[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/TTOwIr0.png[/img][/center] [center][img]https://txt.1001fonts.net/img/txt/dHRmLjEyOC5jNjAxMDEuVG05aGFDQkRiM0oyWVc1bC4z/shoguns-clan.regular.webp[/img][/center] [center][color=black][sup]____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________[/sup][/color][/center][color=darkslategray] [center][color=C60000][b]Location:[/b][/color] Sundown Row - The Pink Room • [color=C60000][b]Time:[/b][/color] Dusk[/center] [center][color=C60000][b]Interactions:[/b][/color] Wren [@Tpartywithzombi], Locke [@Oso]• [color=C60000][b]Mentions:[/b][/color] Luther [/center][/color] [center][color=black][sup]____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________[/sup][/color][/center] [color=slategray] Neon lights bathed everything in hues of red. The music’s rhythm thumped and pulsed like a frantic heartbeat and washed over the ambient conversation. The air, thick and heady, clung to everything in the room. The unmistakable odor of mangey wet dog wafted around the establishment. [i]Lycan.[/i] [color=C60000]“We’ve got a loose mutt in here.“[/color] He leaned in close as he whispered in Wren’s ear. Noah walked a step behind her, kept one hand resting against her hip and guided her movements as they entered The Pink Room. His hand, his eyes, and the way he kept only a sliver of space between them served to remind anyone who looked their way that Wren was his. He spotted Locke tucked away in an alcove that was just private enough for a meeting. The Fae was more polished now, but still held that calculated ease about him, and he looked a bit too comfortable for Noah’s taste. His eyes lingered for a moment on the Fae, shadow and neon lights flickering across his face. Noah lifted a hand and offered a small wave of his fingers that was anything but friendly. He paired it with a grin that matched. Halfway between the entrance and the booth Locke had picked out, Noah paused. He pulled a few crisp bills from a leather wallet as he approached a man in simple clothes and tight black shirt with the kind of build that said he knew how to keep order in a place like this. He felt that unease coiling around the human as he got closer and sensed that sharp hint of fear that sliced its way through even the most unshakable humans when a vampire got too close. [color=C60000]“Hey there,”[/color] He glanced down at the man’s crooked name tag with a grin. Noah could sense that internal struggle; that primal instinct in humans that told them to flee from something dangerous while the mind kept them convinced nothing was wrong. It was what he liked about humans: they rarely listened to their instincts until it was far too late. [color=C60000]“Dalton. Send your best dancer over to my friend there.”[/color] He pointed to Locke and tapped the cash pinched between his fingers against Dalton’s chest. The man cautiously plucked the cash from Noah’s hand and gave a single nod. [color=C60000]“He’s looking a bit…lonely. And tell whatever girl you send in to keep her attention on Locke.”[/color] Noah continued, his hand moved from Wren’s waist, up her back, and his fingers lightly stroked her neck. [color=C60000]“My girl’s the jealous type…”[/color] He leaned in a little closer and Dalton moved one foot back but never quite committed to adding distance between them. [color=C60000]“[i]Not friendly.[/i]”[/color] With a move that was equal parts playful and threatening, Noah snapped his teeth and followed it with a sinister snicker. He heard the calming of Dalton’s heartbeat as he moved away from the man and his hand returned to Wren’s hip as they moved like a singular dark entity towards Locke. Time to see how well he could get under Locke’s skin, ensure the Fae didn’t have the upper hand in this dealing. [color=C60000]“Been a long time, Lucky, glad you showed. I was beginning to think you didn’t like me anymore.“[/color] He said, standing by the booth and looking down at Locke. There wasn’t a hint of warmth in his voice. Any bit of nostalgia for the bond they’d once had was long gone; it had died away when Locke had turned his back on him and Angel years ago. [color=C60000]“Wren, this is Locke. Locke, this is my Wren.”[/color] His hand gestured between the two, offering only the briefest introduction. Both arms moved to wrap around Wren’s waist as he pulled her closer to him. [color=C60000]“I’ve got business for you.”[/color] He said to Locke and there was only a coldness that felt even more out of place in a club that radiated heat. [/color]