Lets Dance {open}

[Wulfgar Fenrisulfr]

Who's gonna fight for what's right?
Who's gonna help us survive?
We're in the fight of our lives
And we're not ready to die
Who's gonna fight for the weak?
Who's gonna make 'em believe?

No one could say that Screamers wasn't a happening place on Saturday nights. In fact, most of the time it could be said that a little TOO much action could be found. It was a dangerous crowd that ran the popular club and only a fool would enter it with intent on causing trouble. Humans and supernaturals alike could find themselves in the middle of a fierce battle if they weren't careful and only the truly insane wanted to piss off the Fenrisulfr boys or their loyal vanguard.

Which made the idiots currently prowling towards the front bar all the more obvious in a crowd full of fun loving party goers. Wulf had spotted them the moment they'd started trickling into the bar one by one and meeting up in two select little groups. A evil smile had spread across his stern features and he'd immediately given Tyreese the age old signal they'd developed for trouble.

Pushing away from the counter, the huge blond warrior had tossed back his whiskey, cracked his knuckles and headed across the floor to give his "guests" a welcoming party like they'd never seen before. Just what he was in the mood for. A few of these boys looked as if they might actually be a challenge instead of the normal cowardly fair that had come sulking in lately.

Sensing something big going down, the crowd immediately scattered around him as he stepped up to the biggest, baddest one fo the group. Crossing his arms, he stared directly at the man before drawling.

"Well, well.. What have we here? Someone forget to to you boys that its not jester night? Because I know you didn't just walk into my club packing heat and looking for trouble. No one does that and walks away."

Hissing, the big guy loomed forward and glared at him.

"We came for you, Celt. Seems you pissed off someone and theres a big bounty on your head. Me and my friends... We thought we'd collect on it. You can't take us all."

Arching a brow, Wulf let a sinister smirk creep over his face.

"Now, that we might just have a difference of opinion on but... I'll let you keep your little fantasy. You evidently are as dumb as you are butt ass ugly." he retorted, letting those words sink in before continuing. "Turns out, I'm not really in the mood to be turning over my head for your convenience and you aren't the first jackass to try... and you certainly won't be the last... "

Growling with fury, his opponent flashed a wicked set of fangs and Wulf shifted his weight for the coming attack. As the were launched himself at him, the former warlord moved so fast that he became a blur. With brutal force, he caught his attacker by the throat and body slammed him to the floor. The wood creaked under the force of the blow but Wulf didn't have time to survey the damage. With a sharp snap of the creatures head, he disabled him and then felt another coming at his back.

Kicking out hard, he felt the impact of his boot against flesh and the crunch of bone as it broke ribs. All around him, howls and snarls rose up and he wondered vaguely just how many enemies had been stupid enough to step into his turf and expect to walk out alive. Oh yeah, no one could ever say Screamers wasn't a happening place on Saturday nights.

[ross]

One moment the end of the bar had been nothing but an empty plank of shiny wood the next there was a perky little blonde with whimsy styled hair and festive clothes sitting on it, legs crossed and hands to her sides as she watched the scene that unfolded. Her long legs were showed off in the snug little hot pink mini dress she wore and the pendant of a handmirror hung on the long cold chain around her neck, falling to the middle of her chest. Ross was never one to dress conservatively.

Her high heeled hot pink shoe moved in a slow little circle over and over as she watched the big, blonde shifter go after the big man in the group of rabble rousers and whistled an encouragement. "Oooh this is almost as fun as those gladiator fights used to be." she said to no one in particular as she clapped her hands together and leaned forward a bit. Glancing over her shoulder to the barkeep she said, "I don't suppose you have nectar. Oh well...I suppose one of those margarita things would be good just don't be stingy with the tequila."

And with that her attention was riveted back to the fight and she whistled and wooted a bit, her arm raised and fist pumped making her gold bangle bracelets jangle as she cheered on her gladiator...er...fighter. Her head turned to the side slightly as Wulfgar slammed the man to the ground, checking out his butt out of habit and grinned, whistling lowly. Now if only they were doing this in those delightful leather undies like they used to it'd be perfect.

Without even looking back her hand was back as the bartender approached with the drink. "Thank you sweetcheeks. Run me a tab will ya?"

[Wulfgar Fenrisulfr]

Don't give us none of your aggravation
We've had it with your discipline
Saturday night's alright for fighting
Get a little action in



OH YEAH. This was what living was all about. There was nothing like a good fight to get your blood going and your adrenaline soaring. Wulf was laughing with glee even as a fist hit his mouth and he rebounded with a hard right hook that broke his opponents front teeth out. What was a little pain when the chance to release some steam presented itself? It wasn't often these days that he actually got a chance for some hand to hand combat because most of the fools ran away screaming with only a look.

"They just don't make enemies like they used to", he thought with a sigh as he ducked a wicked looking blade and grabbed the arm holding it in time to jerk it around and hear it snap like a chicken bone.

Now days, his foes preferred to fight with pencil pushers and internet messages. Even the otherworld species had taken to human technology and it was damned unnerving. Luckily, Kaera seemed to enjoy that sort of battle so he mostly left her to it. It gave her something to do and a way to feel useful.

