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Apr 12, 2015 20:06:57 GMT -5
Post by Cecelia L. Sutton on Apr 12, 2015 20:06:57 GMT -5
  “Come on Cece,” Sophie whined, pulling her by the hand toward the throbbing music of the nightclub. “You promised, you’ve been MIA for months now. NYU has taken over your life.” Cece winced as she allowed herself to be pulled along, a dull ache already starting behind her left eye. Sophie still didn’t have a clue about how she was spending her newfound free time, but then, Cece had gone to great lengths to be sure of that. No one knew that she had dropped out of NYU, not even her parents who were still footing the bills. Each semester, there would be a loving phone call placed to her father about the upcoming payment. Each semester, he would write a check, Cece would pick it up and deposit into a savings account in her name. She would give the money back eventually, whens he got up the nerve to tell them that she had quit school, but she couldn’t do it, not yet. Dropping out would bring questions and Cece couldn’t handle questions at the moment; she had too much to figure out on her own. “Sophie, come on. I’ve got to study, it’s midterms,” she lied, debating on just making a run for it and flagging down the nearest cab. She could definitely outrun Sophie now, not only did she have a few inches on the smaller girl, but the monster speed would help her out too. “Cece, if you bail on me right now, so help me. I will forever disown you as a friend and show up at your apartment to make sure the whole world knows it.”Sophie glared at her with daggers in her eyes and Cece surrendered. “You win, don’t disown me,”/font] she plastered a smile on her face and allowed herself to be pulled toward her nightmares.
The club was dark and smoky, the smell of beer and sweat was strong enough to make Cece gag uncomfortably. Did werewolves go to nightclubs? She couldn’t see how, the smell alone was nauseating, but the noise was even worse. Club music wasn’t exactly known for its mellow beats and soothing tones, but the bass thrashed against her ears like a jackhammer. Cece’s head spun from sensory overload, the yelling voices trying to beat the music, the music trying to drown out the voices, and the poor saps trying to drown their own sorrows at the bar. She hadn’t been around this many people since she was attacked, since she first realized that she was what she was. It didn’t feel safe, being so far away from the comfort of her apartment with its heavily latched door and reinforced windows.
Sophie had gone off elsewhere, managing to find someone that she deemed more fun and leaving Cece to wade through the masses of swirling bodies that polluted the dance floor. A few months ago, Cece would have been right there with them, dancing until her feet couldn’t handle her heels. She would have found the most attractive guy and talked him up as Sophie egged her on with a flirty giggle. Now, she wanted to be anywhere but here.
Pushing her way through the crowd, Cece managed to find a dark, quiet table in the corner of the club up in the shadows of the second level. It was hardly what one would call peaceful, but it did give her a break from the pulsing roar that had settled into her brain. Is this was she was doomed to endure? Being able to smell cheap cologne mixed with sweat while listening to the heartbeats of those closest to her. Ordering a drink, Cece rested her forehead on the table, allowing the cool laminate tabletop to soothe her aching head.
@open
outfit - without gloves
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I'm not gonna count my losses... just let 'em come.
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Apr 12, 2015 20:41:40 GMT -5
Post by Macht Stärke on Apr 12, 2015 20:41:40 GMT -5
Macht was at work, and ever since he'd started, he'd fixed up ten times the cars of any veteran at the shop, on average. The rest of the crew began to respect him for his work ethic, but whenever they tried to get him to hang out, he'd always bail and head home. This was going on for weeks, where they would invite him out and he'd politely decline, only to head home and watch TV all night, or head out to bars alone. He didn't like it, but getting close to anyone was dangerous and he didn't want to risk anyone's safety. After all, he'd been hunted by the Scarlet Council three times already, and if he'd had people they could use to get close to him they'd likely do it even more. So, he kept his distance for good reason - only he couldn't keep it up forever. The guys were catching onto his reclusive tendencies, and though it chagrined him, they were going to end up forcing him out with them. "Listen, Macht, buddy, we're doing this," Phil, his boss, said plainly. He and three other mechanics surrounded Macht, believing they were preventing him from making an exit. "It's good to unwind once in a while. C'mon, our treat." The two behind Macht would put their hands on his shoulders and push him, while the two in front led him out. Were this a different scenario, he'd feel like a prisoner. "C'mon, guys, is this really necessary?" He laughed nervously, trying to find a way to wiggle out of it again. "You're going. That's final." The Dragon let out a sigh as the guys took him out to a nearby club. Stepping inside, the overwhelming stench of sweat, smoke, and alcohol