The Summit - [OPEN]

A rumor traveled the circles of the supernatural. Mutants heard a safe, underground railroad was being started, inquire at the Summit. The beyond sought the strange power said to rest at the Summit of New York City. The gossip flitted amongst the rest: valuable information was to come to light when dawn broke over the Summit.


The Summit had become one of New York City’s top lounges. Part bar, part club and part restaurant, one visit and it was clear why it had risen so quickly. Located at the heart of downtown north of the Flatiron, this enclosed penthouse lounge and heated rooftop garden boasted breathtaking views, amazing music and guest DJs, as well as quality dining. The music trended to top 40 mixes and upbeat electronica over the dance floor, the décor back-lit in bright violets and blues. Overstuffed chairs, couches and chaises as well as kitschy padded stools made gathering, chatting and drinking easy on the higher level or outside while the bar was illuminated brilliantly. The food favored delicious appetizers and small plates, made fresh on demand.


The bouncer was either lax tonight or favored the shifting masses who filled the lounge, dance floor, bar and outdoor patio. The sky was milky and gray with thin clouds, a sign of warmer weather. Still, the heaters were on throwing near sixty degree ambiance around each seating area. While the stars were missing, they were rarely seen in the city at night. All the lights of the skyline twinkled at the merrymakers.

“Thanks,” Tempest said, taking his tumbler of whiskey from the outside bar. He walked between upholstered cushions and wire mesh tables, winter greens potted or plastic, and past inquisitive eyes. A phone flipped open in his hand with a simple flick of the wrist and he began to dial.

“Excuse you,” a girl’s catty tone surprised Devon as he walked by. She sneered and smirked at him. Her friends, a mixture of the want to be drunk and want to be seen in both sexes, merely started at her or scoffed at whoever had dared come through ‘their area.’

“Sorry, no autographs,” Devon said quickly, shaking his head but smiling widely. As he expected a few looked confused or curious, while the girl looked momentarily panicked. People hated when they didn’t recognize a celebrity. Devon had learned you didn’t need to have telepathy to be smart.

The phone rang and rang until he heard a familiar voice. It was Samael’s asking for the caller to leave a message. Well that made sense after all; this wasn’t a number he’d recognized after all. “The weather at the Summit on Fifth Avenue is fair to good,” Devon left his message, a quick chuckle partially included as he closed the phone to hang up. How many weeks had it been now?

The phone disappeared into the front pocket of his gray cotton pants. His collared shirt was a faint crème and faded gray stripe. The jacket was black along the arms and part of the double-breasted collar, the rest a black-gray tweed. His hair had been combed, slicked up and back, revealing a wave of black locks instead of tangled curls. School was apparently very good for you.

Devon leaned forward, sipping at his whiskey as he gazed out over the city.


((OOC:
Normal emotional state; no checks necessary at this time.))

Samael walked along through the brisk evening air. Things had been quiet lately since the rather massive events of DC. Things still weren’t great for mutants but things weren’t nearly as bad as Samael had thought they were going to be. It seemed like the fallout of the events there have either been delayed or swept under the run, he wasn’t quite sure yet.

His phone rang and he glanced down at it with a slight frown. The number wasn’t familiar to him and he very, very rarely received any calls from it – at least 90% of them were wrong numbers and the like. He simply didn’t really have anybody who used cell phones for communication and rarely gave out this particular number.

As he walked, he took note of the voicemail left for him and pulled his phone up to his hear. When he heard the voice on the other end he was surprised and it brought a small smile to his lips. Quickly fading from the minds of those around him, he shot up and into the sky, heading for home. As he hurtled through the air he shot off a text message to Devon – ’See you soon’.

Once there he quickly changed into something befitting a nicer New York Club. It was slightly casual in a low cut black shirt that was simple and perhaps almost see through, but the beautiful black jacket he put over it more than made up for it, along with the matching fitted slacks and high end shoes. (http://bit.ly/13Pzydu )

A moment later and he was once again hurtling out over the city, zipping between skyrises, mentally invisible to all who saw him. It wasn’t very long at all before he was at the club that Devon had mentioned and he landed unnoticed on the outside terrace. Walking through the crowd, he slowly faded into their collective consciousness as if he had been there all along. He came up alongside Devon and leaned against the rail facing the young man and glancing his clothes over. “Didn’t think you’d be one for this sort of club,” he said with a smirk.

Devon watched the city. Not only could he see the myriad lights of the skyscrapers and the hurrying bodies down below, but he saw air temperature fluctuations and wind currents. Now, however, he was merely taking in the whole of the city skyline. People were right; it was beautiful from here. Enamored as he was, he ignored the incoming text for a few moments.

More whiskey went down his throat before the Inquisitor arrived, looking the darker and grim of the couple. Devon’s blue eyes studied him sideways as he took another drink. This was a curious surprise. He knew he felt different, but gone was the white rabbit. Now the black-armored warrior had arrived.