Taking another blow to his mid section, Wulf stumbled backwards and came up with his back against Tyreese's. His brother at arms roar made him catch the blow that almost landed in his face and grin.

"Whoa, brother.....Don't ruin my pretty face.. I might have need of it later...." he drawled before spinning to knock another opponent down. "Didn't I hear you say you were bored earlier? Looks like you got that excitement you ordered..."

Then, suddenly feeling eyes upon him, Wulf cast a glance back over his shoulder and caught sight of a gorgeous blond who had obviously been ogling his backside. Arching a brow and giving her a wicked smirk, he let his own gaze travel over her and knew immediately she wasn't human and she wasn't a shifter. That intrigued him and caused him almost to get impaled on a short sword one of the men swung at him. Luckily for him, Ty saw it and save him the hassle of healing from such a wound.

"SON OF A BITCH!" the wolf snarled before leaping forward and ripping the creatures head right off its shoulders. "Can't a man enjoy the sight of a pretty woman without idiots like you ruining the mood?"

[ross]

Wincing as she saw the huge bald man almost tag the blonde's face Ross brought the drink to her lips, licking the salt on the rim just as those eyes turned to her. Lifting her own hazel eyes to meet them she caught that wicked smirk and grinned unrepentantly winking to him as she sipped.

But her eyes widened a little as she saw the sword coming towards him and raised a finger to point toward the opponent coming at him. But once more the big shiny headed man was there. Hmmm...must be a comrade. These mortals were so interesting with the way they had such a loyalty for one another. Most of your Olympians weren't so loyal or devoted. At least outside of her girlfriends. Even then loyalty was a subjective thing. Just ask Heph, she thought with a small giggle.

Lips puckered she let out a whistle of encouragement to the blonde man as she saw him rip the head off and utter those words, tossing back her head to laugh a bit. Fights weren't usually her thing but the way the two men out there fighting back to back were enjoying it, well...it made the activity fall smack into her area of expertise. Mirth. Festivity. Generally...a damn good time. Oh yes, very much her arena.

She closed her eyes, inhaling with a smile as she felt the joy of the fight radiating off the two, absorbing into her pores and giving her a little rush. The Grace just couldn't resist herself as she opened her eyes, those hazel orbs looking just a bit brighter, a bit greener as she lazily flicked the fingers of her empty hand toward a little knot of the 'bad guys'.

Back in the day the Keystone Cops were the high humor of the time, sending people into gales of laughter and merriment. An oldie, and a goodie, she watched as the little knot suddenly got a little clumsier, a little slower and uncoordinated. They bumped into each other, one tripped, the other fell over top the one on the floor, the third nearly falling as he helped the second up. The attackers looked a little confused, bewildered at their sudden fumbling. It was enough to make the little blonde Grace throw back her head and laugh heartily causing those at the bar near her to laugh as well without meaning to. She blushed a little and covered her mouth with fingertips briefly as she giggled, not really sorry for it but knowing she had to be careful.

With a happy little sigh she watched as the two men continued to fight, twirling her little pendant with her free hand as she drank her margarita. Oh the wonderful sight of all those muscles straining and working and in motion. So delicious. Men were truly wonderfully made creatures. So appealing. Some more than others of course and these two specimens were magnificent!

[Tyreese Gla'dour]

Sitting at the end of the bar, Ty had been having a very nice time impersonating a gargoyle. He’d just finished a particularly nasty time playing Enforcer for the Council with a crazy ass shifter who thought he was Superman, and it was an understatement to say that he was ‘unhappy.’ The moron had ACTUALLY thought that, because his other face was some kind of bird of prey, that he could steal from humans, like some kind of psychotic, winged purse-thief.

Really now. Could NONE of these morons come up with something original, already. Or, at least, earth shattering? Bitch slapping an idiotic eagle-shifter around for a couple hours only served to make a guy want to break a wall down. Damn Council rules…why couldn’t they kill the ones that really needed killing again?

Politics. He frikken HATED politics.
Wulf owed him big time for this one.

Holding his icy glass to his bruised cheek, the skinwalker sighed into the quiet atmosphere. Footfalls trailed across the room and he absently watched his boss and brother in arms make his way towards the bar. The shifter had the good sense to know when his old friend needed a few minutes to himself and ordered himself a drink. The atmosphere in Screamers was a balm to his mind, the familiar sounds of knuckles on flesh reminding him that he was always welcome to break a few faces inside the ring. Leaning an elbow on the counter, he closed his eyes, basked in the coolness of the glass against his cheek…

And then muttered a curse under his breath when Wulf’s voice cut through his thoughts. What the hell now? Was it really such a bad thing, if he tried to have an R&R moment?

…Oh great, now he was whining to himself. Awesome. He sounded like a ten year old…and just like that, his patience snapped.
Thank the Gods for suicidal assassins with fangs. It was party time.

In one smooth motion, Ty was out of his stool and ripping through the bastards trying to gut his brother. His battle cry ripped through the room, startling the attackers in front of him for a minute, and a savage smile curled his lips.

