Aurum didn’t disagree with her when she called Megan an evil spider queen. He didn’t agree with her either, but that was less important. And he followed her with no protest, another plus. Lydia liked him already. She brought him to the table, bottles and bottles of everything piled on top of it, and let him pick out whatever he wanted while she took another swig of her drink. It wasn’t very impressive, but the invite did clearly say BYOB on it.

“So. Aurum. Very interesting name. What does it mean?” She asked, smiling. On the other side of the table, a man was surrounded by the parrot-mutant host, Bianchi, and his three bodyguards. She smirked and let out the tiniest of laughs as to not gain the bird man’s attention. They were just so damn funny looking.

But Bianchi and his men soon left the other man and were coming towards her direction, to her colossal annoyance. There was no way bird brain could have heard her chuckle! Lydia cursed fate as they stopped right front of her and Aurum, a positively irritated, slightly desperate look on the head honcho’s face.

“Hey you,” he said, poking a finger into Aurum’s chest, “You seen a hot girl in a tight red top? Black hair, light blue eyes?”

Oh no way… How many freaking people are looking for Megan? She wondered, rolling her eyes at Bianchi’s back. It figured that the woman would get herself tangled with a guy like that. Lydia shot Aurum a sympathetic look as his personal space continued to be invaded, and wondered about his relationship with Megan again.

----------

One of the M dealers snuck around the back doors, and walked around the corner to a dark, secluded alleyway. He whipped out a cell phone and began to dial a number he'd never dialed before, one he'd been told to use only when big deals were going down. And there was a big deal going down. He'd seen the blonde woman Bianchi had been speaking with. The fact that he was now doling out M only further connected the dots. It had been too risky to take pictures back in the party, but he still had all night to gather more evidence. He just had to tip off the detective...

"Drop it, Ramone. You rat. Thought you'd double cross Bianchi? He's hitting it big now, you know. You should've just kept your mouth shut, then you could've hit it big with him."

"Ey Lou, I'm just calling my girl down in—."

“Save it. Don’t worry, boss told me to make this quick.”

“Wait, what are you doing—!” But Ramone’s words were swiftly stifled when Lou used his new shadow powers, courtesy of M, to envelop the informant’s face. Ramone struggled for a few minutes, but eventually his body went limp, and Lou deposited him in the trunk of the car that had just pulled up. They drove off into the sunset.

Megan struggled against the hand on her arm, until Lori's attacked out of nowhere with a Hiiiitya! straight out of a samurai movie. Hand connected with arm, Arm was impacted by hand, and then suddenly that arm was a mass of writhing tentacles. Terry cackled, not paying attention to the small blonde in the lease, and secures three more tentacles around Megan's arm before she was even finished jerking herself away from the first.

The crowd behind Lori sprang to the occasion, rather than ignoring it. They misunderstood it though, of course. Hands reach out to meet the small woman, helping her back to her feet, even as Terry's tentacle arms were reaching for the blue eyed woman's head. Megan barely had time to curse...loudly, before she witnessed her vision being blocked out by five or more wiggling tentacles. Darkness swooped in, and she heard the ominous clacking of an octopuses beak snapping open and closed in front of her face, before she was able to make sense of the situation she was currently in.

She screamed, but it was muffled in the armpit-turned octopus mouth on Terry's body. The man grinned, and threw his other arm out in Lori's direction, armpit beak snapping, tentacles wriggling. The blue eyed, twenty four year old only barely managed to cock her arm back and send a punch flying for the man's face (purely out of luck), which landed, and sent him staggering back a few steps.

Lori flailed as she fell downward, her drink sloshing out into the crowd. Somehow, incredibly, she stopped falling and revered direction. Hands pushed her upright and where she was once flailing backward, now she was flailing forward. She had time to notice that Megan's head was totally eclipsed by tentacles. Tentacles that appeared to be in the vicinity of... his armpit?

Spider girl slugged him a good one, but octo-man's tentacle hand was back around Lori's leg. She had quite enough of this tentacle fondling. Lori turned up the amperage. The fist Lori imagined inside herself that always kept a tight grip on her power loosened and her skin electrified. Her hair floated up with static and the bulbs over head, as far up as they were, brightened with the beckoning of ambient energy creating a nice spotlight on the action.

