<span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span> <table class=ooc><tr><td> Who: My Esper Avalon, 19 Archfang's Kos Paag, 27 IrkenJac's Jac Embupaj, 15 What: The three are at a house party in Watani. Archfang and Esper are just chilling around, and then they capture Jac from the streets and bring her inside! :o When: Does the timestamp Tria the 9th sound all right to you guys? Esper's schedule is rather filled 'till then, heh. Also, the thread will be taking place at around 8:00 in the evening. <span style='color:red'>Importante:</span> This thread is PRIVATE for Archfang and IrkenJac. Note: Esper is on the second floor as of now, but she and Kos can go for a walk or something and then see Jac. </td></tr></table> The lights were low and red-tinted. They added to the already thick and hot air. The small insects that spun around them were dyed crimson by the rays of the magicka-powered lamps, which were set all through the house. The house was set into the mountains, a modern, glass-and-stone building with a wrap-around-porch and two floors. It was not the largest dwelling in Watani, but could perhaps have been described as one of the best-made. Each room was filled with fine furniture and edgy, modern art. The people attending were just as luxurious. The people were ranging in age from their early teens to their late twenties; some were rich, most were beautiful, and all were partying. Their clothing was quirky, intelligent, and modern, and many congregated on the dance floor, spinning and twisting and grinding to the music that pumped through magicka speakers. The music was varied. Some tracks on the vast array were alternative, with driving beats, intelligent lyrics, and a unique sound. Others were indie, having a coquettish vibe and a chorus of kids humming the tune at any time. Hardcore was also being spun, classfied by manic beats and screaming, twisting synthesizer. Still others fell into the category of electronica and techno, with pounding bass and electrifying synth. It was the first and last types of music that Esper preferred over the others. Esper Avalon was one of the many guests at this typical, yet enjoyable high-end party. She wore a pair of bright orange cargo pants, with the cuffs of the ankles pushed up nearly to her knees and the drawstrings tied. She also sported a black layered chiffon tank and a pair of black, cutout wedge-heels. She carried in her paws a bottle of ginger-ale, her staple drink for these parties. She was situated in the corner of the main room (the dance hall) on a thick roll of carpet that had been pushed to the side of the floor so that the dancers could move without fear of tripping on the rug. The hot-pink femme's foot tapped tantalizingly to the beat, and her head swayed like a snake-charmer's (or was it like the charmed serpent itself?). Though she moved comfortably, she was a tad bored by the crowd that showed up. They were elitists, most of them, only preferring to speak to those they knew would be scene. Esper was in a talking mood; she hoped there would be a conversationalist adept enough to keep up with her. Fuschia brows quirked wryly at that thought, and she smiled. At the same time her claws found her shirt; she plucked at the material and wished it was white. The heat generated by the dancers only added to the boiling-hot evening air. Taking a brief look around the room and seeing few she knew, she stood up and stretched. After a brief sip from the glass bottle she headed towards the open door, through which filtered the dying, blood-red sunlight. Dodging nimbly past gyrating bodies, she made her way onto the very-large porch, which had gates on either side leading to slimmer, boardwalk-like paths along the side of the house. She knew there were a few more decks like this one at regular intervals along the wraparound deck, but settled on staying here, alone. Sitting down on a metal chair, she looked around. The scarlet light of the sunset illumined the mountains around them, casting the steep hill the house was situated upon and the stone crags beyond in a vibrant red-and-orange hue. She knew it would fade to purple and then blue later on, finally settling on black. But the party would not end then; no, it would most likely last through the night. Esper took a deep breath of the hot air and exhaled, rolling her shoulders and again undulating her body ever-so-slightly to the heavy bass beat that exuded from the open door. The bay windows allowed her to see inside of the house; Esper knew that if she layed a hand on one, the beat would vibrate right up her arm through the glass. Lazily she tapped her fingers upon the arm of the chair; the rhythm she produced matched the one emitting from the dance floor, only higher. She sighed. No Reveri, she said, thinking of a good friend of hers. Rev often took it as his durty to protect females, especially at parties. But this one seemed tamer than some of the other's he'd been at with her. It wasn't as if she really did need him most of the time; usually he just eased her mind. And his company was always wonderful to have. And no Vanemema. Vanemema was another friend; they often met up when going to parties. But her prescence was not at this soiree. Nor was Rev's. It didn't seem that this was going to be the best evening, what with the crowd that was there. "Not to mention it's so damn hot," she said to nobody in particular, waving her arms and being rewarded with feeling as if she was moving them through warm water. With a groan, she settled back against the seat and took another sip of the soda, which had practically gone flat already. And to think that it had been storming and freezing so recently... even in Bhim it hadn't been this hot.