He eyed Wulf as the shifter caught his swinging fist. Jerking his hand away, he swung up an arm to block a swing at his own head, knocking out a fanged warrior with his own elbow. “Of course the ‘excitement’ involves another attempt on your life. What did you do now, Viking? Piss in somebody’s Cheerios? I thought you were fuckin’ housetrained already.” He grunted as a fist met his side, and he retaliated with a roundhouse kick, sending the fang-boy flying across the room. “Gotta talk to Kaera ‘bout that later…”

Trailing off, he proceeded to ignore everything but the feeling of his knuckles hitting brother flesh. The crack of bone, the screams of agony, the sounds of bodies hitting the floors, the walls, the ceiling…

Oh yeah, he needed this. Come on, come on, keep coming!

A flicker of light caused his attention to jerk to the side, and he caught the telltale flash of a sword cutting through the air. With a snarl, he leapt forward, intercepting the little knight before he could cut down his friend. He grimaced as the blade cut through his hand, and ignored the pain as he wrenched the thick metal to the side, breaking the pointy part off of the hilt. The poor swordsman could do nothing but gape in shock as the point of his now broken sword was plunged into his chest.

As Wulf ripped the dying man’s head off, Ty managed a smirk in his direction, lip curling half in disgust, and half in amusement. “I doubt this is the time to drool over the little chit, brother, He said with a dark little laugh. After taking out yet another would-be attacker, dark eyes flickered to the side, traveling over the reclining form of the chirpy female. “Not your usual flavor, but she’s good enough, I suppose. But I’d get my mind back in the game, if I were you. Getting your ass kicked won’t be helping your image. Brother.”

With another laugh, he launched himself at the remaining fighters with a gleeful abandon. Another battle roar tore through the room and Ty let himself loose, tearing limbs from bodies, twisting necks, breaking bones. Ah, the dance of death…nothing was better.

Well…almost nothing. As if summoned, the image of a particular café owner flashed through his mind, making him pause. War, or beauty…what a decision.

[Wulfgar Fenrisulfr]

There were times when Wulf really wondered if he should worry about his friends sanity.... but... Nah.. It wasn't as if he was any better when it came to the blood lust. He just didn't get the chance to indulge in it very much these days. Much to his ultimate disgust.

When one had to go around as the freaking figurehead for good behavior, it wouldn't do to be seen savaging the natives.Without good reason, that was. Strolling through HIS club doors and looking for death WAS a good reason though. Wulf wasn't above taking full advantage of the opportunity to get his fill of bone snapping, blood splattering punches and savage, head ripping death. Oh, wasn't it a little taste of the good ol' days when you were allowed to slice and dice your enemies back to their makers without anyone raising a stink. Civilization really SUCKED at times.

Catching the tale end of his friends words, Wulf snarled at him before catching another opponent in mid launch. The gun he'd been fixing on Tyreese was snatched from his hand as the shifter spun him about and snarled right into his face.

"Now what kind of pussy footed piece of crap comes to a fight with a semi automatic weapon that won't do anything but piss us off?" he snarled before crumpling the metal in on hand and using it to god smack the creature back into the beyond without a face.

The spray of blood didn't even phase Wulf as he let the body fall and then smiled evilly at one of the only remaining wanna be assassins standing. The man visibly swallowed and then took off in a streak of movement towards the door. Sneering, the Celt watched him go and then looked over at the woman once more. She was still sitting there watching as he wiped the blood off his face with a sleeve.

"Well hell... There goes any attempt to impress the female." he thought with some disgust. "Not likely she's going to want to get down and dirty with a dude covered in blood and reeking with the stench of these bastards."

Then, shrugging, he watched Ty dispatched the last remaining foe and sighed. They just didn't make enemies like they used to. He missed the days of battle hardened warlords the actual CHALLENGE they presented. Clapping his brother on the shoulder, the shifter turned towards the bar and drawled.

"You know brother... You should probably have left that one alive. We could have questioned him about who sent him...." Giving the now decaying pieces on the floor a pointed look, Wulf continued. " However since there's nothing left of them.. Lets have a drink. I think we both deserve one."

Besides that, he wanted a closer look at the little female at the bar. What better way than to kill two birds with one stone? Turning with his usual predatory lope, the huge blond warlord strode to the bar and caught the wet towel his bartender shot in his direction. Taking the hint, he cleaned himself up and then smirked at the blond.

[ross]

Eyebrow arched at the words of the bald brawler, Ross hmphed lightly as she heard the 'good enough'. "I swear...unless you're wielding firebolts or a big metal axe in a leather teddy you get no respect." she said to herself under her breath frowning a little and rolling her eyes.
Sure...everyone remembered the Gods and Godesses with their big honkin temples and even The Fates got remembered. Heck, even that disgusting, slobbering three headed dog got remembered. But the three that brought happiness and merriment to the world? Noooo.

She sighed and sipped her frou frou girly drink as she watched the men finish off the fight, thoroughly enjoying the view of bulging, sweaty muscles and those delightful male grunts of physical effort. It made a little chill run up her spine as she lazily circled her foot at the ankle, still sitting on the bar top and flicking her hair back out of her eyes with a grin. She'd show him good enough.

