Friday, December 9th, 2016

Kara leaned against the bar, propping her elbows on the cold, polished marble. Her back was just as cold; the single tie holding her silver top closed offered no protection. But she loved the way the cloth draped around the silver halter and showed off skin above and below her breasts. And it would be hot in here soon enough, when the packed jammed with moving bodies. Her skirt was split high in front, and the stone-washed jean material was a casual accent to the fancy shirt.

She glanced around her club, making sure everything was ready for the big night. It would be her first nova performer, and Kara wanted everything to be as close to perfect as possible. The lights were low, leaving pools of darkness near the ceiling. The walls were only lit by soft black lights, which illuminated the murals. They were frescos done in the Italian Baroque style, and every scene was a semi-risqué image of people bathing. No real nudity, sadly, but the drawings were as suggestive as the artists could make them.

The pillars supporting the ceiling had been covered with a faux column suggestive of Greek or Roman style. The bar was painted with a dark golden color while the marble was pale gray. The tables along one wall looked to be a matching marble, but they were a heavy plastic; Kara intended to replace the round tops with real marble later, but she only had so much start-up money. They looked almost right, but they still bothered her, and she looked forward to the day that she could replace them. The black wire chairs were designed to not draw attention away from anything else in the room.

She'd already checked the VIP area; the staircase up to it was guarded by another bouncer and a velvet rope. Red carpet flowed up the stairs to a balcony overlooking the dance floor, and the round tables up there did have marble tops. There was a room off of the balcony that held a second bar and more tables.

Kara glanced at the stage opposite the bar; it was too bad she hadn't gotten to met "Golden Gabe" before the night started. She had been detained by her agent for some legal contract bullshit, and hadn't been able to attend the sound check. Dexter had told her that everything had gone smoothly, and that the night was ready to kick off. And everything looked fine, but four weeks as a club owner had taught her that "looked fine" and "are fine" were very different things.

Dexter was by the door; when she glanced at him, he tapped his wrist. It was time. She nodded to him and he unlocked the door as the two bouncers straightened up. Rashard hovered nearby, looking out of place in his club gear. And Gardenia would be somewhere around here, ready to repair any fashion disasters that might occur. This was as ready as it got.

As the doors swung open and the early arrivals started to come in, Kara pushed off the bar. She needed to head into the back area and find her performing guest before she got swamped with fans.

[6 successes on Appearance+Style]

And in through the door walked Josh Brickman, aka Gatecrusher, up and coming elite and all around party animal. As usual, Josh had a big smile on his handsome face and he seemed more than ready to embrace the world. With red hair and blue eyes, Josh looked like a stereotypical Irish brawler… which actually was fairly accurate.

With wolfish eyes he scanned the bar... and quickly spots Kara, i.e. the best looking woman in the bar, apparently without recognition. With a big smile he heads over anyway.

Josh booms out,

"Hello Beautiful!"

A booming voice catches Kara's ear, and she spins around with a dazzling smile, her hostess mask firmly in place. Her golden eyes flashed over the man before her, noting his handsome Irish looks. "Hello yourself, handsome," she purred, putting a hand on her hip and throwing the rest of her body into a position that invited alignment issues but accented her hips and breasts.

She took in the physique and the attitude before her eyes flicked over his shoulder to Dexter. Her assistant looked up from his PDA and murmured into his microphone. Her hidden earbud whispered, "DeVries. Gatecrusher," in her ear, and with a practiced* burst of recognition, Kara said, "Wait, I recognize you! You're with DeVries... you're Gatecrusher, aren't you? Wow, it is a pleasure to meet you!" She gracefully extended a slim arm. "I'm Kara, and this is my Bath House. Let me introduce you to Hugo, the bouncer for the VIP area, so that you can gain access to the upstairs lounge."

She slipped her arm through his and started to guide him toward the stairs with the velvet rope. "So, sugar, did you come to see 'Golden Gabe' perform, or are you here for someone else?" she asked, a seductive smile curling her lips.

[*3 successes on Charisma+Perform]

From the expression on his face Josh is very impressed with Kara’s alignment. With grace and ease he accepts Kara’s arm and his smile gets even bigger as he responds,

“Oh, I’d say I’m here now for you fair lady… your Bath house? Well, beautiful and talented. Everything looks so attractive and elegant.”