The octo-man let her leg go in a hurry, but he hadn't yet let go of Megan.

Lori tottered in and slapped him with a few extra volts riding in her palm. "Drop her." And she'd do it again too. If could have stood the thought of touching him, she would have latched on and fried him stupid. As it was, Lori had slight fear of tentacles. The first man she'd ever murdered had been a man-o-war mutant and he'd taught her the power of suction and venom.

"There's something about her eyes... Paul thought to himself as he tried to figure out exactly what his subconscious was screaming about. Even though Ms. Gretchen was smiling and offering what amounted to tantalizing looks in his direction, it never quite reached her eyes. People say that the eyes are the windows to the soul and if Gretchen's windows were any indication then she had a very dirty house. Of course, who was he to judge? He had robbed and even killed when necessary. The moment that Mr. Blob seized her hands, the curtains were momentarily drawn back and he saw a flash of the darkness within. It was only for a moment before she blinked and once again shaded the opening but it was enough. He had survived wars, living on the streets, and working with some of the shadiest characters in Europe. He knew the eyes of a killer when he saw them and for that one moment, Gretchen had revealed the truth.

Her self-control was impressive and even something that he could partially admire. Where he had only moments before seen murder he now could only see incredulity as she looked over at him as though silently asking if he could really believe what the blob had called the two of them. Suddenly the gloved hand that was holding his own seemed to change into a claw that held him tightly and drew him even closer to the woman he was trying to escape from. Her attention was no longer on him as she flirted with the big man but it was obvious from her grip that she had no plans on letting him go. Things were very quickly becoming desperate and any avenues of escape that Paul had been thinking about were beginning to close.

The crowd was dancing and cutting loose all around them so no one really noticed when the big man let out a gasp followed by a groan and slowly sank to his knees with his large hands moving down to cup the most tender area of his anatomy. "An assassin... it's the only thing that fits." Paul's mind suddenly settled on. And since he had never known an assassin that simply went to a party for the fun of it that meant that this woman was after someone. She had a target of some kind. Paul's eyes narrowed slightly as he stood up straight and tall and scanned the room around him. Petty criminals were everywhere but he had only seen two people that he would classify as major players. One was the bird brain who he located rather easily because of the feathers that stuck up above the crowd but the other was a certain blond woman that he was beginning to feel some sort of loyalty towards. A certain blond woman whose diminutive stature made her almost impossible to find in the surging masses that moved and pulsed along with the music.

As Gretchen was turning away from big man to put her attention back on him, it was time for a decision. Did he steer her toward the feathered dunce that he hoped was her target but was also a little too close to where he had last seen Lori, or did he try to steer her away to the other side of the building in order to try and protect the blond?

“Very nicely handled.” Paul complimented, offering the most sincere smile he could pull off while stepping closer and bringing their hands up so that they were now linked at the elbow while he held both their hands up against the breast of his tailored white sport coat, “Shall we go get that drink now?” There had been one final bit of information that, once processed, had made up the decision. Over at the drink tables there were many glass bottles that could be used as a weapon to take out Ms. Murder if she set her sights on the wrong person. Since he had been foolish enough to come without any sort of weapon, it was important he be near something he could use. And if Feather Boy was her target and Paul inadvertently brought her closer to her goal, so be it.

Without bothering to wait for any words of acceptance, Paul began to move through the crowd, his own hand now tightly gripping the lace covered hand that had only moments before been a claw holding him. The claw loosened as they walked, seemingly because Gretchen had decided he was not trying to escape her clutches but as they walked Paul could have sworn that the light, delicate hand within his was moving ever so slightly, almost stroking or caressing his own hand. It was enough to send cold chills running up and down his spine though somehow he managed to keep from visibly shuddering. She was playing this up to the fullest though Paul now knew for sure that this was simply a game and a part of his mind was even telling him that Gretchen knew he had come to that conclusion. Somehow she knew that he knew something was off and that was the reason she had clung to him from the beginning. He couldn’t be allowed out of her sight because he knew something that could not be let out as public knowledge… not yet. For the moment she seemed happy to let him be half a pace ahead of her, leading the way and clearing a path through the crowd.

