Hello, everyone! after dealing with real life and the other nonsense of living, panny and i have decided to bring back war of change. give a round of applause. we’ve worked through all of the information and hopefully improved coherency and cohesion; however, tell us if we missed something. eventually, we’ll announce an event to celebrate the re-opening, so look out for information on that. -RAIDNE, THE HEAD ADMIN
From the moonless night, screams of terror and fear resound, spreading across the world and infecting the masses; however, those sleepless nights occurred years ago. A new era began with the fires of war, and with no end in sight, the residents of Selene Isle trudge through life, basking in the momentary peace. Despite their prayers for continued monotony and peace, a storm brews, stirred to life by the continued presence of Rapture and Wraith. And as we set our sights on the seemingly peace laden isle, we must ask: how shall this tale end?
As the years passed, the number of true pairs increased; however, they continued to live in the shadows, catering to the whims of the mundane. Seven Moons kept watch over them all, instructing them and assisting them, but for many, the attitudes and ideals of the organization were smoldering, suffocating. With Seven Moons and the mundanes, they could not grasp the freedom, the power dangling before their eyes. In the beginning, rebellion was a dream, a fantasy, a figment—developed by the repressed and carried forward due to the nature of humanity. No one expected the call to sound, and no one expected the call to be answered. However, it happened.
The man in front of her wasn't the largest doorman Marcela'd ever encountered, but he had enough muscle and enough of a violent glint in his eyes that she knew he'd be a formidable obstacle.
"Mmm,"she took the last mouthful of smoke from the smoldering filter of her cigarette, stubbed it out on her fake watch, and then flicked it past the man's ear, "Mmmmaybe."
She had a few inches on this guy, considering she'd chosen six inch wedges the color of cheap red wine for the occasion, and she made sure to highlight this by glancing down her nose at him every few seconds. Bluffing her way into a venue was familiar territory for the mercenary and while sometimes its required bribing or sexual favors, she found she could usually slip by with confidence alone.
The bouncer wasn't having it, though. Eyes set like steel cables that hummed and swayed from the weight of the bridge they carried. An idealist, probably. Marcela figured he must be the schmuck who got joy from his day-in-day-out lifestyle; the kind of bastard who figures as long as he's employed he's got "purpose".
"Are you on the list? I'm not going to repeat myself again."
"Have to be honest then an' tell ya I'm a no show on that stupid lil piecea shit list," she leaned towards him so that her nose barely touched his own, "But I was hopin' you could make an exception."
Her hand had been trailing down his dark shirt and, during the last syllable, cupped itself around the crotch of his jeans. Marcela tightened her hold and jerked her hand up slightly, her face smug as his eyes widened in surprise and a small, high exhale squeezed between his pursed lips. His expression twisted into anger and he drew back his right hand, but froze as Marcela's free hand produced a small butterfly knife and pressed it against his thigh with enough forced to feel the quality of the blade.
"A'ight," she whispered, as if she were discussing paint colors for the outside of the shabby building, "Now here's my proposition. Maybe it's really more of a fun game a 'Wouldja Rather'. In a second I'mmuna unzip the center of these ugly ass, overpriced jeans and you get to choose what goes inside: the knife," she dug the butterfly further into the fabric, "Or this thick wad a cash."
Flipping the knife over in her hand with her thumb, she ducked her head downwards into the center of her exposed cleavage and produced a large collection of notes bound with a piss colored rubber band. The exercise took only a second and she dropped the roll into the waiting palm of the knife-hand.
"Don't got all night for ya to choose, man."
Hand shaking, the man reached out and tapped the notes. She released him and took a step back, sliding the knife up into the bottoms of her black romper and tucked it into her underwear.
"Smart, bruiser, real good thinking there."
She brandished the roll in front of him a few times, but his stoney face had already returned.
"You're not allowed inside, whether or not you--"
"Yea, muscles, I got it, I got it."