Josh is examining Kara far more than the club when he says that last part.

[*4 successes on App+Style]

Shoot and... score. Nothin' but net. "Did you now? That's awfully sweet of you, darlin'," Kara grinned, her fingertips brushing lightly over his arm as she sauntered to the stairs, drawing him with her.

"Hugo," she said to the bouncer, who looked like he had lifted weight in the Soviet block in the '70's and '80's, "this is Gatecrusher, a DeVries Elite." Hugo's stony expression didn't change. "Be a sweetie and give him access to the VIP area, hmm?"

"Yes, Ms. B'nath," Hugo rumbled, the dim lighting reflecting off his bald head. A dark hand reached out and unclipped the velvet rope, and the massive black man stood to one side. "If you would, sir?"

"I have to tend to a bit of business," Kara said apologetically. "But..." her finger trailed down Gatecrusher's arm as she stepped away, "I'll come upstairs later and find you, 'k?" She eased herself away from him and blew him a kiss as she moved into the club.

Now, to find Gabe, she sighed, not really enjoying all this business stuff. That's what she paid Dexter for: handling the business. She'd rather be in the crowd mixing and meeting, but with a nova performer, she should meet him personally.

What am I doing here? Janet Robinson thought for the hundredth time as she walked through the door of the Bath House, feeling a little self-conscious with her new look. Thank God that trainees didn't get sketched for action figures and comic books until they were further along in the training because what she looked like now was drastically different to her original PR shots.

Her hair was now short and layered, still the same basic dark brown but lightened with streaks, and tinted sunglasses concealed the changeable eyes which made her uncomfortable. So the new hairdo was something she needed to have done a long time, but it was the outfit selected by the stylist that made her more than a little embarrassed. Long-sleeved, off-shoulder top of sky-blue silk, cinched at the waist with a belt of silver-and-turquoise disks that matched the choker around her throat - that was alright, a little different to her norm, but still alright. But on hearing where she was going, the stylist had selected a brief - very brief - denim mini-skirt, fine black fishnets and a pair of knee-high, laced, black leather boots with stiletto heels.

Obsidian had done a double-take - and so did her superiors. On discovering where she was going, a blunt command of "Don't embarrass us' was issued by Caestus Pax himself. Still, her socialisation teacher had advised going out and mingling to get her out of her shell, and so she was obeying.

What am I doing here? she thought again. One reason was to tender a personal apology to Gabriel for the way she had behaved. Another was to meet some of the people from the boards. Yet another was to see how novas partied.

With her eyes hidden and her look so drastically changed, Balm managed to avoid notice as a nova. She would introduce herself quietly to Caramel and leave it at that.

The plane arrived in Miami late, which was not much of a problem. He figured the party would last through the night. John rented a sports car at the airport and sped away towards the night club. Everything was going smoothly until he was pulled over for speeding.

After faking a smile to the officer and taking his $500.00 ticket, John was asked to sign a baseball for the cop's kid. After obliging the officer, John started towards the club once more. He was now in a foul mood. A few drinks and some good tunes would make everything better.

He was wearing his his eufiber suit for the party. For the moment, it was a two piece suit, with a black top, blue jeans and a thin white leather tie. His blue eyes and sparkling light blue skin tone would be a sight to see at the party. I hope they have heard about me, either as a college baseball star or extreme sports athlete. If not, I will spend most of the night answering questions.

He stode confidently into the club and looked around. His eyes stopped on a dark-skinned goddess. Oh my god! That woman is beautiful. As soon as she sees him, he waves and then smiles. "Hi there, I'm John....Longball."

[*3 successes on APP+Style}

In the darkness of the club, Longball's slight glow was clear and Kara quietly noted it. "Hello, John," she answered, her game face back on as she extend her hand again. Her earpiece whispered, and Kara said, "I see you got away from the waves long enough to grace us with your presence. Unfortunately, I don't think that Miami sees the kind of action you're used to... well, the kind of action you're used to in the water, anyway." She added a sultry wink to her last comment.

"I'm Kara, sugar," she added before waving around the room. "Welcome to the Bath House."

John responded to her wink with a slight blush. "..Thank you Kara. You are too kind. I spend so much time travelling around the world, that it is a wonder if anyone remembers me at all."

He offered her his hand, and smiled. "This is some place. It must have taken you some time to get it up and running."

