Catwalk :P

[FangedSmile]

Nove peered out the window of his penthouse with a scowl that was mirrored back at him by his own reflection as if the distaste he had for the city below was the same distaste he had for himself. Though, the expression was not ugly. Nothing that Nove did looked ugly- yet his life could not be called beautiful, either. Not while acknowledging the intent of such a word.

His appearance was a poison that the vast majority of the population had been drinking eagerly since his age hit the double digits and had left them terminally ill, weak, and malleable. He felt they were all envious and seemed to think that getting close to him would cure them while it really just deepened their sickness. Another billboard showcased his face and they would go to great lengths to make up stories of good deeds he had never performed- and those listening to the bullshit would stare at the pictures and say they could see his great big golden heart in his eyes or some undefined purity in his features.

The publicity managers and speech writers who had crafted his persona heard him echo their carefully chosen words for years and somehow they believed they came from his soul. He was the outcome of an artfully forged lie that people had forgotten they were telling. He was a humanitarian, a sage, a hero... A humble, hopeless romantic who gave so charity and spoke for the people as one of them. He could blush on command, promise camaraderie with a wink, and summon sympathy by implying tragedy without the need to cry.

But that was public. In the privacy of his penthouse, with a window that actively worked against cameras, the facade slipped and he peered down at those far below, who had no idea he was even watching them.

They were a plague.

So many lights... so much noise... so many people who littered in his park, and polluted his air with their car exhausts and bad music; people who were so... unnecessary. They made his city worse, simply by existing in it. Normally, he at least enjoyed winter because the streets were white and glittering, and everyone was dressed in layers- putting a lot of money into fancy coats that attempted to hide the way they had neglected their bodies. However, the irritation he felt lately was unyielding.

He watched the ants below with a scotch glass delicately held in his right hand, his left was in the pocket of his new white silk suit and appeared, as always, like he was in the middle of a photo shoot.

"The bartender still hasn't arrived," worried Silas Black- an intern who had become Nove's personal butler three years ago and forgotten that he'd originally had his own life. He strangled his hands behind his back but had finally learned to keep his anxiety from his face.

"Relax," Nove instructed him in a calm, poised drawl. "Every civilized host knows how to serve drinks."

Silas held his hands still. Not that he would ever admit it, but deep down he knew his concern was not for the guests. The party was going on behind him. Warmth and light and human contact, all only a few feet away, yet Nove was not ready to step out onto that stage. He could hear the music; the lights were flashing to its beat so everyone looked to be in an iPod commercial, or trapped in a stop animation movie. The smell of the horderves and fondue tantalized the senses of the party-goers.

"Everyone came," Silas was delighted to announce. "And I hear a few new people have come as well."

"New people," Nove sighed and looked up at his own reflection for a brief moment of private honesty before he lightened his expression, downed the scotch he'd been sniping at, and tossed the glass to Silas.

The butler caught it with a casual grace that Nove wished he would utilize more frequently, and followed along on the trek to the staircase that would lead down to the party.

Cherrie, the leader of the fan club- self-appointed- gasped when she saw him. He understood why she did that on the street but not why she was shocked to see him in his own home. Her gasp drew everyone's attention and the music dulled as Cherrie waved her arm at the DJ.

Nove smiled at her as thanks and looked to one of the new guests, a teenager who was obviously so overwhelmed at being there she as ready to cry. The girl was dressed in a short pink camisole dress with ribbon for straps, and shoes that must have been killing her.

On her chest was a pin with Nove's face on it; beaming a charming smile and wishing the best for everyone. The girl also had on her mother's diamond jewelry and clutched a sign in her hands, she obviously had thought it would be like a red carpet, where she would be ignored, allowed only to jump around in the corner, screaming out for just one second of attention.

The sign read: Hug please!!! Decorated in pink glitter. Nove 'Aww'ed at her as he crossed the room to where she was standing and gave her the cloying hug she so desperately wanted. He laughed gently as she squeezed tighter and the crowd ate the moment up like it was part of a new fad diet. She slid back from him, though she did not release his arms even as Cherrie tried to pull her back.