Her nose wrinkled at the sight of the gun. So unsporting. She regretted letting man discover the joys of gun powder. It had been a good idea at the time, the fireworks and the pretty lights it made in the night sky, like controlling the stars. It was used in celebration and festivity originally. But then they had to go and get enterprising and use it for weapons instead. She had her suspicions that Ares had something to do with that. Or that pesky, uptight Athena. Such party poopers. At least Ares enjoyed a good party after a battle. Kinda like those crazy Asgardians. Oh they were a fun lot!

She raised her eyebrows and her glass in salute when those lovely blue eyes turned her way. The blood didn't really bother her. As long as it didn't stain her clothes or get into her hair that is. It was kinda sexy on a man after battle. Especially when they had that charged look in their eyes. It was one of the reasons she could understand Ditie's little 'indiscretion' with Ares. It was hard to resist a strong man.

A little wink and a smile was tossed to Wulf after he wiped the blood on his sleeve and she chuckled lightly. She'd seen much bloodier battles in the arena. Ah now those were festive times. Those Romans knew how to party! Alcohol, sex, music, dancing, adrenaline. Everything intoxicating in life.

She watched him unabashed as he strode over towards the bar with the big bald one in tow, sizing them both up. Yes, both were pretty yum worthy but there was something about the blonde that held her attention. Maybe it was that sexy little smirk of his or the glimmer in his eyes.

As they approached she waited till he wiped his face off a bit and reached forward, plucking the towel from him, careful not to get any of the gunk on her mind you, and lightly trailed it over his temple and down to his strong jaw. "Missed a spot." she said with a grin as she handed the towel back and leaned back on one hand on the bar as she looked up at Wulf.

"Helluva show there. You boys look like you could use a drink." she said with a playful little lilt in her tone as she took a sip of her margarita, licking a droplet of it off her lips at the end as she pulled the glass from her smiling lips. "I'm Ross. What can I call you.... other than Mr. Hot Buns that is?"

What was she supposed to be doing in here? Mission? What was that? Oh yes, the Grace was distracted yet again.

[Tyreese Gla'dour]

The look thrown Wulf’s way was meant to let the shifter know that he knew the real reason why the bar was their next stop. Letting himself be propelled toward the other side of the room, the skinwalker merely shrugged and slid onto a barstool.

Without a word having to be said, the bartender was sliding some of his favorite bourbon in front of him- no sissy shot glass, just the damn bottle. Turning slightly, he looked at the sizzling remains of the ‘immortals’ that scorched the floor behind him and shrugged nonchalantly.

“They didn’t deserve to live, either way,” He replied in a just-as-nonchalant voice. “And anyway, guys that stupid were probably hired. If we’d ‘ve asked ‘em who they were working for, they’d say ‘Deep Throat,’ for all they knew. But hell, if it makes you happy, Mr. Politician, I’ll leave one breathing for you next time.”

Knowing that the shifter wasn’t a fan of his powerful position on the Council, Ty couldn’t help but stick in the rib. There were few things that he enjoyed in this world of late, and making fun of his family was definitely something that never got old.

Well…that, and seeing his normally unaffected brother-in-arms simper at a woman. Good Gods, the urge to smack the older man upside the head was too much to resist. Could he make it seem like he was more interested? Damn, Wulf really was getting soft in his comfy Council seat, if he was losing touch with his hunting instinct.

Then again, with the looks that the chit at the bar was giving him, Ty could understand. And roll his eyes while chugging back a mouthful of the burning liquor as things went so far as to involve a towel wiping away the gore on the shifter’s cheek. Oh, how he wanted to start purring ‘awww’ before puking his godsdamn guts up.

At the ‘hot buns’ comment, he shouldn’t help but crack a tiny smile. The woman had a pair, at least; one point in her favor. And the fact that Wulf wasn’t smacking her hand away…how interesting. However, none of that stopped the instinctive distrust from bubbling over in his chest as he narrowed his eyes at the stranger.

As an Enforcer to the Council Leader, it was his job to make sure that his boss didn’t get his head hacked off by a chit with some nice…additions. As such, it was completely in his rights- at least, in his mind- to lean an elbow on the table and pin the woman with a raised brow.

“Why don’t you tell us who the hell you are?” He asked, deep voice thick with his usual sarcasm. “Oh yeah, and how the hell you managed to make those sissies trip over their own feet with a flick of that pretty finger? Street goes two ways, lady.”

[Wulfgar Fenrisulfr]

There was nothing like a little one on one combat to get the blood flowing and Wulf fairly lit up the room with the energy he was currently giving off. The adrenaline that spiked through his veins made it damned hard to keep his inner beast under control and the sight of the beautiful woman right after battle? It made the shifter regret that they were in a public place and the fact he'd probably get his ass arrested if he did half the things to her lovely body that he was currently fantasizing about. Hell, he'd be lucky if SHE didn't open a can of whoop ass for just THINKING those wicked little thoughts.

With skill born of age and wisdom, Wulf forced himself not to leap on her even as she meet his gaze and grinned. The touch of the towel froze him in his tracks and he almost gaped at her. Was she REALLY cleaning him off and managing not to run away screaming? It was, after all, blood and gore that he was sporting. Most women never got that brave and it just proved that she wasn't exactly what she seemed. It also made his curiosity rise as he leaned in closer to her and took in her scent. Not a shifter... Not a demon... Not exactly a demigod either... Oh hell, it was a Greek Grace.