"So, will you be my tour guide..I'd love to see the rest of the place. Oh..and I've had a tough day and need a drink".

*“BLMHTSME” was the vanity plate that screeched to a halt in the Miami parking lot. He was early, and didn’t care. The band would arrive soon Morgan, Reva, and Lucas but until they did he thought it might be a good idea to mingle a bit and get to know his host.

Gabriel Law had arrived, everything else was second page stories. The corporate CEO and lead vocalist/guitarist for ‘Polemic Misanthropy’ stepped out from his Lamborghini Gallado in a manner that oozed with ‘cuz I’m rich, bitch.’

Tonight he was going to try to have a good time. His rejection by Balm, followed by her lashing of insults was still weighing heavy on his mind. Since the botched lunch he had been, for the most part in a rather glum mood. The fans cheered from opposite the velvet ropes. He put on his best smile and waved in return. Caramel’s staff outside had a hard time keeping the novaphiles from jumping over the ropes and rushing but he was quick to applaud their ability to keep the young men and woman back.

Tonight he was dressed as a ‘rock’ star. His tight t-shirt fit his muscled form with out giving the imagination anything to create for itself. The black tribal tattoo that decorated his chest and arm could be seen clearly through the almost sheer fabric. It compliented his faded denim jeans held up with a studded black belt. The give away for the playboy turned rocker/CEO was his brand new steel-toed Doc Martins, immaculately polished and buffed to a shine. No matter how he tried to pull an image off, he just couldn’t bring himself to wear a pair of beat up, faded, and marred work boots.

Walking past the flashes from cameras and screaming fans Gabriel walked through the door way into The Bath House which was well on it’s was to looking like it was going to be a rather busy night. He, so far, saw no one he recognized but he was okay with that. Clicking his cellphone/Opnet deveice/PDA off his belt holster he looked at the time. Plenty.

“Now,” he muttered to himself. “Where does one rot their teeth in this place.” His smile was obvious as the vibe of a party already began to settle in around him and lighten him gloomy mood.


[14 successes on a Style roll - 2 for the polished work boots. Total of 12 successes. *Balm Hates Me]

"Actually," Kara laughed, "this was easy to set up. This was just a quick remodel; before I bought this place, it was another nightclub called Jazz Cats. They couldn't keep their liquor license, and couldn't keep their doors open. So actually, no, setting up the Bath House was painless, relatively.

"I will be your tour guide... right after I find my musician for tonight," Kara promised. "For now, how about you settle against the bar and let my bartenders show you how we kick it, Miami style. And I'll be right back."

She gave him a wink as she gently nudged him toward the bar. Turning toward the back rooms, she started across the room again when her earpiece hummed, "Kara, he just walked in the front door."

"What?" she muttered, spinning back around and scanning the area by the door. "Dex, which one of the people over there is... he...?"

Her earpiece was making noise, but Kara couldn't hear it. Her golden eyes stared at the man just inside the door, the one who looked like he was here to party. And he was... beyond words.

Her mouth went dry as her palms began to sweat. Within a second, Kara was the awkward high schooler again; taller than anyone else, and on the bottom of the social ladder. Oh, Gran Met, do I want him. He was hyponotizing, entrancing. She wanted to worship him; she wanted to fuck him. Someone touched her back, and Kara couldn't move, couldn't take her eyes away-

"Kara," Rashard's voice was a rock in her storm of hormones. His strong hands turned her, breaking the spell. Slowly, disjointedly, she turned and sank into his arms. "You have to talk to him."

"I know," she muttered and pushed away from him. Squaring her back, she slowly approached the man. It was Gabe, it had to be.

Now she knew what the term "overwhelming beauty" really meant.

"Gabe Law?" she asked when she reached him, offering her hand. "I'm Kara B'Nath."

She wondered if his touch was as beautiful as he was.

Gabe noticed her on approach as he turned his head in the process of scanning the place to see who was who and what was what. Wings of an Angel, carry me away, who might this be? She was wow. Perfect in every was a man could imagine, from the simplest curve to her practiced walk that made the cheeks of her ass move in just the right way.

"Gabe Law?" she asked, offering her hand. "I'm Kara B'Nath."

