What Not to Do (Kallisti)

[Meera Alam]

Meera rolled her eyes hard as the spectacle of heretics paraded upon their tiny, red carpet. There were so many more productive events that she could have been spending her energy upon tonight, but the upper crust of the Atharim had insisted that she attend tonight’s festivities. Dossiers on various VIPs had been slid onto her desk through an anonymous informant. The collective eyes had been watching many of the individuals on the guest list tonight and she was to confirm – if possible – which were Gods.

Gods. Such an affront to the Divine. These mortals were nothing more than straw men imbued with unholy energy. Not a single one of them deserved to wield the Holy Light that so rarely sprung forth from the fount of the Divine.

Aiden Finnegan, an American born rockstar, was the latest to arrive in all his vulgarity. Reports of blue flames hovering over his head had been few, but frequent enough to earn himself a place on the List. Jaxen Marveet was another, although the man was all but confirmed as a sinner. He had put on a flashy show some months past that featured a number of tricks that would have been all but impossible without the aid of the Divine’s Holy Light. Still, the Atharim needed absolute confirmation before terminating a heretic.

Meera was not to act tonight. A shame. Tonight was a night for information gathering, and so she tapped mindlessly away at her Wallet as Hercules – her handler for the night – sat patiently behind her, waiting to move the wheelchair at her command. They had a table reserved at the back of the venue, conveniently nestled amongst the shadows.

“Such tasteless clothing,” Meera clicked her tongue as she watched the men prance and posture.

Tonight was going to be a long one and not a lick of blood was to be spilt.

A pity.

[Sage]

Sage hated this part of dating a celebrity. He'd never been about the fame and fortune, he had money. His inheritance and his own well earned means, but still, never wanted the fame. It made what he did even harder. But Aiden didn't need to worry about any black mailing photos or whatever, Sage pulled them down and tarnished whoever's reputation started whatever nasty thing they had to say. But he felt bad for Nox. Somehow his performance had blown up in his face and now there were rich and famous people here.

Aiden squeezed his hand and dragged him along. He wanted to zone out and focus on the people trying to get a word but he had to focus on not losing Aiden. His boyfriend needed him, and he was there 100%. He could review the footage later. Nothing jumped out at him as they forced their way. A message from Nox flew past his 'screen' with a name and an image and a request. Sage quirked a little smile and built the search algorithm and let it run. He'd find whatever he needed on this girl.

Jaxen impeded their momentum and Sage frowned, he wanted to get out of the crowd away from the people. He maneuvered himself around Aiden and hid from the cameras as much as possible. He hated the pictures most of all and standing around gave people plenty of time to snap the candids that he'd have to scrub. Sage Parker lived in the digital world, he didn't want to be part of it. He didn't want to live in infamy only in the ones and zeros of his signature. That was his legacy. Not whatever juicy gossip the fuckheads wanted.

"Can we chat inside, away from the idiots with cameras?" Sage whispered to Aiden. Actually. Sage smile to himself as he let his mind slip into the computer in his head and he found the system that controlled the street lights outside of Kallisti. A few blocks of darkness might move some of the cameras. And make Nox's life a little less out in the world. Sage did wonder how it had gotten so big... Aiden clearly understood the ramifications, but Sage was certain Nox hadn't wanted glitz and glamour and recognition. Something else triggered it. And Sage built another algorithm to search out the beginning of this viral outcry to his show of the gods and fired it off as soon as the first light outside Kallisti dropped its illuminating glow.

Down both sides of the street the lights flicked off. Only the neon glow of the signs all around remained on outside the buildings. The interior lights glowed through the windows, but ever streetlight in a three block radius went out, one after the other until the red light district was really just that -- red lights from the neon signs. Though they weren't all red to be fair. Sage smirked into Aiden's collar as he curled into his boyfriend. "That's better."

[Oriena]

"Seems you’ve caused quite the stir, sweetheart."

