Okay, Tabby's roommate was still at dinner for at least another fifteen minutes. It was taco and nacho night, so she'd need to wash her hands before she returned to the room, and by then Tabby would be gone. But she won't know that. Using blankets and a couple throw pillows pilfered from the living area downstairs, Tabby had stuffed a pair of pajama bottoms and one of her hoodies into a body-like form and placed it strategically under the covers of her bed facing towards the wall. Pieces of a red wig peeked out of the hood, so it would look like she was there. Unless her roomie walked around to the window or actually looked at where Tabby's face was supposed to be. Then she'd find the following note placed in the face hole:

To whom it may concern:

Yeah. I sneaked out. I'm disappointed in myself too. I'm why we can't have nice things. I'll be home around midnight-ish maybe so I don't turn into a pumpkin. You can start punishing me by confiscating my laptop. IF YOU CAN FIND IT.

(But seriously, Mom and Papa, I'm ok, or I should be. Call me and I'll let you know where I am so you can come pick me up and ground me.)

Tabby

Tabby glanced at the time on her iPhone's screen. One more minute until that useful little piece of code she worked into the mansion's camera systems would loop the footage of blank halls along her predetermined route for three minutes, enough time for her to sneak to the gates and the taxi that would be waiting down the road. Ever since she had turned eighteen, the daughter of Kitty and Piotr had become... a little reckless. She already had gotten a tattoo that she had been reprimanded for, and now she was sneaking out to go clubbing on a Saturday night. Why? ...well, it just seemed like an exciting thing to do, regardless of whether or not she was caught.

The plan went off without a hitch and Tabby found herself plunking into the back of the cab successfully five minutes later, slightly breathless from the jog she had to lapse into to make it in time. "The Vertigo, please, West 16th Street, New York."

"...You know that's not gonna be a cheap ride, right girlie?" The cab driver asked.

"Yeah, I know how to use Google maps, man." Tabby assured.

The ride took the better part of an hour, during which Tabby fished into her messenger bag and outfitted herself for the night's activities. She had already been wearing jeans and a nice orange tank-top with red blossoms cutting across the front from her left shoulder to her hip, but on the ride she put on a little bit of eye shadow, managed to stab herself only once with her mascara wand, and applied some Chapstick, forgoing lipstick. She decided to keep wearing her steel-toe boots instead of opting for the heels in her messenger bag -- then she could kick any handsy dance partners and be sure it would hurt. Her red hair was pulled out of her face with a ponytail, and voila! Tabby was ready to dance the night away... and maybe see if she could pass for twenty-one at the bar.

The outside of the Vertigo was illuminated in blinding neon lights as Tabby forked over two months of allowance to the cab driver and exited the cab. The line moved pretty quickly, and after a hand-stamp that condemned her as a non-drinker, Tabby slipped inside the club. The dance floor was a writhing pit of dancers, the music was so loud Tabby could feel it in her chest, and lights were flashing.

Yes, good.

The messenger bag was checked and Tabby threw herself out onto the dance floor, dancing erratically to the latest electronica song that sounded like every other electronica song. "Yeah!" She cheered to no one. "Disco, disco!"

Michael's eyes looked up to the Vertigo, which was a few blocks away from the Parker Mansion, and as such, Michael decided he needed a break. And threw on his best clubbing outfit before he walked a few blocks down and into the Vertigo without being ID'd. Parker Industries had put a lot of money into funding the club to make a nice hangout for people to get to know each other and even mix in a little bit of science. Make the club a unique experience others couldn't get anywhere else. Thus why Mike frequented the place whenever he could.

Michael of course saw a few familiar faces and some new ones, of course, he did almost own the place. He wanted someone gone, they could be thrown out. And possibly banned from the club. Michael sat around at the bar for a bit, sipping a Pepsi as his eyes peered the dance floor, turning to meet a familiar face on the dance floor he shook his head as she started to make a fool out of herself, there was no doubt, this was Tabitha. He watched her for a little while longer until he decided that he'd approach and who knows, maybe even get a dance with her.

Dodging the crowd proved to be a bit of a challenge and he smirked as he drew closer. His eyes looked her over as he felt a twinge of amusement, she was having the time of her life by the way she acted. Finally he moved up behind her, and probably was about to scare the living shit out of her.