"Oh my god... I... I love you," she squeaked at him, already on the verge of crying.

Nove smiled the smile of the girl's button and chuckled, softly. "Thank you. You're soo nice."

She made a noise that was unfortunately becoming the soundtrack of his existence and stumbled through a few more words of devotion as Noce allowed her to take his arm and accompany him to a spot closer to the door and away from the areas he usually stuck to at these parties. He then thanked her for coming and said that he really needed to go and mingle with the other guests but, snapping his fingers to call Silas to him, added that his assistant would be personally seeing to any drink needs she had. After introducing the two and making sure that Silas knew the girl was under age, Nove turned his attention to the rest of the guests.

Again, he did not have a chance to locate new people before Cherrie pulled him up the stairs again, this time resting his hands on the steel bars facing the room, for a speech. He smiled out at the sea of faces, waving to no one in particular.

"When I lost both my parents," he began in the appropriate somber tone that hid the fact that he'd played a rather large role in their 'loss.' "I remember feeling adrift, and wondering what purpose I had. They were my heroes, my role models, and my guardians. I had looked to them when trying to figure out who I was, so losing them made me feel lost as well. Yet, I stand now with a sense of peace. They died together, as they'd have wanted, and I just wish they had lived to meet all of you- people who share their warmth and grace- and to know their hopes and dreams have lived on."

He raised his glass and saw his eyes sparkle on the brink of tears in the reflection of the chandelier. The room raised their glasses back at him. "To Antoinette and Lucius Embers, and their vision or a brighter future." The crowd clinked their glasses and drank in reverence. Now would have been the time for him to tell each group their assignments, but such a speech would be terribly more suspicious than the dead-parent speech.

He'd have to get people along later on. The idea was to make it look like there was a serial killer on the loose. Every team had been instructed in how to kill their target and what to take from them. Though, with new faces in the crowd he could not exactly throw his fist in the air and ask who wanted to go kill some people.

One face in particular caught his eye… well not so much the face as the feet. Nove’s bottom lip twitched involuntarily as he noticed the man who had shown up to his party without shoes or socks.

[B. B. Wolf]

Rave walked through the party wearing his dark purple suit pants and jacket with a black shirt on. The jacket had an oriental styled dragon stitched in it with black thread, and the soft material of the jacket and trousers seemed to change color slightly in the light. He also had a pair of mirror sunglasses to hide his eyes, but this was not uncommon.

In fact, Rave would have fit in normally- save the fact that he wore no shoes... or socks for that matter. The people around him either didn't notice, didn't care, or didn't want to notice. Upon looking at him, one might think him completely relaxed, even a little intoxicated perhaps, but they didn't realize that each move he made was clean and calculated. Any move he made he did with purpose.

He moved through the large crowd, talking and flirting with mostly random people, though a few he had met before. While he was talking to one man, he subtly reached behind him and squeezed a girl's butt. When she spun around, he looked quickly over his shoulder, smiled, and tossed her a wink. The young lady, an attractive redhead with pale green eyes, blushed furiously, but turned back to her friends and waved off the disturbance. Rave didn't give it a second thought until he felt something slip into his back pocket. He bid a quick farewell to the man he was talking to and snatched a peek at the slip of paper. It had a name and a phone number on it.

'Sweet! And those old codgers on the council said it was impossible to mix work with pleasure,' he thinks. Then he tosses another wink to the girl behind him, who blushes again, and moves once more through the sea of people dressed in their finest. For a moment, his features hardened as he remembered his quest.

Dragon Daemons were a rare breed of Guardian Daemon. While most Guardian Daemons were set to guard places, such as castles, businesses, or homes, Dragon Daemons had a much wider variety. One thing they were notorious for guarding was their wealth, but they tended to be the greedier type, and banks pretty much solved that problem. Besides, it wouldn't be very convenient to just leave millions of dollars in cash lying around in a cave.

