Robert from the N!Prime boards? As she eyed the towering newcomer with the broad grin, the name clicked into place. He'd spent a significant amount of time in the OpNet chat room pressing her about her philosophy which, admittedly, wasn't a common one. Fortunately, Constantin had already impressed upon her the likelihood that she would be misunderstood, and so she was never greatly surprised when it happened. Still, it was frustrating that those who should be her peers seemed all too willing to ignore who and what they were in favor of playing matchmaker on what might as well have been called "NovaSpace" or drowning themselves in alcohol and cleavage.

Her black lips flattened into a thin line of irritation and she shook her head to dispel the creeping ire that tensed her spine. Not now. I'm supposed to be practicing.

"Yes, well. This definitely does seem to be quite the hotspot, so I suppose I'm enjoying it as much as possible," she replied, completely without sarcasm. "It's not exactly suited to my personal preferences, but to each their own," she sighed. "In any event, it's always a pleasure to meet one's peers, even in less than favorable circumstances." After a moment's pause, she added, "I do remember you, from the OpNet chat room on those forums. I'm pleased to see that you've managed to escape for a bit. Education is important, but one can't be all work and no play, mm?"

Though her attitude was slightly more formal than a nightclub might require of its patrons, and her expression reserved, the even modulation of her voice was surprisingly polite- if not warm or effusive.

[3 successes on Cha + Etiquette. Carousing's a bit too exuberant for her.]

Kara almost slipped her skin. Thankfully, she remembered the crowds and stifled her reaction, as well as her reaction to scream for Rashard. "Changeling?" she said, swallowing her heart. Her shaking hand remain pressed to her shirt, though, covering her pounding heart.

"I am Kara," she said, squeezing the words out. He's a shapeshifter, but he's way more powerful than me, she thought, hiding her distress at the idea. She had tried to do forms other than cats, to no avail.

"Well, next time you don't want to scare someone, sugar, don't hide as their chair, ok?" she said, carefully extending her hand. Wouldn't it be fun if he was my first nova stalker? There was no joy in the thought, and Kara pushed the thought back in her head. No point in borrowing trouble.

"Again, Miss B'Nath, I apologize. I tend to have a....flair for the dramatic. I think it has something to do with being British."

When he touched her hand, he felt her pulse racing. He truly felt bad for scaring her.

"This is some place you have here. I arrived earlier as a fluff of down on one of your patron's clothing. I can tell you, from what I have been hearing, that everyone is most pleased with your establishment."

The funny part about becoming another shape is that perceptually, things looked different from his human form. The club seemed larger and more crowded than it did before.

Digging into his pocket he produced several bills and held them up with a big smile. "I'm thirsty, would you like to accompany me to the bar for a drink. You look like you could use one. Besides, I owe you a drink."

Bellator grins and as they move through the crowd he extends his power into Weaver. "Hold on. We'll be there shortly." As they walk, they fade out, only to fade in at the top of the stairs leading to the VIP area. "There we go." He sighs happily and is led over to a table overlooking the dance floor and stage.

He draws back a chair for Weaver to sit in, acting the part of the gentleman. He then assists Weaver in pushing the chair in, very carefully. After he sits in the opposite chair, he takes a long sip of his beer and smiles. "Actually, in my line of work, before I retired, competition was side-effect of camaraderie. But I gather that the competition in the fashion industry is much more cutthroat than what I'm used to."

Weaver looked around for a moment as she found herself standing at the top of the stairs, somewhat surprised, awed and amused all at once.

“Neat trick. Even with the eyes, I still think you lucked out in the quantum lottery.” she mused to Bellator as they moved over to the table and took a seat.

“We each operate in different fields though. You doing well in your competition did not hurt the others. In my industry, for every garment I sell, that is one less somebody else sells usually. And if I do really well, I could have a significant impact on sales for many designers. I stand out that in the unique talents I can offer as a consultant, especially for those with Eufiber. It is considered bad taste to be open hostile to other designers, but you get to see a lot of ‘nasty nice’. That is not to say everybody is like that though. I certainly have friends in the field, some of which are competitors, but I also have a few people who would certainly like to see me fail. Nature of the beast, I suppose.”

"Yes, you do owe me a drink," Kara said, laughing softly. She was starting to feel better and she took his arm with only the slightest shiver of trepidation. "Though you know, you are just buying me my own alcohol." She laughed charmingly at the look on his face. "Come on, let's get that drink and we'll say it's the thought that counts."

As they walk back, Kara smiled and said, "Thank you for the compliments. I've worked hard for this place, and I'll be in debt for a while... but I've had a good first month, and I think we'll be alright."

"Say, would you like to meet some other novas?" Kara tugged lightly on his arm. "I left a group of them somewhere by the bar."

Balm smiled and nodded to everyone, playing the social thing until the performance.

Thierry watched the flow of people around him. It is interesting how the Novas here all seem to gravitate towards one another. he thought. He watched the crowd feeling somewhat uncomfortable knowing people, both the Baselines and Novas, were staring at him.

