Lady Sings the Blues

[Paris Black]

Paris sat at the far end of the bar on the unusually crowded night, waiting for Belinda and her bandmates to go onstage. She'd called the girl on incredibly short notice and left her a voicemail that simply said she couldn't perform tonight and could they play in her place? And while they were at it, how about for the next month? Belinda had accepted graciously, of course, especially with the money Paris had practically thrown at her, though the two had become well enough friends by now that she suspected if Belinda knew the real reason she'd have done it for free.

Paris had drawn her knees up to her chest in the barstool, leaning on the backing and spinning side to side every few minutes. Her blonde hair was accessorized with black and pink extensions throughout, giving her the appearance of a raver sort of Barbie, except that the glittery silver of her jeans and plain, fitted white t-shirt suggested that Paris wasn't in the mood for going to any parties. She wore very little makeup, which was odd for her, and her eyes were red-rimmed. She'd been crying.

And why not? Liam and her had had the fight, the fight of all fights, the Supreme 'Pack Your Shit and Get Out' fight. And Paris had done just that. She was lucky enough to have a room at the Lounge where the precious few things she did own were currently housed, but she had checked into a hotel to try and burn off some of her energy without any interference.

She sipped on a Long Island Ice Tea - her third one, so by now, sipping was crucial to not puking, and felt pretty goddamn good about herself and the world around her. Being drunk made it almost impossible to just shut out the thoughts that hung close to her, and so every time she would spin in the chair, she could hear a blur of commotion and noise that didn't seem to make any sense. When she opened her eyes and stopped spinning, they were gone, and it was just her and her drink.

She gathered her hair up into a lazy ponytail and put her head on the bar for a few moments, trying to regroup her thoughts. Where was she? Ah, yeah. Drinkin'. Drinkin' and bein' depressed. That sounded juuuuus' right.

[Darren Liten]

This had been a bad day and night, which was unfortunate, since it was his day off.  He was trying not to think about why he had everything he owned packed into his 'Vette, which had also pissed Mars off, but he didn't care.  He was going to do his best not to think about that situation, and thus ended up in the Mojo Lounge.  He eventually wanted to go to the Hollow, if only for a place to chill for the night, but he'd have too much time to think there.  The Mojo Lounge was loud in just about every way imaginable, and he found his senses bombarded the instant he walked in.

It was a shame shifters couldn't get drunk.

Or at least, he didn't think they could.  He hadn't found a drink yet that could pull it off, so when he sat down, he didn't even bother ordering one.  He got a soda, and began his sulking.  He focused his thoughts on everything around him though, and that was the purpose of the outing.  He hadn't really taken notice of the girl beside him, except to realize after he was already seated beside her that she stank of alcohol.  She must have been having a bad night as well, considering she was alone.  Sucked to be her, too.

[Paris Black]

Paris was intoxicated enough to be more liberal with her mind-reading; not that Darren's head wasn't loud enough as it was. She closed her eyes tightly a moment to try and shut it out, and then looked over at him, bright eyes glossy with smudged mascara. It was strange how Paris managed to be good-looking even in this state. Something about her just was, though.

"Do ya mind?" she asked, though no doubt Darren had NO idea what she was talking about. "At least I'm not the only one whose life sucks right now," she snapped to herself, turning back. She buried whatever else she said into the bottom of her drink, and then slid it over to the bartender, empty.

"S'first time ever that Papa has jus' told me to sit here 'n get drunk 'n not worry about a thing. Maybe he'll make Liam's wee-wa fall off," she said hopefully, leaning on the counter with a dramatic sigh. She didn't even really seem to be talking to anyone - more or less, she was just blowing off steam.

She looked back at Darren, and raised her brow.

"Hey, cat boy, want a drink?"

So graceful.

[Darren Liten]

He blinked in surprise when she snapped at him, looking at her as he tried to figure out what the hell she was talking about when she asked if he minded.  Did she not want him sitting there?  That was definitely a bitchy way to say it if that was the case, and it seemed to be.  Whatever, he wasn't moving.  If she didn't want him around, she could move somewhere else herself.  