nearly made the Dragon double over and puke then and there. He stifled a gag, putting a hand up to his mouth, and he and his pals began to maneuver their way through the crowd of people. Over time, they began to go off and find women they found attractive, at first leaving Macht with his boss, who'd attempted to play the role of the wingman. A good long while was spent with Phil trying to find a woman Macht was interested in, and he never succeeded. Macht would always shake his head upon seeing them, or end up leaving them after he found out what kind of people they were. It got to be a little much, and Macht found himself separating from his boss so that he ended up on his own. Macht was on the second floor, leaning over the railing and sipping on a whiskey. He remained up there alone for quite some time, mostly unmoving, until he saw someone who caught his eye for some reason. A woman, one who had a peculiar smell about her, stood out, and he watched her out of his peripherals as she moved to her table in a dark corner. She seemed distress about something, or maybe she was having some head pain. Whatever the case, his attention was caught, and he would approach her. "For the lady in the corner," Macht said to the server the girl had just ordered a drink from. He pulled some cash out of his pocket and handed it to the guy to pay for her drink. The club scene was new to him, so he wasn't sure if he handled that properly, but he figured it was fine. "Excuse me, Miss," he said, closing in on the table. He maintained a comfortable distance from her to avoid appearing threatening. "You doin' alright?"// Cecelia L. SuttonOutfit
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Apr 19, 2015 9:55:38 GMT -5
Post by Cecelia L. Sutton on Apr 19, 2015 9:55:38 GMT -5
Months ago, Cece would have happily dressed up, drank up, and danced it up in clubs just like this on all across New York City. She would have been glued to Sophie’s side like a shadow, working the room to gain the attention of anyone they deemed worthy enough to pay attention to. The pair of them would have met up with friends from across the city, many of them having scattered since their days in high school, but no one stayed away from the city for very long. Even the most independent had to come back for a parental loan and a social engagement every now and then. After all, the city was unforgiving and sinking into anonymity was always just one to many missed dinner parties away. Cece was on the brink of it herself, having skillfully avoided every invite that had been sent her way over the last several months. Sophie was her only tether to that part of her life anymore and Sophie did not seem to be allowing Cece to go down without a fight. The shadowed corner of the club provided some relief, the thumping bassline didn’t thump so loudly in the darkness and the smell of sweat and beer lessened the farther away from the dance floor she got. It was amazing how cheap cologne smelled now that she could practically pick out each individual ingredient. The luxurious aroma that had almost always managed to draw her attention now smell like something she could only compare to Windex, putrid and chemically. No matter how much cologne or perfume they wore, Cece could still smell them, the human scent she had come to identify; they all smelled like it...well, not everyone. A new scent wafted toward her dark corner as she rested her head on the table, her left arm wrapped around the side of her head to act as a pillow and a blockade against the assault on her senses. Cece’s back stiffened slightly, the last time she had interacted with a new scent she was bitten, forced to change, and sucked into the supernatural version of a gang. This smell wasn’t the werewolf scent, after her last interaction, she had committed it to memory - she didn’t want to be caught off guard again. The wolf may have had different ideas, but Cece was no fighter, knowing who was on the other end of the new smells she faced was going to keep her alive in more ways than one. Maybe if she didn’t react, the source would go about it’s business, maybe the overpowering smells that already filled the air would keep it distracted enough not to notice her. Her muscles tensed as the smell go stronger and the familiar heat pulsed in her stomach, but Cece didn’t move. She was in no danger, she was fine, safe. There was no safe place to phase her, she couldn’t afford to make a mistake. ‘You doin' alright?’Fuck. She cursed internally, the smell close enough for her to tell that whatever it was, was talking to her. For a moment, Cece debated not responding, maybe he would think that she was nothing more than a party girl that had too much to drink...it wouldn’t have been the first time. But, would he call an ambulance? She couldn’t take the risk. She pulled her head from the table and brushed her hair out of her face, “Yeah, I’m fine,” she offered with a smile. Her eyes rolled over him carefully, his smell wasn’t human, but there was no indication that he was anything but. Of course, Cece probably smelled the same way. Could he smell her? Was that why he came over? “It’s just a little hot in here,” Cece replied, making a show of fanning herself as she cringed slightly as the bass dropped loudly. Macht Stärkeoutfit - without gloves
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