"Hello Ms. Rasputin"

Awww yeah, this has a catchy beat. Tabby's shoulders rocked with the rhythm as her head shook and her hips wiggled. Whereas many of the other patrons were blinged out or wearing incredibly provocative clothing, Tabby was feeling the ever more apparent country bumpkin in her jeans and steel-toed boots. But so what? She was rocking out and rocking out hard. Her ponytail swatted a few of the other dancers to little or no notice as she started jumping in time to the music. Man, this is so great. Totally worth two-month's allowance, the redhead thought to herself as she shimmied along, I'm gonna dance until they kick me out and then --

WHAT THE HELL.

Ducking as though she expected a yank on her ear, Tabby swiveled around to come face-to-face with whomever it was that not only knew her, but would call her by her last name. Her first instinct was that she had been followed all the way from school by a staff member and now she was gonna get it. Even though Tabby was a legal adult, school still had curfew. Otherwise sneaking out wouldn't have been such a big deal, and she knew her parents would be less than pleased with their daughter going into the city alone.

But no, this wasn't a staff member, or a friend, but an acquaintance that she knew in passing. "Michael Parker, what the flip are you trying to do? Creep me to death?!" Tabby demanded, awkwardly straightening her posture. He was dressed like the other pro-clubbers -- all nicely and probably in clothes that hadn't been bought at a store ending in "mart." "Or am I just lucky that way?" The redhead smiled, realizing that... frick, he might know that she snuck out and that she wasn't supposed to be in the city. Didn't their parents know each other? ...Or he might not. In which case, Tabby could play this cool. Yeah. Ice cold.

OOC: Sorry, it’s a little long but if you don’t want to read the intro, you can skip to the second part I marked with a line break. It wont detract from anything.
---

With a boozy yawn and a stretch that made his back crack theatrically, Julian opened his eyes with a sigh and stared at his reflection in the floor to ceiling mirror across the expansive bedroom. He had a headache and he squinted against the fading light of the sunset behind him but he smiled anyway, curling his head in the crook of his arm and snuggled further beneath the gossamer sheets tangled around him and another. He smiled as a hand moved against his stomach, sliding up to curl against his chest and in the hangover induced blur, it was a dark blue with black nails threatening to sink into his flesh. The dark haired man looked from the mirror and down to the pale delicate hand nestled against his darker skin.

A body moved behind him, fitting neatly against his and a mouth was pressed against his bare shoulder, teeth nipping strong enough to sting. The cool hand slid away as the person shifted away and moved to the edge of the bed to sit up. Julian turned to his other side to watch the ruffled mane of silver hair fall in loose tangles down a slim back, the sheets wrapped around their waist in the façade of modesty and obscuring his vision from roaming. There was no need for modesty after the night they shared and Julian reached out to wrap fingers around the jut of a hip and drag his lover back into bed with him.

“Come back to bed, Natalie,” he said with a low growl and the skin beneath his fingers was cool to the touch. He tugged gently to make his point but the woman didn’t so much as budge. He watched her for a moment and was about to wrap his arms around her to pull her to him when she turned her head to look over her shoulder. Gaze as sharp as a eagle latched onto him from the corner of a eye and pinned him down with a stare that was cold enough to make his skin prickle. He caught himself from squirming underneath it and his hand slid away and the air felt a touch warmer.

Nál watched the sun slowly set, filling the penthouse with shades of pink and oranges and cast shadows against the strewn clothing tossed around the floor, the shards of glass from a broken vase knocked over in the moment of passion and the remains of dessert, chocolate covered strawberries and champagne flown in from Paris. They had been terrible but the champagne was decent enough. Sitting on the edge of the plush bed, he dragged toes against the lush carpet and toed a high heeled boot in a deep blue. His companion finally awoke nosily and tried to woo him; Natalie, back into bed. Refraining from rolling his eyes, Nál spared him a brief look before standing and crossed his arms over his bare chest, still very much female.

“I don’t think so.” His voice was a silky soft purr leaning more toward his normal tone, enchanting men so easily with his whispery breath and sharp undertones, promises of what he could truly do with his silver tongue. He didn’t bother turning to give whatever his name was, a lasting glance of his feminine body as he strolled off toward the bathroom. “I’m going to bathe. No,” it was a sharp command, cutting off any protest. “You will not be joining me. When I return, I expect you and your knockoff Gucci man purse to be gone.” Nál stopped in the doorway and set a hand on the frame, tapping perfect nails. “Or I will throw your cheap spray tanned ass implants off the veranda.”