"And what makes you think my life sucks?" he shot right back at her, his tone borderline polite and curious, though there was a venom lurking beneath the surface.  He was still pissed over the things Mars had said, and even pretending not to think about it couldn't hold all of that back.  If he'd known she was psychic, he might have tried, but he had no idea.  The entire argument they'd had was at Paris' fingertips, right there in his mind.

There this strange woman was though, continuing on as though she hadn't just snapped at him as though he'd done something undesirable.  Was she talking to herself, or him?  Maybe the bartender, who'd approached to get her another drink?  Darren had no idea.  Liam?  Boyfriend troubles on her mind?

Cat boy?!

He shot her a dark look, though he normally would have laughed at her comment.  Usually, those things amused him instead of bothering him, but he'd just been wiped across the floor with his shifter blood being one of the problems thrown in his face.  Having it brought up by some woman he'd never even met was a shock, to say the least.  

"I'm fine.  I doubt there's anything here that could get me drunk, anyway.  Am I that obvious, that you can figure out I'm a cat shifter than easily?"

[Paris Black]

Paris smiled serenly at him, and then held a finger up in pause as she took a Kamikaze shot right quick. She cleared her throat, and then spoke, turning to face him fully with her chair. She stuck a foot out and propped a boot on the rim at the bottom of the bar, dangerously close to where his legs were."

"Lesse if I can guess," she said, clapping her hands together. And her accent was -bad-. "You're sick o' bein' treated like a little kid someone's gotta babysit. Like your girlfriend - er- EX-girlfriend, 'scuse me. No, no, stay, 'cos I got more, and believe me honey-child I know where yer comin' from."

She leaned forward a little.

"An' yer sick o' havin' the same damn five conversations, the biggest two revolvin' somewhere around, oh, you are really gettin' damn tired of the "I won't be around in five years" act and you're gettin' reeeeal sick o' the whole 'Who was that, why was she talkin' to you" speech."

She stopped, now inches from his face.

"Am I warm yet?" she asked, cocking her head to the side with a smile. She turned suddenly, and motioned for the tender to give her a specific bottle. Once she had it, she leaned on the bar, and poured him a drink.

"An' this, green eyes, will surely get you jus' as drunk as I am."

She smiled and pushed it to him. Care to take an offering from the devil?

[Darren Liten]

It was true that the first thing he did was look at her like she was being ridiculous in even trying to guess, but that look faded as she mentioned the big issue on his mind.  He'd moved ever so slightly as though he were going to take off, but he'd stopped himself even as she told him to stay.  That she had more.

How did she know this?  All of it?  She'd hit upon each of the biggest issues he and Mars had discussed, but all he could smell on her was alcohol and human.  She didn't smell like a vampire, so he didn't think she was reading his mind, but that didn't explain any of it.  It also didn't explain why he stayed put as she leaned closer every sentence or so.  She knew way too much, and he should have been leaving.  He knew enough about the world around him to know better than to hang around in a situation like this, but he wanted to know how she knew.  How did she know that Mars' belief that she wouldn't be around long bothering him all this time?  And that Mars got jealous, especially when he was around other feline shifters, about the way he acted?  How could she possibly know that Mars had looked at it as 'babysitting' him, when he could handle the consequences of what was going on around him?  It didn't make sense!

"You're hot as hell, but how did you know all of that?" he asked, though the multiple meanings to what he said didn't make it clear which one was intended.  Maybe a few of them.  Did he dare take that drink, though?  He'd never actually been drunk before, so he was intrigued by something that could manage it, but also a bit wary.  He'd only ever experienced catnip before, and he knew he acted like an idiot with that.  Would this really work?  Did the woman really know what she was talking about?