She darted past him, neglecting to even attempt passing off the money as promised, and slipped through the doors into Nightshade. Of course the man would try to catch her and kick her out, but she figured this would only add another element of entertainment to the night. Besides, now that she was inside, there wasn't a person on the earth who could drag her back out.
tags: Hae-Sun 'Haine' Mirae ooc: sorry this is so rushed, i'm a lil distracted atm OTZ
Like many other nights, Nightshade remained to be a full house despite the fact it was reserved only for those who on the list or affiliated with Rapture. Only certain and few patrons knew majority of the clubbers were part of the rebirth group, for they would glance with a secret message on their eyes on one another. At one corner of the club, many eyes intended to peek on this one particular figure of a lady. She has set her back leaned against the wall for an hour now, watching others on the dance floor with no expression expressed on the Asian face. Some did pass by in front of her with an intention their appearance may moved her but the woman would only take few seconds good look on them and elegantly moved her eyes away- a sign she was not interested. One hand rested with the thumb slid in between her skin and the waistband of her skinny jeans. One leg crossed over the other by the ankle and idly tapped on the ground to the beat of the booming music played by the disc jockey.
Who was she waiting for? No one. She gave up waiting long time ago. She wanted to move on, but it was hopeless. Her heart remained to linger in the past, in the memories before she was forced to face the fact her loved one was on the enemy's side. As the rhythm picked up its pace, she found herself urging to head to the dance floor and dance. It was then one of a group of adolescences broke out from his circle and headed to her. He was a good looking young fellow, tall and has earring on his left ear attached a chain linked to his lip ring. Two caught each other's eyes and as he approached and leaned by the wall beside her, his lips began to move as he whispered something to her. The woman had not moved her eyes and remained expressionless until he finished his sentence, subsequently made the young woman looked at him.
"Really, now?" She whispered lightly and nodded. The man replied with the same body gesture and walked back to his circle, leaving the female owner of the nightclub grinning on her own.
Her eyes set on the door located not far from where she was standing. Well now, who is this uninvited guest that was brave enough to shove off her doorman and walked in to her den?
@feral OOC: Typing this with eyes all teary cuz sleepy. Sorry if it's bad cuz it's HORRIBLE ngl
The sight Marcela met as she charged through the club's formerly impenetrable was fantastic. Of course she'd heard rumors regarding the scene that this exclusive venue boasted, but she'd never quite seen something so raw and wild hidden by such a shabby outer layer. It was like taking a sip from a discarded plastic handle of vodka and finding that it was filled with blue label whiskey. She wove through the circles of patrons, gathering a few looks as she went. Between the double half moon bars and the two story set-up, the place reeked of exclusion.
She wasn't supposed to be here and the vulgarity of what she had done bubbled up from her belly and into her broadening grin. There was something here for her. Something laced under the sickeningly sweet scents of the chic night-life atmosphere. If circumstances of of its location and forbidden entrance weren't suspicious enough, then the rings of social circles were. Factions maybe? Was this some cluster fuck of elite business people; the sorts who sent drones into the desert and swept it bear while drinking moscato by the sea or signed off the futures of millions of workers over their fashionable mid-morning brunches?
A cult maybe? A gang?
The throb of the music was getting to her, the lights spinning and flickering in time to the invisible swells of desire and apathy that moved through the crowd. She hoped they were all rich. There could be business here or at least a few good wallets to snatch, gut, and dump. But first she needed a drink.
The beat had gripped her and she moved in time, as if pulled by a string, with the recently popular song until she found herself at one of the moon shaped bars. The bartender was busy with a cluster of dark eyed girls who seemed to be flocked around another young woman who looked like she couldn't have been a day over ten. Blue hair, big eyes. Marcela decided she didn't want to know and scanned the selection of bottle on the far wall, unaware that a small ring had cleared a around her; some of the other guests' eyes darting from her and the opposing wall.
When the bartender finally slid over, she winked and said, raising her sharp voice above the music,
"Two shots of Platinka."
The man nodded and his hands dipped behind the counter, emerging with a shot glass in one and the vodka bottle in the other. Marcela slipped a few notes across the counter and eyed the bottles on the far end again.