“Ms. B’Nath, ahh, my apologies. I missed you at the sound check earlier.” He took her hand, raised it slowly never taking his glamorous eyes away from her own. “I had heard several rumors of your beauty. So far not a single on has done you justice, you are without a doubt lovelier that words could hope to capture.” He placed a gentle kiss upon the back of her hand. “Please call me Gabe. I hate formalities.”

[6 Succ on Etiquette]

An inconspicuous man stepped through the front door barely noticed by the bouncer. One's eyes tended to look beyond him rather than focus upon him. It wasn't that he was unattractive, far from it, he just wasn't anything special to the extent that he tended to be greatly overlooked.

He tended to blend into the crowd as he made his way to the bar without a word to anyone else. He knew a few of the people already here. He did spare a brief glance in Kara's direction as he passed her and Gabriel Law.

He had driven all day yesterday to get here; yet he did not seem to be the slightest bit disheveled for his trouble. Upon receiving his drink he turned and accessed the scene as it played out before him.

Longball caught his attention, He looked back at the bartender and dropped two C-notes on the bar before him. "Whatever that Nova is drinking, make sure his money is no good here." He said, gesturing discreetly to Longball.

He looked about a bit after that and saw Balm, although all he saw was a very uncomfortable young woman with short brown with highlights, Slate decided to take a chance since he hadn't had much time for flirting since his eruption. He ordered another drink and wandered in her direction. As he wearied through the crowd noticing she was looking in Kara's general direction.

He made it up to Balm, "Evening, you look like you're having a horrible time." He said with a bright smile, he may have been easy to overlook, but he could be quite charming when he wanted.

[4 Succ on App+Style]
[5 Succ of Cha+Rapport]

John knew that as a Nova, alcohol would be useless to take the edge off. Since his eruption, he had drank beer, but it was more for the flavor than the buzz. He was about to ask the bartender what he should drink, when an average looking dude caught his eye.

The man walked over to the bar and placed a couple of 100s down in front of the bartender. He said something to the man, and nodded to John. John shifted in his seat and nodded back.

Because of his minimal interaction on the OpNet, everyone here was a complete stranger. John knew about Nova, but spent so much time travelling and teaching baseball, that he had little time to pay attention to the 'Whose Who in the Nova world'.

After ordering an Ampwell, which the bartender suggested, Longball thanked him. For some reason, his drinks were being paid for. That was what the man must have said to the bartender.Thanks, dude. How did you know I was having a bad day.

He looked over at a roped off stairwell with a large black man quarding it. As soon as he was finished with his drink, he would check it out.

[*1 success on charisma + etiquette]

Thierry strode the streets of Miami; ignoring the odd looks and stares he received as he passed by. Getting to the city had been the easy part and nurse Erickson had been kind enough to donate some of her dearly departed husband’s clothes to him. She had even taken a couple of days to alter a shirt or two and add extra sleeves to accommodate his new arms. Now he just had to find The Bath House.

Thierry stopped to check his reflection in a shop window. He knew he was rather plain looking but he hoped the dressy clothes would help his image. Black dress shoes shone; black pleated pants were neatly press and wrinkle free, and his white button down shirt had the top two buttons undone. None of his attire suggested money but he wore it well. A thin gold chain hung from his neck and a he wore a stainless steel watch on his upper left arm, also gifts from the late Mr. Erickson. I must remember to make an appointment with that Weaver person the next time we talk he mused as he analyzed his reflection.

A few more blocks, and some directions from a rather brave young skateboarder and The Bath House came into view. Thierry entered with neither flair nor flourish and just inside he stopped to take in the setting. A sharp eye caught every detail; the décor, the people, the ambiance. He sauntered over to the bar and ordered a drink before turning back to the slowly growing crowd to search for the evening’s hostess.


[3 successes on Style + App]

Miami.

It had to be Miami.

Not that Tampa's all that much better, mind you, but at least in our little slice of Oakland on the Gulf we're not plagued with Cuban gangs, German tourists, gold-toothed rap stars, trust-fund tit-suckers with Italian toy cars, and more nihiistic cleavage-flashing vapid self-important Beyonce wannabes than myspace.op and livejournal.op rolled up in one.

