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Gina’s head was reeling as plans were made for them to go home—not for an after-party, mind you. Just home. Gina anchored herself to one of her nearby friends, with the hope of stopping the world from reeling around her. Becca and Nessa exchanged some terse words—maybe Nessa was sad that the party was ending, too. Oh, well. Gina joined Agnes in drinking water.

Now that they were outside, the sweat was cooling on the gargoyle’s skin and a faint wind whipped around them, chilling Gina to the bone. It’d be good to go home, change clothes, and bundle up in a blanket. The car rolled to the curb—the Uber—and Nessa stepped towards the car. It’d be a process for the gargoyle to clamber in, so she let the brunette go ahead.

Agnes kissed the gargoyle upon her freckled cheek, bidding her a goodnight.

>> ”Please be careful, hon. Remember, don’t drink anymore and don’t sleep on your back. Just in case. Goes for both of you. Happy birthday.”

Gina wrapped her sister in a hug, offering a pointed, “I can’t sleep on my back anyways, silly goose.”

Wings, remember?

Gina hugged Becca as well, giving her a faint squeeze, before telling both of her sisters, “Let’s not be strangers anymore, okay? We should get together more often.”

That being said, Gina wedged herself into the car, tucking her wings underneath her. She pulled the door shut, making sure her wings were completely inside. After verifying the address with the driver, Gina waved to her sisters chipperly. She waved until they left the curb, rolling into the darkness.

“What a night,” the gargoyle breathed, unfastening her bun.

Gina had no intention of buying the Wildflower Honey Punch, she was simply curious about it. When said drinks began to arrive, the gargoyle ogled them curiously, disappointed to see that there were no flowers present. The drinks were pretty nonetheless.

>> ”So, everybody got a break. Whataya say, girls? Round two for dancing?”

Gina was finishing-up the follow-up drink to the Long Island Iced Tea when Nessa proposed returning to the dance floor, to which the gargoyle gave an urgent, whispered response, "I'm not finished!"

This was, of course, too quiet to hear. She finished the drink with a hasty sip, just in-time to get roped in by Agnes. A kiss was planted on the crown of Gina's head, and the gargoyle laughed in surprise, wobbling to keep her balance.

"Careful! You'll poke your eye out," Gina cautioned, surveying her sister. Gina felt hot as her body worked diligently away at trying to process the alcohol.

>> ”Come on, darling, let’s show them how to really dance.”

Gina hopped off of her chair eagerly, following her sister's lead, and the world wobbled. The alcohol had gone to her head, but she kept her footing just fine. She just had to not... lunge forward like that again. Gina teetered after Agnes, pumping the air with her free hand.

If Gina had been loose before, she was even more carefree now. She was at the comfortably hapless level of drunk, the fun level, and she was enjoying herself now-- especially considering that she didn't need to worry over River being all by herself now.

The gargoyle eased back into the music seamlessly, this time keeping her eyes open. She danced with Agnes for a while, with Becca, with Nessa. Hell, she'd dance with the whole club if someone let her. For now, she stayed with the group, though.

"I'm really glad you stayed," Gina confided in her sister as they danced, smiling at Agnes. Sometimes when peoples' significant others were feeling ill, they'd both go home, give a little TLC. The gargoyle was glad to have Agnes to herself for a little bit, though.

>> "Oh, you know what I meant!"

The gargoyle's tail curled and flicked coyly at the blonde's rebuttal, a smirk on her plump lips. Her friends always seemed shocked to learn that the gargoyle "swung for both teams" as it was euphemistically put. How could she not? There were beautiful ladies and handsome men in this big wide world, and they needed romancing! The gargoyle was given to occasionally, brazenly flirting with anyone who'd let her, and Serena seemed to have opened the door just a crack

>> "It just always seemed to work for me to be honest. Science and Literature, possibly the only subjects I've ever had an affinity for."

The gargoyle nodded attentively. Liberal arts and physical science. Both ends of the spectrum. Usually people had an affinity for one or the other, and yet Serena held an interest in both.

"How interesting," Gina commented sincerely.

>> "Ooooh, what's that like? I've got a few friends on product design courses, but nobody in Fashion."

"It's... challenging," the gargoyle replied, after momentarily reflecting on what a good word-choice might be, "I love every minute of it, of course, but there are a lot of aesthetic things going-on, lots of minutae, that I never even thought about. And the professors are very honest in their critiques."

Of course, they gave praise where it was due, but as with any artistic field, you needed to be able to take constructive criticism in-stride. It was the only way you could grow. Thankfully, Gina wasn't a proud or boastful student, so she tended to get along with her professors. (Especially given her skill-- she was a good, talented student, and her teachers recognized that.)