Then, her words hit him. Hot Buns? She hadn't just called him that.. had she? By the gods, the shifter didn't know whether to laugh or be insulted. Did he look like one of those underwear models that liked to primp for the camera? He'd heard Kaera raving about those idiots enough that it almost gave him the hives just thinking about it.

Pulling back, Wulf studied the blond with the intensity of a predator on the hunt. All senses were glued on her as he reached for the whiskey Ty was holding and plucked it from his hand to take a drink. Ty's attention was on the woman and the suspicion in his eyes told Wulf that he knew she wasn't exactly human too.

"Easy, brother... I think we have a trouble maker in our midst..." he drawled, giving the woman another wicked smirk. "So, little grace... Which one might you be? Aglaia, Euphrosyne, or Thalia? You greeks just seem to be falling out of the sky these days... What kind of mischief are you up to in my club, céadsearc?"

Handing the whiskey back to Ty, Wulf eyed the woman and then frowned. If a grace was in the building... It surprised him that the assassins weren't' effect by her gaiety. Usually, in the presence of Splendor, Festivity or Rejoicing, the mood of the place lightened and became more.. well, hell... festive.

[ross]

Ross looked at Ty and his growling, never losing that smile from her lips but drew them together in a small O as she tsked and wagged a finger back and forth. "Manners, manners shifter...no need to get your scruff up. I'd hate to make you go through the night looking like David Spade, although...he is a pretty funny little mortal. I'm not looking to cause any trouble." She paused and looked Wulf over once more, that grin turning decidedly more amused and naughty. "Well...not in a bad way at any rate." she added the after thought.

Her laughter bubbled up as the Celt leaned in and sniffed along her neck, inhaling that tempting aroma of ambrosia and nectar that seemed to cling to her. Around her the mortals within hearing range all seemed to have their moods brighten a bit, some even laughing for no reason as they heard it.

She sipped her margarita as he called her out for what she was. Well this just wasn't good. She was supposed to keep a low profile. A little bit of a playful pout formed on her lips as he asked which she was. "Oh my if you have to ask then I must be losing my touch. I'd have thought the Keystone Cops bit back there might have clued you in but..." she said with a twinkle in her eyes, as if he'd just issued a challenge. "Ruff!" she made the little doggy sound that was all human and winked as she teased the blonde man, "Bad puppy."

She tossed her hair back a little and looked over at one particularly sad little man across the club that was just lurking. Maybe it was his comb over. Maybe it was the paunch of his belly or the thick glasses that hid his beady little eyes. Whatever it was he remained alone despite his attempts to make conversation with women and men alike. Just a lonely soul that was trying to connect with someone in his drab existence of pushing a pen all day, five days a week.

She sat down her glass and laced her fingers together, pushing them out as she delicately cracked her knuckles and took a deep breath. Her hazel eyes held a little shimmer to them as the power flowed through her when she raised a hand to her lips and kissed it, blowing it across the room to the man.

It was almost as if that ambrosia scent acted like a homing beacon as it zeroed in on the man and when it hit him his expression changed, lighting up and relaxing. It was almost as if a light bulb went off over his head. Two lovely young ladies happened to step up next to him at the bar and he turned to speak to them, all smiles and animated features. It wasn't clear what he was saying but the women laughed and turned to the man, showing him interest as they nodded and he ordered a round of drinks for the three of them.

With a satisfied little smirk she looked back to Wulf and Ty, raising her eyebrows. "That answer your questions boys? Sure Aggie and Lia are good at what they do but no one works a room like me. But ix-nay on the ame-nay capishe? Trying to keep something of a low profile here. Just call me Ross." she said pronouncing it Roz as a shortened form of her real name.

Picking up her glass and draining the last of it she licked her lips and smirked. "As for what I'm doing in the club I would think that was obvious." she said raising her tawny eyebrows to the tall blonde man. "A gal like me likes to have fun. And when I felt the glee that came from you two like a pair of teenaged girls front row at a Justin Timberlake concert it just drew me like a magnet. What can I say? I'm a sucker for a good time. It's like a drug."

She frowned just a little, the expression alien on her face and not entirely unpleasant but more confused. "Of course imagine my surprise that it was over getting to do a little smash and bash but ahhh such are the ways of males. I'll never understand it but I sure do enjoy watching it. All those big...hard muscles straining and the grunting and the manly physical effort. Whooo!" She fanned herself a little with her hand and grinned.

She pointed a finger at Ty and narrowed her eyes a little as she studied him. "Now you...you I seem to recall. You made a big stir in the arena. Quite the star till that idiot went and..well.. we don't need to bring up ugly things do we? I'm sure you'd rather forget them and well doom and gloom just isn't my area of expertise. You'll have to talk to those war gods for that one." she said before turning that gaze to Wulf. "But you...I don't remember seeing you around before. You're not a gladiator even though you fight like one. So tell me handsome....what name should I call you?"

Clearly politics was not her forte. Sure she knew there was some little council or something of the sort but that was serious stuff for the more serious Olympians. She was in the business of frivolity and laughter, of making lives, mortal and immortal alike a little brighter and easier for a short time. As such she was totally ignorant to the fact that the man she was flirting with so outrageously was the head of that council and that one utterance from his lips could set Heph and Ares' little sprog on her path.