He was thinking she did, but he wasn't so sure if he believed the drink would actually accomplish what she claimed.  Especially since she'd apparently had quite a few to get to the point she was at.  He watched her almost warily for a moment, those green eyes she's taken notice of locked on hers, but he inevitably reached for the glass, took a sniff of it, and drank it.

[Paris Black]

"Cus, paws, I'm a psychic," she said cheerfully, like she was telling him she was blonde, or any other random and obvious factoid about herself. She could hear the gears grinding in his head, the who's and the how's and the why's, and it made her ears ring. She reached out and put a hand on his knee.

"Hey now, why can't you stop yer yappin' for two durn seconds? Ya have any idea how much that makes my head spin? 'specially in this state o' mind! I mean, when I'm sober it's like, fine, okay, but now, it's like whoooaaaaa.." she said, drawling off and stumbling back to find her seat. She did without incident, and hopped back up into it.

"An' fer the record, be glad she ain't a mind reader like I am, 'cus that girl you had would hate to know what other women thought of you, fuzzy britches." She grinned a cheshire grin then.

Ah Paris, so charming.

[Darren Liten]

A psychic.  She was seriously a psychic?  Well, he certainly wasn't 'yapping' out loud, so she had to be talking about his thoughts.  She wanted him to shut up his thoughts because they were making her head spin.

This was insane.

Of course, how much more insane was it than him being able to shift into a great big kitty cat, or his ex-girlfriend hunting vampires?  Point.  He finished his drink on that thought, and he was doubting whether or not the drink would actually work.  The buzz sort of snuck up on him though, and he didn't exactly notice it immediately.  His thoughts DID slow down as the alcohol began its work, making his mind a clearer, more friendly place.  Just like he'd been hoping for when he walked in.  A distraction.

This woman was actually a very nice distraction, now that he thought about it.  Just looking at her was distracting, when his mind wasn't buzzing with the argument he'd had with Mars.  It was better when it was buzzing with this new feeling, even if it wasn't yet enough to knock him on his ass.

He may or my not have been able to easily toss aside that last comment of hers normally, but it definitely didn't work out that way this time.  He ended up blushing involuntarily and looking away from her and that grin of hers.  He was torn between being downright curious, and not being sure he believed it.  Most of that ego of his was for show.

"Would she?  Why, what are they thinking?" he asked, giving in to curiosity enough to ask.  He remembered rather suddenly what she'd said about reading his mind, and he tried to quiet his thoughts again, which a little more success due to the alcohol that was entering his system.  He was trying.  "I don't think I can stop that 'yapping'.  You're really psychic?"

[Paris Black]

On the turn of his head, Paris slid back out of her chair and closed the small gap between them again, reaching out to turn his face gently to look at her. Her eyes were level with his, what with him sitting and all slumpy and her in some stupid heeled boots. Her finger tickled against the stubble on his chin, and she smiled in spite of herself.

"Hey, Whiskers, don't do that. Let me see them purdy green eyes, hm?" she asked sweetly. She teetered for a moment, and then opted to throw her right elbow down on the counter to lean, releasing him and placing her hand on his knee again in favour of his face.

"Yeah, I'm really psychic. I know, ain't it grand? S'why I work here. I help out Papa an' he helps me out. Helps me learn to shut all you beautiful people up, 'cuz otherwise, I'd lose my durn mind." She smiled brightly.

"And they are thinkin, Mr Pitty Pat, that they would love to stuff some catnip down their shirts and see if you can find it."

[Darren Liten]

He could have still tried to avoid her eyes if he wanted to, but they flicked up to meet hers when she asked, not really able to resist.  There was no reason  to, and she intrigued him enough that he wasn't about to bolt just yet.  Besides, he was feeling pretty comfortable.  Enough that he smiled at the way she'd asked him not to look away with that great accent of hers and her explanation about this guy she called Papa.  Her answer made his face flush all over again, though.

