Andrew was restless. He'd passed the Mojo Lounge more than once during his stay in New York, and had indeed heard many tales of the dealings of Papa Aristide. He swung into the parking lot, parking the black M5 close to the entrance, and got out. He straightened his long jacket and headed inside, rubbing his hands together. New York had a tendency to get chilly around this time of year, and Andrew, though preferring the cold, still had to reacquaint himself with it in all aspects.
He entered the Lounge, feeling immediately the presence of a strange power, and attributed it to the owner, though he didn't seek him out to converse. He wasn't in the mood to talk technique, and he was already well aware that this was a neutral area, so he had no major concerns. He sauntered across the room to the bar, and almost stopped in his tracks as he saw a blonde leaning against the counter speaking to a tender there. The familiar aura was dampened horribly to mute it to a human's, but the call of their magic was still there, singing softly to his own.
Vida, he thought to himself. But who?.
Her short blonde hair was cut into a longer version of a bob and styled so that it hung in her face slightly. There was only one Vida Witch he knew of that had possessed that trademark style for the last ten years, and he clenched his fists together tightly. There had been an effective manhunt for her in parts of Europe, one which he was regrettably not a part of, because if he had, she would have been seized. He felt his anger flare, and quickly swallowed it back down. She may have been able to dim her aura down, but he could appear completely human if he wanted to, and so he took the seat next to her effortlessly, offering her a smile before he ordered his drink.
Danielle leaned against the bar lazily, twining a short strand of hair between her fingers as she spoke to Paris about this or that. She was listening to Paris' interesting account of a one-night stand she'd had with someone who Danielle was pretty sure tended at Hellcat's Hollow. She'd have to mention it to Ash when she saw him, so that they could gang up on Darren later and tease him.
She glanced over her shoulder at the man who sat down. Why he was smiling at her, she didn't know, but she returned it politely, those dusky gray eyes surveying him briefly before she turned her attentions back to the bubbly blonde.
"Paris, grab me another lemon drop, would you?" she asked, kicking a chair out so she could actually sit down. She lit a cigarette, and set her lighter back down just over the ledge of the bar where Paris kept her cigarette pack at.
Paris nodded. "Sure thang," she said. She glanced at the new arrival, and arched one of her eyebrows. "C'n I getcha anythin'?" she asked in that Southern accent of hers. She smiled brightly.
Paris looked like a macaw. She was wearing a chartreuse silk top that was effectively one strip of fabric - it wound around her neck and back like a halter, and crossed over her chest, covering her breasts only just enough for Aristide not to chide her about her ensemble. She was still deeply tanned even in the colder months, and she had a little diamond drop hanging from her navel piercing. She wore her normal low-cut fitted blue-jeans, with a sash belt that matched her top. Platform green shoes completed the look, as well as lime green extensions she'd put in her blonde and black hair. Her makeup was gold and lime green, with glitter spattered across her eyes and cheeks like butterfly wings.
Andrew looked Paris over quickly, but it wasn't the typical glance that she received from the Witch. He could sense that she had power, but it wasn't the same sort as his. Natural, but not Macht. What could it be? He tilted his head a little, and then his lips quirked into a smile.
"Just a Bourbon on the rocks, thanks," he said with that charming smile he threw on for work. He glanced back at the other blonde, stealing a moment as she payed attention to something else to memorize her features, reacquaint himself with her face.
The last time he had seen Danielle they were teens. It had been before Marcus had died, but only briefly, when she and Marcus had come to visit he and his family for a week during the summer. He hadn't really gotten along well with either of them in the traditional sense - he liked them well enough, but they were so untrained. Well, Danielle more than Marcus. It was a shame he was the one who had died. Marcus was the one who had the reserve to go far with his magic. Danielle... she was like a firework. Lots of show, lots of bang, but nothing's left except ashes.
He looked away, at something else, before she turned back to him.
"Thanks, Paris," she said smoothly, hand wrapping around the small glass her lemon drop came in. Danielle knew she couldn't get drunk, but it didn't stop her from enjoying the drinks. Besides, she was positive Paris had something behind that bar that might actually get her drunk if she asked, she just... didn't want to know. It bothered her on some levels that Papa Aristide had found magical loopholes to so much of her world, but she supposed that as long as she didn't rock the boat in his territory she'd avoid ever feeling the effects of them.
"Not singing tonight?" she asked, ashing her cigarette into a small crystal ashtray nearby. "I would have thought you'd have been up by now."
She couldn't help but glance back at the man sitting next to them. He looked familiar, but Danielle certainly saw a lot of people on a daily basis. He had to have been someone she'd run into before. No matter, it was insignificant. Danielle looked away again.
"So Ash might okay a Christmas party," she informed the other blonde. "If so, I need you to help me decorate. I'm no good with it, and I know he'll make me do it as punishment for the party."
Paris slid Andrew's drink to him while looking at Danielle. "Nah, not in the mood. 'sides, I like this bartendin' thang. People give me lots of tip money, which I use to buy tons of crap that I don't have any room for. My new apartment is sma-all," she whined. She took a hit off of her own drink, which was just a rum and Coke, and leaned against the counter again.