Khalil watched with his lazy cat eyes as other members made their appearance. He couldn't remember the newest boy's name, but Khalil did know he was ex-SUPER. Had this grunge thing going with his appearance, of which the demon was uncertain whether the style was intentional, or if he was actually just a slob. He chirped something about Hel's sidechicks, and Khalil stifled a chuckle. It'd be interesting to see if the new guy could provoke the she-bear into aciton.

Then, the door to the club opened, in the distance-- the click of heels resounded. That meant it was either Zed or Stephanie. The demon perked noticeably. It was Stephanie! And damn, she looked... absolutely stunning. Probably the boss man's work. But daaaaaaamn. Regardless, Khalil was deeply appreciative. He appraised the older woman with his eyes. The thirst was apparent, but lest he want to incur Poseidon's wrath, he didn't act on it. Stephanie greeted each member present thus far. To Khalil's chagrin, she didn't use Gluttony's real name. Guess he had to wait a little longer to see.

>> ”Khalil.”

"Ms. Grey," Khalil sighed. Good, she hadn't used his ridiculous code-name. It was impossible to not hear Stephanie say his name and swoon just a little bit. She was radiant. Khalil followed her with his eyes, his gaze lingering a few moments before meandering away once again.

The door opened and shut a final time, and this time Zed came-in. The short-haired woman spied the demon boy and closed-in on him.

>> “Got a light?”

"Darling, you know I do," Khalil purred, procuring a flame above his index finger and tilting it towards Zed. His cat eyes danced over her. He wanted to make some offhanded comment about the ill effects of smoking, but Zed (like a majority of the Ragnarok women) didn't take kindly to Khalil's humor.

Poseidon spared Khalil the pain of having to keep his humor to himself by summoning the group to the table. He progressed quickly through the formalities, during which Khalil made his way to the table. He chose a place at the far end of the table, on the corner diagonally across from Hel and beside Stephanie. He liked to needle her during meetings, sometimes, and luck favored being as far as possible from her. Of course, the location made it more difficult to steal glances at Stephanie, but that was all part of the strategy.

Hel gave a small "ahem", signifying that she would go first, and Khalil watched her through his lashes, donning a droll look. She'd did what she'd been told, helped Zed... and, for added snark, she even made a quip about her "personal life". Khalil quirked a wry smirk, unable to stop the rebuttal that escaped him.

"The endeavors you pursue in your personal life are indeed a mystery to us all, Hel," he said, his tone simultaneously droll and amused. Her personal life was a mystery indeed-- it wasn't as though she'd brought a piece of her personal life in on each arm, to a business meeting no less! And what sexy piecess of Hel's personal life they'd been, too. It was a pity Poseidon had made them leave. Khalil cast a winsome smirk Hel's way which, knowing Hel, would not be well-recieved. Just as he liked it.

"Poseidon, sir, I can report success in my assignments as well," Khalil said brightly, looking towards the boss-man, "I have taken care of the syndicates that previously threatened our own business ventures-- finding their livelihoods in flames, our rivals have chosen different, less incendiary fields of business. My handiwork can be seen on various news-bytes from across the previous month."

Up until she’d moved to the Co-Op, Gina had been fortuitous in her roommate experience. Agnes was practically her sister, and they hadn’t once struggled with the tiffs that seemed so commonplace when cohabitating with others. It had been so easy.

If rooming with Agnes at Xavier’s had shown her the pretty side of rooming situations, the Co-Op had given her a more, shall we say, all-encompassing perspective? When the gargoyle had seen the listing online, it had sounded like the perfect living situation for a person like Gina. Group dinners on Sunday’s, game nights, sixteen people living together like one big, happy family.

And at first, it was great! Make no mistake about that. Her roommates were older but super cool, they encouraged her creative endeavors and didn’t look-down on her. But then, old roommates left, and new roommates came.

Jayden was nice enough, but she had this churlish punk thing going. For the most part, Gina was able to jive with her pretty well. They weren’t close, but they weren’t at-odds either.

Then, Astrid moved-in… she looked like she was twelve and acted about the same age. Despite the gargoyle’s routine efforts, they didn’t seem to mesh well. And if one said Gina and Astrid didn’t mesh well, Jayden and Astrid were the perfect storm.

Jude was the newest one… she still hadn’t figured him out. She did know that he and Astrid would speak French to each-other, which already sort-of alienated them from one another.

Sufficed to say, the fourth floor was pretty tense. Though the exuberant gargoyle never stopped trying to make nice with all of her roomies, sometimes she needed a break from them.

It was thus that she found herself lounging in the cellar of the building. Even such a person has Gina needed to recharge her batteries. Perhaps she’d even have the fine fortune of seeing one of the residents from the other floors? For the time being, however, Gina was sprawled on her stomach on one of the couches at the far end of the room. Her sketchbook was open before her, and her pencil made quick, light scratches upon the page. She was working on a sketch for her most recent commission, the schematics of a tuxedo for a winged man who was getting married.