A tiny breeze came across the porch. It had a slight coolness to it and it was found refreshing to Kos. He leaned up against the metal fence on the second floor with his red arms stretched wide, trying and get the best of the cool breeze. If it wasn't for the odd little breeze that came across the mountain pass to the house. The people that arrived at this party were nothing that he should care for. They looked like some rich kids trying to be cool and the odd little punks that said they were in hope of a rich friend. But Kos would rather be at home right now, melting away, if he could find a way home is something else though. He hoped that his green fur went good his black cords and white T-shirt. If it wasn't punk, it was closer than anything inside. He absent mindly played with a small bottle cap in which he found inside. It had a bump in it that when pushed, made a loud *KLACK* sound. The sound could be manipulated into a louder, higher pitched sound with a slip of the finger. He pressed the small bump on the cap lid, but it slipped out of his hand. It flew up over the bar and Kos found himself diving over the bar after it. Then he remembered that his wing was still broken and bandaged up. He flew over the bar and while still reaching for the bottle cap, he grabbed onto the black metal fence. It groaned loudly as his weight was applied to the foundation of the bar, which now threated to break, after the years that had slowly worn it away. He looked down at the ground as it seemed the bottle cap had landed softly in a patch of grass. He realised how far he was looking down and he made a futile attempt to pull himself back up. His paws slipped as he made to swing back up and he began to fall again. <span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span> <table class=ooc><tr><td>Long enough?</td></tr></table>
Esper set down her soda bottle, making a noise which sounded something like "Fehhhh." Raising her eyes, she followed the path of a summer insect as it buzzed its way about the vermilion orb-lights hanging from chains and impaled on stands all over the porch. Finally it made a dive inside one of the globes. Esper stuck out her tongue. I have to pierce it one of these days, she thought, and prodded it rather roughly with one claw. The music coming from inside had changed, and was now spinning Franz Ferdinand's Take Me Out on full volume. She heard a few murmuring voices begin to rise in chorus inside; the disco-like alternative thump was captivating at the worst, and she closed her eyes and hummed a few bars. But once the song was over a hardcore anthem started playing, leaving only a few pumping their fists on the dance floor. The beat, though loud, was somehow distant and unreal as it fluttered through the muggy head to 'Sper's ears, and she found it rather like a very loud bee, buzzing and thumping against a window. With a groan, she leaned her elbows upon orange capris, burying her coyote-esque muzzle in humanoid digits. It was during this time that the other pendragon entered the porch; Esper did not see or hear him, for her head was cradled in her hands out of heat and boredom. But the hot-pink femme was soon alerted of Kos Paag's presence. Click. At first, she did not raise her head, thinking that somebody near to the window inside the house had just flicked it with a claw or tapped it with some spiky piece of clothing. But it sounded again. Clack. Soon the sounds came like mini gunfire, tacktacktackticktockclick, in quick succession. This made the already disgruntled Esper grit her teeth, and finally she raised her head, wincing at the rush of blood to her brain and the brief lightheadedness that ensued. Blinking, she looked about the red-lit, ever-darkening porch. There was a male there, an evergreen-furred creature who looked older than herself but did not in any way act it. He did not appear to have noticed her, and his claws thunked quietly on the wooden deck as he walked ever closer to the edge. And just as Esper was about to issue a quickfire warning to stop it with the bottlecap, the thing flew from the male's paw, flashing briefly as it went over the side of the rail. The male before 'Sper then proceeded to launch himself over the side of the porch without hesitation, and seemed to realize in midair that his wing was thick with wrappings. Esper stood up quickly, her teeth clicking together as the rail groaned with his weight; he'd somehow grasped the finely cast metal bars but still seemed enamoured with getting the bottlecap. Esper dashed over just as he tried to pull himself up. "Shit!" Esper cried. She wasn't so very happy with this strange male's behaviour thus far, but it obviously wouldn't do to leave him hanging there while the bars strained and creaked. "S'there a particular reason you chose to do that?" she asked, planting her feet firmly and then grasping his wrists. She tightened her grip, and then began to haul. "I'm Esper Avalon. If you could just help by flapping your other wing or something--" she grunted, pulling harder "--that'd be great."