Out of the blue as they walked, Paul’s eyes connected with those of Lucas. He had been hoping that his “wingman” hadn’t wandered too far off and low and behold he hadn’t. He was standing right by the drink table, looking back in their direction and thankfully there didn’t seem to be any blond women in his near vicinity. That meant Lori was off the hook for the moment though it most certainly didn’t mean she was safe. After all, in this crowd, safety could never be assured. Throwing what he hoped was a meaningful look in Lucas’ direction; Paul made a beeline for him and the alcoholic beverages that were being served. He needed to get something into this woman that would throw her off her game because for the moment she was still in the lead and the play clock was swiftly ticking down.

Lucas spotted Paul and Gretchen as they made their way through the crowd towards him. Things seemed to be going well. The couple’s arms were locked together and they both seemed to be getting along well enough. It made sense. They were both about the same age at best guess and their suit and dress complimented each other nicely in a weird way. Lucas had seen worse match-ups.

A meaningful, pleading look came across Paul’s face for a moment as their eyes met and he tried to convey his message to Lucas from across the room. Uh oh. Maybe he wasn’t as happy with the lady on his arm as Lucas had originally thought. Things were never easy when it came to love. A rescue seemed to be needed and Paul was reaching out for a life line. The black widow had ensnared the man and he couldn’t get free of the web. It was time to step in and fulfill his wingman duties.

With his newly acquired bottle of cherry brandy in hand, Lucas ventured forth to intercept the couple mid dance floor. People moved aside with only gentle nudges as the man weaved through the many revelers that were getting lost in the moment. The floor had taken on a life of its own. It was far more intoxicating then any drink could be and Lucas couldn’t help but move with the beat as he made his way steadily forward.

A bright flash of white light to the side of his vision caught Lucas’ attention and he noticed the blonde he had originally come this way to see only a little ways away. The crowd had parted around her and the party folk seemed to have slowed to gawk in her vicinity. Something was happening but he couldn’t quite make out what it was. Lucas would have to give Paul a head’s up somehow to let him know which direction to go to find this woman before he jumped on the grenade.

Lucas moved on a few more feet and met up with Paul and Gretchen in the middle of the Chaos. He smiled warmly at both of them before stepping in close and putting his head between them so they could both hear what he had to say.

“Paul, you aren’t going to hog this beauty the whole night are you? Let me have at least one dance with her.” He yelled over the music. Reaching out, he took Gretchen’s free hand and pulled it towards him so he could wrap it around his own arm. “I promise to bring her back to you in one piece.”

Holding the woman’s arm in his now, he turned and leaned across the gap so only Paul would hear. “I’ll handle this for you. Don’t worry about it. The blonde is about 20 feet behind my left shoulder. If I can ditch her, I’ll come by and give you a hand with separating that one from her friend so you can work your magic.” A sly wink was the best way he could think of to punctuate his statement.

Turning back around, Lucas offered Gretchen the bottle of cherry brandy. “I got this for you over at the bar. They didn’t have anything of a high enough standard to do you justice but I did my best.” He held her one hand firmly so that she would have to release Paul to take the flask.

For an older woman, Lucas could do worse. Sure she was way taller than he was used to and he couldn’t really make out what her face looked like through the veil but she filled out her dress nicely. She was borderline Mrs. Robinson with a bit of eccentric richness mixed in. He gave Grtchen his friendliest smile as he waited for her to take the booze from his hand, leaving Paul a chance to escape.

She was going to be eaten by calamari! Megan couldn't think of a worse way to go, until she realized why exactly why he had wrapped his arm..... things... around her face. She couldn't breathe! His tentacles had such a firm grip on her that she wasn't getting any air. He was going to make her pass out then drag her over to the bird creep.

...Suddenly, being torn apart face first by a clacking squid beak didn't seem so bad. The armpit mouth opened and a voice blasted out next to her ear. "Ooh, hit me again, sweet heart... that one tickled!" She could hear muffled thumping from the music outside, and a few distant sounding voices... and there were suction cups sticking to her cheek.

She wiggled even more, kicking out with her heel at his legs while her fingers set about trying to pry him off of her. Octo-man chuckled, watching her squirm while he dodged her kicks. "I would'a done this ages ago if I had known it'd be this much fun..." He didn't notice Lori gaining her balance back.. nor did he notice the electric anger in the blondes eyes. Not until it was too late, anyhow. "YEOUCH!" His tentacles jerked away from her like she was on fire, and he turned his full attention to the woman.