"What the fuck are we doing here in this shithole," I complained for the tenth time as we walked down the boulevard toward the porn star cum businesswoman's adult establishment. A derelict man looked up at me from where he reposed on the sidewalk, squinting his rotten face into a farcical pantomime of hopefulness, wordlessly (mercifully) imploring me for a share of my riches. I did my best to ignore him. You're homeless in America, you dickhead. You're already fucking rich compared to ninety percent of the entire species.

"Recon," Backjack answered for the tenth time, using only one-tenth as many words as he had used the first time I'd asked.

The Gnostic trudged along as well, looking somewhat dapper if a bit incongruous in a white jacket and trousers that would not have looked out of place on either of messers Crockett or Tubbs.

"No amount of wishful thinking will change reality," The Gnostic said, as if he were delivering the Sermon on Mount Obvious, "At least half a dozen new novas are congregating only two hundred miles from your home. They are young, and bright, and inexperienced."

"Which is how the educated say 'dangerous,'" Backjack finished the thought for The Gnostic.

Ahead, judging by the raucous crowd and the incredible stupidity field which surrounded the establishment the way one of Einstein's disturbances surrounds a gravity well, bending and twisting normal thought until it is as unrecognizable as a funhouse mirror image, lay the club itself.

"Remember, recon," Backjack said, "go in, take notes, make observations, and get out without making a scene."

"Piece of cake," I confirmed, "I don't think I'll have any real need to interact with them anyway." I no more wanted to talk to anyone here than I wanted to talk to a paramecium.

In my denim jacket festooned with a single patch (the "peace symbol," since nobody in this demographic would know what the fuck the CND was anymore), Hanes pocket T-shirt, BDU pants, and scuffed boots, I passed for nobody, which is exactly how I wanted it.

I got in line with the rest of the nobodies and waited my turn to pay the cover charge.

Hand... warm... soft... lips... Had Kara been a robot, sparks would have been flying off her head. As it was, she managed to pull herself together enough to not stutter or drool. "I hope that everything was to your liking," Kara said. She strained to sound warm, flirty, everything that she had been since starting in the porn, but she couldn't quite manage to pull it off.

She wanted to climb him like a mountain, or slide him between her long legs or- She forced herself to stop thinking about that. He was exciting, wonderful, sexier than she had words for... and she could probably get him, at least for one night. But he was here to perform, and it wouldn't be professional to start riding him like a cowboy.

Now, after the show... She gave him another subtle once-over. Yes, she'd have to hit that later. But then doubt trickled in, Someone like that doesn't fuck porn stars.

Great, now she had depressed herself. "Is there anything you or your band need?"

"Is there anything you or your band need?" she asked with those alluring golden eyes remaining locked on his own.

Eye contact, very professional. I like this girl already. He relaxed his grip as her hand slipped away. "You have been more than gracious as well as thorough. We have everything set up, once they arrive we'll be all set." His playboy smile lit up the room, all he was missing was the cliché' sparkle to suddenly flare from one of his teeth.

"Until they do however perhaps you could spare some time to introduce me to a few guests?" He held out his arm, inviting her elbow to lock with his. "The company of angels is always so hard to leave."

"I would be happy to show you around, sugar," Kara grinned, taking Gabe's arm An orgasmic thrill shot through her whole body as their skin brushed and linked. "I've already seen a couple notable guests, and I'm sure we'll see more as the night goes on." She caught sight of a man with four arms leaning against the bar, and she added, "I think I may have seen another."

Strolling over to the bar with the hottest man in Miami - and perhaps the world - on her arm, she angled for a spot near both Longball and Thierry. "Longball, this is Gabe Law, the performer that everyone has come to see. And you have to be Thierry," she said to the four-armed man. "This is Gabe Law, and I'm Kara, or as you know me, Caramel Bath. It is nice to meet you in person."

She didn't mention that her producer had already spoken to her about the possiblity of starring with him, should he sign on. And he'd said homely, but he wasn't ugly, just average. Brown hair, brown eyes, kinda lean, but Kara knew she wouldn't have any problem working with him after she saw his smile. It was a pleasant one, and spoke to a good personality. It would be an interesting match up, with the extra arms. Just the idea was intriguing, and with how much Gabe had ramped up her hormones already, she was ready to do some pre-production practice right now.