So now, Dragon Daemons hired themselves out as guards of all sorts. Most popular was a body guard. But the thing that most sets them apart from other Guardian Daemons was that they had a charge. A specific person, place, or object that they had to guard. Some daemons are born with the knowledge of their charge, others wander around until they find it. Rave was doing the latter. He'd finally gotten a tip from the council of daemons that he would find the one he'd be guarding tonight at a party.

And so, he'd gone to ever party taking place, socializing with anyone he could to see if he could feel that tingle that would tell him, this is it! He wandered from place to place for nearly an hour, talking, eating, drinking. He was just starting over toward another group of people when everything seemed to get a little quieter. Normally, he'd pass it off as one of those moments where everyone quiets down because they just know somebody is going to say something embaressing, but this wasn't like that. This was an almost reverent silence. It was almost immediately broken by the gasp of a young woman.

Rave spun on his heels to get a look at his host for the evening. His smile faded almost completely. While what he saw seemed to awe some people, he merely saw the boy as an attractive youth flaunting his looks. Of course, Rave had never had a good opinion of models, and this one's face appeared everywhere. What really took him by surprise was the amount of charisma this kid just seemed to radiate. It was actually kind of... creepy.

Rave watched him with interest as he paid his attention to the young girl. He brushed past him once, just so he could get a feel, and he was almost glad to find that this kid wasn't going to be his charge. He relaxed a little and sidled up to another group, letting himself easily into the conversation quickly.

Then things got quiet again. He listened quietly through Nove's short speech, but couldn't suppress a smile when the boy models eyes landed on him. Or, more accurately, his feet. He caught the boys lip twitch ever so slightly. He wasn't sure why, but he was almost glad that had happened. When Nove went back down the stairs, Rave turned back to his group.

"Invigorating speech. That boy has a way with words, even so few," he says with a jovial look. If any of these people sensed any of the sarcasm loaded into that statement, they didn't show it.

[FangedSmile]

Hehe, no problem. Good posts, leaves way for another character!

--

Nove was quite aware of the fact that his speech was too short, but no one seemed to notice as he mingled through the group, checking in with the members of his secret cult. Murder was the furthest thought from most of the guests' minds, but there were just enough- about five or so- who seemed almost eager to start. Perfect.

"When, um... do you... do you think we should start our... um... mission?" asked a 'sly' underling, while fidgeting uncomfortably and moving his hand before his mouth. Eager, but nervous.

Nove, however, was a beacon of relaxation. "Don't be impatient," he lectured softly. "I promise you we shall start soon. Perhaps you can gather a few others and stay after the party?"

The man nodded quickly in response, and took a breath. He seemed to be more at ease, which was good for him because speaking of the mission in front of strangers was like walking to the end of a plank- it was asking for death- and the chandelier above him was swaying uneasily.

"I came with a few people," the man explained.

"Good, that works out nicely then, doesn't it?" Nove chimed easily, patting the man on the shoulder and ceasing the movement of the chandelier. The man, wearing the latest in fashion from France and looking to be a well-to-do designer, gave a flourished bow and swept over to another group of guests. Cherie was next to step up, hooking her own arm through Nove's and pulling like a child hauling around their favorite teddy bear.

She would never know how irritating he found her to be and as she marched from group to group she was more convinced that she was being 'in.' "The party looks great so far!" the brash red-head explained busily- smiling at those who looked her way. She was talking a mile-a-minute but being ignored for the most part. Nove was not yet sure what she believed she was. Not a girlfriend, yet more than a fan. Either way she would be fun to replace. She knew more than anyone did- about the 'mission,'- but her personality prevented anyone from really believing her.

She was the type of person who did not go a single week without meeting someone famous- who loved her immediately of course. She had met and be-friended top society- regardless of them even being on the island at the time she said she met them. As he was hauled around, Nove could not help but feel his allowance of her presence had been over-generous. She was half-way through a speech when he leaned in and whispered into her ear.

Five minutes later he pat her arm, pulled free from her frozen grasp and slid in front of some random female. He watched Cherie and to her the smile on his face was a mocking sneer. In a cartoon she would have become an ash statue that would crumble and blow away in the wind, but she was not so lucky. There would be no easy disappearance as she looked around and realized that those who looked at her did so with superior glances, like she no longer fit in there. They all seemed to know her time in the sun was over and she felt no pity.