Megan felt the tentacles around her face contract momentarily, before a gap opened up and she was able to suck in a breath of air. She also managed to wrangle one tentacle off of her person, and held it at back while she tugged at one holding onto the back of her neck. A few very unflattering swear words left her lips as soon as she could breath again... but Jerry wasn't paying attention. The blonde had zapped him good... he suddenly had a pretty healthy dose of fear for her. He complied with her command, showing he cowardly side while tucking his metaphorical tail between his legs. He let go of Megan in an instant, before jerking back and bumping his way through the crowd... he was going to go find Bianchi and tell him that the blonde had gotten in his way, like the good little tattle-tale he was.

"Jesus!" The spider queen was happy to have a little room to herself for a moment, even if it meant that they were momentarily out in the open. She wiped at her face, thankful that this particular mutant at least lacked slime to go with his tentacles, and sucked in a few lungfuls of armpit-odorless air. "... Thanks... I owe you one... I need to sit... bathrooms?" The room was spinning what with all of the oxygen she was suddenly getting mixing in with her already inebriated state. She looked to the blonde, stepping closer to her with a little bit of a wobble inher knees, and grinned. "...You're the bestest bodyguard ever!"

Of course she led him lead her way towards the drinks with an accepting smile. There was seemingly nothing more natural to her than being led around by a tall and handsome man. She even went so far as to stroke his hand. Visibly. As the beats of a bass rolled over and trough her there was not much she could do but look graceful in spite of the menagerie erupting around her, in spite of the people dancing around her, the people intent on stepping on her dress. A few sharp looks quelled the last tendency. Thankyouverymuch, you are not welcome here. She also felt a certain smugness for having dispatched the big menace for public safety (and the gene pool).

This was the facade, Gretchen, the outside. Of his thoughts, too. There was only so much acting to his taking up a role. To his changing. After a while (and for him that could be quick) you became the role inside, fitted yourself into it, comfortably. It was a bit like the proverb about staring into darkness. And maybe there was falling there, too. I'm falling into myself, drowning there a bit. Of Humanities last secrets. And mine. Both of them knew of each others dirty little secret. And he, that was Martin in a dress, the assassin lurking, had no intention of getting shot at or similarly impeded in the progress of a ob. The darkness, he was not staring into it, he was pressing it close, so very close. And he stroked its hand. Absentmindedly perhaps. But then Gretchen was new. Gretchen was wonderful. And Gretchen would soon vanish, die a final death behind his eyes. So Gretchen gracefully stepped forwards. And walked. Glided. She enjoyed the feeling of looks upon her neck. And the feeling of those looks being envious. She knew who she was and what she had. Assets. Some of them were made of Citrus and could be peeled. There were layers underneath a truth. Always.

Their walking was intercepted by the young man from before. He had asked her autograph. Young and pretty as those things go. And quite obviously in league with Paul. This, the cold killer inside though, was perfect. Even if there was only a limited measure of trust between the two, an implied understanding, that could be exploited. He weighed them, their words, their positions. Gretchen, on the outside, was looking very much stately and beautiful. He noted the tension in Pauls body, the hard tension. He noted the pleasant smile on Lucas' face directed at her casually. (Mind you, no woman would like being casually smiled at, but Martin was no woman underneath that dress). And then he came closer, between them. Gretchens hands tightened around Pauls for just a second. Playfully.

>>“I promise to bring her back to you in one piece.”

A tinkling laugh was Gretchens only comment. It was directed more at Paul then at Lucas, but they would both hear it over the drumming base. She could feel the warmness of his hand as he took hold of hers. Bold, young man, bold, the look behind her veil said. A slight shifting of stance indicated that she was not wholesomely displeased though. Also: She had not punched his crown jewels. Yet. As Lucas went on to whisper with Paul, he would feel her hand tighten around his for just a second. Almost to the point of pain. Almost. She had taken note. Naughty, naughty boy.

Martin, on the other hand, was altogether pleased.


>> “I got this for you over at the bar. They didn’t have anything of a high enough standard to do you justice but I did my best.”

