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=NYC= Sweet Basil - Greenwich Village - Manhattan
Undoubtedly one of the finest jazz clubs to be found in the southern sectors of Manhattan, and most definitely in Greenwich, Sweet Basil has seen the faces of some of the greatest jazz legends to cross the planet in its time. A relatively down-home charm manner of club, low-key and looking as though it belongs more in New Orleans than New York, many evenings can simply be wasted away being serenaded within the walls of the Sweet Basil, which, in turn, are plastered with black-and-white photographs of the legends that have graced this club's demure little stage and polished wooden floors.
Sweet Basil is gearing up for the weekend crowd with a low key jazz trio, trumpet, trombone and bass. Their sound is soft and mellow, background for the chatter of patrons who have dropped in for dinner and drinks - and the occasional table stolen for private work. The jazz club is far from full, but neither is it empty, and waitresses keep up a merry pattern between tables as they work the floor.
Natalie is tucked away at a back table, far from the stage and under one of the lamps set into the wall. The glow of her laptop provides most of her working light, and her fingers tap quickly across the keys in a rhythm that clashes with the low throw of the bass on stage.
Alexis has been to the jazz club a couple of times before and tonight was just a need-a-mellow-moment night for which the club's atmosphere was perfect. She's dressed well enough to fit in, with a sleek black dress and shall over her shoulders and arms and heels. Her hair is pulled back into a neat ponytail and make-up done nicely, -almost- covering what's left of a bruise on the side of her face. She's at a small table by herself, reading a paperback book while she eats some dinner.
Amandeep is...not technically 21. So, she's not pushing it...she managed to get in, but her drink is strictly non-alcoholic. She is, after all, here for the music, to which the young Indian woman is currently listening in silence, a root beer settled, half drunk, on the table in front of her, along with a couple of plates of snack food.
Zenith is the opposite of Natalie, near the stage, and apparently quite interested in the music. Her dessert is half-eaten in front of her, and she plays with a glass of wine instead of wielding a fork. She's not dressed up, but certainly not down, either, in her flowing dark green skirt that swirls around her ankles as she absently recrosses her legs, still watching the band without focus.
Travis is at a table, back to one wall facing the room, per usual habit. There's a half empty tumble with melting ice and the remnants of some drink or another. Two menus occupy the table, and he watches the band, gaze occasionally flitting between the three and the room's other occupants.
Natalie glances upward, and there's irritation in her gaze as it sweeps the room in search of a waiter. She goes so far at one point as to lift her empty glass and rattle it, ice cubes clanking against the edges.
There is an Ismen here. The second seat's occupant for Travis' table wanders in as fashionably late as her clothing is simply fashionable. Tall and exotically good looking, wrapped up in a long white wool coat and her own self-absorption, she unbuttons the coat and lets it swing wide as she threads the narrow passage between the tables. One of these is Amandeep's, and the purse floating wide with the unfastened coat connects with her root beer, knocking it over across one of the plates of snack food. Ismena moves on, without a backwards glance. "Travis," she greets her companion with dialed-down pleasure as she reaches his table. "I would apologize for being late, but you know I wouldn't mean it."
Waiter oblivious to the rattle of Natalie's glass, he sails right past her to one of the other tables in his care, pulling up to Travis' side. "Do you want something more to drink while you're waiting for your other party?" he asks, slightly skeptical on the subject of whether or not Travis' date exists.
Except there's his date. The waiter slinks on.
Zenith listens intently to the music, undisturbed by both ill-managed coats, and rattling glasses. She has all the needs, and so ignores everyone else, finally taking a bite of her neglected dessert.
The klink of te knocked over glass briefly catches Lex's attention and she lifts her gaze which falls upon Ismena easily. The woman's aloof attitude and elegence is a rare glimpse for Alexis and makes her lips tiwtch to a smile. This is why she loves places like this...it's almost like being part of some old black and white film.
Amandeep focuses, for now, on the music, her eyes half-closed...she would close them altogether, but then she might be inadvertantly rude to somebody. A sip of her drink is taken, dark eyes finally open the rest of the way to glance over at the rattling glass.