Her breath caught in her chest, preventing her from exploding in rage. Yet as much as she wanted to scream, she also wanted to cry. The door was miles away and every second made the void around her grow larger. No one was standing near her anymore, no one talking to her or dancing with her. The music was mute and the lights were faded and she could either fight back the tears threatening to fall from her eyes or walk.

Pride told her not to cry, but Nove's eyes as he glanced over to soak in her misery, told her to get out. He seemed to be enjoying himself as the girl he had been talking to left to get drinks and he stood facing Cherie.

"I'll tell everyone," she snarled at him.

Nove shrugged. "I don't care," he assured her. With a wink he tossed any concern for here away and turned his attention towards the random girl he had decided would serve as Cherie's replacement for the evening. No second thoughts, remorse, or fear for the retaliation from the woman he had just scorned. He was sure there was a club out there she could join, but his fanclub far outweighed any anti-Nove club out there.

[B. B. Wolf]

Rave was chatting with a group of people close to the door when he saw Cherie suddenly by herself, as if the crowd didn't want to be near her. The expression on her face confused him for a moment, but when she talked to Nove again, even for just a second, he could tell something wrong was going on, not just with the girl, but with the whole party. He strained to hear what they said.

".... tell everyone!" she had said

"I don't care."

Just at that moment, someone directed a question at him.

"Hmm? Oh, no I don't expect there will be any rain tonight, heavy winds though. I know, the clouds look angry, but if it does rain, it will start probably around... oh, three thirty in the morning or so. Yes, yes indeed."

If they had said anything after that, he hadn't heard. He excused himself from the group he was with and made his way slowly to the snack bar. When he passed by Cherie, he gently slid his hand over her back and tossed her a wink and a genuine smile. Then, he ate a cube of cheese and washed it down with some strange drink that absolutely nobody could identify.

[FangedSmile]

Cherie turned two blood-shot eyes onto Rave, the only one to give her an ounce of sympathy. Just the brief touch and support was all she needed to collect herself and turn her new Gucci pumps towards the coat room. Hey eyes glared out at Nove, though she doubted the model would even glance over at her if she stood out on the railing of the balcony with the promise of leaping to her death.

The grabbed the teenager- her niece- and marched to the door. "We're leaving."

"Why?" asked the sixteen-year-old, still holding a drink in her hand.

"Because prince asshole is forming a murder cult," Cherie replied all-too-easily. Her niece just laughed, as did anyone within hearing range. Even Nove chuckled, though he was laughing at the reaction of the people, not the statement itself.

[B. B. Wolf]

At the murder cult statement, Rave actually paused in his consumption of snacks. Something in the way she had said that made it seem like a lot more than a joke. He narrowed his eyes slightly in thought, but put it to the side for now. He'd see how things turned out before he made any movements for or against anything.

He smiled again at Cherie as she passed by and bowed his head. When she had left, Rave observed the rest of the guests. One tried to bump into him "accidentally", but he was warded off easily enough. Rave looked him straight in the eyes and growled. A deep, rumbling sound that reminds one of earthquakes, only without the shaking. The man quickly skittered off.

Rave slowly shook his head in disappointment. He sometimes expected these models to be different from the stereotype, and sometimes they were. Of course, those few times were never any better. He downed the rest of his drink and reached into his pocket where he pulled out a pack of black & mild cigars. Putting the thin brown roll inbetween his lips, he lit it with... well, anyone else would assume a lighter, but it was really his finger. He exhaled once, then strode over to a window, where there was another group of social smokers. He kept an eye on the rest of the nights proceedings though.

[FangedSmile]

Cherie gone and haven taken the underage distraction with her, Nove turned his attention to the matter at hand. The group of people around him were people who considered themselves to be in society's most elite. They were fun toys. The man he had spoken to earlier was among them, looking nervous again. Too impatient, the man was obviously not used to doing actual work. He was an heir, after all, and all his money was his daddy's money.