Robert was over his head, He had asked Gabriel Law in jest if he could get a ride from Oregon to Miami, Gabe said "Ok, but I won't be able to make it myself, I hope you don't mind a plane ticket and limos"

Robert had to ask for help getting something together, he simply lacked the most basic of styles. After about ten phonecalls to most of his female friends, he had finally gotten together something fashionable enough by his way of seeing it, black slacks, a white cotton button up shirt, a black sports jacket with matching shoes and belt. He looked pretty dark, but its not like he was going there to make a flash, he just wanted to meet new Novas like himself.

He was already in Miami, but that infamous tropical heat had not digged its way into the Limo's AC, Robert was hoping he would not make a fool of himself. He put on his sunglasses, in expctation. The Limo driver told him, they were about to arrive.

One quick stop later, and Robert was walking down the road to the Bath House, a crowd that had been chearing mere moments ago had quieted down, and the Novaphiles started to re-charge their cameras, and clear their voices for the wailing of the next famous Nova; and sure as hell, Robert didn't care, he walked the walk as stylish* as he could, even if it was not very impressive, he must have caught somebodies attention.

He came to the door, and started down to the Bar.

* [App + Style: 2 Succeses]

John was enjoying the drink. It soothed his agitated nerves. At the bar with him was a man with four arms. He was not sure what to make of it, and he kept to himself for now.

Kara approached the bar with an exraordinarliy handsome man. Something about her seemed familiar..he had seen her somewhere before. As for the man, he wasn't sure who he was.

"This is Gabe Law," Kara said to him, as he shook the man's hand. "It's nice to meet you. I am familiar with your music."

He turned to Kara and asked, "What is that roped-off area leading upstairs? Is it open for use?"

After the brief introduction, he watched as Kara introduced the four armed gentleman to Gabe. His mane was Thierry. He seemed to be enjoying a drink as well, and after Kara and Gabe left, John got up out of his seat and walked over to Thierry to introduce himself.

"Hey. I'm John." He takes the seat next to the four-armed man. "How's your drink?"

[*no successes on Charisma + Etiquette]
[*1 success on Charisma + Carousing]

Bellator's form slowly fades in, about 100 ft from the entrance, on the sidewalk. His outfit for the night, a set of BDU pants and top done in "midnight camo" colors. His nova name is stenciled on the top right pocket of the top, and he is wearing a U.S. flag patch on his left shoulder. His cap also matches the color pattern of his clothes. His feet are encased in shiny black combat boots. He slowly makes his way to the entrance, and smiles at the bouncers. After walking inside, he pauses at the entrance, to take in the decor. He whispers, more to himself than to anyone else, "Nice place." and then he moves over to the bar, to order a drink. Once he gets the bartender's attention he orders a bottle of Sam Adams, and hands the bartender a ten and tells him to keep the change. He starts sipping at the beer while his gaze swivels around the room, taking in the masses of humanity, and novadom.


(OOC: PM me if interested in what constitutes Midnight camo.)
[App + Style no successes]

Thierry smiled as Caramel led the musician in tow. She was a radiant beauty with beautiful mocha skin and luminiescent golden eyes. He felt like he could spend forever watching her, bathing in her beauty.

The man at her side, the musician Gabriel Law, stopped his breath. He could scarcely believe the image he saw before him. If Caramel was the essence of beauty then this man before him was something else, something otherworldly almost.

Thierry stood transfixed by the couple for nearly a minute. A minute of uncomfortable silence before he visibly snapped out of his near worshipful reverie. He began to lower his half outstreached hand before he ralized that he had yet to shake either of their hands. "I am in love," he said almost reverently. There was a hint of a accent to his voice although it was impossible to make out. Something European. French maybe?

"I mean! Oh god...I am Thierry. Thierry Maroudas. Oh I am so sorry," Embaressment colored his cheeks and he awkwardly drew back his hand, again before anyone had a chance to shake it.


[1 botch on Charisma+Etiquette]

"Pleasure to meet you gentleman." Gabe firmly shook hands with Longball. and stumbled only for a moment when attempting to discern whether he should shake one or both of Thierry's left hands.

"Well, thank you very much," he addressed to Longball in retort to his compliment about Gabe's music. "We really appreciate that, the band and I get the most from our work knowing that people are actually enjoying what we do. Please enjoy the show."