He closed the door behind him before the man could lash out in return. Casting a ward against the door, creating a physical barrier that no mortal could break while simultaneously blocking out any annoying sound, Nál took a moment to enjoy the obvious wounded male ego no doubt calling her filthy degrading names as he tried to open the door, banging on it with a fist. With an amused laugh, he flipped the bath’s water on cold enough to be enjoyable and watched as bubbles formed from the scented charms he tossed in along with a handful of rose petals.

Time was meaningless to the immortal as he pampered himself, enjoying a long soak and would have fallen asleep in the cooling waters if he wasn’t so disinterested in it. It was his second night on Midgard and it was already so terribly dull, how could father speak so candidly of it. In the midst of debating of drowning himself out of his boredom, the sleek green cellphone resting on the edge of the tub vibrated with a call. By the second ring, he was pressing it to his ear clutched in wet fingers to listen to the excited voice on the other end.

“Mina, darling,” his voice dripped with fake sincerity. “I’m so glad you called. What? Darling, you need to stop chewing your gum like a cow and talk civilly to me. That’s better. Annunciate your words. There. Oh really?” Nál sat up, water dripping from his wet hair. “That sounds fun. Meet me outside in ten minutes. Bring my lovelies. I don’t care how you get here, sprout some wings.” Snapping the phone shut, the aesir slowly smiled before climbing out of the tub.

Ten minutes later, he was walking out of the luxurious hotel, dressed to the nines and ignored the crowd gathered around a naked body that had fallen from one of the penthouses balconies. A young robust woman with bleached blonde hair pilled high atop her head was standing next to a white stretch limousine. Wearing glittery silver pants and a crop top and massive heels, she waved excitedly as soon as she spotted Nál, popping the lollypop from ruby red lips as soon as her friend was within earshot.

“Gurl, you look so good. Did you see that dead guy over there? Crazy shit.”

“Mmm yes, the craziest,” Nál replied with little emotion and waited for the driver to open the door for them. Inside music thrummed and he could see several people seated, drinking from the minibar and laughing amongst one another. As soon as one spotted him, they waved and shouted, drawing everyone’s attention. Cheers and greetings erupted from the masses and Nál enjoyed the moment as he slid in first and crossed his legs. Of course everyone would be happy to see him, he was about to give them a night of their life.

---

Standing outside the Vertigo, Nál stood in front of his little group, consisting mostly of strangers and a couple he knew by name. Word spread fast when he was in town and Mina knew all the right people to bring to make it worth it. Dumb but beautiful, they weren’t really his kind of people to share breathing space with but they knew how to enjoy themselves and was fairly decent suck ups. Behind the bouncers and the closed door, music pulsed into the night air, turning it alive. Setting a hand on a slender hip, long black nails shinning against the faint light outside, Nál glanced at the others before strolling forward.

“ID please,” the bouncer said.

“I don’t need ID.”

“Sorry miss, you can’t get in without it.”

Nál smiled, lips nude and glossy and the hand on his hip lifted. Lips parted and words spilled like magic, weaving a story in a language unknown and with a flick of two fingers as if banishing someone, the man was snatched by an invisible force and tossed aside like a rag doll. The god looked to the other man and raised a slim white brow and before he could reach for his radio, he too was thrown across the street. Dusting his hands, Nál spoke another quick incantation and the doors were thrown open with a loud bang. The DJ paused as his record was sent spinning off and there was a brief moment of silence before it was replaced with another. The music thrummed to life and lights swiveled and at the first note, Nál blazed a path forward. On beat, his black, thigh high boots clicked sharply across the floor. Dressed in a haute couture dark green and black mini halter dress, it clung obscenely to his curves with the hem reached mid thigh, just barely covering the essentials. A low cut neckline and off the shoulder long sleeves gave it a mix of coy enticement. He kept his hair long and loosely curled with a simple diamond encrusted hoop earrings and matching ring to finish the look. He finished the look with smoky eyes and makeup so flawless, it would make Giorgio Armani weep. He took it a step further with a equally perfect body, so easily created with a mere thought. Tonight was a blend of genders, beauty hidden in his androgyny, he was neither and both and that suited him perfectly.