In the wake of D.C., the city he’d evacuated before all hell had broken loose, and the chaos of South America, where he’d nearly died facing that monster, Tempest had made some decisions to grow. He was going to try else he would have to prepare for an eventual loss. It was clear that powers far greater than he roamed the world, taking what they wanted and he didn’t want their will impeding on his. Part of that was a finer control of his will as well as simply growing his abilities. Hopefully New York City and his old – new? – friend could help with that.

“Didn’t think you’d dress like you would be here chasing tail,” Devon said with an amused drawl. A crooked grin rose the corner of his mouth as he turned more fully to see the psion. “And a smirk too… What happened to you?”

Then he paused, looking suddenly serious. “I’m sorry about the fight… I- I was unprepared. I’m glad you’re okay though. But this?” he asked, gesturing with his free hand. “I gotta say I thought I’d be looking like a freak. You, uh, talk with the Emperor recently?” he implied through clever reference. He thought it clever anyway considering how wide his smile grew.

((OOC:
Normal emotional state; no checks necessary at this time.))

This club definitely appeared to be one of the ‘it’ places to be. People were everywhere, drinking, partying, having a good time. Fights were taken care of before they even got started and those involved removed quietly with most people not even knowing anything might have happened. People were dressed to the nines and eager to see and be seen.

He smirked wider at Devon’s opening comment and gave a small shrug, “I generally dress to at least fit in somewhat, even when I want to stand out. I don’t know what your excuse is, though.” He glanced over Devon’s choice of outfit with a raised eyebrow, then seemed to sober up a bit as Devon got a bit more serious.

“Its no big deal,” he said with another small shrug, “We kind of got things figured out a little at least, right? Even if we don’t exactly see eye to eye on a few things.” Samael, however, didn’t really get Devon’s clever reference and his face showed it as he raised an eyebrow, “With who…?” Sometimes it was difficult not being fully immersed in mainstream culture. He was always on the up and up about new technology, things happening in the world and the like, but when it came to the current day’s movies, tv shows, pop culture, etc… he just was generally somewhat lost.

“I’m going to school now,” Devon smirked. “It’s not exactly around here,” he chuckled a bit then sipped at his whiskey. “But you aren’t dressing to fit in. You’re going to stand out,” he nodded with that same smirk.

“But the Emperor? You really don’t get it, do you?” he laughed and shook his head, turning to face the patio and glancing around the hob-knobbing pretty people and wealthy alike. “Star Wars? I mean come on, I know you don’t watch movies but… The Empire? Darth Vader’s teacher? Emperor Palpatine? Lord of the Dark Side and corrupter of Anakin into Vader?”

He chuckled, still shaking his head in disbelief. “You went from white and noble to dark and…” he shrugged a shoulder, “Whatever. So I was wondering if maybe you’d had a chat with Daddy or something.” Another laugh left his lips as he thought he was making a simple joke. “It’s not bad, really, just well I guess if you’re looking for a lustful girl, you’ll find her. Some idiot celebrity here?”

“I’m hoping to meet whoever is running the mutant railroad they’ve apparently got going through here though. I heard about it last night when I was stalking some of the other bars, you know,” Devon inclined his chin and flicked his head over the edge.

Devon hadn’t seen anyone yet he’d think to ask. Who knew with all these people here? “Maybe you can sniff around for some information?” he tapped at a temple as if rubbing out a headache.

((OOC:
Normal emotional state; no checks necessary at this time.))

Samael leaned against the railing, simultaneously watching Devon and the crowd as he gazed around. As Devon spoke of going to school, Samael raised an eyebrow, focusing on the young weather worker. “School? Like college? Where?” he asked, “Or is it one of those online things?” Samael was actually curious about it – he had never gone to a real university but rather spent some time in the seminary, not quite the same thing really, in fact very, very different. He had thought about going back but the cost and time commitment had made it not really a possibility, not with all of the sinners and wicked roaming the streets of his city.

Devon began to explain what he meant by the Emperor and Samael shook his head. He didn’t really understand the reference, though he’d heard the names. You couldn’t really live in popular culture without hearing the names, but he’d never actually seen the movies. He wondered what the emperor was like if Devon was comparing his father to him…

“No,” he said, “I mean, not since the night he visited. Did I tell you about that? Few weeks back?” Samael couldn’t even remember, the whole emotional conversation was kind of a blur to him that he had tried to forget but found the task impossible.

Samael smiled as Devon took note of his change of clothing and he gave a small shrug, “I can’t wear the same jacket every night or the statement will lose its strength. And I generally don’t pursue those who suffer the sin of Lust unless they take it too far through force or coercion. It tends to harm no one but themselves, so I don’t see it as my place to interfere.” But what Devon said of the mutant railroad caught him offguard.

“Mutant railroad?” he asked curiously, his voice lower, “What do you mean? And why here?” Samael rarely interacted with other supernaturals and he hadn’t really heard anything about this. He did smile when Devon spoke of stalking other bars, “Were there any unforeseen tornados last night? I didn’t hear about it on the weather.”

He also found it curious that Devon wanted him to sniff around after Devon had admonished him so much for possibly abusing his powers. But perhaps this was because sniffing wasn’t directly forcing it on anyone else? So it wasn’t exactly taking away their free will, but Devon had been rather… adamant about the fact that he wanted Samael to stay out of his head. Or perhaps this meant that after several weeks of reflection, Devon had come to trust Samael? The thought made him smile just slightly.