Get a grip buddy. Short, controlled breaths. Gabriel thought to himself as Thierry suddenly seemed to profess his love from out of the blue. With a roguish smile and a sick dose of suave he gripped the extended hand stumbling only for a moment when attempting to discern whether he should shake one or both of Thierry's left hands. "I get that a lot. Thank you, by the way." He chuckled, it wasn't hard to tell that Thierry has made a faux pas. Being in Thierry's shoes dozens of times before he tried to make light of the slip up and try to move on in hopes of saving him some face. "I do hope you gentleman are enjoying yourselves, our exquisite hostess had spared no expense."

Keeping firmly attached to the hostess, which made sense since she knew all the people and currently was the prime source for assessing the who’s-who of her little event. Silently he observed, and when the need arose smiled elegantly to allow a passerby to absorb a mere dab of his charm.

[4 succ on Etiquette Skill]

Robert walked through that door, and immediately he saw the most Novas he had ever seen since...well, a T2M publicity stunt.

He walked to the bar, maybe there would be people from the boards around, maybe find someone fun. As he approached the bar, he absorbed his surroundings*. A utterly irresistible woman, with an arm hooked on the ultimate pretty boy, both talking to a man with 4 arms. In the bar, a man in Camo, a man almost as muscled as him, and 2 very inconspicuous looking men at the Bar, and on the fringe of his vision, a pretty, brown haired woman on a blue top and a miniskirt.

I wonder which one is Kara...I guess I should have done that OpSearch for pictures of her...on the other hand, maybe it was for the best not seeing her naked before knowing even her voice.

He finally called the attention of the bar tender, and ordered whatever the other two where drinking. I really hope I can get by with what I brought, never been to a club on this side of the country...

Robert leaned on the bar, drinking his AmpWell as he sees the unearthly man give a million dollars smile, He looks like the friendly kind Robert approaches the small group of people, the two irresistible persons and the 4 armed guy. Wait..four arms, there is a big chance that's Thierry..

"Hey there, by any chance, are you Thierry Maroundas?" Robert extends his hand, trying to act tactfully**

*[Per + Awe = 7 Success, if its on you or you are wearing it, he know about it]
**[Cha + Etq = 2 Succeses]

The one thing Janet had forgotten about nightclubs were that they were pick-up central for the 'in' crowd. Living out in Roma had dulled her clubbing skills considerably, including the ability to gracefully brush off uninvited suitors. Still, this guy seemed nice enough, so she decided to be polite to him.

Her smile was sweet, suiting the even features of her face, as she looked at him. "It's been a while since I went out," she admitted in a soft voice, touched with an Australian accent. "I just came here to sit back, meet a couple other novas, and listen to Gabriel Law sing. You?"*

This close, listening to her voice, there could be no doubt it was Balm from T2M - if you'd been following news about her, of course.

*[Appearance + Style = 3 successes]

"That's the VIP lounge," Kara explained to Longball with a wink and a smile. "You don't have to sit down here, just go tell Hugo that I said you could go upstairs. In fact, darlin', that area is for people just like you and me, and a few select guests."

Unlike Gabe, she didn't seem bothered by the profession of love; instead, she chuckled and smiled benignly. Kara had heard this so often that it didn't phase her anymore. But she quietly made a note of it; so far as it didn't got any further, she was good... but if it turned into something darker, she'd deal with it.

And then she saw someone by the door. "Ooo, I see another friend," she smiled, waving to Bellator. Turning back to Thierry and Longball, she said, "I need to introduce Gabe around, so feel free to head upstairs." Her smile became sly as she admitted, "Besides, upstairs is where the good stuff is - the aged liquors, some Ampwells. By all means, tell Hugo I sent you, and have fun."

She tugged lightly on Gabe's arm, drawing him to Bellator. She let go of Gabe long enough to give Bellator a hug. "How have you been? Bellator, this is Gabe Law, our performer for tonight. Gabe, this Bellator, a friend off the boards."

Bellator returned the hug gently with one arm, since the other was holding his beer,"I've been good. And you?"
He then turned and extended his empty right hand to Gabe. "I'm Bellator. It's a pleasure to meet you. So, you're a part of the band that's playing tonight? What kind of music should I expect to be listening to? What do you do? and who is your stylist... never mind... I probably couldn't afford their services." He smiles a bit wistfully, and then takes a long swig of his drink. "Again, it was a pleasure to meet you, Gabe. If you'll excuse me, I think I need to refresh my drink." He glowers at Gabe for a