She was dressed in black, like shadows summoned to the call of a cruel mistress, still adjusting the earrings in her lobes as she entered the back room. It wasn’t unusual for Oriena to help herself to the decadent costumes as it suited her. The stem of a pale leg peeked between the high split of her swirling skirts; the hideous one, webbed with a pale tracery of scars. Hair fell like spilled ink down her back, smoothed away from her face. Her dark-painted lips sharpened into a cutting smile.

The security screens around them were state of the art. Kallisti had been making good money for a while, long enough that Oriena had grown bored with it. At least until the inconvenient twists in her life since the ball had begun to make it feel like the beating heart in her chest; something as vital to her as fucking or breathing. But while she had directed Carmen to spare no expense in the club’s protections, it was additions like Nox Durante that were the real weapon. An open smirk marked her judgement of his costume, though the way her attention raked him up and down did not speak of disapproval. On the contrary. Though perhaps her sultry interest now was because she knew he would not like it.

Ori was dressed like a goddess, but she had no real inclination to circulate the floor tonight. She sank into a leather-backed chair and crossed her legs. The slit was scandalously high. "Are you nervous, Nox? I could suggest a way to ease you up if you are. There are a lot of people waiting out there." Her gaze brushed against the screens in illustration, a brow half-raised, but the smile on her face was both savage and sensual. She wanted to see him flinch.

[Visha]

Such an inconvenient gatekeeper. Visha gave her name impatiently. She swayed a little while she waited for the bouncer to finish murmuring into his tiny earpiece, the movement almost imperceptible to the eye. Her gaze was intent. He reminded her of one of her Paragon babysitters; always going to the trouble of checking she was telling the truth. Like Visha was stupid enough to get caught in an outright lie.

By now there was a spreading commotion behind. Various cars and celebrities and general yelling. Usually Visha might have been curious enough to turn and watch, but the moment her current nemesis lifted the velvet rope to let her through, her hands clasped together in delight and such distractions were immediately forgotten. Her smile above the bright blue gloves was brighter than the stolen diamonds. There might have been a small squeal of excitement.

She did not hesitate. Not did she feel any remorse for the disgruntled reactions of those closest enough to witness the sweeping way she had skipped the line. She twisted in wonder as the shadows of the entrance swallowed her whole, then gave a wink to the bouncer as she disappeared inside. She supposed he wasn’t so bad after all.

Once within Visha's eyes were quickly saucer-wide and full of wonder for the staggering decadence. Antique bottles glittered like fine treasure behind a large and extravagant bar. The walls were lined with damask, and the dark furniture stood solid and luxurious, as though it had come from another, older world. It was beautiful, like something from a zine. Even the people dripped in jewels and expensive fabrics. For a short while she wandered, entirely and openly enamoured of her surroundings. The smile of her expression was unguarded and self-indulgent. But soon her focus switched to ensuring the best vantage of the stage. Height seemed an obvious preference. Her hand slid up the railing as she went to the raised level, but without her own gloves and their sensory haptics it was a dull exercise, for she could barely feel a thing through them.

A man already occupied the table she chose. Given the way people had finally begun streaming in it seemed likely he was waiting for companions to fill the remaining seats, but finders keepers; she was here first. While he flirted with a woman and a wine bottle, Visha watched. Mostly because he might have been the most beautiful man she had ever seen in the flesh. The glimpse of shirt beneath his jacket was so filmy as to be scandalously sheer, and it made him look scaled as a dragon. But it was the accoutrements at his wrists which pulled her attention, as the shine of interesting jewellery usually did. She imagined sliding free one of the bracelets to admire instead around her own wrist. His watch looked very old too, like something Ephraim would like. It made her realise she simply must ensure she found a souvenir of the night.

"Hi," was all she said as she sat down. Not too close. Raffe was clear on the rules here, and freedom made her feel all kinds of wonderful recklessness, but she didn’t want to mess up before she’d had the chance to experience much of anything. Rules were easy to break; Visha would know. Her grin had a gleam of the wicked, evidently aware she had intruded, but she wasn’t remotely apologetic. Her blue arms crossed on the table, and she leaned in towards the stage like a flower finding sun, clearly both eager and excited for what mysteries might come next.