The drink in his upper right hand was bittersweet, a mixture of cranberry juice and several different alcohols, and he sipped it gingerly as he greeted the few who came up to speak to him. Finally though the staring eyes became too much and Thierry made his way to the stairs leading up to the VIP lounge.

The big brute guarding the stairs stopped him dead in his tracks and instantly about 10 ways to disable the mammoth without serious permanent damage flashed into his mind. Thierry decided instead to simply tell the bouncer who he was and a moment later he was acending the stairs.

"That would be great. Lead the way." Changeling said with a wide grin. As they walked towards the bar, he leaned in towards Kara and whispered. "I know several Nova in England, but I have not personally met any Yanks...other than you."

They approached the bar and Zachary saw several individuals who caught his eye. One of them had 4 arms, but he was getting up and heading towards a starwell. "I guess I'm not the only one who stands out." He laughed to Kara, obviously alluding to his 'blending in' as a chair.

"May I?" Changeling asked Kara, as he pointed to her silver top. "I want to try something?"

Changeling touched her silver top. He pushed a mental image of a housecat through his Node. After 20 seconds, a silvery feline purred in front of Kara. He arched his back and tail uwards, and rubbed against her leg. "Pick me up," the silvery cat purred to Kara. "I'm ready for my introduction."

[*5 successes on Shapeshift]
[*5 successes on Matter Chamelion]

This is weird, Kara thought, but she had no hesitation in her movements when she picked up the cat, er, the Changeling. She had touched strangers before, and with less clothing, and so it was easy to overcome her hesitation. She rubbed the strange material of the cat's body, a little unsettled by the elastic, fabric-like feel to its 'fur.'

"Hey, watch the paws," she murmured as the cat settled on her arms.

"Of course," the cat purred, carefully settling his paws on her arms. His claws teased with sharp promise as he rubbed his head against her hand.

"Are you scent-marking me?" Kara asked, cocking an eyebrow at her cargo.

"Heh, my apologies," Changeling replied, grinning with no sign of remorse. Of course, it could be argued that cats couldn't express remorse; their little faces were not built for it. "The animal's instinct."

"Uh huh," Kara chuckled, shaking her head. "Animal, right." She winked at the nova in her arms.

She approached the group she had just left, smiling and nodding at Percivald, Balm and TeleForce. "Well, that was easy to take care of," she said, petting the cat as if nothing were strange. "I need to head upstairs to mingle. Who would like to come?"

Lucas watched Caramel as she moved through the room talking to, and greeting various patrons. She'd disentangled herself from his arm a few minutes ago to deal with another Nova across the room. He observed the room, noting who was here and more importantly, who was not. So far he was impressed at the faces he recognized. If Kara plays her cards right, she'll make a lot of valuable contacts tonight. he mused silently.

His eye caught the lovely hostess as she gracefully reapeared and he raised an eye at the sight of the 'cat' in her arms but otherwise said nothing as he offered the lovely woman his arm again. "I'd love to see the rest of the place," He said with a smile.

Bellator sighs, "I guess. It must be lonely, tho, to not be able to connect with most people in your field. I mean, everyone who's been in the Army, like I was, tends to view everyone else as a brother. But that's kind of expected after all the training, fighting, and every other team building exercise that happens."

He smiles, "I think I'm in dire need of your services as an Image Consultant. After all, who wears camouflage to a night club." He laughs, and sips from his beer as he watches Weaver intently. "So, what kind of stuff do you do for fun?"

“Camouflage to a night club? All sorts of people do.”

Weaver smiled as her clothing rippled and swirled with color. The pinstripes shifted to a pink, white and grey camouflage pattern while her attire changed as well, becoming a white baby t-shirt with a camouflaged, cut-off tank top over that, leaving her luscious midriff exposed while her slacks changed to a more loose fitting cammo pants with several cargo pockets. The starps from her heels lifted from her feet and coiled around them, thickening and changing in color and texture, leaving a pair of white boots on her feet. The sleeves of her jacket pulled away from the arms and contorted and contracted into several wristbands and chains while a lump of the Eufiber slithered up the back of her neck to form a military utility cover in the same pink, white and grey cammo as the rest of her outfit which was only complimented by her hair color and eyes.

“See? What’s wrong with camouflage at a night club?” she asked with a grin and a wink.

“I do have some friends in the field and there is friendly competition. We all push each other to do the best and are happy to see the success of each other. Mostly they are new designers like myself, but there are a few of the old guard that are pretty cool.”

“But yeah, We can set up a meeting after this and see if we can find your style.” Weaver added with a soft smile as her skin slowly darkened faintly to medium tan.

[11 Success on Appearance + Style! (and she does have 1 M-App. ]

"I agree with you, all work and no play makes Robert a dull boy, and I'm charmed you could remember me. I remember you, you left me with a lot of questions about your philosophy" Robert looked at her "But you are right, your expression and way of thinking is your own business if you don't feel a need to share it"

"Now tell me, what could coax you into coming to this party? You seemed very much against any form of baseline entertainment, did someone convinced you?" Robert just watched Nyx for any reaction as the band played in the background.