“I’ll see what I can dig up while we talk,” he said, “So what have you been doing the last several weeks?” And as they spoke he reached out with his mind. He could already tell where everybody in the room was, so he picked just a couple at a time and glanced over their surface thoughts, largely finding them boring and inane.

“School. Yeah, like college,” Devon nodded with a grin, “Europe, actually. Things started a little awkwardly, but it all worked out ultimately. I already got my GED. I have to admit not having a diploma felt sort of…” He shrugged, but frowned slightly at the thought of what had happened to prevent his graduation.

The mutant’s blue eyes opened wide suddenly, “You met him? Wait. What?” He blinked, “Like… truly? And he’s? Did you figure out like-?” Devon wasn’t even sure what to say. Forgotten was everything else.

“Yeah yeah, railroad, whatever. Forget me. What do you mean you met your father? What happened? Are you alright? Holy shit,” Devon could only shake his head. He then canted it slightly in thought, “Was he… Did he…? Are you okay?”

Devon wasn’t sure what to expect. Did it turn out Samael’s father was merely a telepathic mutant with deranged illusionist mastery? Maybe his domination skills were powerful enough to trick Samael’s mother? The problem was Devon didn’t expect any of that. After their conversation Devon had thought things over.

What wasn’t possible nowadays?

((OOC:
Normal emotional state; no checks necessary at this time.))

Samael blinked at the talk of college in Europe. That seemed like quite a ways off, and he said as much. “In… Europe? But how do you get back and forth? I mean yeah we have our ways, but that’s a long, long flight at our speeds isn’t it?” he asked, “Or are you richer than you let on with your worn out hoodies and old sneakers?” He chuckled a bit and shook his head.

Then he mentioned to Devon that he had met his father, and Devon seemed shocked. What did the guy expect? Had he really not believed Samael when he told him who his father one? Samael shook his head slightly and he knew that he was right – Devon had assumed Samael was wrong, or exaggerating, or who knows what else, but the possibility that Samael was telling the truth had never occurred to Devon until now, or so it seemed to Samael.

“I’m fine, as you can see,” he said with a slight shrug, “There isn’t a lot to tell, except that the things I told you are true, every bit of them.” He didn’t think it was prudent to mention the whole war thing, or the demonic powers, or… well… Yeah, any of that stuff. Devon already seemed freaked enough as it was.

“So you believe me now?” he asked curiously, “That I wasn’t blowing things out of proportion?”

Devon’s brow knitted together in frustration at Samael’s curious tone. He smirked and shot back a dubious look, “I believed you believed it. I was thinking about it… How anything seems possible now. But there were a lot of scenarios. It had nothing to do with you blowing it out of proportion. It was about learning the truth. People rush to judgment all the time.”

He nodded slowly, “But I’m glad you’re okay. I guess even he wouldn’t hurt his own son, right?” A soft inhale let Devon’s senses flutter out across the city. There was a strange spike in temperature on the east side of town, likely a fire. He hoped everyone there would be safe.

“There’s no telling what’s going on anymore. And really, anyone that met you and in their second conversation immediately believed what you said – even if you knew it was true – probably isn’t very wise, right?” Devon asked with a gleam in his blue eyes. “Why did he come to see you?”

A chuckle left his throat, “Though he probably travels even easier than I do. I skipped on a boat out to sea and took it to Europe. I flew American back. It’s break and whatever. This isn’t exactly a normal college, though.” The boy did glance down at his clothing, smiling. Honestly, he didn’t mind the nice digs.

“But your father?” his tone turned serious once more.

((OOC:
Normal emotional state; no checks necessary at this time.))

Samael smiled slightly at Devon’s first response. He believed that Samael believed it? The guy sounded like a shrink who had been humoring him while really thinking he was crazy. Samael wasn’t offended, though. He’d heard it before from quite a few people – not that they knew about his father really, just when his past came up, members of the church often seemed… curious and nosey about such things and then refused to believe what they were told when their questions were finally answered.

He gave a half smile as Devon stated the thought about Samael’s father not hurting his own son, “I wouldn’t put it past him, really. I think he just finds me useful, or curious. I don’t know if that will last forever.”

“As for why he came to see me,” Samael continued, kind of trailing off before giving a shrug, “It doesn’t really matter, and I’d prefer not to talk about it… what I’m curious though is this railroad you mentioned. What exactly is it supposed to be for? Or do? I mean, I would assume to go elsewhere but New York seems fine…”

The attempted topic change was rather obvious, but it was the best Samael had at the moment. Besides, what would Devon think if he really knew?

The first thoughts that whispered back to Samael were that of wonder. They wondered who the two guys were over near the edge of the patio, peering out over the city or back over the assembled. Others wondered if the person they were with actually liked them for them. Someone was thinking about what drink to get…

Samael was awkward though, at least from Devon’s perspective. He knew he had severe mood swings sometimes, but Sam made things very awkward. You’d think a telepath would be better at such moments but he was all about forcing social change instead of guiding it. Devon suddenly felt he had an insight into how Samael saw the world and how he interacted with it. It was a little depressing.