"Ismena," Travis greets, standing and sweeping around the table to pull out her chair for her, a grossly exaggerated show of chivalry. "So glad you could make it. Dinner wouldn't be nearly as enjoyable without your company."
Amandeep focuses, for now, on the music, her eyes half-closed...she would close them altogether, but then she might be inadvertantly rude to somebody. She reaches for her drink...only to find her glass has been knocked over. Not a surprise, in this crowd. Dark eyes open the rest of the way, hoping to locate the culprit and favor them with a withering gaze.
Alexis shifts her gaze from the elegant couple to Natalie. "Um..." Her gaze quickly sweeps the room and then back to the woman at the next table. "Uh yeah. They're around, but they-" At this she gives a slight nod toward Ismena and Travis' table, "-probably just look like bigger tippers." She smiles. "I think you've gotta just get their attention."
"Of course it wouldn't," Ismena agrees, bestowing an overwhelmingly European pair of cheek kisses upon Travis before deigning to settle, dark eyes dancing. "And if the young muffet over at the table back there actually shows the initialtive to come over here to accost me for spilling her drink, I think I shall pay for -our- first round. Bet?"
Natalie's gaze follows Alexis' just in time to hook on Ismena and her friendly kisses to Travis' cheek. Her lips press into a thin line as she straightens. "Hrmph. Well. They'd best not get their hopes up," she informs the other girl spitefully.
"I think you chased off our waiter," Travis says, slipping back into his own chair. "Now that he doesn't think I was stood up, he may not be back for an hour. Which is to say," he says, glancing past Ismena toward the spilled drink. "It might actually give her enough time to gather her courage and let me win that little wager."
The door opens, graciously held by a chivalrous hand. The man is tall, dark, and young still, with college student written all over him. His expression is of the heavy sort, given to frowns, but for the moment is is arranged in a smile for the woman he leads in, a hand at the small of her back. "Here you go. Sweet Basil."
Freeing her attention from whatever clouds it was floating in to eat brings Zenith to earth sufficiently to notice that there is something of interest to watch with her music. She doesn't have the whole story, but there's certainly a spilled drink to be dealt with, and someone she recognizes at length, though she makes no move to wave or stand and greet Natalie. Instead, Zenith scoots around in her chair to face that corner of the room and just watches.
Amandeep does not come over...rather, she looks at Ismena, fixing her with a glare...that she's apparently practiced quite a bit, otherwise, the slender young woman's appearance seems to be...cool, calm and collected. As if not letting it get to her.
The girl who follows the lead of his opening is petite, dark-haired to match her boyfriend, although her face is drawn and pale and her steps, though sturdy, are unhurried. She pauses just inside, waiting for the support of a hand at the small of her back, and glances around the restaurant slowly. "It's nice."
Alexis smiles to Natalie with a little mischief to it. "Hey, don't worry about it. You just need more attitude when you try to grab the waiter. You're supposed to be snooty in a place like this, they expect it. They respect it. Watch." She sits up straight in her chair, striking a flamboyantly pompous pose and a straight mouthed, smoldering expression. She is studying for acting after all and she's due for a little fun. If she can spot one of the wait staff, she lifts a hand to the air and says, "Excuse me. This lady has been waiting an exceptionally long time for her glass to get your attention. I find this lack of prompt service unacceptable and I will have to make a note of it in my column."
Natalie's brows slide up and she turns to settle her gaze more fully on Alexis. "And you think they actually buy that?"
Ismena's mouth forms a small moue, mock-regretful, as she looks to where the waiter is not. "A -thousand- apologies. But," she notes, as the backsweep of her gaze takes in Amandeep and her glare. She smiles in return. "I think I'll still win our little wager, even with the added time. There are those who act, and those who only sit and glare."
The wait staff pays attention to Alexis, sure enough, but the attention the she gets is of the amused sort from a woman of middling age who pauses between tables to turn and take in the show. "Sure. Who do you write for, again? You're not one of the usuals."
The hand remains at the small of the woman's back as the man takes her coat and passes it off along with his own. "Yeah. Usually have live music," he says. His name: Chris. His occupation: Jerk. The hand is more than support, it is also direction; he pushes her ever so slightly forward until someone takes them to a seat.