[[@Seven ]]

[Nox]

The crowd outside grew. And the paparazzi showed up. Cars and limos dropped people off at a fucking burlesque show like it was Manifest. When the fuck did this become that sort of place? And why the fuck for his show?

Nox watched the faces enter. He saw friends; he watched the girl find a place in shadows next to the guy who was with Jay. Nox’s heart sank.

Words over the comms sounded concerned. ”Boss the lights are going out.”

Nox looked back through the screens and glimpsed Sage. ”Just make sure there is no panicking. Just the streetlights. We are good in here.”

”Right boss.”

It was then that their bosses’ boss showed up. She readied herself from the wardrobe and sat down.

”Not exactly sure why this is such a big deal.” He was completely aware of the eyes on him, and the sex appeal she was exuding. Who the fuck didn’t think she was sexy was deluded. But she’d never given him the time of day before, and he was certain now she played games because of Raffe. He wondered if she knew what was going on, but he had no intentions of telling her she’d been right — he fucked it up. He always fucked it up.

She asked if he was nervous and offered sex as a recourse. If he’d jumped at the occasion, she’d likely have taken the offer away. The horde pulled at the offer. A dark smile rose on his lips, but a woman in a wheelchair caught his attention and he growled at the recognition.

He hadn’t been with the Atharim long, but he’d stared at the details of every Atharim’s profile. He knew them because they would certainly know him. She was Atharim.

Nox turned towards Oriena with the smile still on his lips. There was a fight inside. So many things he could say and do and none of them he wanted. ”Not nervous.” It was a lie, and she would know it was. That was sort of the point. She played at manipulation as much as the Ascendancy did. She wanted to be worshiped just like him. And that wasn’t what Nox did. But he wouldn’t disrespect either. And he didn’t mind either of their games. He at least knew where he stood with them. She’d probably hate being lumped in with The Ascendancy too, which made his smile widen.

”At least not enough to take you or anyone up on the offer.” Nox wished he had pockets and he could grab a strip of beef jerky to feed at least one of the fucking hungers inside. Seeing the man with Jay had done little to ease his aching heart for losing that friendship, although he’d ended it before. It just hurt more the second time — it was both physical and emotional.

Nox sat down on the desk near Oriena. ”How much do you trust me to do my job?” He returned her look of appreciation — scars and all. They said girls liked scars. Nox saw strength in whatever a did not destroy the body. Ori was his boss, but she was family to everyone else, even if he’d never seen it. He trusted them, and he’d trust her. And he needed to know if she trusted him to take care of their family.

[Seven]

The server looked back over her shoulder as a gorgeous blonde slid into the next seat. “Told you so,” she mouthed with a smirk. Seven’s attention dutifully transferred to the young lady that sat. She wore a stunning blue dress fit like a second skin with matching gloves that made her arms look about ten kilometers long. His gaze settled briefly on the jewels decorating her face. They were an impressive set of diamonds, all the more for the woman modeling them.

Her voice was sweeter than he anticipated from such an edgy designed look. It lingered like she whispered it in the ear despite being perched a respectable distance aside. “Hello,” he said in turn.

“Wine?” he asked and slipped the bottle left behind from the ice. His accent was displayed intentionally. In contrast, hers was so subtle, he could not place the origin. He poured the crystalline liquid with the sure hand of an expert, then lifted the glass and presented it to her like an offering. She had a figure that drew stares from those nearest, but the youthful vibrance of her face might have given him pause anywhere except Kallisti. If she was inside, she was old enough to enjoy the wine, which left not an iota of hesitation for Seven.

[Nox]

She watched him very closely. He professed confidence, and she wasn’t interested in penetrating the lie. Though the response did make her laugh in an unkind way. The unspoken reasons why were futile on his part. Rafael’s heart was something soft and fragile and ultimately meant for the sun, not the shadowy places where people like Nox and Oriena dwelt. The sooner Nox realised that, the better for him. And for Rafael.