She sighed a little picked up her glass to sip at it again. What had once been empty was full again and the bartender had never come back their way when he saw the boss 'working'. Those impishly gay hazel eyes looked at the big Celt over the rim of her glass as she took her drink, waiting for his reply.

[Brom Fenrisulfr]

I'm a bad boy, My mind is right
I look good I'm on top tonight
Gotta chip on my shoulder big as my head
I've got your girl, she's in my bedroom
Loud, crude and really rude
People say I got an attitude.
So I make it plain that I know my name
Come in at you like a hurricane.
I'm the KING OF COOL.
Its a dirty job that I gotta do but
I'm the King OF COOL.

It was with a blast of energy that a tall, muscular man stepped through the doors of Screamers and gave a wicked smirk. Surveying the place like a king on his thrown, the man had a striking presence that had more than one face turning in his direction. Decked out in leather from his head to his toes, Brom Fenrisulfr was the stuff of any womans dreams and the wolf knew it.

With lips curving up in a playful grin, the man adjusted his typical black shades over his silver eyes and nabbed a whiskey from the tray of a passing waitress. When she looked at him in askance, he gave her a slap on the ass and a whispered promise that had her laughing in delight. Ah, the delights of a beautiful female.

As she walked off to get another for her client, the huge man looked around from his brother and found him and Ty making time with a delightful looking little blond at the back bar. "Well, well, wasn't that interesting?" he thought to himself before striding towards them with an easy lope. It wasn't often that his usually cool brother actually showed interest in a woman for something other than the purely animal needs that drove all of their kind. In fact, Wulf wasn't actually known for talking to women if he could avoid it and here he was makin time with one? Would wonders never cease? Maybe big brother was actually loosening up a bit. The gods knew he needed it.

Looming up behind the two shifters, Brom grinned evilly. Slinging an arm arounds his brothers shoulders, the black sheep of the Fenrisulfr clan smirked at the woman and then clapped Wulf on the back.

"Damn.. what is it we have here? Has my big brother finally decided to decend down to the realms of we poor citizens?" he questioned by way of greeting. "Who might you be, lovely lass? Are you an angel sent down to grace my sibling with your beauty and lighten the load he so heroicly carries for the world? "

Knowing his brother like he did, Brom quickly stepped away and shooved Ty from his stool while grabbing the whiskey bottle out of his hand. Taking a quick drink, he prepared for the fist cuffs the other man would no doubt land when he came up off the floor. It was a game that they always played and no doubt would continue.

"And.. what the hell, brothers? You had a party and forgot to invite me? All that dust on the floor wasn't tracked in by bar patrons. Who's ass did you rip this time and why didn't you call me? "

[Tyreese Gla'dour]

Gods...his reputation really wasn't what it used to be, if every Tom, Dick and Shithead was stealing his godsdamn booze. Once upon a time, he'd been so feral that even Wulf himself had been wary about coming too close to him. The old shifter would make himself known, carefully sit down next to him...

But now? Does anybody give him that kind of terrified space? Of course not. Even as a bad ass Council Enforcer, he still gets his booze stolen. Who the hell did he need to disembowl to get left alone around here?

Still glaring at the 'Ross' lady, he listened to the exchange between Boss and...Greek. Wonderful; one of THOSE. While he'd technically been Roman born, he had a strong dislike for anyone born in his time period. They represented an age where treating a man as a slave was something natural; in the cards for some poor slobs without enough cash in their pockets to walk through the Royalty Door.

...Oh yeah, and they also might have known of his rep in the Arena. Thanks, lady; bringing up former slavery was definitely a way to get him to stop growling.

"Well, y'know, I'm so happy that my time as a slave has made me known in your circles," He growled, baring his teeth in a 'I'm barely hanging on to sanity' smile. Gods, even Wulf, who was probably his match in a death-fight, knew never to mention his past. Like a coil, Ty immediately tensed up, said 'nummy' muscles doing a bunch dance as he did his best not to launch himself at the Goddess. For one, he was definitely not as strong as one of those piss ass deities, even on a good day. And for another...he wasn't as hung up on the past, that he'd shit on his best friend's first attempt in over a century at getting interested in something other than his family or politics.

But ooh, the temptation was so strong. His grip around the bottle of bourbon was so tight that it was a miracle that the newly appeared Brom could pry it out. And, while the younger Fenrisulfr was annoying on a good day, and just downright stupid on a bad one...he did serve a purpose.

The shove gave him the opportunity to let out that snarling monster in his head, before he went after a Goddess' throat. Catching himself on the bar, Ty heaved himself up and immediately went for the little upstart's throat, meaty hand closing around the fragile windpipe as he proceeded to spin around, propelling Brom agains the bar.

"Forget being invited anywhere; it's a godsdamn wonder how you've lived so long," He growled, snatching his bottle back. Knowing that retaliation was at hand, the skinwalker released the shifter and readied himself, while silently giving the younger Fenrisulfr a brief grateful glance. Taking a deep gulp of the bourbon, he just shook his head.