Gretchens voice stayed between the trio in her deep Alto. “Now I don't think you really have tried...” She let her voice trail off, as the Bottle of (expensive) liquor was plucked from Lucas' hand and then dropped to the ground. Deliberately. Very. Deliberately. She smiled at him while she did it. A wide smile. An inviting smile. “...we need to change that.” And with that, Paul was free of her hand. Lucas, though, was not. She held a light but nonetheless unrelenting grip on his arm while turning around to face Paul, whispering in much the same manner that had just happened between the two men. “I am sure he will do fine, once I broke him in a bit. Unless you want him back...” Some of the implications were obvious... others maybe not? She left him not much time for a reply, but positively dragged (well maybe not dragged) Lucas off. She simply started walking, his hand in hers. And she expected him to follow her lead. Plainly.

Martin had caught the whiff of a feathered head in the mass of people. It was in the direction of Lori.

=Unless I mistake myself with the last statement=

Ferret man. Bear man. Parrot man. Girl. Aurum's attention snapped back on Lydia as she asked him a question. "It means gold." He replied.

A thought struck him. She didn't know Aurum was Latin for gold? The thought, it receded. Why did it matter? One didn't need to know Latin for anything (except Latin).

Eyes strayed back around the party. The rather large, rather loud party. Eyes strayed as Aurum looked for a topic. "It's also a type of liquor," He said. "Aurum. Has gold in it." An interesting fact.

Another interesting fact Aurum noted was that the parrot man from before was coming his way. He stopped with his goon squad, right in front of him. Looking important, flashy. Loud. Like the bass behind the booming speakers. His colorful plumage stood out in stereo.

Why was it always the will of the universe to cast him towards trouble? The bird-man poked him in the chest. Aurum looked the parrot straight in the beak.

It wouldn't do to be rude to someone as loud-mouthed and beakish at the guy poking him. Aurum hadn't seen any girls meeting that description. So he said so. "I haven't. Sorry. If you'll excuse me." And with that, he slipped around the prodding finger, pulling Lydia along for the ride. Away from the bird man. Away from his posse. Towards drinks.

Somehow, he entirely missed the spotlight flash of a energy while aiming an apologetic look Lydia's way. "Sorry about that. Some guys. Think I know everything." Just because he knew some words in Latin. Big deal.

He was getting Lydia and him away from Beak-faced trouble, fast as he could take her.

Apparently Lucas had seen the distress signal because he was now coming closer with a large bottle held in one hand and a ready smile on his face. His approach was as smooth as silk as he took Gretchen's hand and made a comment about Paul's hogging her attention. For a moment Paul feared that both he and Lucas would be trapped by this black widow but then the other man's brilliance shown through. He extended a bottle for Gretchen to take without releasing the hand he had captured.

"Bless you!" Paul's mind screamed in triumph as he watched the woman make a split second decision and release his hand in order to reach for the bottle. "Yes!" And just like that, Paul was free.

But now it was time to focus on the much more pressing information that Lucas had provided. 'The Blond', presumably Lori was back behind Lucas in the direction of the drink table but apparently mixed in with the dancers. It wasn't an exact location but it was definitely good enough for Paul to start moving in that direction.

“I am sure he will do fine, once I broke him in a bit. Unless you want him back...”

Gretchen's haunting Alto broke through his thoughts and Paul turned to once again face the veiled woman. Want him back? Had she really gotten the impression that... ah, h***. Who cared? Suddenly Gretchen was moving off through the crowd with Lucas in tow in the same direction that Paul wanted to go. He could see above the crowd a mass of feathers that had to be the parties leading buffoon but somewhere in that mass there was someone else far more worth while.

Cursing under his breath at the realization, Paul began to push his way through the crowd, ignoring the shouts of surprise and anger that were suddenly appearing in his wake. Moving in a course parallel to Lucas and the deadly raven but a few feet to the side, Paul's eyes scanned the crowd trying to catch a glimpse of his quarry. The feather's were easy to see but since Lori was not the only blond she was a little harder to locate. After a few brief seconds of scanning faces Paul's eyes locked on the one person he could actually recognize.

"Lori!" Paul shoved past one final group of people arriving next to the blond and her black haired counter part. "It's time to move. This party is about to get a whole lot more crazy. Someone's here to take out either you or bird brain so how about we get a little distance between the two of you!"