"Those just for show or something?"
The man nodded, obviously uninterested and poured her first shot. He'd barely topped it off when she snatched the tiny glass and gulped it down. It stung like hell but the sensation was welcome. She set the glass down and he poured again. She shot again and then, with a small salute in his direction, turned from the bar. Perhaps it was the harshness of the liquor that had wrenched her from the charms of the music or perhaps it was luck alone, but, when Marcela looked out across the groups of young bodies and spinning lights, she saw the woman watching her.
Even from a distance, Marcela noted something aggressive in the stranger, but not in the way that she was accustomed to. There was danger in her composition and quiet curiosity that outmatched any direct confrontation Marcela's encountered. Marcela cocked her head and placed her hand on her chest, feigning a look of wind-blown surprise, and mouthing who me? at the mysterious woman.
Her better sense urged her to leave now while she was still anonymous and safe, but the drive of discovery within her declined softly and began to guide the woman back across the floor. And it was not long until she was approaching the woman who looked at her like an animal watching its prey. There was power in this woman and something fluttered inside Marcela.
"This your Nightclub," she said as casually as she could over the music, "Or do you just people watch it like a hawk for the helluv it?"
tags: Hae-Sun 'Haine' Mirae ooc: no worries man. make sure to take care of yourself <3
Obviously, the woman was not interested to join the 'lowlifes' on the dance floor. If she was to dance, she will dance on her own. She would wag her tail, flash her beautiful fur and let others fall for her. She would let them move to her beat, letting them wrap around her paws. However, there were other things that needed to be prioritized and one of them was this issue of someone breaking in into her Nightshade. What an unpleasant news.
Her eyes had begun scanning faces in the nightclub. The space was rather dim and crowded and the neon lights were too striking. They made her eyes contracted and relaxed involuntarily, forcing the female to eye elsewhere. With alluring way of averting back her eyes to the space before her, particularly towards the bar counter where her eyes had found a face that screamed familiarity but that familiarity was not registered either as part of the patrons, or as part of her Rapture. Tilting her head, her bros relaxed as she shrugged her head up in a 'yeah, you' motion. Her hands trailed along her body, seeking for the jeans rivets. Once they found them, the thumbs slipped in and let the rest of the hands hung outside.
To tell the truth, she was not amused by this. She may have realized who this woman was and she was not indeed an unpleasant news to her. "What the hell is she doing here?" she asked to herself, remained to show unaffected expression on her feature. Being a Regalia promised her a life full of thrill, but also a life of secrecy she has to keep safe. If one was to discover the real face behind the fox mask, there will be only death awaits for him, and she will have to serve a penalty for defiling such trust.
Anyway.
The woman decided to start the conversation with a confusing question. A hawk? Now that made the Regalia chuckled. She fixed her head to tilt another side so her eyes could see the woman's face in full. Oh, that's right. she did not know she was the Foxy she nicknamed. Her hatred remained in her mind for this mercenary who arrogantly challenged her principles that night. She hoped not to remember it. For now, this meeting seemed to promise an entertaining show.
How much can she play with her?
A grin flashed slyly on her lips. Her voice heard like a purr, but because she was just born all too proud to play a game, it sounded like she was simply teasing her. "What does your gut says?" She asked back. She began to pace beside her, raising her head up as she walked. "I don't remember seeing you around..." she said, turning her body by her heel to face her. "...are you lost?" She noticed few eyes have set on them, particularly on this older woman. Of course, they all realized she was not one of them. She could be a prey or a predator trying to mess with their den. Either way, for her to casually approach the female leader, and the leader acted as if she was not a big deal held them all in their place.
@feral OOC: Naaah I'm all right XDD pretty excited lmao
As the woman spoke, Marcela felt a familiar sensation in the back of her throat. Perhaps the stranger reminded her of past friends or employers, but, regardless, she could not shake the sense of affinity she was experiencing towards her. Some of the motion on the dance floor had slowed or stopped altogether and Marcela managed to catch a few sidelong glances towards her. The alcohol buzzed in the back of her mind, blurring a few of the brighter lights.