Travis is in a better position to get the full effect of the glare. "Yes, but remember, I cheat," he informs Ismena solemnly, before his lips turn up into a mocking smile, offering a cheery little wave toward the scowling Amandeep.
The smile? It's returned, with a different kind of smile. The sort that doesn't reach the eyes and, indeed, might border on a snarl. Primate signals. At least the root beer is not all over Amandeep's clothing. Or there would probably be a fair amount of meowing going on.
And now, I a little byplay between Natalie and someone also familiar--Zenith frowns to herself a little--and one of the waitresses. She resettles in her new watching position, chin in hand, and leaning a little forward to catch anything that can be heard over the music.
Alexis continues to play along with her act. "Of course I'm not!" She states cooly, "if I'd been here before, I wouldn't just be reviewing you now, would I? You'll know who I write for when my reivew comes out. Oh yes. Now, would you kindly get my friend here her drink." Now by this point, she is purely acting and while she speaks with laughing, her eyes glint with amusement.
The mousey woman, hair tucked back in a ponytail and coat pulled tight around her, bobs an overly appreciative nod. "Oh-- oh, yeah. It's really nice." Sarah's gaze slides up to her boyfriend's, seeking approval for her approval.
It is with a skeptical cluck that the woman on the waiting staff moves off, disappearing only for Natalie's waiter to swan out a bit later. He avoids looking toward Travis and Ismena, and rather places a filled glass at Natalie's side.
Approval she gets, Chris' features warming in a rare smile. "I'm glad you like it." His hand slides up from her back to her far arm, and he squeezes lightly. "Glad you came." He sees her seated, first, pushing in her chair, etc., before he takes his own seat opposite her. "I have no idea what's good here, though."
"You know they didn't believe you for a second, right?" Natalie wonders of Alexis, although there's a quiet smile in her voice as she straightens-- new glass accepted with a flickering glance upward.
"As do I, my dear man," Ismena reveals, the python to the lone wolf, with a smile shared between predators. "But what," she wonders, plucking up one of the menus and trailing one long finger down it. "Is our little bet up to at the moment?"
Alexis gives Natalie a sheepish look as the woman leaves, but then regains her smile when the waiter brings the drink. "Score!" She cheers for herself, although under her breath as not to completely give herself away. "Who cares? It worked didn't it?"
"Oh, well, I'm feeling much better today," Sarah hedges, hand sliding down in search of Chris's other, tactile support. "I'm sure it will be good. I think they're supposed to have nice soups?"
"Dining by obnoxiousness," Natalie weighs thoughtfully. "Well. It's got its ups, anyway."
Chris laces his fingers through Sarah's hand, squeezing briefly before shaking her loose with a shift of his shoulders. He settles back with a nod. "Okay, soups, then. You want anything to drink besides water?" he asks, leaning forward to look after their waiter.
"The first round plus appetisers," Travis decides after a moment. Amandeep's snarly smile is returned with a widening of his own, a nod of recognition, then he reaches for the menus. "Anything worth mentioning in your life, lately?"
Amandeep has gone back to mostly listening to the music, although she keeps one eye on Ismena. A true shame her powers are not really suited to subtle revenge. Now, she is trying to catch the waitress' eye, no doubt for a refill. And pointedly ignoring Ismena and all with her.
Sarah's eyes glow quiet excitement as she glances up to her boyfriend, hand pulling back to rub awkwardly against her jeans. "Maybe one of those banana martinis?"
"That sounds gross," Chris says with a frown. FROWN.
Sarah's voice is hesitant as they swerve toward a table. "I like them?" she offers up, as much question as statement.
A conversation close enough to eavesdrop, and Zenith finally avails herself of the opportunity. "Some other fruit might work better," she suggests in Sarah's direction, with amused meddlesomeness.
Alexis shrugs, "Aww, It was just a little fun. No harm." Her gaze wanders back toward the intriguingly elegant couple at another table, only wishing that she could hear what, she imagines, must be some wonderfully poignant conversation about life, or travels and excitement.
"How about some other fruit?" Chris says, latching on to Zenith's suggestion with a nod in her direction. His gaze is briefly speculative on the subject of her breasts -- then he looks back to his /date/.