It was abrupt and to the point but Paul didn't have the time for pleasantries. At most he was perhaps five or ten seconds ahead of Gretchen but he didn't want to glance over his shoulder to see just how close or perhaps far off his estimate might be. "Could we hurry a little bit?" His current plan was to shadow Lori out to make sure she got to safety but since he really didn't know her all that well, there was no telling what she would do. Really the only plan he could make was to stick close to her and help in whatever manner he could.

Since the actual fight was over and nothing really spectacular had happened, the crowd dispersed back into pockets of talking, dancing and general frivolity.

Octo-creep slithered away. Lori was half glad to see him go, half sad that she didn't char him into a cinder and half still freaking out. Needless to say, she was a little overwhelmed at the moment.

Bathroom? That would be better for talking this out and it would give Lori a moment to breathe and get past the tentacle man. A thrill ran up her spine. Freaking tentacles still freaking freaked her out.

Lori's hand shot out to catch Megan's arm at the elbow. Little tingles of electricity leaked between them where they touched. The blonde might be small, but every day she moved her metal coiled bones through her own magnetic field. Every movement was a work out that kept her arm muscles and charge level strong.

She pulled Megan around and into a headlock, a more difficult feat than it should have been considering her dress and its precarious neckline. That would keep the other girl out of sight of the parrot and make sure she didn't attract any more unwanted attention with the added benefit that Lori would know where she was at all times.

The blonde took one step toward the ladies' room when she heard her name. Paul was one of the last people she would have expected to see at this place and at this time. She could have kissed him, but he had said to hurry. It was about time somebody was on her side.

Her unoccupied arm shot out and grabbed hold of Paul's hand. She was going to start to loose momentum if she kept letting herself leak electricity all over the people she touched, but for now she was too keyed up to keep it all in.

Luckily Paul wasn't too tall or else this tactical retreat wouldn't have worked out so well. Even so they had a few people who had to be kicked to get the message to move out of the way and that attracted attention only if they shouted in protest too loudly. The blonde steered them all to the women's restroom. With a heeled foot she kicked the door open. Three girls lined the mirrors, slathering on more makeup on top of what they already had. No doubt more were in the stalls.

"Hey!"

"He can't be in—"

"Get out or I will put you out."

Lori let go of Megan's neck and Paul's hand. "Paul, meet Megan." And Megan could likely figure out that the gray haired man's name was Paul even in her inebriated state.

She went to the stalls and pushed every door in toward the toilet to make sure they were clear. The doors that stuck because of a lock would not stay closed for long. She would count to three in her head before she would start pulling them off their hinges.

Somewhere in the last few seconds, Lucas had lost control. He had thought he was helping out Paul by extracting him from the pleasant and refined older woman. But now, things weren’t as nice. Gretchen had suggested breaking him in before giving what was left back to Paul as if he was the man’s possession. He had gone from savior to play thing, being traded between these two people for undisclosed future considerations. Lucas couldn’t help but ponder how thing had gone so wrong while being pulled through the crowd by the deceptively strong woman. He needed to get things back in hand before he ended up living the rest of his life in someone’s basement with nothing but chaps and a gimp mask.

Looking around as Gretchen yanked him further into the crowd, Lucas noticed a familiar person close by. Paul seemed to be just ahead of them, pushing through the partygoers as well. His goal, the lovely young blonde that Lucas had caught him checking out earlier. Unfortunately for Paul, the black veiled woman seemed to be right on his heels, bringing Lucas along for the ride. What the hell was going on? In the end, the only thing Lucas knew was what his role in this little game was. He was Paul’s wingman first and foremost, and he didn’t take this lightly. Having the veiled temptress interrupt Paul while he introduced himself was not going to happen if he could help it.

Planting his feet, Lucas pulled back on Gretchen’s arm suddenly, spinning her around and back against his chest so they were facing each other in an intimate fashion. His free arm wrapped around her waist and he tried to hold her gaze as he spoke. “I hope you don’t find it to forward of me but I find you absolutely stunning.” He lied.

A quick glance over Gretchen’s shoulder let Lucas see that Paul had arrived at the two girls and had begun his play. If the woman in the black dress could be stalled for a minute or two, the older man would have a chance.

“Your perfume…that hint of citrus… is so…intoxicating.” He continued as he gave a deep inhale to exaggerate his point.