There was added layer of difficulty when it came to formal-wear. You had to maintain the crisp lines and specific fit, but accommodate the curve-balls that mutations threw your way. Gina nibbled the end of her pencil, scrutinizing the sketch. Ever since Rebecca had given her some publicity, more commission requests had been filtering-in. Which was deeply appreciated, of course—it kept her busy, and was giving the broke college kid more pocket-money—but in some ways the explosion in popularity was something to get accustomed to.

Gina followed Agnes with her eyes, an uncertain twitch taking-over her tail. Her gaze cut towards Nessa when she noticed that she was moving. Okay, good. Nessa was probably the best person to talk to Becca anyways. Being girlfriends and all. Gina began to cut to the side of the dance-floor, watching from a polite distance as they spoke.

The conversation was brief, sealed with a kiss on the cheek, before following the same route that River and Agnes had gone. Her wings fluttered and then settled, sinking slightly. The dancing had barely gotten started! Where were they going. Uncertain tawny eyes cut towards the wall, wondering if they had actually been dancing for longer, if her and Nessa had been so lost in their own little world that an hour or more had transpired.

No... it had only been twenty, maybe thirty minutes maybe. Nessa did not follow her girlfriend down the stairs, rather returning to Gina. She looked somber, but quickly donned a smile for the gargoyle and extended a bent arm for the gargoyle to take.

>> ”Rebecca will handle… whatever that was. This is still your birthday, so I forbid you from worrying. We shall drink our worries away!”

Gina tucked a hand in the crook of Nessa's arm, as she had often done with her mother, and with a number of female friends as they'd walked together. Gina gave Nessa a conciliatory smile, but the stitch had returned to her brow. Her tawny gaze was met by Nessa's umber glance. Gina couldn't shake the feeling that something was up, and the inkling of suspicion churned ever-so-subtly in the back of her mind. There was tomfoolery afoot. She wasn't sure of the cause, but she was sure of its presence. She'd have to check-on Agnes later.

"I'd like that very much," the gargoyle said with a sigh. Her smile lingered upon her lips as she allowed Nessa to lead the two of them to the bar.

She released Nessa's arm when they reached the bar, clearing her throat. Maybe she should try something different from a fruity shot? But the gargoyle also wasn't entirely sure of what else there was.

"What do you usually prefer?" the gargoyle inquired, "To drink, I mean?"

Though Becca had bought the first round of drinks, Gina certainly wouldn't mind spotting for a round. She set her clutch up on the bar, smiling winsomely at Nessa. She was already teasing the flap of the clutch, getting ready to reach for her wallet.

Gina was in her own, comfortable headspace-- eyes closed, at the mercy of the beat that pulsed through her, a smirk upon her plump lips. She let Agnes go. She twisted and swayed and moved her hips. One hand lingered on her hip, the other was floating free, occasionally pumping skyward, or moving rhythmically. Gina could dance for hours if someone let her.

>> ”I owe the birthday girl a dance. You said you’d share, Becca,”

That's you, Gina, the gargoyle realized, her doe-brown eyes opening inquiringly. Nessa was in her field of vision, now. Gina's neutral, soft smile cracked into a grin. The newest addition to her group of friends. While her energy was infectious, in a way dancing calmed her. It was a mindless task, a form of meditation-- on one hand, no thoughts crossed her mind, but on the other hand there was just a wash of calm in her mind.

"Hello," the gargoyle greeted warmly, letting her eyes slide shut. She delved back into the tranquil headspace. She meant no offense by it, she was just really feeling the music at the moment.

"Hey," Nessa greeted back casually. It was different, dancing with Agnes (an old friend and practically sister) than it was dancing with Nessa (a new friend and essential stranger). Gina didn't want to cross any boundaries with her-- no grabbing hands, no pecks on the cheek. Just dancing. Her knees bumped Nessa, by mistake-- oops. She hadn't noticed the brunette had drawn that close. Gina's brown eyes slid open again, turning up towards the new friend before her. She cracked an apologetic smile. Not only had she bumped into her, but by staying in her own headspace, Gina was also (kind-of) ignoring her.

"My bad," Gina said softly, "I get so lost in my head when I'm dancing." Even now, she sounded a bit lost. Airy, even. Her dancing had slowed but not stopped. A grin. She felt like an idiot for getting so self-absorbed. She was here to have fun with friends-- not get washed away by the experience of dancing. The gargoyle broke out of her idle, sultry dancing and extended a hand to the young woman before her.

Should she accept, the gargoyle would lead Nessa through an asynchronous spin and dance that was nostalgic of swing, but not quite. It was a silly, sweeping dance with twirls for both parties, held hands, and one beaming gargoyle. She couldn't help but giggle a little. Sure, she could sway her hips as sexily as the next girl, but the carefree dance shared by friends was its own release. Spinning, twirling, letting loose. Breathing.