Music has the almost magical quality to convey thought and emotion. No words are needed, just the pure intent of sound. The music pumping through The Bath House wrapped its spell around Lucas as he escorted Caramel Up the stairs to her VIP room. Fuck Gabriel is good. God damned why does he have to be so hot though? Lucas sighed inwardly as he watched the throng push closer to the stage. The sweat and noise merged with Gabriel’s vocals and the band’s passion to create an intoxicating mix of mood and pheromones that was driving the young Texan to distraction. For a moment he very nearly forgot where he was and who was on his arm.

The VIP area looked similar to the main floor but the small details that set it apart were obvious to his cultured eye; marble tabletops replaced the plastic ones that were found downstairs, a subtle care to the décor, and of course the best alcohol. The bartender isn’t bad either. he smiled and lifted his bottle to his lips. A slight frown creased his mouth as he realized it was empty. Steering Caramel towards a small group of Baselines he shot the bartender a quick look while he whipered to his hostess. "The fashionable Latina in the middle is Maria La Brava. Her father is big in the Import/Export buisness in and around Central and South America. The blond guy with the glasses is Bryce Rand, son of the multi-billoniare industrialist William Rand. You might want to make sure those two enjoy themselves. With a word they could make or break your club."

As he spoke a telepathic message inprinted itself on the bartender's mind "Corona with lime to the guy on Caramel's arm." In less than a minute the bottle floated into his waiting hand.

"Maria, how are you? I haven't seen you since San Juan," he said as they joined the small gathering. And I wouldn't mind another crack at that brother of yours he though. "Bryce, Maria. This is our gracious hostess Miss Caramel Bath."

Bellator sits stunned as Weaver changes her outfit right in front of his eyes. "How do you do that? I can't get mine to change texture or material. I can only do cotton."

He then stands up, and takes out a cell phone. After looking at the number, he looks at Weaver, "Excuse me, but I need to take this."

He starts to walk towards the back, where the rest rooms are. "Hello? How did you get this number? Hold on one second." He turns back to Weaver, holding his hand over the phone's "mouthpiece". "It looks like this is an emergency. I don't think I'm going to be able to continue our conversation. Sorry. Can I get your card to set up an appointment with you when you're available?"

Kara nodded at Bryce and Maria, while the hand that had been resting on Changeling stroked his back gently. "It's good to meet you," she said softly. "I'd shake, but I'm afraid that my arms are full." Soft laughter floated around the conversation, and Kara gave her most charming smile.

"You have such a nice place," Maria said as she reached forward and scratched the cat's ears. Changeling purred contentedly, and Maria said, "What a bizarre cat. Did some nova take up breeding?"

"Something like that," Kara answered, moving her fingers so that Maria could pet the nova in her arms.

"Very unique," Bryce agreed as his fingers brushed the cat, but his eyes weren't on Changeling. "I like what you've done... with this place."

Slimeball, Caramel thought, but she allowed her lips to curl with well-feigned interest. If he could make or break her...

Maybe she'd have to make or break him first.

The sound of electric guitars, drums, and heavy bass lines clashed discordantly in the background as Nyx winced, suddenly wishing she'd brought along a set of earplugs.

How do people listen to this?

"Oh, I'm not completely opposed to it," the dark young nova replied quickly, before her thoughts formed themselves into words that might create a contradiction. "It just doesn't interest me much anymore. I spend too much time studying to really think about it. And, yes," she added somewhat reluctantly as she nodded, conceding, "someone did in fact convince me it would be in my best interests to come."

And his best interests, as well, no doubt.

"My benefactor feels I should spend more time with my own kind, and learn what I can of the experiences of others. He hopes that I may find parallels between their... circumstances and mine, and it might help to ease the transition from one life to the next."

I drained the last of the second Budweiser and let it clink onto the marble tabletop. Backjack was leaned back against the wall, two legs of his chair off the floor.

"Bored now," he said, barely lifting his eyes.

"I concur," The Gnostic agreed, as he stirred the ice in the bottom of his glass with a plastic stirrer. "I really don't think it's likely this lot will create any problems for us."

"Yeah," I agreed. "Besides which, I really can't stand the stage act. Let's bail."


(Author's note: King Felix has left the club. Anyone who was in the VIP area and can make an ordinary awareness roll could see him suddenly disappear from the table-- where he was seated alone.)

"I see, but if you study so much, won't all study and no play make of Nyx a boring girl?" Robert smiled, trying to get Nyx to smile by returning the saying she had slinged at him.

"Your benefactor, whoever it is, sounds like it knows what it is talking about. Study is important, I have been doing it for my whole life. But fun is important too." Robert took a sip of whatever was left on his glass before putting it down.

"Transition from Baseline to Novahood? Or did your change had repercussions on other areas of your life?" The sound of the band calmed down as Robert continued his talk with Nyx.