His date is frowning as she watches her boyfriend, although she swiftly wipes the doubt from her expression before he can catch her at it. Sarah slides into her seat in silence for a moment and then offers tentatively, "I like bananas."
"What kind of martinis do you have?" Chris asks of the waiter when he arrives. When his first suggestion is the dashing and exotic lychee, Chris looks back to Sarah. "How about that?" he /suggests/.
"It worked," Natalie acknowledges again, and once more her gaze follows Alexis' toward Travis and Ismena. Her frown reappears.
"Some fruits are harmed by the transition to martini-dom, I think," Zenith says, speaking less to Sarah and more to her date this time, leaning over her elbow a bit to lower her neckline. Her smile makes it clear she does this only because she has nothing in particular else to occupy her attention, and she's curious to see what happens.
"I--" Sarah is halfway to objection when she notices Zenith's lean, and her frown reappears as she leans forward to snatch at Chris's hand across the table. Her voice drops meekly. "Ok. That sounds good."
Ismena looks over her shoulder once more, only to find Amandeep remaining disappointingly uncourageous. With a mock-pout, she turns back. "Agreed. I really feel she's yet another of the cattle-class," she appraises. "Too timid to leave the secure herd of convention and manners to settle how she's truly feeling. But worth mentioning... well, I -did- meet a rather interesting fellow in a bar, the other day. Terrorist sort." Interesting conversation indeed.
Chris' gaze gets momentarily lost in Zenith's cleavage, but the grasp of his hand and Sarah's agreement is enough to bring him back to her. He smiles again, benign approval. "Good. I hear they are the newest thing, really good. Two of those," he makes his order, "and then whatever your soup of the day is." He squeezes Sarah's hand.
Alexis continues to chat with Natalie, "I bet they're talking about traveling to Paris-Maybe on his private jet- where they can wake up in some little villa over a bakery to the smells of fresh bread and coffee and then go strolling down a little riverbank where he can propose." She smiles to herself, watching Travis and Ismena with a glimmery, dreamy blue eyed expression.
That distracts Travis for the moment, his eyes lifting up from the menu and ideas to egg the target on. "Oh?" he encourages further elaboration. "A terrorist. How fascinating."
"I bet they're both assholes," Natalie opines shortly, voice gone more than a little blatantly bitter.
Another look--success. Attention returned to date--less so. Zenith definitely does not pout, but she keeps her attention on Chris, with the sort of stare that is designed to make someone turn and give their attention just out of reflex.
"Oh? Yeah. Yeah, good," Sarah answers, smile back and beaming bright despite the tiredness that shows in her eyes. She holds back a cough and squeezes Chris' hand firmly.
When his date coughs, Chris' expression turns slightly uneasy, and his gaze slips away from her and finds Zenith again. Eye contact is made this time, instead of cleavage-to-eye contact, and he gives her one of his /brooding/ looks that he's so good at it, and tries to smolder. The waiter comes back with the drinks and ruins it, so he watches as the glasses go down between the two of them and gives Sarah a nod. "There you go. Try that."
Sarah's gaze settles on Chris, striken as her fingers wrap automatically around the stem of her martini glass. She remains silent, grip tightening-- and then suddenly martini spills around her fingers, coating them in sticky-sweet alcohol as liquid glass settles in a flood on the tabletop.
"Victor Creed, of the ridiculous alias of 'Sabretooth'," Ismena answers, with a reflectively poisonous little smile to herself as she notes Travis' attention switch. "He invited me to visit him at an apartment he keeps."
Chris startles back with a curse bitten off his lips. "Careful!" he yelps, reaching forward to right the glass and clean the spill -- and finding instead more of a puddle. He gives Sarah a /look/.
Alexis looks more fully to Natalie now, lifting her brows, although just slightly since the tug at her skin sends a reminder that the marred piece of her flesh still hurts. "Why do you think that?"
"Because I know that he is," Natalie answers Alexis, turning her gaze on the younger girl with an abruptly chipper and wildly bright smile.
His look can't compete with Sarah's look, which is pure horror. Wide eyes fly up to her boyfriend, begging for understanding as she begins, "It wasn't-- I don't know what--" Excuses don't go far, however, in the wake of the table, which begins to slither away under her touch, crumbling from the top down in a shower of sandy sawdust.