"My gut, huh? 's telling me that I really stepped in some shit coming in here."she winked at a young man who had been staring and laughed as he paled slightly and ducked back into the fray of the night club, "Also tells me you're callin shots a some sort 'round here. Like, the big shit shots or at least biggish ones."
The woman whipped around suddenly, so that she and Marcela would have been nose-to-nose had the latter not towered, via genetics and heels, over the former. Marcela's fell on the woman's body for a moment and another flare of recognition rose in her, but she pushed it back down; entertaining a more carnal notion instead.
"...Are you lost?"
"With your beefcake brigade all up front," Marcela threw back her head and laughed until she snorted, "Please, y'all gotta be dull to think anyone could stumble on in here without meaning to." a beat and she added with a combative smirk, "Which I did, by the way, because I'd heard good things 'bout this place and it ain't fair to keep good things all padlocked up for yourselves."
She winked and then, after a second of consideration, her her hand on the woman's shoulder; lightly at first, testing for a reaction, and then its full weight to show that she was neither afraid nor remorseful for her violation.
"So you gonna throw me out, Big Shots Hawk, or can I getcha something to drink?"
A strategic prodding of the woman, Marcela just wanted to keep the odd feeling in her stomach, the one of eerie recognition, at bay until she could better assess the situation. tags: Hae-Sun 'Haine' Mirae ooc: blegh. sorry its so short. :{
"A woman like you surely did not come just for some cheap entertainment"
In the eyes of others, the two females were like Alphas bristling their feather and fur at the sight of one another to see who was better and more dominant. At the same time, the two looked so well compatible together. Little did they know that the older woman was actually someone who their beloved Vulpes had encountered before. Hae-Sun surely remembered, oh definitely. She was not all sure if the other woman knew her though. A light scoff escaped from her mouth as she muttered, "You don't say." Man, her father will shave her fur if he discovered a mercenary just walked in to the Rapture's lair. It was not meant that the group has lack social skill. Having a mercenary as one of alliances could come in handy. However, Hae-Sun deemed her not worthy of such recognition for she was just another murderer and worse, she did it for money, which was something Hae-Sun loathed the most. Maybe that was why her father has no mercenaries whatsoever as part of his regular backup contact list.
The female laughed lightly and shook her head in disbelief. So, the woman was trying to be a humorous patron, huh? Of course, she had avoided the whole part about her being the big shit. She was not sure what she was saying but she had assumed the big shit was an urban slang for the ringleader. The disc jokey changed began to play a new track- the song played in the air was a song with addictive bass and beat. How fitting. She chuckled and let Marcela continued to speak. Her ears focused on the tempo in the song, twitching and flickering coherently to the beat. The neon lights began to descend and slowly the nightclub turned dim but not completely dark. There were glitters of light on the wall and on the dance floor, surprising the guests with an almost sight of being floated in the space where stars were twinkling beneath their feet and over their heads.
One hand placed idly on her slight curvy hip as she tilted her head and gave a good look on the female's face. "Oh, really now? What kind of good things have you heard about this place, then?" She asked half-curious about it. If such 'good thing' was actually bad and might jeopardize Rapture's status then, as Regalia, she needed to step up and stop it. If there was a chance of rumors about the nightclub being the place where the group members gathered, then she might need to figure a way or two to shut her up. Although, she wished she did not have to and no such news have reached the mercenary.
SLAP! A gesture so like like a whip using a hand fan was made. Her eyes fixed elsewhere, but one should focus where her hand was. It was sharp and may be as sting as the sound. Her hand has already hung in the air just about the level of her shoulder where the female's hand had abruptly tried to get a hold of it. Few eyes began to shot daggers at the female stranger, faint hisses and grumbles heard in not favored the scene of her casually tried to lay her hand on their leader. Hae-Sun gave out a warning, "Restrain yourself from holding me, unless you want to get out of here with one arm gone." She slowly glanced back at her and gave a cold stare. The silvery eyes shined as bright as half full moon but it happened so quickly as she turned her eyes away and began walking. "No, you ARE our guest. Allow me to assist you then," she exclaimed with the words sounded like daggers piercing through every flesh that heard them.