There were eyes on him, it was impossible to not stare at the overdramatic entrance, especially when lights moved on their own accord and alight him with a glow and his pathway like a catwalk. Two of the men of his little group made sure to part anyone in his way, eager to please and Nál almost felt sorry for their pathetic existence. Almost. When Mina had suggested the new club, he nearly turned it down but it had since been rebuilt and a lot of money put into it and that was enough to spark his interest. He stopped long enough on the edge of the dance floor to give it a quick lookover and made a motion of his hand for the others to do what they wanted. A couple wandered over to the bar and the rest went to secure themselves a booth, leaving he and Mina.

“Hey, I gotta pee, dance with me when I get back,” Mina shouted at her friend before wandering off, leaving a sighing Nál who rolled his eyes.

“Honestly, I don’t know why I put up with her,” he said to himself before melding into the dance floor. His body found the rhythm and with a sway of his hips, he was apart of the music. He felt the air vibrate along his skin in tingles and he weaved his hands up, letting it wash over him and dragged his hands down his body, over his hips and to brush against his thighs, the skirt hem ridding up a fraction as he curled his fingers before bringing them back to his hair. Eyes closed, he ignored the occasional silent quest to dance with him and turned away to savor the dejected.

While awaiting Michael's replied, Tabby continued moving in what she considered dancing. Her ponytail bobbled, her feet alternately tapped to the beat, her shoulders moved from side to side. Yeah, make it look like she belonged, like she was supposed to be there. That would totally throw Parker off if he had even the slightest suspicion that she wasn't supposed to be there. The notes to "Boss Ass Bitch" suddenly dropped and the redhead let out a small scream. "AH MAH GAH, MIKE, THIS IS MY JAM!" Tabby yelled to the boy over the bass notes as the dance floor turned into a seething mass of perspiration misted bodies.

And just then, a lithe figure with hair fairer than snow and eyes that positively smoldered enter the club. A shiver suddenly ran down Tabby's spine, halting her erratic dancing for just a moment. This person, whoever they were, had an entourage to match the exquisiteness of their form, features, and fashion. And the hair! The hair! Holy crap, is this what erudite New York clubbers looked like all the time? Leaning over to speak to Michael over the bass, Tabby informed him, "I have the weirdest boner right now."

The beat was so loud that Tabby could hear it in her chest, and she started bouncing her knees in time to the music, mouthing the words to the song and flailing in Parker's general direction since he didn't seem to be rhythmically inclined like her. No regrets. None whatsoever. Best grounding-pending decision I ever made in my life. And then... there was that radiant hair. "Dude, let's go make friends!" Tabby yelled to Michael before shimmying over to the androgynous blond.

"Hey!" Tabby shouted by way of introduction. "Your hair is awesome. I bet it would be absolutely amazing to run through it barefoot."

There was a voice behind him nearly lost in the swell of music, simple and undemanding and he would have easily misplaced it if he couldn’t hear everything around him. There wasn’t a sound or movement he didn’t miss, the club around him buzzing with life like a busy hive of drones surrounding their queen bee. Nál had allowed a strapping young lad to dance near him, tempting him with a swing of hips that sent a dangerous flair of the short skirt. The desire had been in his eyes before Nál had even looked in his direction and it was entirely too easy to draw him in. He rolled his shoulders and leaned forward with a gentle press of his lips, the boy was his.

He gave a toss of his head, sending the silvery locks cascading over a shoulder and flicked it back with a tilt of his jaw accentuating the length of a slender neck as he drew his head back. Long lashes fluttered open as Nál gazed upward toward the ceiling and the corner of his mouth slowly curled as a green eye finally drew to the edge and eyed the woman standing beside him. It was a gift he bequeathed to so many unworthy of his gaze and he was already moving away, turning his back against her as if she was intruding but spun again to finally face her. Rolling hips that would make a nun burn, the arch went through his entire body just shy of an obscene pantomime as he sighed out a breath and chased hands up against his sides.

The woman had red hair, like fire and sunsets and clearly not from a bottle, pulled back too tightly to create a pinched look that escaped the average attention. Bright eyes in a pretty face, her clothing was atrocious and offensive, obvious a bargain bin special. A chipped diamond in the rough, she could almost be passable in his eyes. A tilt of his head brought his cat like eyes into focus, shades of blue and green focused distinctly and separately in each iris and he caught the woman in his gaze, pinning her heavily with a carefully crafted look of a predator eyeing it’s prey. He moved with precision, stepping into her personal circle while maintaining the flow of his dance, inviting her with a curl of his hand to extend it out, only to pull away if she reached.