“How sweet.” Rejection did little to ease her impulses. Whatever it was he said, there was a thinly veiled carnality to the way his eyes roamed. It wasn’t something she recalled observing before, but then he seemed a shade apart from the cocky irritation she had first met months before. The bestowal of Carmen’s trust often skewed the edges of Ori’s perceptions, especially since the ijiraq carved out a place inside her skin. Now Kallisti dug its claws into her soul whether she wished for it or not, and family meant more than it ever had. Maybe it was that, though as she watched him perch on the edge of the desk she was not convinced it was. She spied more darkness to him than she had ever noticed before.

The invitation had not been rescinded. His open appreciation of her scars provoked a surprisingly visceral reaction.

“Which job?” she toyed. It came out like a purr. But though she was teasing she didn’t pause for an answer. Something he’d seen on the screens had concerned him. That much was clear. Ori didn’t look at them again, but she did peel from the seat and move closer. Her hands rested on either of his thighs. Not devilishly close, but close enough.

“I trust you because you know what I’d do if you screwed me over,” she said.

---

Ori’s hands on his thigh brought all horde’s thoughts to things he shouldn’t do. He closed his eyes, but then her scent assaulted his nose. She’d recently showered and the light familiar scent he buried himself in Raffe’s neck pulled hard at his emotions and he growled out of frustration and need.

Nox gripped the edge of the desk with the mechanical hand. He didn’t trust its grip on anything. ”I won’t screw you over.” He swallowed hard, his eyes still clamped shut and his heart pounding in his chest. ”I need you to back up.” He growled again, this time opening his eyes and peering into hers. ”A part of me wants to let you do whatever the fuck you want. But that isn’t the part I’m going to listen to. Until he tells me to fuck off, I’m doing my fucking damnest not to let it happen again and you are pushing me past my limits and we have bigger fucking problems than my fucking love life.”

Nox let Ori see the darkness inside. He didn’t bother grasping the power. She couldn’t feel it, but he was not making a threat. But it was there in the undercurrents. He was dangerously close to losing control, and right now. He was pushing fight hard. Ori was not who he wanted to lose Raffe over, completely meaningless and completely under the horde’s control. He didn’t want to ever give in. Even if Raffe left him in the end.

---

Her touch was light, but she could feel the tension it strung through him. He literally growled, and it flooded Oriena with macabre fascination. She didn’t move away, even though he asked her to. The dangerous gleam in his eyes was only likely to draw her closer; it teased sensation all over her skin with painful promise. Honestly his explanation barely registered, though she did notice with a wicked grin that he said again. Talk of limits and control did not appease her inclination to cruelty. Who did he think she was? Her gaze searched through the wreckage of his. She clearly thought about it, especially given how tight he gripped the edge of the desk. Because it would be heavy and hateful and hard.

“You and I are the same, Nox. We burn up the things we touch,” she said, leaning the words close to his ear. “You think you don’t need an outlet? It’ll break you, pretending to be something you’re not.”

Her hands slipped away, but Ori did not. If he wanted the space he claimed he would have to make it himself. The challenge of her expression said as much. “I suggest you talk quickly.”

---

Nox didn’t disagree with her words, but when she gave his space he pushed himself off the desk, knowing fully well how close that would put them. He didn’t push, but he slipped aside. His attraction was better left alone. And the horde just wanted a good fuck.

”I need an outlet Duckling.” He said, feeling the irony as he slipped back to the screens and waited for the camera to pan to the right person. He spoke quietly. ”But right now, sex is off the table. I broke that promise once and as long as there is still a chance, I’ll fight and feed this fucking hunger until my last breath if I have to.” His voice felt hoarse in his throat. It wanted to rip out of him. They didn’t like being denied. Someone trapped them in their little cages and they wanted out. Nox felt them so much more when his mind trapped him with the instincts of the horde.

The screen panned over the woman in the shadows in the wheelchair, and Nox almost missed her for his inner thoughts. ”She is Atharim.” He didn’t turn to Ori, but he knew she might leave at any moment. ”I know you want things. But leave her be. It’s my job to protect everyone here. I can’t let you go after her for their safety. Please trust me. You can abduct her as she exits. I don’t give a fuck, but as long as she doesn’t make trouble for us or the patrons, let it wait till she goes. Please. I need to tell the girls that their illusions and abilities need to be on hold. They know what I am. I’ll help them with whatever they need. But they can’t reveal themselves — not tonight. Who knows what other Atharim snuck in to our home.” He turned to look at Ori with pleading eyes. ”Please trust me.”