Gretchen’s body, pressing up against his chest, felt harder than Lucas had imagined it would at it disturbed him slightly. It wasn’t the fact that Gretchen was in shape, that much was clear but there was something more. Something off about how she felt next to him. He let his eyes wander to try and give the impression of interest while looking for some other sign to clear the itch from his subconscious. His gaze moved along her shoulders towards her neck. The slender, feminine curve was interrupted by the cutest little Adam’s apple underneath her collar. Lucas swallowed hard as things came into focus.

“Oh crud.” Lucas said as he quickly pulled his arm away from Gretchen’s back. Paul had dumped him with a transvestite while he went off to hook up with the blonde. That guy was such a…

Looking over, Lucas’ thoughts were interrupted as he noticed Paul ducking through the ladies room door with both the blonde and the brunette at the same time. In less than a minute, he had not only shed both Lucas and Gretchen, but turned into Hugh Heffner somehow. Paul had managed to pick up two of the hottest women at the party, who’s combined age was probably less than his, convincing them to sneak off to a stall with him for some privacy.

Turning back to face the tranny standing before him, Lucas couldn’t do anything but voice the only thought remaining in his head.

“That guy is a god.”

Gretchens body was pressed indeed quite tightly against her male companions'. She even managed to not look guilty at the mentioning of citrus fruit. But this was all she could do, as in the back of her mind, Martin was utterly aware of the precarious balance of the two attachments to his front. The things shifted and drifted in ways he hoped men would find very much more intoxicating than the smell. But then there was the little matter of the distance that was closing between her and the parrot-man. And the fact that apparently her cover had been blown for a second time tonight, judging by the tensing of the body next to her and his chocked words in her ears. The close contact held nothing erotic to him. It was a way of monitoring. Of exerting control in more than just a violent way. Minds tended to slip when beautiful women pressed closely against you and your testosterone was out of control. A thing Martin found most qualifying for becoming one himself for a night. And this now paid off.

The bass beat on indiscriminately.

Quite unlike her male companion. Not bothering to making her voice the alluring alto any more – and therefore with more than a hint of tenor coming out – Martin spoke to his companion while twisting his body around him. Parrot was so close and he really just needed to... well. “Just behave, puppy.” She pulled him a few more steps, not caring whether his grip hurt. In all probability it did. Teeth removed one of the lace gloves and dropped it to the floor indiscriminately. The skin coming out underneath was the perfect white of things that never saw the sun. It looked sickly.

The Bass beat on. It was time now.

People were all around them, bodies pressing into each other, laughing, looking ecstatically as hidden powers developed thanks to a strange drug. There was a clear zone around the Parrot mutant, made for his bodyguards sake as much for his own, but it was there. And the pair of near-lovers was close enough, if only a few people could be stepped out of the way. And stepped they would be. Martins eyes were cold now. His insides were cold. He was who he was. He killed. And he was good at it. Because he had edges few knew about. Several were based in his mutant nature, but this one was especially useful as it did not demand the same prices as the others did. His eyes flickered shortly on his exposed flesh. There was a pain there. In using it. Prices. Cutting your own flesh. Yet, now it was the time.

His grip on Lucas changed. He was holding one of his arms behind his body now in a strong grip. Only a little more pressure and the arm would spring out of its socket at the shoulder. The pale hand was reaching down into his skirts now, uncovering one of the weapons hidden within. A metal knife in midnights color, its coating being of the non-reflective kind. A thing used for killings in the night. The first weapon of three hidden in the dress in total. Weapon one, ready. Now: Getting the people out of the way. Talking about the edges: Martin could take his time. He could think as fast as lightning struck if need be, his mind outracing his body by a long stretch. This made quite a few things possible. Dodging bullets, however imperfectly, was among them. The whole thing from removing the glove to getting out the knife had not taken thirty seconds. The next things happened with a fluidity that hid the minutes of planning that had gone before each step inside.

One: Throwing the first knife at the bars contents, making several bottles break on the floor around Parrot. People started milling away from the broken glass immediately, making room for the thing that came next. Martin pushed Lucas free of him and into said room, adding a touch that would hopefully send him to the floor. Another knife was in his hands. This one was then flicked at Parrot. And then the third cut off his voluptuous skirts into a Mini-skirt barely covering his upper thighs. He was wearing combat boots underneath. His legs were waxed to perfection. And the knife was still sailing through the air, aimed for the heard of a bird-man as the lace fell and Martin exposed himself as part of what he was. Not Gretchen the girl. A stone-cold killer. No pun intended. He had a mark on his target.