What’s more, suddenly his family seemed far more loving. Maybe they’d reacted badly, but at least his father wasn’t Satan. At least his father wasn’t rising up from hell to torment him. Maybe it was time to see how his parents were doing.

“I was in a not so great part of the Bronx,” Devon admitted. “I stopped a mugger and apparently there was another mutant kid watching who was going to help but I swept in first,” he shrugged. “Anyway, he told me about the railroad rumors. He was thinking of coming. His name was Marcus and he could blend into his surroundings like natural camo. No wonder I hadn’t noticed him immediately.”

“And this city ain’t fine… It’s like the primary target for Hines. Politicians are insane, I swear,” Devon sighed. “There’s something going on so I’m not surprised people are trying to get out quick and discretely. I don’t know what a blood test reveals about you, but it can betray a lot about me.”

((OOC:
Presuming this thread is just before: https://marvelunlimited.forumotion.com/t1724-operation-sentinel-plot-topic

Normal emotional state; no checks necessary at this time.))

Samael knew the talk was getting awkward, this wasn’t exactly the best place to be having it. Not that any place was a good place to be talking about your crazy ass devil demon-thing father figure, really. Was there ever a good time to discuss that? Samael could almost see the pity in Devon’s eyes and he hated it, though Samael did not let that particular emotion show on his face.

He listened as Devoin spoke of how he had heard about this underground railroad thing, and Samael was still skeptical. Why would it be here at a club like this? Samael would think it would do better in a place more people could get to. How many people could even make it past the door here? Then again, he hadn’t quite poked into the heads of the doormen, maybe they were in on it… maybe the staff?

The thoughts that slipped into his head certainly weren’t being particularly helpful, so he decided next to check on those very people he had just considered – the staff, bartenders, doormen, security… were any of them in on it? It would certainly make sense, but Samael wasn’t really sure. For a moment he seemed to zone out as he concentrated on them but then he looked back towards Devon half apologetically. “Sorry,” he said, “Doing a little searching, nothing so far. And to be honest… I have no idea what a blood test would show, not after… everything that’s happened and all.” Does half-demon register in a blood test? Samael didn’t plan on finding out any time soon, though maybe he should hunt down a doctor and find out.

“You got me,” Devon leaned back on the railing. He sipped his drink casually, savoring the smooth smoky caramel of the whiskey. Maybe he was a little young to recognize such things, but before he’d left for school it’d been one of the few things he could enjoy while forgetting he was alone, without a home. “Best not to let a test get done, I think.”

The two outdoor bartenders nearby were busy mixing drinks: a Jack Frost for one and a Farmer’s Daughter for another. Coconut vodka and pineapple juice mixed with Blue Curacao while the other muddled basil and strawberries. Both were happy to be busy, but each felt annoyed at the perceived cheaper guests tonight. Apparently tips weren’t as plentiful as normal.

A well-dressed bouncer in a tailored charcoal sport coat was on edge. He knew there’d be quite a few irregulars tonight. He was watching for any troublesome behavior to end it as quickly as possible. Management had said they’ve have special guests tonight and there wasn’t to be any trouble. The same was true for other security guards Samael’s mind flicked over, like reading a rolodex in rapid succession.

One of the doormen knew to let anyone by who was on his list, even if they weren’t regulars, weren’t known names, or didn’t have the right amount of wealth worn in their clothing. Problem was the list kept updating on his iPhone. He didn’t like having to check every time someone arrived, but at least he was getting paid well.

Meanwhile a couple of young ladies had taken up a roost not too far from the young men who seemed to be taking in the view. Standing in relative silence, Devon and Samel cut an attractive presence amidst an impressively already attractive crowd. What more, they stood apart. Both girls drank from their freshly made drinks and smiled briefly in their direction as their conversation of the busy bar continued.

Devon closed his eyes as he inhaled, wrinkling his nose slightly at the amount of perfume on the air. An errant breeze blew over the edge of the building. Looking again, an image of two girls clutching at their fluttering hair was reflected in Devon’s blue eyes. He grinned as they shifted away, closer to a heat lamp.

((OOC:
Normal emotional state; no checks necessary at this time.))

Samael watched as Devon took a sip of his drink. He supposed he should have gotten himself something, if only to blend in, and he figured he would remedy that momentarily. He also nodded in agreement about the blood tests, “Agreed. Maybe I’ll look into it once I find a doctor I can trust.” Though Samael supposed it wouldn’t be difficult to find one to control just long enough to find what he needed. But would that be ethical?

Meanwhile, he continued listening in, gathering what information he could. He was thankful his senses extended to other methods besides sight and he could basically ‘see’ everybody in the room without having to have wandering eyes or turning and gawking. As he listened, it became obvious that the management of this place were the ones involved and none of the regular staff seemed to be in on it at all.

