master spun a tale. “A calling card to the underworld,” he said at last.

[Cruz]

A calling card. The words rang through Cruz as if he'd stumbled upon their true meaning. And if that were the case then he only had one person left to talk to. And talking wasn't even required. A picture and Sage would track down whatever he wanted to know. That was the beauty of having a friend who was a good hacker. Even if he got caught doing stupid things. He was better now. But this Z character had a story to tell. But he didn't like Nox and he'd never even met him. That irked him more than the fact he refused to talk to him about what he'd seen. But he gave up.

Cruz bought another round, and pressed a kissed to Zhenya's cheek. "My friends, my grandfather won't look kindly on a late night for his newest VP on a school night." The company image was far greater than the connections he could make in Manifesto. But he had a good night. "Thank you for your friends assistance. I owe you both a debt." Cruz handed Seven and Zhenya's his official card and tucked on into Z's front pocket with a pat. "I truly would love to hear about whatever it was you saw. There is nothing I wouldn't beleive."

Cruz waved farewell and snuck out the block entrance. His so called friends still tried to get inside. But it wasn't hard to slip past them and into the cold night. He had much to deliberate and a friend who he hadn't spoken to in a while was all but a phone call away. But that would be in the morning.

[Xander]

The boy left and then they were three. Whatever bit of relief he'd gotten from the pill Seven ordered had helped with the vision'd headache, but still he didn't dare look directly at either of his two companions. The boy had left with more swirling images after Seven had given him a clue. Xander didn't like the looks of the path that boy was about to take. The card in his pocket felt like a bright hot poker stick and he wanted to be free of it's influence asap. But that was rude in such a place, and he would be on his best behavior if only for Seven's company.

Though he was afraid that his bright and shiny self was tarnished with the visions that plagued him. Sometimes he just had to fight through it, see it and expell them. But not in Manifesto. Here was not the place to reveal any secrets or see them either. To many people. And not a good place to find a mark. Not that he was looking. It had been a day of relaxation and adventure -- now it was pain filled and nauseating.

Xander didn't mind waiting for Seven to finish whatever business he had with their hostess. If it weren't for the images it would have been a beautiful sight to bear. And with a deep breath Xander watched, looked and saw whatever it was the cosmos wanted him to see tonight. At least the people were beautiful.

[Zhenya]

The men postured amongst themselves, and Zhenya was content to leave them to it, especially when Seven so beautifully handled the foolishness with his usual grace and aplomb. Then, on the heels of answers, Cruz was gone in a cloud of charm and exuberance. Zhenya was amused but not offended, though perhaps she might check in with the boy’s grandfather in a few days. A calling card to the underworld did sound a little ominous, and she would be aggrieved if the evening’s amusements ended up in true harm.

Seven’s companion fell quiet in the aftermath. The toll of his unusual gifts perhaps; he barely seemed able to look at either of them any more. Or else perhaps a symptom of him being so very out of place in his environment. Either way Zhenya took some small pity on his sufferance; he had been nothing but complimentary to her. She slipped an arm about Seven’s waist, leaning to press a kiss upon his cheek. "I fear your friend is wilting, and may need tending," she said, laughing a little as she caressed a thumb to wipe the glossy mark left by her lips. "You will not think too badly of me if I take my leave."

She did not move to touch Z, though it was out of consideration for the apparent strain on him, and not coolness on her part. A discreet touch at the slender bracelet on her risk alerted Yulian as to her intentions to leave; the car would be ready before her feet left the threshold.

[Seven]

After everyone departed, Z and 7 re-integrated back into the club’s main space. Time stretched to indecipherable hours. For Seven’s part, he had a ton of fun. They danced, both with each other and others that mingled in and out of their proximity. New groups were met, and more drinks and substances were liberally shared. When the club was near to closing for the day, dawn was creeping around the edges of the sky. Before departing, Seven made sure to tell Z to stay in touch so to go out again next time.