Nove would not leave his party, he was a good host after all, but he was easily able to excuse himself and lead the anxious heir- whose name was something like Jupiter- and three others up the steel stairs to the platform he had been standing on earlier. He noticed the man without shoes was growling at guests, something to be dealt with later.

"Your target," he began, upon gathering everyone near the window where he could point to an apartment. "Is that fat disgrace of a human being. He funs some sort of vile little factory turning animal waste into a means of fuel. By no means does he deserve his money and he is just wasting it, and space."

The members nodded, their eyes locked onto the apartment their leader was pointing to.

"Good," Nove whispered, pretending to just be showing the view. "He gets home in twenty minutes... why don't you go wait for him?" With a suggestive wink, Nove directed the group to another room where an alarming assortment of weapons were kept- all wiped down so they could not be connected to the model prince in anyway. There he left them and returned to the the party- a perfect alibi. No one would even notice those people leaving, if things went as planned. They could wear the white coats in the weapons room during the murder, ditch the cheap cloaks afterwards and rejoin the party without anyone being the wiser.

[B. B. Wolf]

(hmm... I'm stumped for a bit, so unless anyone else wants to take this time to join in... *hint hint wink wink nudge nudge*)

[B. B. Wolf]

(... it would seem my hint has gone either unnoticed or ignored... bummer... anywahoos!)

Rave lifts his gaze until his eyes lock onto Nove's, an unerring smile covering his face. Anyone would feel nervous under that smile with the thought that he knew something he shouldn't. He reaches up and removes the cigar from his lips, the thick smoke swirling out of his mouth. A small circle of smoke floats from his lips. Then, pursing them, he shoots a smooth straight line right through the center of it. If any one had been standing behind him, they would have realized that the smoke ring circled Nove's face almost perfectly.

He wondered how long it would take before Nove realized that Rave knew some of the guests had disappeared from the party, especially the one who had been so fidgety every time he talked to the young host. He wondered how long it would take the boy to realize that Rave was a threat.

[FangedSmile]

(hehe, seriously, I was hoping someone would joooiiinnn! But feel free to play as more than one character if you wish, automatically approved.)

It wasn't long before Nove felt eyes upon him, only the feeling was more chilling than usual. His eyes drifted from the person talking at him and scanned the room, settling on the newcomer with no shoes. Something was wrong, or so was the feeling he got by the tightening of his stomach. The smile alone seemed to melt through Nove's usually well-maintained mask of confidence.

"Who is that?" he questioned Silas, who was at his side in an instant. "The newcomer who has yet to figure out I can afford to have the carpet cleaned."

"I don't know, sir," Silas admitted, checking the guest list. "Want me to ask him to leave?"

"No..." Nove's thoughts drifted to his cult members. "I want him to stay. Go get him." With that Silas was off, slinking through the crowd as a fox through tall grass.

He slid in front of Rave and offered a very official looking smile. "Hello...?" he greeted, reaching for a name.

[B. B. Wolf]

Rave looked slightly reproachful as the man stepped in front of him. But when he asked who Rave was, he merely gave him an apologetic smile (one might even go so far as to say a smile of pity).

"Sorry friend, I don't do one night stands, but there is a couple of ga-" he stopped as he realized his 'mistake'. "Oh! You wanted my name! Ha, how stupid of me, I'm Rave. Forgive me, I think this will be my last drink of the night," he says with a little laugh as his arm snakes around the waist of the woman next to him, a pretty brunette with a purple dress. He leans over and whispers conspiratorially in her ear. She giggles and blushes, but nods in agreement before reentering herself into the conversation with their earlier group.

Rave, on the other hand, takes one last long drag from his thin cigar, puts it out in a nearby ashtray, and blows the smoke from his mouth in a relaxed manner, some of it surrounding Silas.

"Now," he says in an authoritative tone, "What can I do for you?"

[FangedSmile]

If the decision had been his to make, Silas would have told the man to leave, and gotten Nove's bodyguards to help make sure that happened. The smile had vanished from his face without his knowledge and he snorted disdainfully at the smoke. Surely this unmannered beast did not deserve to talk to his employer. But, an order was an order.