The bass went on. Undisturbed.

Gold and liquor, huh? And liquor that had gold in it. “Sounds like a unique drink,“ she replied, “Wonder if I can get myself a taste…?” But she said her second statement quietly, probably too quietly for Aurum to hear. She grinned devilishly anyway.

He was quick to get away from Bianchi and his colorful, cutthroat crew, and pulled Lyd away. Whatever he’d said to the mob boss must’ve been bad though, because the man looked absolutely pissed off, more so than he had seemed originally. Apparently Aurum did not notice the bristling mutant ordering his posse to go after them, a beam of energy slicing through the air near the duo.

“Um…Aurum? What did you tell that guy? Because I think his buddies are attacking us,” Lydia said, looking back at the three men. One was shooting beams out of his…oh God. Ew, and another was spewing out something that looked like multicolored goo.

She quickened her pace, tugging Aurum away from the alcohol table and towards the packed dance floor. “I think we can lose them in the crowd.” Hopefully they could. She did not want to have to fight those three mutants. Because she would lose. And unless Aurum turned out to have some crazy mutant power or unbelievable martial arts skills, he probably wouldn’t win either.

----------

“That guy just walked away without being dismissed. Boys, bring him and his pretty lady back for me, will ya? I need to teach him his place,” the mob boss growled. The three bodyguards immediately did as they were told and stalked after the quickly moving pair.

Bianchi, preoccupied with the snubbing he’d received and the sudden smashing of bottles, did not notice the blade flying towards him until it was too late. He staggered backwards with a cry, the knife landing straight in his heart, and collapsed. His demise was only heard by Lava Lamp, whose calls to Light Show and Disco Ball Steve were drowned out by the thumping bass.

The other two were still intent on obeying their orders to grab the man in the leather jacket, and they followed him onto the dance floor, energy beams and sharp disco ball shards ready to dish some damage. Bianchi hadn’t said to bring him back unmarked.

>>“Wonder if I can get myself a taste…?”

He did not hear any potential innuendos. Lucky for her.

His mind was focused on escapes. On getting away from the parrot man. Getting to drinks. Also, lucky for her. And lucky for them, because the parrot was pissed. Lucky for them, that beam missed. He didn't notice it. Hardly noticed most of the stuff going on that night.

Not so luckily, not noticing things did not mean they were not still there. One could cover their eyes all they liked. They would not be invisible, and the world would not go away once they couldn't see a thing.

Lydia quickly made him aware their luck had run out. Ahead of them, bottles shattered. What a waste.

She pulled him away from the table. He went willingly.

>>“I think we can lose them in the crowd.” She said.

"The next time I see Megan, I'm killing her..." Aurum muttered, so low nobody was likely to hear it under the bass.

They hit the dance floor and started blending, fending their way through the writhing limbs and flailing bodies. Aurum turned to look at Lydia. "How are we going to get out of this? Those guys are mutants." He didn't have a power. This was worse than when some guys had shot at him and Riley. At least then, he'd been able to flee to the cops.

>> "How are we going to get out of this? Those guys are mutants."

Lydia resisted pointing out how obvious and unnecessary Aurum’s statement was, instead trying to focus on how to escape their pursuers. “Just act like we’ve been on the floor the whole time. They won’t be able to pick out a pair of dancers on a floor full of dancers,” she shouted over all of the chatter and music. To demonstrate her idea, she pulled her arm out of Aurum’s grasp and instead laid a hand on his chest. It was a fluid, unforced motion, as was the swaying of her hips in time to the beat blasting out of the speakers.

She leaned in closer to her companion, standing onto her very tippy-toes to get closer to his ear. “Just dance and pray they don’t find us,” Lydia said quietly, so as to avoid attracting any unwanted attention.

“And maybe scope out an exit? Just in case.” It would be even better if Aurum had a ride, if it came to that.

Being so close to Aurum allowed the girl to study his features a little better, despite the alcohol-induced fuzziness in her brain and dim lighting. He was attractive, that much she already knew, but he was really attractive up close. Megan, I think I may have to actually thank you for this, wherever in this place you may be, picking up younger men and women.