---

Storm-dark eyes watched as he stood. Oriena did not give him the space to manoeuvre, but when he literally slipped away she laughed. His disinterest flattened her own. She wasn’t offended, but she was unlikely to forget the chains of the beast she discovered today. For now she returned to her chair to watch his discomfort and whatever it was he deemed so important to share. Ori’s arms draped, fingers drumming the rolled edges. Her nails clicked against the studs sewn into the leather.

Nox was stupid to tell her what he was going to let her do. She dismissed his rejection but it hardly endeared him. Cage her up and she’d bite on principle, no matter the cost – to her or to others. But her attention turned to the woman in question as he spoke, picking out what details she could in the shadows the woman scuttled in. Oriena did not seem as concerned as Nox did, though. They were not hiding here, and the suggestion prickled her with fury.

Fight or fuck, it was all the same to Oriena, and Nox already denied her one of those options.

“Let them bring their fucking war, Nox. I burned their shitty rat’s nest to the ground, and I’ll obliterate anyone who even tries to touch the girls.” The words came out surprisingly hard. Surprisingly cold. It wasn’t often she spoke like that.

“You think I got these playing nice?” A gesture encapsulated the scars that so enticed him earlier, but it was dismissive in its manner. The war was rising in her chest again, and she hated the reminders of the ijiraq’s hold on her. A pained grimace hardened her jaw, darkening her gaze to something tempestuous.

“You aren’t the only one fighting temptation, sweetheart. And I don’t have promises holding me back. Not to you or Kallisti.”

Motivation. Intention. Even Ori didn’t know the inner parts of herself in that moment. But neither did she move. When her attention returned to Nox, the veil of sensuality had drawn back up, but now she was only indolent and lewdly suggestive. A finger traced the flush of her lips. “Might be I’ll just stay here. Enjoy the private show.”

Pleas meant nothing. Nox was unlikely to get a promise out of her. But trust worked both ways. He was clearly dismissed.

---

Nox knew when he was dismissed. Her ire with him made her that much more dangerous. But he left the room and stopped at the exit, leaving his back to Ori even though it was that dangerous.

”The darkness doesn’t have to make us bitter and cold. Even you have a family who love and care for you. Not one you were born to but one that chose you and you whether you like it or not you chose.”

He walked out of small office and paused just outside the door. ”You do know that if you’d made the offer when we first met I would have jumped at the chance. The scars made you stronger. Don’t let them be all that you see.”

Nox walked away from the office trying to talk himself into those words too. He made his way to the wardrobe, he had to make a quick change.

[[ with Oriena ]]

[Kiyohito]

Korii Haruto

Perched in one of the stools at the bar sat a young man obviously alone. He was in his mid-twenties but his face was eternally youthful. A sharp jaw and high cheeks might have painted him severe but for a brightness shining from eyes hidden beneath a mound of black hair that puffed like an anime character. He was comfortable with his solitude, putting a glass of whiskey to his lips and spying his surroundings over the rim. He didn’t fit in with the elite filling the room, but neither was he overtly out of place. Except perhaps for the foreigner’s face. Strange to be the minority, he thought.

The ice clinked, and he waved the attention of the bartender to top him off a second. It’s not like he was paying the bill.
“Why is it getting so crowded?” he asked the bartender as she poured. His English was weighted by the heavy tongue of one newly west.
“The show is about to start,” she explained, nodding at the stage in the distance.  She moved on to serve someone else after that. He watched her move for a few additional moments. He was never into gaijin women, but now he was surrounded by them, he could see himself adapting.

The show was a pleasant surprise. His smile was friendly and sincere, and he studied the curtain with fresh perspective. Haruto had been here to meet someone, not enjoy dancing girls. His luck that the other party was late.

He nestled the fresh whiskey against his chest and leaned on the bar rail for comfort.