Even worse than the blushing was that he couldn't even attempt to stop his eyes from flicking down to HER chest, the thought briefly shooting through his mind as to whether or not she'd been thinking it herself.  Her hand on his knee wasn't helping in keeping his thoughts clean, and though his gaze hadn't remained on her chest, he didn't know where else to put it.  Looking her in the eyes when she'd caught all of that would just make him feel more embarrassed, and she was close enough that it was difficult not to make eye contact, though he was managing it so far.

"Guess it's a good thing they don't all know that would work then, huh?" he said, since there was no doubt in his mind that he'd find it.  That just...wasn't a good habit to find himself getting into.  

[Paris Black]

"Maybe," she said, still very close to him. She smiled finally, and then sat back, as though she had been triumphant somehow. She ordered her final drink, just an Amaretto Sour, though she lacked the balance to climb back onto her stool, and so, leaned against Darren for support.

"So whatcha gon' do now, Fluffy?" she asked, looking pointedly at him. Even with very little makeup on, Paris still looked like a Barbie. A walking, talking, rockin' Barbie. And right now, a very drunk, swaggering, pirate Barbie. Because only pirates can really swagger.

[Darren Liten]

What was he going to do?  That was a damn good question.  

His original plan was to crash at the Hollow for a few days, save up a little more money and find a small apartment somewhere, and figure things out from there.  He didn't think driving was a good idea at the moment, considering how floaty he felt.  Having never been drunk before, he didn't really think about it any further than that.  It left him with a little problem, though.  If he couldn't drive, he wouldn't be getting all the way to the Hollow right then and there.

"I dunno," he said honestly, shrugging his shoulders at her.  "But you were right.  This stuff works."

In case her mind-reading abilities didn't tell her that, or her eyes, for that matter.  It didn't take much to be able to see that he'd relaxed.

[Paris Black]

"Told ya so, kittycat. Why ever would ya doubt li'l me?" she asked, grinning. She sucked down her last drink, and then waved her hands and motioned for the tender to hand her a purse that was behind the counter. She dug through it for a moment and then pulled a cigarette out.

"I'm sure you don' smoke, but I do, an' since this is still a bar, that's what I'mma do. You min'?" she slurred, arching a brow as she attempted three times to light the cigarette before finally igniting it, only to find she'd lit the wrong end. She had to throw it out, get another one, and try it again, this time with more concentration than before.

She exhaled, careful not to blow smoke in the shifter's face, and looked at him expectantly. "So. Telmeboutyerself."

[Darren Liten]

He shrugged when she asked why he'd doubt her, the answer mostly being because he didn't know her, and how would she have something that would get a shifter this buzzed up?  He was currently wondering if another would make all of his worries disappear completely, or just render him completely incapable of walking out of there.  Big difference, though the latter would probably include the former.  He didn't think getting that trashed would be a good idea, though.

He wasn't interested in spiting Mars by getting nabbed by a vampire the night she threw him out.

"Don't mind," he told her simply, his words not really slurring, but his sentences definitely having lost any eloquence he may have had.  "Why don't you just read my mind?"

That made the most sense, since she already knew more about him than he'd have told her under usual circumstances.  He didn't know what she didn't know.  "Uh, I'm a leopard, work at Hellcat's Hollow, and I'm now single," he told her with a shrug.  With no place to live.  Lovely.

[Paris Black]

"Heeey, join the club, kittencat!" she cheered. "I packed muh thangs and stormed off 'fore Liam could e'en get 'nother word out. It's a beautiful thang, walkin' out in the middle of a fight 'n packin' yer shit." She paused, and shook her head a little, tone sad. "Thought he mighta stopped me. Guess so many years don't mean squat to someone who's jes' wantin' to control everythin' about you."

She slumped against his leg a little, leaning back on the bar with her arms. Paris thought for a moment, and then smiled, the solemn words giving way to a much more interesting topic.

"Why don'tcha take mah hotel room? I got a room here at the Lounge, so s'not like yer puttin' me out any. I c'n get you there 'n come back here. S'really like.. not even a block down th' way. I promise, no funny stuff," she said, holding her hands up innocently.

There was nothing innocent about Paris, though.