Feeling the girls arrive before he even saw them, Samael didn’t have to poke into their heads to know what they wanted. Luckily Devon seemed to be ahead of things a small breeze seemed to find its way directed right at the girls, Samael barely stifled a chuckle as his telekinetic senses picked up on their hair blowing wildly and their failed attempts at keeping it down. He gave Devon a small nod and a smirk, “You could always spend some time chatting with them while I do more digging, if you’re so inclined.” He raised an eyebrow, curious for Devon’s answer. He supposed these were the types of girls that wouldn’t really look at Devon in his normal clothing, but here he fit right in with the model-esque and decently dressed crowd, it might be Devon’s chance to get with some high end girls. The Sin of lust was one of the worst, but Samael’s attitude towards it was to largely ignore it in others unless it had negative effects on those around them. They would settle with God in their own time.

Meanwhile he let his senses reach out again, poking into those who were employed around him. This time he was looking for information on who ran the place, digging in and finding out the owners, if they knew them, or even just their bosses, and which bosses were on sight this evening as well as where they may be found.

“Alright…” Devon drew the word carefully over his tongue as he quirked a brow back at Samael. He shrugged a shoulder, looking now to the two girls, and sipped his drink as he slunk over to the heat-lamp assisted table they’d taken refuge at.

“Man, it’s getting breezy over there,” he started with a grin.

Both girls laughed. “I know, came right over the edge,” one began. She was perhaps mid-twenties and the older of the two. Her hair was a brown bordering on auburn with rich hazel eyes that really looked at you when you made eye contact. Her posture was good and the quick response made Devon think her in the business world.

The other chuckled quietly, “And right down your skirt.” This one was playful with dirty blonde hair, blue eyes and a slinky black dress that hugged at curves more endowed than the elder girl. She seemed immediately playful and if her word choice meant anything, also more friendly.

“Really? Did that breeze even buy you a drink, first?” Devon asked the first but his gaze turned upon the second.

“Not at all,” the autumnal girl laughed. “I’m Rachel and this is Erin.”

“Devon,” the blue eyed mutant grinned. “At least we have the heat lamps though.”

Erin nodded, “Normally I wouldn’t be out like this in the winter but they make it so easy here. Besides, inside is getting busy very fast.” Rachel nodded as well.

As if on cue, all three turned to peer through windows into the busying lounge. The dance floor had few feet upon it but each chair and sofa was filled. The bars both inside and outside were rapidly congesting. Already half the tables outside were occupied, almost all of them near heat lamps.

“Yeah, far busier than I expected,” Devon added.

“Yeah? We’ve never been before,” Erin took the bait, shrugging innocently.

“I would assume if you were regular guests the staff would never forget you,” Devon played, smiling broadly. He lifted his whiskey to his lips, hoping they’d add more.

“We heard they were doing half cover and there was a special guest DJ. Whoever does their social networking marketing is very good,” Rachel explained. “We hopefully will have a couple friends join us later, but it’s good to meet new people.”

Social networking marketing? Devon was impressed, not that he was on Twitter or Facebook. He smiled, “It is good to meet new people. What do you do Rachel?”

“Event planning mostly for product launches or sales kick offs. It’s good work if a little hectic right around the date of an event, but I’ve met many hotel managers, restaurant owners, et cetera,” she explained. “It’s a really useful job considering everyone wants to make sure you’re happy so events come their way again.”

Devon nodded, “You should try to talk to the staff here if you like it then.”

Rachel laughed, “I was saying the same thing to Erin. So far, so good, unless you count the breeze over there.”

“And you?” this time to Erin.

“I just graduated,” she answered, “But I’m working at an advertising firm. Sort of marketing sometimes. I actually met Rachel that way. She was picking up flyers for Durnham Hark.” Devon hadn’t a clue who or what that was, but she smiled and nodded all the same.

Meanwhile, Samael had a growing number of minds around him with loud, often confusing thoughts. He had picked out a supervisor here or the bartender’s name there. Considering the size of the Summit and its various aspects – bar, club, restaurant – there were many people involved. Kevin was the lead of security. Sharon was the most experienced bar tender and trained the newbies. Galin and Danny were the lead chefs. Who the main supervisor was seemed impossible to tell as many identified going to different people for different reasons.

There were a few owners but one was the general manager: Elise Terring. No one had seen her yet tonight, but it was Friday night and apparently she always came in on the weekend nights. Kevin in fact was eager to talk to Elise about the number of people as he wasn’t sure they had enough security.

“Oh I’m going to school for psychiatry,” Devon’s voice carried from nearby. “Though I really want to focus more on substance-free treatments, problem solving… Y’know, real therapy.”

Rachel laughed, “You’d be the first doctor I’ve ever heard of not to reach first for the meds.”

“Only takes one to start something,” the weather warlock said proudly.

Erin beamed at Devon while Rachel nodded approvingly. “Well said. Hey,” she paused and looked over to Samael, “You’re friend okay?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, long week…” Devon said gently then looked over. “Sam, the girls are wondering why you’re over there when we’re over here. Watch out for that breeze.” He grinned and winked.

((OOC:
Normal emotional state; no checks necessary at this time.))

Samael watched as Devon moved over to talk to the two girls, and he had to admit the guy was pretty smooth about it. That worked out well for Samael because he had other things to do, and he wasn’t interested in any liaisons anyways. Devon moved over to the pair and immediately started making small talk and the two girls seemed to eat up the attention from the handsome young man, which wasn’t entirely unexpected.