"You actually got him to consider a Christmas party? Well hell, what'd ya have ta do fer that? Nevermind, I don't wanna know," she added, holding a hand up as Danielle opened her mouth to answer.
"So how are things between you two? No more stabby-stabby I guess?" she pried. Paris couldn't read Danielle's mind, which was simply because of what Danielle was. She'd found Witches were hard to read, but the trained ones were impossible. With Danielle it was all guesswork.
Sometimes Danielle wanted to slap Paris for her brash disregard of tact, but then she realized that it must be what others felt when they spoke to her. "No, Paris, no more stabby-stabby. Sometimes I really wonder about you," she countered.
"Well, sometimes I really wonder 'bout you, too, Missy," Paris snapped evenly.
"Oh, hush, you drunk. You're just mad because I'm going to make you hang all the decorations. I figured you'd be happy, there's going to be so much glitter on those things that you'll look like a Martian when you're done. Yeah, I figured that would make you happy. Plus, you'll get to see Dar-ren," she teased, jabbing Paris with a finger.
Andrew used every ounce of restraint not to choke on his drink as they name-dropped, unaware of who and what he was. Impending doom for Danielle, really, if she played her cards right. Ash Leone was the only Ash he knew of that they could be talking about, especially when it came to the specifics of what they were saying. But Paris' jest to Danielle almost made him vomit - really, talk about cradle robbing. He knew Danielle was old enough to decide for herself, but in her current state of mind he wondered if she was really capable of making that decision. He silenced himself by downing the rest of his drink quickly, feeling the burn as it worked its way down into his chest. It was a shame it wouldn't get him drunk.
He glanced over at the two women finally, setting his empty glass down on the counter. "Christmas party, you say? At the Hollow?" he asked, tilting his head. He had to be sure. He had to be 100% sure before he went wild with this.
Darren, unlike Paris and Andrew, had been in the Hollow during the discussion over the Christmas party. He thought it was a great idea, but he knew that Ash wasn't really for it. Ash agreed because Danielle whined enough, and from the sound of it, he wasn't doing anything to help. Darren knew better, though. Ash would watch her struggle to make it great, and then he'd huff and go help, and it'd be amazing. He'd seen what happened when Ash tried his hand at organizing a party, and it had turned out to be a Halloween bash that the Nyeusi world hadn't seen the likes of before or since. Imagine, Midnight and Mayhem, with hunters all over the place, getting along. Brilliant.
Of course, that didn't mean it'd be fun.
He'd almost forgotten about the party conversation right up until he stopped into the Mojo Lounge, planning on chatting with Paris and relaxing in a place where he knew that crazy vampire couldn't get at him, but seeing Danielle and Paris talking reminded him all over again. He was sure to give the man who'd just spoken to them a good once over, though. The guy didn't smell right, kind of like Danielle and a few other people he'd met didn't smell quite right for a human, but he couldn't be sure. It might just be his nerves, the atmosphere, or any number of things. He'd watch out.
"That Christmas party is going to be amazing, Danielle," he piped up as he walked up, giving Paris a smile before he tossed caution aside long enough to lean over the bar and drop a kiss on her cheek. Most places, that wouldn't be a good thing while someone was working, but this was the Mojo Lounge. He only didn't go for the lips out of respect for Paris.
Danielle looked at Andrew, a brow raised. "Yeah, the Hollow. You go there a lot?" she asked hesitantly. She swore he was someone she'd run into before, and Danielle only recognized two kinds of people: People that she'd burned in the past, and people she owed money to. She didn't think she owed him any money, either. "Have we met before?" she said finally, glancing at Darren.
"It sure better be if there's going to be glitter. Y'all need a stand in tender? I could work it with ya, Darren, maybe let ya have some time to mingle," she offered, turning her head to intercept the kiss on the cheek for one on the lips. Hey, this was Paris we're talking about. She and modesty don't mix. Look at her clothing, for Pete's sake!
"Hey kitten," she said lightly with a large smile. "How ya doin'?" Paris knew about Purezza. Darren didn't have to tell her, since she could read minds, something she did to him often enough without regard. If he'd told her to stop, she would've, but so far, so good. "Have a nice nap?"
She watched the scene with Andrew and Danielle unfold, and held her breath. Danielle wasn't known for having the most congenial friends that Paris could recall. She squeezed Darren's hand gently, trying to alert him of an impending problem. She might not be able to read either of their minds, but it was plain as day.
"No, the frequency of my visits is severely less than it used to be," he admitted. He'd been there more when he was still with Frost, mainly to keep an eye on things at Christian's request. There had been a time when Ash hadn't been around much, and Andrew had moonlighted there every few nights to make sure there wasn't anything he needed to squash. People said it was neutral, but he'd seen more back-alley fights than he cared to remember.
He stared at Danielle long and hard, locking his misty green-gray eyes on her own, and finally spoke. "What do you think, Danielle? Have we met before?" he asked finally, his voice cold. He was going out on a limb by even reacting to her like this, but when he thought of all of the things she'd done... He hoped he'd be the one allowed to strip her of her power.