Touching her was a bad idea, for she was one who despised the idea of being touched. You can say she may have sensitive body because the touch on her shoulder just now made the hair on the back of her neck stood up and her body felt goosebumps. She cat-walked naturally to a nearby counter bar and snapped her finger to call the bartender on service. She turned for the woman.
"A woman like you surely did not come just for some cheap entertainment, right?" she asked leaning her head on her palm.
The rumors that had kept this decrepit building a constant consideration on Marcela's radar were few and far between considering how many other nightclubs Selene boasted, but there was something about a forbidden venue that appealed to Marcela's particular kind of entertainment. If she couldn't have something so large and wild, she only found herself wanting it more. And though perhaps a fatal flaw, this was one of her favorite qualities about herself. She called it "perseverance" and "laser guided diligence", but knew it to be a classic example of lusting after what she "couldn't have".
"Come on, commander, you can't be shaken up by what a few running street raggers hafta say 'bout your classy establishment?"
Marcela'd had first caught wind of the off-limits establishment from a former fling of hers: a beefy, dark man in his early forties who would swear that behind the rotting outer layer of the building lay a slivery paradise of music and top shelf booze. At first, she'd been skeptical-- pissed off even-- by his claims, but the idea of such an oasis sparked something rough and bucking inside her. To believe and pursue such an odd rumor was freedom itself. Their inevitable separation came and went, but the Marcela's reign on the rumor remained loose and eager.
"If you're real shredded 'bout it, just know people're only sayin the nicest things and most other people're havin' none of it." she eyed the mysterious benefactor, taking in how solid and shining she looked under the shifting club lights mounted into the vaulted ceiling, "Dun expect any more catches like me to come gliding in, Hawk Eyes."
The ethereal quality of the woman kept the mercenary's spirits high and, even the incident with her hand on the stranger's shoulder could not dull the wild thrashing of Marcela's young heart.
"Restrain yourself from holding me, unless you want to get out of here with one arm gone."
"Yea? Pretty frigid a ya, but I'm curious to know how'd you'd accomplish that? I mean," her smirk grew and she settled down next to the woman at the bar, interest peaked again, "Wouldja strap me down n just tourniquet that shit or your secret night club got some better method?"
Back at the bar again, Marcela chuckled to herself and tipped her hands in the direction of the stoic bartender as if they had known each other longer than the few minutes it had taken for her to order and shoot her drinks. She'd have to take greater care, though, this round. While the woman was both familiar and exciting, Marcela'd been slipped late night drugs enough to know when such scenarios were more likely to occur. This scene was dangerous and she'd have to focus on keeping her guard up.
"White ass wine for the both a us," she glanced at the stranger to gauge her reaction to the order, making sure to keep her peripherals trained on the bartender's hands at all times, "Something light, ya know, so we can talk it up before we get 'round to yackin it up."
"A woman like you surely did not come just for some cheap entertainment, right?"
"A woman like me? Huh, stranger, you got some idea what the kinda woman I am?" she mimed flicking the woman's ear, drawing back at the last second to avoid another literal slap on the wrist. There were rules to be followed in this hidden club, and Marcela knew better than anyone that she would have to observe them properly before they could be best broken.
"Maybe I'ma shallow bitch n you're just projecting shit on me? Could be I'm just a rowdy slag who's lookin for someone hard to find?"
The recognition stirred inside the mercenary again as she took the wide glass of pinot grigio from the bartender, swirled it slowly, and then took a tentative sip. tags: Hae-Sun 'Haine' Mirae ooc: wine and flirting, eh?
"Should I say I may not be someone you are looking for because I'm just too soft."