Samael only half listened to them as he still scanned the room, looking for signs and hints as to what was going on. There had to be someone here who knew something…. He just had to hunt them down and find them. Well, what was a telepath good for if not that?

Eventually he happened upon a name: Elise Terring. She seemed to be the general manager of the place and if anyone knew about the strange guestlist it would be her. He would have to keep an eye out for when she got in and then make sure he got to talk to her. That part shouldn’t be too hard at all, he could just keep an eye on the staff and they would know…

But from the side he heard voices directed in his direction and Samael glanced over, meeting Devon’s gaze with a slight smile before glancing to the two girls, “It is a little breezy out tonight, hmm?” Samael gave a small chuckle and moved over to join the trio, giving the girls nods, “Hi, I’m Sam. Rachael and Erin was it? Nice to meet you.”

“Yep,” Erin said in return to Samael as Rachel nodded. “Trying to relax?” she asked.

Rachel chuckled, “I think he’s scoping the patio. At least you don’t try to hide it like most of the pretenders here.” She glanced around while making exaggerated head movements, all the while batting her eyelashes. “Oh notice me, notice me.”

Erin was laughing but Devon had to as well, “Well thankfully you aren’t jaded.”

Rachel rolled her eyes, “I’m simply bothered people can’t go out to have a good time. Who do you notice more anyway? The girl simpering in the background or the one dancing and laughing with friends?”

Erin shrugged, “Probably depends on the guy.” She glanced to Sam, chin lowered and grinned.

“Life is supposed to be lived,” Devon waxed poetic. He laughed at himself, blue eyes bright while looking to each of the three at the table. He was starting to wonder where this conversation was really headed; he didn’t quite know.

“Right,” Rachel nodded. “But I’m wondering if Sam’s going to affirm I was right or not.”

“And we were talking about what we do. You a student too?” Erin asked, though her tone clearly implied she didn’t believe he was.

((OOC:
Normal emotional state; no checks necessary at this time.))

[OOC: Invited in...]

Humans. Her mother's race. It would always seem that there was something extra about them that Kyrie was always yet to figure out. Some days, they seemed to get on her nerves, and she would try to avoid them. Other times, they piqued her interest and she wanted to know why it was that they did the things they did. Like congregate in one place. Kyrie tried not to look lost as she stood in the crowded lounge of the Summit. She looked for all the world like a disinterested antisocial, just out to get a drink and observe the stupidity that seemed to hang around youths. Well, maybe she was. The smell of that drink was in the air. The one that made people mad. They'd start laughing first, then doing stupid things, before throwing up all over the floor and then sleeping off like corpses. Yes, there was a lot she was likely never going to understand, psychic as she was.

She made her way to the bar, having to gently push her way through loads of people who danced like they were partaking in some ritual. It kind of reminded her of some of the war dances of home. Some people, especially the males, turned to stare at her for a while, although they were ignored by her for the most part. Well, they would stare; she knew that much about humans, especially the males. She wore a strapless, off-the-shoulder, jet-black short dress with high heeled shoes of a matching color. Her reddish hair tumbled down onto her shoulders and back, and she wore a simple gold necklace in the way of accessories. She didn't really believe in dressing like a Christmas tree, like she'd seen some females do. Maybe it was some sort of elaborate courtship process...

She got herself a glass of... what did they call it again, wine? It did have alcohol, but it wasn't as strong as what most of the other folk here were drinking. Maybe she'd just walk over to the railing over there, and watch the humans and their activities. That was becoming one of her favorite pastimes. As she walked by a table where about four people sat, two males and two females, a young woman, already getting tipsy from the beverage she was drinking, came her way. Tripping over the feet of someone else, she actually let go of her glass, and it, contents involved, sailed through the air towards Kyrie. With a swift hand gesture, she smacked the glass harmlessly aside with her mind, ensuring that the contents did not splatter on her, or anyone else. Oops, she just remembered that most humans were very limited and were not used to these... powers, as they called them. Glancing around to make sure that she hadn't become a subject of attention, she gave a brief smile to those closest to her, the four at the table, then proceeded to move on, like nothing had happened.

Samael shrugged a little as it was suggested that he was trying to relax, and then that he was scoping out the patio. Rachel was right about one thing, so many pretenders here. Their bodies and faces and mouths said things that were so different from their minds, it was almost enough to make a telepath laugh inside.

He smiled back slightly at Erin’s flirtations but his attention didn’t linger and instead glancing towards Devon with a slight grin for the young man’s comment about living life. He glanced back to the girls as Rachael asked about answering her question, “What? Oh. I don’t know, really,” he said, “I guess it just depends on more than being in the background or foreground, and what I’m looking for.” Both types held sinners and the wicked.

Erin had asked about him being a student and he shook his head, “Me? A student?” He chuckled, “No. Not for a few years.” He was about to go on when a woman walking near them seemed to trip, and Samael would have missed it if he didn’t actually feel the glass move in a different direction. He glanced at it and the woman, then looked towards Devon with a meaningful gaze, very obviously asking if he’d seen the same thing.