[Wulfgar Fenrisulfr]

The Celt was no stranger to the lust he saw in the grace's eyes and it stirred the beast in his soul. Vaguely, he was aware of her power but it didn't seem to effect him like it did the other men in the bar. Men that included everyone but he and Ty. Ty was looking more like a bull who'd had a red flag waved in his face than an amused immortal. His words to him only proved that fact. It was on the tip of his tongue to growl at his friend but then an arm was slung over his shoulder and he was instantly aware of another problem. Well hell... Wasn't this just what he need? His aggravating brother and his smart mouth.

However, before he could beat the pup into submission, his brother in arms stole the opportunity right out from under him. Having spun around to retort, Wulf was pulled up short at the sight of Ty grabbing Brom by the throat and slamming him against the bar. Oh for the love of the gods...Shit was bout to hit the fan and it wasn't going to be pretty.

Sighing, the shifter turned, picked Ross up and spun her out of the line of fire before the smack down he knew was coming could commence. Moving so quick that he was a good 20 foot away before Brom had even recovered, Wulf sat her down on the bar and then crossed his arms over his chest.

"Damn... I can't take them anywhere anymore..." he said in resignation as his brother leapt for the skinwalker. "Best let them get it out of their system."

Then, turning his attention back to the woman, he rubbed his jaw and frowned.

"Now, where the hell were we... Oh yes, you were asking about where you'd seen me before.... I'm afraid I can't really answer that seeing as this is my first sight of you. I was born in 990 Scotland and have moved behind the lines of many different countries. I fought in all the major wars of my homeland and then brought my family to the new land in hopes of .... well, that doesn't really matter." He said with an absent shrug as a crash of splintering wood resounded behind them "My name is Wulfgar Fenrisulfr and I own this bar.... I also head the Council that governs our world. My siblings and I also own a fair number of business corporations and have stocks in every major market in the world."

Glancing at the bartender who slide two fresh drinks in front of them, Wulf took up the whiskey and tossed it back. His eyes gleamed with a world weariness that weighed heavy on his shoulders.

"So.... That's who I am. Nothing as glorious as a gladiator to stoke your fires. Just a guy who keeps an eye on things." he finished, over simplifying it as if it were nothing more than the next guy did in his day job. Never one to believe in bragging, he didn't tell her of the million battles he'd walked away from or the terror his name struck in the hearts of those who walked in their realm. Action always spoke louder than words, after all, and she'd already seen him at play. Casting a glance back over his shoulder at the two fighting gentleman, Wulf ran a hand through his already tangled hair.

"And evidently am the guy that is going to have to stop those two from killing each other... again...."

[Gemma McCarthy]

Now the dark begins to rise
Save your breath, it's far from over
Leave the lost and dead behind
Now's your chance to run for cover

I don't wanna change the world
I just wanna leave it colder
Light the fuse and burn it up
Take the path that leads to nowhere

All is lost again
But I'm not giving in…


Breaking Benjamin’s husky voice crashed through the speakers of her headphones, causing the body beneath it to raise her arm slightly and pump it rhythmically. The street around her was quiet, steadily drawing pedestrians and annoying tourists flocking from place to place. Weaving through the crowd like an expert, she used the twist, turns and short stops and turned them into a strange kind of rock concert dance that had more than a few heads turning.

Man, there just wasn’t anything like getting paid for a job well done. And what better way to commiserate such a good freaking day, than to head out on the town with her boys, Breaking and Benjamin, and look for some good booze to spend the extra cash on?

Nothing, that’s what. Especially when ‘extra’ practically promised her a good time. Ugh, sometimes it was good to be Queen.

But where to go, where to go. After spending a week tracking down two eloped teenagers with very rich, very angry parents, she needed somewhere to get her mind off of their scared faces. As a Private Investigator, it was her job to make her clients happy, and if they wanted their Romeo and Juliet back in New Orleans and separated…well, that was their problem.

Wasn’t it? Aw, hell, here came the guilt again.

With a groan, she turned up the music, trying to drown out the chattering voice of her conscience. Ever since she was a kid, she’d had the ability to find things or people. It didn’t matter who they were, what they did or if they were breathing, all she had to do was concentrate on an image, and bam. It was like a roadmap being drawn in her brain, and all she had to do was pay for gas and supplies.

Last week, she’d had two rich families come in, claiming that their kids had gone crazy and run off together. Given the political background of both families, it was important to have each teenager back at home to prevent someone kidnapping them for their trust funds. Neither kid knew how to survive out in the wide world, they were cut off from friends, family, their bank accounts…heck, it was the humane thing for her to find the two morons and ship them back to their parents.

Like any rich kid could survive without their platinum credit cards, right? Wrong. She’d found two of the most lucid, head-over-heels, responsible teenagers that she’d had the pleasure of meeting. And in the end, what did she do? Make sure that love prevailed?

Of course not. She made sure that her rent and utilities were paid for the next year, and shipped the kids back off to their parents, who proceeded to get their marriage annulled. One of the kids had committed suicide, and the other was supposedly locked in a mental institution. All within a week.

Another disgusted sigh escaped her and she yanked the earbuds out. Breaking Benjamin continued to croon into the speakers, but she couldn’t hear the music anymore. Yet another karma-failure to add to the list. She was so screwed.