Zenith blinks in surprise at the reformed glass. "That's an interesting talent," she comments, just nonchalantly, but her attention is very much no longer with Chris. When the table starts to decompose, then she moves, scooting back a little in surprise. "Careful," she repeats. Helpfully.
Alexis blinks at Nat. "You know him? Oh..well..yeah I guess explains it." She shifts another glance toward Travis, surverying him again as if trying to pick out the 'asshole' gene from his features. But that doesn't last terribly long sine now the disapearing table?! catches her attention.
"Shit!" The curse escapes that time, and Chris leaps back before he can come into any sort of paranoid radius, backpedaling away from Sarah. "You just--!"
"Asshole," Natalie confirms, firmly, until yet again her attention follows Alexis'. She blinks slowly.
Sarah, in contrast, moves forward toward her boyfriend, hands stretched toward him in pleading. "Baby-- It's not me! I swear, I'm not making it--" As Sarah stands, the chair beneath her collapses into splinters.
"Don't touch me!" Chris says, a note of panic driving his voice higher and louder.
Lex's eyes widen with curious suprise, but her expression quickly melts into pity at the woman's pleading attenpts to calm her boyfriend. She bites her lip, eyes darting between them.
Zenith stands up too, trying not to look scared, or even particular bothered, but relaxing immensely once she can balance on the balls of her feet, ready to move in whatever direction is needed whenever she wants.
Travis chuckles at that, then with a last glance, he closes the menu and sets it aside. "That must have been an interesting occurence. Given what I've heard of him..." he says, his voice dropping lower. "I imagine you had more in common--" Whatever the rest of the thought is, though, it's cut off as the rising voices and commotion catch his attention. "What have we here?" he asks his date, stretching to peer past the other tables to the source.
Chris is not the only one whose reactions bubble with fear and uncertainty. Their waiter is long gone, hiding back in the kitchen and making a call on the phone. The patrons at the tables nearest theirs have stood up, and most of them are backing away. "What is she--?" says one woman, fading off as a man across from her pronounces, "Mutant," in tones of deep disappointment.
Sarah's arms pull back, tucking tightly around herself as she stares helplessly at her boyfriend. Her breaths are coming shallowly now, and cracks begin to spider through the tiled floor in a web that starts directly under her feet.
Amandeep is on her feet, it taking all of her willpower not to, well. Vanish. It's very tempting, she glances around to see if anyone is looking at *her*. She'd like to be able to, maybe, come back here, and poofing might get in the way of that. Of course, she would also like to stay alive.
"What--" Natalie's voice hitches in a swiftly indrawn breath as she stares at the lovers and then glances swiftly toward Alexis.
"I think I may have to take him up on the offer," Ismena reflects. "While he's out, of course. Interested in rifling through a terrorist's--" But the outcry reaches even Ismena's determined little bubble of reality, and so she turns in her seat to see for herself. Sidelong, the slow, spreading smile of sheer delight remains visible to Travis. "Oh," she says. "-Yes-. This is even better than our lone little thing."
"Shitshitshit," a young woman chants, watching as the cracks spider up to her feet. She leaps back with a squeal, knocking into Natalie's table.
Subtly, hopefully not noticably in the general commotion, Zenith's feet are no longer touching the floor, by a matter of half an inch or so, but hopefully taking her out of the path of any affect transferred by that medium.
Chris stares at Sarah, a little bit horrified. "What's wrong with you?"
Alexis looks back to Natalie and shurgs helplessly before returning her gaze to the woman and the crowd. She stands up too and tries to encourage some calmness quickly to the woman who backed into Nat's table, although her own voice is still rather small. "It's okay..I mean, she isn't hurting anyone..."
"Wrong-- Chris--" Sarah's hands unwind as she steps toward her boyfriend, breath hitching in threat of a sob. Her steps gain momentum as she chases after him in panic.
The girl turns 'round to stare at Alexis. "Did you /see/ what she did to that -- to everything?"