“What a peculiar thing to say.” His voice was low, she’d have to strain to hear him speak and he waited a moment to release her from his gaze to lazily glance at her companion. He was a little more appropriately dressed and too adorable for his own good, like a little puppy. It didn’t escape his attention who was looking at either. Who didn’t know the son of Peter Parker. Nál gave him a considering flick of his eyes up and down as if appraising a diseased and bloated cow and the curl of his lip in disgust was not missed. What did Parker see in this scrumptious nobody?

Without pause, Nál lofted a delicate hand and brushed the back of his nails against the woman’s temple and down her cheek in a feathery touch catching her chin with the tip of a sharp nail. With a gentle pressure to tilt her head up to look at him, he leaned into her, clothing whispering against one another not quite touching as he stilled long enough to tower over her. Tipping his head down, his breathe was cool across her lips as the space between them slowly vanished and despite the fervent dancing, there wasn’t a hint of exhaustion in his breathing. “You,” he breathed and felt the vibration in his throat as he drew out the title like a purr. “are unworthy.” He flicked the nail under her chin sharply and the quiet laugh that followed was not wholly unkind. It danced between the space between them and Nál was leaning away to give the poor child breathing space.

It was definitely a good feeling seeing Tabitha again. She was a good friend of his, and although she was, easily putting it weird, she was always there for him when he needed someone to hang out with. Michael's danced a little bit more and although he knew he wasn't as flashy as the others in the room, he still looked decent for a club. So he would fit in, but he was a little bit more modest than some people he noticed moving around and dancing the night away. Then his eyes moved to a newcomer, was this a guy? A chick? There was honestly no telling. And judging by the overdramatic entrance, what with banging doors and magically changing up the music, he knew this was going to be interesting.

Soon hearing Tabitha's remarks and watching her make eye contact he'd keep quiet and finally the boy-girl came over to them and began to pick on Tabitha for her clothing. Raising an eyebrow Michael would throw on his sunglasses and shook his head. After the song played as if out of nowhere, the DJ went back to the regular allotted program for tonight and Michael smiled at the newcomer gently. Although there was some spider-sense going off, he would definitely be keeping his eye on this one.

"How about you two converse among yourselves....I'm gonna go DJ for a bit" he smiled and quickly made it to the DJ stand. Starting to do some things with the DJ that only close friends (bros) would do, he'd look to him and tell him to take a 15 minute break, before moving to the station and taking the station for a moment and looking over what he was working with. Soon after the song was over he'd take the mic and begin spouting off "Alright ladies and gentlemen welcome to The Vertigo, #1 party central!" he said, and upon saying those few words he'd smirk as the crowd went nuts through his sunglasses. "Alright, we're gonna have ourselves a little contest, any ladies who want to win free drinks for a year courtesy of Parker Industries bring your sexy asses up on stage.....we're gonna see who's the best dancer in the house tonight.....just please be 21 or over" he would add "Last thing we need is a drunk teenager on our hands cause that'll lead to a lot of legal bullshit....alright ladies....I'll give you 5 minutes and we'll get this started" Michael would add and he waited, collecting IDs to make sure that they were following rules.

"Alright ladies and gentlemen, these beautiful ladies up here want to compete to see who can dance their way into victory, guys, we'll have some contests for you as well.....at the end of the song, I need the audience to scream for their favorite lady, whoever gets the loudest reaction will win....free drinks...for a year!" Michael would begin, looking to the women to make sure they were ready he'd immediately begin to play a House Mix of 'Shots' by LMFAO. And watching as the ladies began to dance, rocking out at the DJ stand.

He was all about partying tonight. He had also received whispers from a security officer that had seen all that went down outside through the use of a camera. Michael raised his eyebrows but as he saw that the man also had a companion with him he sighed. "Let them stay man, if they cause anymore trouble I'll come get you" he said gently as he looked to the concerned security guard and would have two new bouncers be sent out to guard the door.

The contest was overall going great, and Michael was thoroughly impressed on how his one generous offer for free stuff had such a massive turnout. The song was not nearly done and here were some people giving it their all to get the prize that Michael had offered. And so it began. "Alright ladies, lovely dancing so far! There is some serious talent in The Vertigo tonight" he said "All of you stay up on stage, we're gonna do elimination rounds!" Michael would quickly spout as he quickly matched the music as the last song to play was coming to a close, and he quickly seeped it in. His eyes looking across to the mysterious figure and Tabitha, just making sure nothing further would happen.