If anyone ever needed a drink more than they needed to breathe, it was her. As such, it was just so natural for her to turn abruptly and duck into the first bar she found. The sign outside read ‘Screamers,’ and she was immediately a fan. Hell, any place that allowed some good screaming was definitely good in her book; better if they served cheap booze—

Three steps into the room, Gemma found herself ducking as a body crashed backward from the bar. The sounds of male grunting, amused growling and all around fighting noises lit up the room under the dull thud of the music.
Hell yeah, definitely her kind of place. Booze and a show!

Brows raised, she looked down at the two muscled men, even going so far as to lean sideways to get a good look at a pair of very tight backsides. Not bad, not bad at all. Flicking a strand of hair out of her eyes, she made a show of stepping over them as she made her way toward the bar. Good thing she’d ditched her skirt for a pair of jeans and a tank top.

Once at the bar, she cocked a brow at the blond guy who sounded like he knew the two combatants rolling around on the floor. Trying her best not to burst out laughing as she ordered a rum and coke, she leaned forward onto the bar, watching the show over her shoulder.

“I think you better get on that, Sir, before somebody calls the cops. Or they roll wrong and flatten one another ‘neath all that muscle. Man, now THAT’S a show fit for some boozing.”

[ross]

Her smile never left her lips as she looked at Ty speaking and looking like he wanted to separate her head from her shoulders. She just never understood those human type feelings that other had. To her you simply were what you were and that was that. So he had been a slave, but he had been a glorious one! His prowess in the arena had been remarkable.

Her eyes slid over to the dark haired man that entered before that arm slipped around the tall blonde's shoulder. Now that was one that appreciated festivity. those little lines near the eyes showing where laughter had not been an unusual thing.

Her eyes crinkled up as she threw her head back and laughed a little at the brotherly teasing and then the death wish the man exhibited as he poked and goaded the skin walker. But there wasn't much time to enjoy it as a surprised little shriek of merriment left her lips, feeling those large, broad hands gripping her 'round the waist and causing her to reach instinctively for that broad set of shoulders. the speed with which they moved was exhilarating and outside of Olympia she was not used to enjoying it. Few creatures, mortal or not, could move like the gods themselves.

Ross didn't bother to let her hands fall from him as he proceeded to tell his tale, instead slipping them up to circle his neck, bringing her body closer to his as she tilted her head to the side and up, watching his face as she listened. Only when he mentioned being the head of that pesky little council did a flicker of something not playful cross her features. So not good.

Trailing a fingertip, letting the nail drag lightly over his neck as she traced a line from the back of his neck to his collarbone she smiled coyly as she looked up at him through her eyelashes and said in a soft voice that carried to his ears alone. "Well Wulfy...I've never been one into politics much. Too much of a free spirit myself but I'd appreciate it if you kept my presence in this plane on the down low. There are those that might not like my presence here and things could get...." she paused and tilted her head a little back and forth as she looked for the words, that finger busy as she did, tracing little patterns and cirlces over the top most part of his chest in a teasing manner. "...well messy, and don't get me wrong; messy can be very fun in some things but not this. Heph and Ares might frown upon Ditie's BFF being in the same city as her little lust sprog. In fact it could bring their warriors to this fun, fine city and neither of us want that. Bad for business all around."

She lightly dragged one high heel clad foot along the outside of the big blonde Celt's outer leg as she curled her fingers in the fabric of his blood soaked and stained shirt, pulling him a little closer as she tilted her head up towards his, bringing their lips close but not quite touching just yet, inhaling his breath and feeling the warm, enticing tickle of it over her skin.

"And just for the record," she spoke in a whisper as she let her lips brush delicately over his on the last word before going on, her eyes turning up to look at him. "...you stoke my fires just fine big boy." Oh it had been so long since she'd enjoyed the company of a man, at least one that she was interested in. There was only so many persons on Olympus and over the centuries it tended to get a little old. And this man...this shifter...brought out the flirt in her like no other had in hundreds of years.

She pressed her lips to his and kissed lightly, a bit of a tiny electric jolt feeling where her lips touched his before she pulled away, those hazel eyes blazing a fiery blueish green as she looked up at him, leaning back away and letting go of his shirt. "Do what you gotta do honey..I'll be right here when you're done."

She chuckled lightly as she looked over at the little blonde that had come up to the bar beside them and tossed a wink. "You shoulda been in here when the big boy here was in action. Now that was made for viewing pleasure." Turning to the bartender as she remained sitting on the bar she ordered a round of tequila shooters for bar, opening her little clutch purse and tossing out a few hundreds on the bar to cover it all. She had never gotten the hang of human money. Never knew how much things were worth. For her worth was measured far differently.

"I was thinking some body shots myself." she confided in the other blonde woman and chuckled to herself. Oh all the wonderfully lickable places that that salt could be placed on the body. ...Her favorite though was the little span of flesh that connected the shoulder to the neck. Those thoughts flitted through the little Grace's mind as she watch Wulf go. She shook her head and whistled low under her breath. "I hate to see him go ....but I love to watch him leave." she said as she watched that tight little backside of his move with each step. Yes, she was rotten to the core...but in the nicest of ways.