Devon had to appreciate the way Samael spoke circles around the questions asked. Even he wasn’t sure exactly what to conclude, but he supposed that was the point. He didn’t know what Samael was looking for, other than the sinners. That whole bit was getting old. Weren’t they everywhere by definition?

He was vaguely aware of the people coming by, the smoke they exhaled, and the warmth of their breath… Then there was a sudden movement and a glass that went the wrong way. The girl nearest them looked in their direction and smiled. His first reaction was to flinch as his eyes closed and a few gusts passed over the patio. They moved in varied directions, but generally how the glass had flown while fluttering hair, napkins and dresses. A chair tipped over.

Coughing into his hand, Devon shivered as he let the created currents travel on as they would. They were brief as Devon’s blue eyes opened and he peered around. “Man, those breezes are cold,” he muttered while picking up his drink for a long sip.

It was a ruse to look around, catching the departure of the red headed woman. Erin had huddled her arms around her body and closer to the heat lamp at her side. Rachel, however, had a stern and curious glare. She may have moved toward the lamp, but it was clear she was thinking something counter to what Devon hoped for. Samael, on the other hand, was shooting him a look directly.

“The lamp’s warm, thankfully,” Erin smiled, glancing at Sam and then shyly around the patio. Napkins, chairs, a scarf and a few other items were quickly put back into place.

“Miss,” Rachel called, ignoring Erin, “are you cold?” She took a step away from the table and tried to catch Kyrie’s eye. “There’s room around this lamp. It can get very cold near the edge over there.”

Devon simply nodded as he lowered his glass. “She’s right, though I’m starting to feel like going inside is the better idea – crowd or no crowd,” he chuckled briefly.

“Yeah, we should dance,” Erin beamed, looking to her sidekick and nodding eagerly.

Rachel glanced back and laughed, “Yeah maybe in a minute.” She sipped at her drink and looked after the rosen-haired girl.

((OOC:
Glad to have ya! And thread is open! Others can join!

Normal emotional state; no checks necessary at this time.))

Kyrie turned and looked at the brown haired woman who addressed her. It was nice that someone would be hospitable in such a place as this, where recklessness was more likely the order of the day than civility. It was a bit cold, yes, but it wasn't anything Kyrie couldn't handle. If she remembered correctly, Fortuna Prime was colder than this. She looked at the others seated at the table, then nodded her head.

"Thank you for the offer. I suppose I may well take it, seeing that it would be better to be out of everyone else's way..."

She glanced at another tipsy group with a bit of misgiving, then took a seat at the table with the other four. A few seconds passed with her looking at them, then she said: "I'm Kyrie. Pleased to meet you guys."

'Guys'? She was beginning to talk like the humans.

Samael was unsure of what had just happened, but he knew it wasn’t entirely natural. Only someone like himself – or really with a myriad of other powers – could have done something like this. The only thing that allowed him to keep his surprised reigned in and off his face was the fact that he had already been expecting mutants and the like here tonight, thanks to what Devon had told him.

Samael was somewhat surprised by how eagerly Rachel called to the girl who had almost gotten covered in wine. In his experience the girls would be jealously guarding their targets – Samael and Devon – rather than inviting other girls to come over and chat. To Samael, it said something about them and perhaps they weren’t so bad after all.

There was talk of going inside, or dancing, the latter of which Samael was not particularly willing to do though the others may enjoy it. The new arrival took up Rachel's offer to join them and he gave Kyrie a nod as she approached. “Kyrie? Such an interesting name,” Samael said, “I’m Sam.” He gave the shortened version that Devon seemed so fond of using, it definitely would help blend in here.

“No problem,” Rachel said casually, moving back to her previous position closer to the heat lamp and table. Her eyes remained on the newcomer as conversation continued.

Devon didn’t notice much; in fact, he was starting to feel nervous. There were a lot of people here, the air warmed not only by the lamps but also the numerous bodies. No, not only bodies. He didn’t want to say it like that. All the people were warm and constantly shifting. Every time the doors opened to the rest of the lounge, club, whatever… He could feel just how warm it was inside. The music wasn’t bad either.

“I’m Rachel,” she smiled in Kyrie’s direction. She glanced over to Erin who was paying more attention to the activity within the warm walls of the Summit. Her smile widened into a grin and she sighed quietly.

“Devon, nice to meet you Kyrie. This is Erin,” he gestured to the blond girl.

“Oh, sorry,” Erin turned and smiled, looking around in embarrassment.

“Kyrie really is an interesting name,” Devon nodded. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard it before. Devon means poet apparently. My dad’s full Irish, so…” he shrugged casually.

Erin’s eyes widened and brightened simultaneously. She jittered, lifting up on her tip toes and grinning wildly. “Oh my God! That’s great. My name means Ireland. Pretty great huh?” she chuckled.

Rachel laughed, “Wow. Yeah…” She shook her head and looked pointedly to, “Kyrie, what do you do…” she paused, “For a living?” Her eyebrows arched as a wide, not so friendly smile spread from ear to ear.

“I’m studying psychology,” Devon remarked, oblivious to the direct nature of Rachel’s question.