<span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span> <table class=ooc><tr><td> Its a bit shorter than yours.... but I was under the impression that you were on the first floor...</td></tr></table> Kos was relieved as two hands gripped his wrists. He tried to remember who it was that had been on the deck at the time that he had come out. A hot pink vision came to his mind but he cast it off for no one would have hot pink fur. He looked up at the paws that had gripped his. Hot pink. When he heard a voice come from the other side of the metal bars he quickly realised that the dragon now holding onto him was a female. He groaned slightly, {Please god let no guy or girl be seeing this.} He silently prayed to himself. He heard the females voice again and tried to make a mental note to help out Esper Avalon when she is in need. He flapped his other wing in response and put his feet on the ledge just under the metalwork. While she was still holding on he grabbed onto the bars jumped into the air. He began to flip over and let go of the bars. He forced the Female to loose her grip as he landed behind, as to not hurt her. He turned around and bowed deeply. <span style='color:green'>Thank you Esper Avalon. I am Kos Paag, in your service.</span> He held his bow as to not offend her. But if she did not bow then he would be offened. It was one of those things that he learned from living in the wild. Some beasts that you run into in there, you have to respect them or they will attack. And he knew just how strong she was, he didn't want to be attacked.
<span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span> <table class=ooc><tr><td>Nope, see the first post. I'm on the 2nd floor. Would it be all right with you if I headed downstairs, we assume Kos followed, and then IrkenJac posted next? So, now it goes ME, JAC, ARCH. Also, I'm SO sosososo sorry for the delay. I feel gross about it, I really do. &One thing. Would you guys like to get a pool involved in this? Like the kid who's throwing the whole soiree has one? Or something? Because I set the scene as being very hot.</td></tr></table> Fortunately, our pink-furred protagonist didn't have to pull for very long. The other 'dragon soon obliged to her frantic commands and flapped his good wing, his feet scrabbling on the thin ledge. Then, almost without warning, he hurled his body forwards and over her head. Her arms wrenched up, threatening to pull out of their sockets. Letting go as if she'd been burnt, she pivoted around to see him land. She crossed her arms, rubbing them tenderly with her paws. "Fuck," she said, gritting her teeth. "Warn me next time you want to dislocate my shoulders." Her famous spitfirey temper was stoked and ready to explode into the heated night, but she forced the heated bubbles of tempestuous anger back down, examining the grain of the wood beneath her boots quite thoroughly. When she looked up again, the green male was scraping into a deep bow. A bow? Very... traditional. I suppose. Charming. I suppose. Okay, yuck. Truth be told, it made her feel a smudge uncomfortable. "Really, really, no need. We're at a party, not a cotillion. She placed her hands on her hips, which were swing to one side in an attitudinal pose. "It's a pleasure, Kos Paag." Honestly, she felt no desire to speak to him. He was rude, abrupt, and certainly old-fashioned. "Nyah, so, Paag. I think I'll, you know, go downstairs. I need some fresh air. You can come if you like," she said. She knew she herself was being abrupt and rude, but she wasn't having the best of times at this party. So she spun on her heel and walked back inside. Now the Killers were playing, the techno-rock beats sending the floor into a milling, grinding frenzy. 'Sper considered joining briefly, but then decided against it for the time being. It was a bit cooler in here because of the central air system, but the body heat being generated was threatening to engulf the feeble wave of chilly air. So she strode around the perimetre of the room, the material of her cargo capris swishing brusquely. She did not turn to see if the Paag boy followed. Outside the dance floor, there was a small hallway. On the right, it stretched on, with doorways to other rooms. On the left, a carpeted stairway curved elegantly downward. 'Sper clunked down it, and into the front hall, which was sparse and beautiful. Red lights hovered here as well, glinting on the polished, pale wooden planks. 'Sper threw open the glass door and walked out into the evening. She breathed deeply, walking down the stairs and onto the front walk. She briefly thought about going home. Well, no, maybe someone cool will come. And maybe the Paag guy will turn out to be groovy as well. The air seemed a bit cooler down here. Hot air rises, after all. But it was still miserably sticky-warm in the emerald-carpeted front yard. The kid's parents must have spent an arm and a leg on cultivating the grass there; 'Sper had no doubt that, in the yard's original state, it was nothing more than a rocky plateau looking down an equally rocky hill to the road below. However, the former-mentioned plateu was covered in a velvety mat of warm green lawn. A brick path slid down a cliff-like hill and down to the wide dirt road. "A walk," she said aloud, and descended the steep walkway. The dry earth puffed up beneath her boots as she scuffed along the road. There was nobody in sight. 'Sper closed her eyes, breathing deep the summery scent of the night: Wildflowers and cut grass and chlorine and salt and smoke and clothes hanging out on lines. Pot smoked on side porches, rose wine, dried grass, burnt forests, and just a touch of a seared-meat scent from a restaurant in the centre of the suburban city. Her olfactories twitched as they took in the wild medly of life and death. "Oh, yes," she said softly, and continued to walk, extremely slowly, along the dusty road.