"Darren, call Ash. Now," she commanded. She finally realized who he was - Andrew Vida. As a child they'd spent time with him at his parents' home when they'd lived briefly in California for a visit, and she remembered him to be just as Dominique was - with cold precision a child never should have had, that gene that she lacked from Vida training seemed to cling to him like the sweet stench of death in the morning.
She jumped out of her seat, trying to distance herself from him. "Unless you've got a death wish, Andrew, I suggest you leave, now, because when that Triste walks through this door this room is going to look a whole lot different." She allowed her own energy to flare up, no regard for the rule of the Lounge. Not when her life was at stake.
Andrew reached out, reflexes as fast as a cat as he caught her arm before she could clear the space between them. He yanked her back, still in his seated position, and held her firmly, even as she tried to put up her energy barriers. Andrew could easily collapse them, but he wanted to give her the illusion of control for the moment.
"Hiding behind the Triste. So it is true what they've said, Danielle," he mused, his voice slow and calculated. "I've waited a long time for this moment, to repay you for all of the damage you've done to our name, but I fear that this is neither the time nor the place for it."
He yanked her close as he rose, squeezing her hand so tightly that it would hurt her. He fused his energy through his palm, the sudden lash of the fiery power enough to give her a good backflow burn. "Not yet, dear cousin, but soon," he whispered into her ear. "Triste or no, you've long since shown where your alignment lays, and it is no longer on the right side."
He released her suddenly and smiled at Darren. "Don't bother, " he said with a wave. "I'm done here." He looked over at Danielle, and his smile seemed to freeze on his face. "Be seeing you real soon, cousin," he promised. He tossed Paris a twenty dollar bill and straightened his coat, then headed for the exit. Wheras Danielle was willing to break the rules of the establishment, Andrew was not, and especially not surrounded by innocent people.
Danielle's hand burned like no other as he overpowered her own energy and forced them both down into her hand. It was like the time she'd grabbed a hot pan, except worse - and she wouldn't be healing in record time, not from this one. She didn't give him the satisfaction of screaming, but she wanted to, as her palm blistered and peeled. She'd need to get immediate care for it, and that meant she'd need to find a Smoke Witch. Danielle was about done with Witches for the day.
She sank back into her chair as he left, his promises of returning hanging in the air. "Darren," she said slowly, voice shaking as much as he'd ever heard it before. "I need you to call Ash, now." She looked like she was about to cry, and for good reason. Andrew was the Reaper. To her, he was going to make it his life's purpose to be the last thing she saw before she died, and Danielle knew he shared her determination for things.
She'd be running forever, now. She lowered her head, trying to take a few breaths and grasp the situation more fully while she waited for Ash to get on the phone.
Darren couldn't help but grin at the fact that she'd totally made sure he caught her lips instead of her cheek, and really, what guy wouldn't? It was perfect, exactly what any smart guy would want. That mind reading ability wasn't exactly a point of greatness, but he didn't have much to hide, and he didn't think about it all that often. If he had, he might have considered the Purezza situation and Paris' opinion on that. That fact that she knew about his vampire problem might have made him a little...uncomfortable? Ashamed? Purezza scared the hell out of him, mostly because there wasn't a damn thing he could do to stop her once she did that voice trick, and his first instinct was to be afraid of and stay the hell away from anything that could make prey out of him.
"Currently, I'm just fine," he remarked to Paris' question, though his attention was being diverted by the two witches. Mention of the Hollow and this mystery man showing up in there made him stop to think, and it was obvious to anyone watching him instead of the other two that he'd suddenly recognized the guy. He had his phone out in another instant, but he hesitated long enough to judge whether he was going to have to drop the phone and jump Andrew's ass to give Danielle a chance to either escape or fight him off, or if he'd have time to call Ash. Andrew may not have known it, but it wasn't only Ash that would jump in to help Danielle. Darren was loyal to the triste, but he'd also kind of become fond of her after seeing her in the Hollow so often. Besides, Ash had been through enough. He didn't need to deal with losing Danielle.
"He's your cousin?" he asked, even as he hit the speed dial for the Hollow on his phone, rather disgusted in the family situation Danielle had. His own cousin would risk his life to keep family safe, and hers was going to threaten her. Nice guy, there. "Ash, I'm at the Mojo Lounge with Danielle. It's an emergency, you need to get over here fast."
A second later, the triste had hung up the phone, which wasn't a surprise at all. Ash's phone manners varied depending on a a number of factors, and Darren was used to it. Ash wouldn't be long.
"What in the hell!" she exclaimed, coming over the counter - which would be a bad idea, since she was the mortal in this trio, although if someone had harmed her they'd have Aristide to worry about. "Dayng, Danielle, wut the hell kinda family problems y'all got?" she asked, slack-jawed as she surveyed her hand.
"I seen summat like that 'fore," she said, pointing to it. "Heh, we had to go see a witch doctor for it. Ain't no regular medicine helpin' that one." She reached around and bumped Darren lightly, giving Danielle some space.
"I couldn't read his head, Danielle, or I'da warned ya. Sorry," she said sheepishly.