[Visha]

When it seemed the show was not about to begin just because Visha had taken her seat, she began to peer instead at the milling people. The shadows and soft lights robbed some of the details she would have liked to observe in order to replay the memories at her leisure. Everything seemed just a little hazy, like a dream. But the subtle pump of music sent little vibrations through her chair, as did the footsteps of anyone who drew too near. She was almost preternaturally aware of the bodies around her. Scent, too, fizzed vibrantly on her tongue. Perfume and aftershave and soap, but also skin and sweat and something else she’d never been sure what to name.

Everyone at Paragon was a sensation like that. She’d been a teenager before she realised it was not just a normal way of processing the world around her. As an adult she barely thought about her own oddities though.

“I wish they would all hurry up,” she confided impatiently, for hardly anyone was actually in their seats. She leaned a little across to him as she said it, voice conspiratorial. Silvery hair tickled over her shoulders, and her cheeks plumped into a mischievous smile. "Though it's interesting watching the people. I never reckoned there were so many different kinds."

She would have said more about what she saw, but for the fact he held out a glass. A gleeful smile accepted the gesture the moment she noticed it. Visha wished she had watched him pour; it seemed like it would have been a good thing to remember for later, for he had the kind of gallant and princely air that would make for a very pleasant daydream. “You had a spare glass,” she teased. She did not much care for whom it had originally been intended, and she supposed he didn’t much care either, since he gave it to her instead.

The simple interaction was utterly novel to her. Beyond Ephraim himself, no one at Paragon enjoyed proximity to her, even when she was covered up toes to throat with her hands pressed between her knees. Visha was used to qualifying and adjusting her every movement to make other people comfortable, something she frequently used to her advantage of course, but at home the glass would have been slid along a table and left for her to collect. As she plucked it from him directly she felt an overwhelming urge to brush against his fingers, but she wouldn't feel much of anything through the leather gloves. With the dulled sensation she was also worried about accidentally snapping the stem. She was stronger than she looked.

Prize in hand, the coyness of her attention shifted from the glamour of the club to her incidental companion. With a little coaxing she wondered what else he might be prepared to give up. The curiosity was perfectly open.

“Have you been here before?”

[Ilesha]

The world moved quickly once she got herself situated. The new job with the consulate studying the power. Her own make shift lab was filling out nicely. Her garage was more than adequately set up for both that and her own private work. And she had a her bike finally brought over from home. Her father worked her mother around to letting Ilesha send for it. It’s not like she wouldn’t be home again.

Though Ilesha was pretty sure it would be a long while. She missed home, but the sights and sounds weren’t completely foreign, just the language still present around the streets. It was like walking around Little Italy or Little China back home. Except this was Russian.

She didn’t have much to wear to Kallisti but there was the dress Claire had helped her purchase. She’d avoided the club. But she still only knew a few people around work, and even fewer of them understood what she was most avoided her and that was a problem in and of itself.

Ilesha wanted to learn more and the only resource she had was Kallisti. And there was this show that had gone viral. The videos were a compilation of a fight at some super secret underground fight club and a show at Kallisti. The flyer to the new show sprinkled in to make it look like it was promotional. Or maybe it was someone thought they were clever to put it all together.

Ilesha didn’t really care why it had gone viral. The guy was cute and when she’d been there last he was nowhere to be seen. So maybe they had more people like her there. He obviously was a channeler from the fight sequences.

The show’s viral status was shown up by the limos and fancy cars that arrived and departed while they all stood in line. The street lights went out one after the other and the crowd outside started to panic. But the crew from inside handling things quickly and they were all ushered inside where the lights still worked and nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

In the hubbub outside she noticed a familiar face in the distance and looked around for her. She hadn’t met the Dr Zayed in person yet, but she knew her face and had passed her in the halls. She knew someone outside of the girls she’d met earlier. And maybe she’d feel less uncomfortable with the whole thing with a friendly face with her.

”Dr. Zayed. Hi. I’m Ilesha Fisher. We work in the same building. I didn’t expect to see anyone familiar here.”



[[ ooc: making the assumption since Ilesha works for Marcus they’d have run into each other in passing in the halls somewhere lol]]