Mustering up what he hoped was either a smile or a scoff. "Follow me."

He did not really wait for Rave. Instead, Silas spun on his heal and marched off, filling Rave's name into the guest list and adding 'Rude asshole.' All he would need to do is hold up the clipboard for a brief moment when he got back to Nove.

[ThatGuy]

With timeless eyes, Helios watched the intricate dances going on around him. All the young pretty people, talented or important, and those with enough money to pretend to belong to both groups, mixing and mingling and seeking to show up and show off. He could determine the hierarchy easily enough, as those of the most important were like suns who the others orbited around yet gave enough space to let them breathe.

He watched their host silently, seeming to be a statue. Nove was someone he always liked to see. The young man was striking, even after so many decades of seeing so many faces. Too bad the pretty face covered a shit personality. And it wasn't as if the fault lay in the kid's lack of moral guidance. He knew all the pretty words to match his pretty face, but when no one was around to admire his beauty he let his ugliness seep out.

Helios allowed the roo to flow around him as he watched, still undecided regarding his own intentions, then he broke into life again and smiled at a redhead nearby. She giggled and licked her lips subtly at him but for the moment stayed attached to her husband's side. Helios smiled inwardly before dismissing her existence entirely. Mortal women of weak morality were boring to someone eternal.

He saw a barefooted fellow being led to Nove, the man giving the air that he was the one doing the leading. Like someone out walking their dog instead of being reprimanded to the principal's office. Helios couldn't tell what was out of place but the fellow made him want to twitch and sneeze at the same time. The latter of which was odd seeing as he didn't breathe usually and therefore didn't need to worry about things like that. For the moment Helios was content to mingle with the crowd while watching over Nove.

As free as the young man liked to think himself to be, his life was spoken for.

[B. B. Wolf]

Rave caught a glimpse of what Silas wrote on the guest sheet next to his name, and he raised his eyebrows. Then he smiled slyly.

"Do you believe in fate, Silas?" he asked, knowing the man's name from other means than his celebrity. He stopped just in front of Silas, forcing him to halt as well, and to wonder how Rave had gotten in front of him. He narrowed his eyes as if studying the man in front of him, then smiled.

"You must ask yourself this, Silas, and when you do, you must also begin to wonder about your soul. Is it clean, is it torn from tragedy, is it... tainted?" Then he moved very close to Silas and whispered into his ear. "I can see into your soul..."

The subtle heat that Rave sent off caused a slight sweat to start. Well, he thought it was the heat at least. When he moved away, the top layer of the piece of paper beside his name was scratched off, leaving only his name, and no other comments. Whether Silas would notice this or not was a trivial matter, so Rave paid no attention to it. He merely smiled politely and left him standing there, then made his own way toward Nove, albeit slowly so that Rion could catch up if he deemed to.

He didn't notice Helios except in passing, where he was forced to move a bit closer than some people would deem comfortable, lest he knock over one of the roaving waiters, and he nodded at the vampire politely. The immortal's focus on their host was noticed and he had no interest in causing an issue- even if he personally felt the vampire could find better people to be around.

When he finally got to Nove, he gave the boy a professional smile and held out his hand.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, I do hate it when my name gets spelled wrong, no "i" or "y". Enough of that though. My name is Rave, pleased to make your acquaintance, Nove."

[FangedSmile]

Nove did notice when Silas was not the first to reach him, but that tended to happen with overeager people. His smile maintained the perfect mask that was his face and every movement he made was under mindful control. He wasn't someone who lied juts with their words, he did so with every speck of his being. He shook Rave's hand as it was offered and deepened his smile to create a warm atmosphere.

"I'm sorry," he stated in a tone that only sounded sympathetic. "I'll remember that for next time." Of course, he knew this man was not on the list or that he would ever be responsible for sending out invitations, but the people around him always cooed when he took responsibility for the mistakes of others. "And I regret if you were pulled away from your friends, I just have not seen you before and wanted to extend a greeting. I hope you're enjoying yourself."