((OOC:

Normal emotional state; no checks necessary at this time.))

Okay, the guys were Sam and Devon, and the girls were Erin and Rachel. Her name seemed interesting to most of them; the guys at least. Devon gave a meaning to his name, and Kyrie half hoped that she wouldn't be asked what her name meant. The best possible option would be to feign ignorance, because she wasn't sure what the humans' reactions would be to her name, which was of alien origins. Fortunately, the conversation did not steer in that direction. It did, however, turn in a direction Kyrie was not expecting: occupation. Now, that was a funny subject. Kyrie shrugged.

"I'm somewhat self employed... or what's the term again? Freelance? Yes, freelance. I, uh, help people find stuff."

She wasn't too willing to say that she was a private investigator/ vigilante. Most of the time, she had noticed that humans tended to be more secretive around law enforcers and detectives. She felt that if she just said she was a detective of sorts, the discussion would become a lot more conservative. With any luck, they might not be too interested in finding out what kind of stuff she 'found'.

In an attempt to turn the discussion away from herself, she focused on Devon. "So, Devon, you're studying psychology, huh? Sounds deep... I wonder what's it like to get into another person's mind."

In actuality, she knew the answer to some extent. Every Fortunian would know what it was like; after all, they tended to be powerful telepaths.

“Freelance what, exactly? Finding what? Jobs? Are you a head hunter?” Rachel insisted in her questioning.

It was Erin’s turn to raise an eyebrow. She looked at Rachel quizzically, clearly wondering why her friend was fixated on this. By now it was clear to everyone, even Devon.

“Sounds like it’s a bit more private than your event planning. Customer privacy and non-disclosure I guess?” Devon asked, glancing to Kyrie. “Even a psychologist wouldn’t be allowed to talk about his customers, his patients. But I misspoke, sorry. I’m studying psychology, sure, but going for psychiatry. Ultimately I want the full medical understanding though I hope to avoid drugs.”

When he was nervous, he spoke quickly and suddenly Devon was feeling very nervous. The strange movement of the glass, whatever it was, had caught him by surprise. He wasn’t sure if it was Samael or not, but he was starting to believe it was entirely not him. Rachel also had noticed the oddity.

“Answering your question,” he grinned at Kyrie after taking another sip of his nearly gone drink, “I can’t say I really am trying to get into their mind. I’ve had my head shrunk before, and I’d rather approach it differently. I want to help give people the tools, the peace of mind, and the confidence to take action for themselves. Let’s just say not too long ago a few things happened that made me want to take charge of my life.”

Meanwhile, the minds Samael was peeking in on were growing fatigued from the amount of people and the typical high energy, busyness of a Friday night. Much as Devon had inferred, people wanted to have a good time and forget about their busy week, their troubles and even the dangers of recent events…

“D.C.?” Rachel asked. “I can’t believe what happened sometimes… Stable for now but there’s all sorts going on now.”

“Yeah,” Devon said honestly, “That’s part of it. Things can change very quickly.” He looked to Samael and to Kyrie, “I don’t want to be a problem. I want to help, be part of that solution.” His crystalline blue eyes returned to Erin and Rachel, “Y’know?”

Erin beamed with joy at Devon’s attention, “Oh I think that’s great.”

“Yeah, sure,” Rachel smirked. “I think it’s good you want to avoid drugs anyway. You have a plan for all this?”

“I’m getting one. I’ve still got a fair amount of schooling left, but I’m hitting the books hard,” he nodded. “When I do get to the point that I believe I know what’s going on with someone though from whatever external perspective I have, it’s usually a personal and deep moment. It makes me want to help. That’s why I’m working hard: for me and for others.”

Rachel smiled to Devon and back to Kyrie, “Well that’s good, Devon.” She sighed, eyeing the red head for a moment.

“Now can we go in and dance?” Erin asked, pleadingly.

“Okay, yeah, let’s go. But I’m getting another drink,” Rachel relented.

Erin grinned happily and looked to the other three, “You guys coming?”

Devon shrugged, looking to Sam and even briefly to Kyrie. “I guess. I’m not much of a dancer but I don’t mind checking out the craziness inside,” he laughed.

There, one of the wait staff supervisors checked a text message: Elise was on her way to her office. She arrived a short while ago and wanted an update on numbers. Another, Kevin the head of security, was reading the same text. He was glad; he hoped to get some more help at the doors and on the floor. Both internal bars were busy, the dance floor was nearly packed and the patio was even seeing a lot of traffic despite the cool air.

“Great!” Erin cheered.

“Erin, you are way too cheerful for this city,” Rachel commented snidely.

Erin laughed and looked to each of them, “Come on!” She grabbed Devon’s arm and began to walk.

“I’ll meet you guys inside,” Rachel said with a short nod. She departed for the bar, but not without a pausing glance at Kyrie again. Her concern apparently forgotten, the event planner went to the bar closest to the doors into the lounge and began to wade her way through the people hovering there so she could grab another drink.

Devon started walking with his kidn- escort, glancing back to the other two with frightened and pleading eyes.

((OOC:
Anxious but no rolls necessary at this time.))