He was committed to making sure everyone had a good time, but if things escalated, he would put an end to it....

There was something... absolutely enticing about this person with the hair made out of starlight and skin as pale as the moon itself. Tabby didn't have any quandaries on who she was attracted to; after all it was peanut butter and jelly, not peanut butter or jelly, right? And this person, with their heart-stopping entrance and the way they moved like silk across the dance floor... there was a dangerous sultry edge to their entire being that made Tabby both excited and on edge at the same time.

When she told Mike that she had the weirdest boner, she wasn't very far from the mark.

It was almost as though they were something elusive out of a dream, turning away to shirk Tabby and her compliment (because seriously, how could wanting to feel someone's gossamer locks between your toes be anything but a compliment?) only to turn back and offer a hand. Dance? Yeah, Tabby came to dance with people other than herself. She reached forward to slip her hand into their pale fingers only for her target to be stolen away.

Playing hard to get, I see. Well, Tabby could awkwardly try to do the same.

The timbre of their voice was barely beneath a whisper compared to the pounding of the club music, but the redhead was able to catch the words. "Yeah, I guess you don't hear that every day -- but it's not every day that I see someone with hair like a unicorn. And not like a trashy unicorn, like those high class unicorns that only virgins can see or catch or stuff." Tabby paused before adding, "Which I guess makes sense, if you think about it, you being all charmingly evasive up in here."

And then their nails were delicately being drawn across her cheek, eliciting an unexpected shiver from the redhead as goosebumps puckered her bare arms and shoulders. Oh dude. Are people this hyper-sexed in the real world? Because DAMN. The point of their index nail found a fulcrum on Tabby's chin, and her gaze was directed up at their hetero-chromatic eyes all a-glitter with thought and intent. Their words... almost made the redhead feel ashamed. What could that even mean? How could she be --

Oh, wait. The no drinks bracelet. That had to be it.

"Who needs alcohol to have a good time? Not this gal." Tabby replied to the person. "I'm always under the influence... of Jesus Christ." The redhead pumped her fist in the air, as though she were bumping her knuckles with the deity above. "But, you know, if it really bothers you... three more years until I'm totally worthy." The woman then lowered her voice and whispered, "Or before then if I flirt with the bartender. True facts."

Mike's voice suddenly reminded Tabby that it wasn't just her and this ethereal being who also seemed oblivious of personal space. "Put on something we can twerk aggressively to!" Tabby called after the man, not sure if he could hear her voice above the beat. "Do you know how to twerk?" She questioned her new companion (hey, she had set out to make friends, hadn't she? Even if this friend was totally up in her grill while her other "friend" just wandered away without a word. THEY WERE GOING TO BE FRIENDS, DAMN IT.). "He's Mike, by the way. I'm Tabby... and your nails are like... they have a fine edge, don't they?"

The DJ booth went slightly nuts until suddenly Mike's voice boomed out over the club, inviting women of legal drinking age to dance for free booze. The redhead rolled her eyes over to him as if to say, "Really?" before crying out. "YEAH! Objectification for alcohol! That sounds like the sweetest idea in the history of ever... because guys aren't already harassing women to shake their ta-tas anyway, am I right ladies?" Seriously, she just wanted to dance and shake whatever without guys ogling her goodies. Good thing she was only eighteen: old enough to be objectified without creepers being arrested, but young enough to not really be an adult.

Taking in a deep breath from her raised voice, Tabby turned back to her new buddy. "So yeah. Want to twerk aggressively at each other? I'm the whitest girl you know, but I can wiggle it like wow."

The young woman continued to spout more nonsensical whimsy, intent to keep Nál’s interest on the inanity of her words. He pursed his lips slightly in the semblance of a smile just on the edge of forming and was not wholly insulted to being likened to a creature of lore. He was more amused by her body’s reaction to his, the tremble just barely visible to his sharpened gaze, the dilation and flair of her pupils and he was certain if he ghosted fingertips across her skin he would feel the hair standing on end. Midgardians were terrible liars and so easy to read, it was almost discourteous. He could almost feel the flush of her skin and wondered how far she’d bend under his touch.