For a stranger, she sure talked a lot. No, she was not exactly a stranger for this was not their first time meeting. Although, the first time they met Marcela was able to amuse her just for awhile until she had to state that a mercenary like her was a materialist. Hae-Sun closed her eyes as she swung her body to face the bar counter fully. One leg crossed over another as she leaned herself to the counter. Her eyes dramatically glanced up towards the bartender who gave an eerie stare at Marcela after she made her order. Hae-Sun simply tilted her head with her eyes closed. It was a sign to follow the female's request for she was a patron of this nightclub as well. Of course, it seemed majority of them were eyeing the dark-haired woman in an unsettling manner because they could not help thinking what kind of business she has with the Vulpes. However, the Vulpes's wishes were their command they could not defile. And so the bartender simply nodded back hesitantly and attended to the order.
An employee should know a thing or two about the employer- what she likes and what she doesn't like. That included the fact Hae-Sun could not handle alcohol. So when Marcela ordered the drinks for two, he assumed one of them was for the nightclub owner and Hae-Sun seemed okay about it. Perhaps, they were indeed close friends that the raven-haired leader was fine with it. To tell the truth, she they were not close friends nor she was fine with this. The fox tilted her head away from a sudden gesture she noticed from the lady from the corner of her eyes. She turned her head to face her with her silver eyes glared wildly at her. "Perhaps, one of them could be a woman who is about to get killed," she replied with her eyes blinking few time. She turned her head away and huffed. Her face remained unaffected by the situation. Her voice nonchalantly heard against the female's over-friendliness and sharp tongue, "Your assumption is pretty bad there, miss."
The slender body was pushed and turned aside so she could face the woman. Her head leaned against her shoulder as she eyed her from top to toe. Chuckling lightly, Hae-Sun stretched her hand out for a glass of drinks the bartender served for her, said her thanks for the drink and brought it to her side. "Should I say... I may not be someone you are looking for," she brushed her leg on the female's gently. She waited for the music to tune down a bit and continued speaking but in an alluring voice almost like a whisper that only the two of the could hear, "because I'm just too soft."
@feral OOC: ahahaha I keep remembering Marc's favorite for women and men. HAHAHAHA XDD
"Perhaps, one of them could be a woman who is about to get killed,"
Marcela threw back her head at that and laughed loudly enough to drive two of the club's other patrons back towards the sea of bodies crowding the dance floor. When she'd figured the point had been made, she looked at the woman and dabbed the corner of her left eye to catch the water collecting there and glanced at her finger to see if her eyeliner had smudged; grinning like a jackal who's sniffed out a clutch of eggs buried beneath a slight layer of sand. "Trust me, Birdaprey, I get that you got the power n the balance riding on those sleek shoulders a yours," with a nudge she returned the physical contact, pushing the other woman's leg away from hers in an effort to challenge both herself and the stranger, "But can't expect me to believe you're gonna mess up your evening with disposin' a lil old me."
She reached into her cleavage again, this time plucking a small vial of self made lipstick from one of the pockets she's sewn into the cheap bra and uncapped the ruddy-pink tube. Her wine glass provided an adequate reflective surface and, as she ran the substance over her lower lip, she spoke again, nonchalant and distracted as her attention turned to refining her make-up,
"Also, there ain't no way you're a softie," she popped her lips and then gestured with the opened vial towards the crowds behind them, "Everyone in here looks like they're about to shit their designer jeans everytime ya so much as flex your pinky."
Another layer of lipstick went on before Marcela was satisfied and then the tube was tucked back into her breasts. She picked up the wine glass again, feigning a sense of formality as she swirled the off-white liquid inside. Then she gulped the remainder of the pinot grigio and smacked her lips again, "Can't front like I can swallow this sweet shit without gaggin', so 'xcuse my lacka manners and restraint."
The mercenary reached over and clinked her empty glass against the stranger's, the faint collision swallowed by the swell of the electronic enveloping the room.
"I guess I'm just dyin' to know whatch're doin here that warrants such a shady operation? Like, you got it set up all perfect in here, but y'all gotta have some dirt besides the stuff on your windows. Dun have to tell me, but I guess I'm a lil in awe of how well you hold your shit."
NOTES: man, smilies always give me the run around tbh. also sorry this is so short n convoluted. :/