Nál let her prattle on, bulldozing forward despite their close moment and she talked of alcohol and the length of her life ruled by regulations to create a false sense of order. He gave a delicate tip of his head and a slight raise of sharp brows to humor her to see if she’d keep going. The man he had been vaguely dancing with had kept watch on the three, staring intently at Michael for distracting the hottie he was trying to hook up with. Nál, however, had already lost any sense of the stranger and shifted to the couple. They were a bit of a mismatch and while the woman babbled on, Michael remained quiet and uninteresting.

“How quaint,” Nál returned in the brief silence and he slid an arm around his chest, resting the elbow of his other daintily atop it to brush the top of his fingers under his chin as he considered the woman’s words. “Age is nothing but a beautiful illusion. Why be constrained by them…” He drew the hand down his throat, tracing the edge of his low cut dress, letting his words trail off.

Nál didn’t bother to grant Michael’s departure with a reaction, maintaining his observance on the young woman as he left her with an absolute stranger. “My,” he drew out and didn’t bother to mask the criticism in his softly spoken words. “What kind of man leaves a nice young woman all alone.” This time he curled his mouth more to add invitingly. “What terrible things could I do with you.” He chuckled quietly, breathy sounds swallowed up by the music as it begged to be returned to. The hem of his skirt slowly swayed as his hips lazily obliged as he was asked about a dance style and introduction were made in what seemed all in the same breath.

“Tabby,” he whispered and drew the tip of his tongue along his top lip as if to taste the word. He set a hand over a hip and flexed his fingers to dig slightly into the gossamer material. “Sharp enough to cut a bitch.” The awful change in music made him close his eyes briefly and nearly set fingers across the bridge of his nose as Mike introduced a drunken game. Nál remained where he was, his gaze narrowing briefly in scathing silence. Dancing for free alcohol, what childishness. Midgardians had their vices; money, sex, fame and this encompassed all of it in the tantalizing display of youthful bodies. It was hardly worth the act of saying no, why bother when scraps of green paper could be conjured up by magic and illusion. The term disgustingly rich had more than once been applied to him by his gaggle of partygoers who were still currently spread out around the club.

Nál flipped locks of hair over his shoulder with a flick of his hand, masking the fact he was watching the display quite openly and enjoying it. One woman; already intoxicated, tripped in her heels and nearly toppled several girls over and the crowd roared appreciatively. His lips tightened ever so briefly as the club became focused on the women but he was not so careless to give anything away, even when someone spoke quietly to Michael and glanced in his direction. Midgardians were terrible liars. Tabby was quite outspoken by the display however and interesting enough, he hadn’t walked away yet. This night was certainly turning around.

“What a tedious and trite game.” He barely suppressed a yawn and turned away from the contest to face the sweet young woman as she once again asked him to dance. “You should keep your adorable puppy on a leash before he makes a fool out of you.” Nál held out a hand, curling fingers to encourage Tabby to take it as he took a step backwards further onto the dance floor, the music demanding a more stronger rhythm and pace.

Taking her hand in his, he led her forward to close the space between their bodies, the height of his heels giving Nál a slight advantage over her as he tilted his head down to meet her gaze. “Show me… Tabby.” He still had control over the lights, refusing to break the spell on them and he raised his free hand and with a snap of fingers, a single spotlight lit them up. It wasn’t hard to take notice of the flashy display and even as a little attention was regained, Nál accepted it with a haughty smile and kept his eyes on his new plaything as he gently stroked his thumb over the woman’s fingers. “You’ve been noticed by your high class creature of magic, now how will you keep it?"

Quaint? Well, yeah. Tabby guess that fit her. Wasn't quaint always used in reference to country decor and small towns and hillbillies? Yeah, Tabby could accept that. Just like she could deal with being called "goober." Sure, it looked like a dyslexic misspelling "booger," but it was usually well-intended if the person who dealt the word actually knew the meaning behind it.

But then... their words spoke philosophical, poetic, beautiful words that were wholly unexpected. The redhead's breath hitched in surprise and she slightly cocked her head to the side, her body language almost asking if the person opposite them were for real. No one spouted lovely words like that at her -- well, unless you count that one dude who was entirely ego-driven and way too handsy for his own good. As he regurgitated some cheap ripoff of Shakespeare at her and decided to press himself up against Tabby at a county robotics club even, Tabby planted her knee firmly in between his legs. That'd teach him to touch girls without their enthusiastic consent.

"That's..." Tabby's own words trailed off in kind as her eyes danced on their fingertips fiddling with their neckline. Hypnotizing was not a word often plied upon individuals by the technopath, but every breath this person took fit the word accurately. It was almost as though Tabby was becoming intoxicated just by being around them, but that didn't mean that the dangerous edge she was feeling to every word was sinking further into her subconscious. If anything, it was making her caution grow stronger and more persistent. "...is a beautiful way of putting it."

The person's tone, while playful, had that hint of impending threat to it. Tabby's back almost arched with an involuntary shudder at their accompanying chuckle. But she didn't need Mike to protect her -- Hell, she had planned on flying solo the entire night. If this person wanted to be a creeper or say things that were... concerningly enticing, Tabby was going to stop them cold in their tracks by herself, not with help from anyone else. "I'd like to see you try." The redhead countered, her own usually comical tone suggesting anything but. "Last I checked, I wasn't a lamb being led to the slaughter in big bad New York City." And, if nothing else, Papa taught her to throw a mean right hook and she had steel-toed boots on.

"That's what I hear." Tabby replied to their comment about her name which, really, she never heard in her life. But she was going to accept that compliment because it sounded badass as all get out. She almost added, "It's short for Tabitha," but wouldn't it be hilarious to let them think that maybe, just maybe her parents named her after a cat? Yeah. That sounded too legit to quit.

She followed their bored gaze to the contestants climbing and clamoring for their chance for free alcohol. Once more, the redhead rolled her blue eyes, flinching slightly as someone tripped. She hoped that the woman was here with friends -- if not, Tabby'd maybe have to appropriate some emergency cash funds from um... certain places to make sure that she got the woman home. No way was Tabby going to leave someone in that state alone around people that were figuratively baying for her blood. The technopath vowed to keep her eye on the young woman until she left in case any shady characters got any stupid and despicable ideas. "Think she's alright?" She absentmindedly commented to the person, her brow furrowing in genuine concern.

Oh, fantastic, they weren't buying this crap either. A grin curled Tabby's lips and she nodded emphatically. "You're telling me. There are far more fun and productive ways of making an ass of yourself." Her lips twisted into a look of disappointment when her eyes landed on Michael, the inciter of this ridiculousness. Just then, her mysterious companion's words addressed her. "He's not mine." She ensured. "Came alone -- didn't know he'd be here. Our parents know each other and... I'm rambling." It was unexpected how desperately Tabby suddenly wanted to separate herself from Michael and his asinine exploitation of women. But any unease quickly vanished as the person (who still had no given name for Tabby to use) beckoned her onto the dance floor. Tabby swallowed and followed them with a grin.

Short breaths and a jolt of electricity accompanied the curl of their fingers on Tabby's hand, followed by the heat of two bodies in dangerous proximity. Tabby rather liked her height -- sure, she wasn't as tall as Papa, but there was a distinction in being taller than average. Just the added inches from the other person, however, made her feel dwarfed not only in stature, but in presence. Their words were coaxing, coated in honey but possibly hiding thorns beneath the sweet surface. As a single beam of brilliant light illuminated the pair and they finished their sentence, Tabby's heart hiccuped.

Magic? Suddenly her sense of enticed foreboding made all the sense in the world.

Tabby had two choices: either she panic and run back to school... or she could do what she snuck out and blew allowance on to do: have fun.

"Little old me?" She decided to purr back, deciding then and there that intimidation would only make her more bold instead of cow the young woman. "Let me try this on for size." Truly, the technopath's mind was blank. What did people do in the movies or whatever when they were trying to impress other people and capture their attention? Well, one scene came to mind from Mrs. and Mr. Smith where Angelina Jolie loosed all of her hair and looked absolutely divine. Could Tabby pull that off?

...Hell yeah, she could.

Swaying her hips to the beat, Tabby's torso snaked through the air as she reached up, pulling the ponytail from her hair with a smooth motion. Bountiful red lock cascaded down her shoulders and hair back, relaxing her face and her hairline as she shook them free. And then... Wait, if this person could use their own influence on the special effects, why couldn't Tabby? She turned away from them, swaying her lower half towards their exquisite being as the music continued. And... there were confetti cannons above them. How could Tabby trigger them with just a touch? She casually reached into her pocket as she swayed, fingers brushing against her iPhone, and used it as a receiver for the signal to the cannons. All it took was the keying of a code to hack into them and --

Pop!

Silvery bits of confetti, like plastic shards of starlight, rained down on the pair. Tabby hoped that she was at least not being boring.