Chris is /gone/. Soon as Sarah turns toward her, he skips backward, and then again, turn around to try to jam himself through the crowds, passing Natalie and Alexis and little Miss Horrified with an expression to match hers. "Don't! Just -- stay away. Okay? Stay there. Don't come near me."
As Natalie's table goes rocking, her hand flies protectively to her laptop and it takes only a moment before she's bending to slide her books into her bag. "Yeah, not the sort of show I was looking for," she mutters.
Alexis counters, "yeah..but..that's just stuff, not people and-" She cuts off, glancing back to Sarah and her date as she pushes his way through.
"So much better," Travis agrees, his eyes bright with entertainment. "Let's up the stakes, shall we? Brace yourself," he mumbles across the table, before leaning back in his chair. Bam. Fear. Panic. Uncertainty. It's not any one set emotion, but a mixture, settling on different individuals in different ways. At any rate, the desire to run is certainly building, as the emotion wafts past the tables closest to him, beginning to fill the room.
Zenith does take a step back, on air, but the fear takes hold of her just when she was holding back a different impulse. A small gesture of a hand held slightly towards Sarah, and Zenith attempts to stop her from taking her damage anywhere else and spooking others, gravity pulling strongly enough at her alone to make it hard for her to move.
Sarah is desperate now, ducking her head in shame at the stares fixed on her unintentional show, and sobs break their way out as she chases after Chris with hurried steps. She stumbles as she goes, shoving past Alexis and shooting a hand out for support atop Natalie's table as she goes after him. The former's sleeve shreds away and the flesh underneath disentegrates with rapid, painful speed. The wound is several inches across where Sarah's arm brushed, rotted muscle leaving bone visible in one place. The latter melts into a liquid pool of metal and plastic that floods across the table to drip on the floor, and still Sarah moves unheeding toward Chris.
Scared already, it becomes panic under pheromonic influence: people rush for the exits, propelled all the faster as one woman shrieks, "She killed her!" in overreaction to Alexis' injury.
Ismena's breathing quickens, lips parting and pupils dilating as the waves of raw, terrified emotion ripple and crash against her and around her. A non-standard reaction, to say the least. "We should all get out of here!" she calls out, native Greek accent fuzzing at the words as she shouts, volume undoing the smoothing of education. "What is to stop her from destroying us all?"
Natalie glances up to catch the melt of her laptop just as Travis's empathic control hits, and panic sets in as she stumbles back to stare at what was once her work. "Oh-- oh crap. Fuck. What the hell--"
The door is crowded, not meant to accommodate such a crush outward. There are bruises to be had there, too. A fire exit is thrown open, leading out into the alley, and the fire alarm begins to sound. A few creep out through the kitchen.
As for Chris, he comes to a horrified stop, back to the wall.
Ok, well now that changes things. Alexis lets out a shrill cry of pain as she stares in unbelieveing terror at her arm. She steps quickly backward until she hits a wall, holding her injured arm up but her other hand shaking to mucha nd afraid to touch it. tears well up and rolls down her face as she becomes rather oblivious to the rest of the panic.
Zenith whimpers, and tries clamping down harder, shoving at the gravity to /hold/ Sarah /there/, and now probably make anyone around her feel decidedly heavier.
Travis is going to have a monster headache in the morning, but oh, so worth it. His space against the wall keeps him neatly out of harm's way, and he continues to flood the room fear, raw and primal. Fight or Flight.
The scene is thus: panic. Doors are crowded, all of them, and the fire alarms shrill with the fire door to the alley violated by the flow of people eager to get away.
A circle of emptiness spreads from one young girl, dark hair. Table, chair, glass: reduced to bare bits, they scatter in a spill of dust and a puddle of silicon. There are cracks in the floor, spidering out from each step taken, and a laptop has been reduced to a puddle, spilling over a table. The girl's attention is fixed on a man with his back to the wall, breath held.
Amandeep has never wished so much that she could teleport something other than herself. And the fear? Well...the reaction is ultimately inevitable. Hopefully, nobody's looking straight at her when, with a faint 'pop' and an inrush of air...the girl *vanishes*.
Sarah halts in the face of gravity, and her inability to move only incites more panic. The cracks underfoot splinter ever-more wildly, splitting the floor in great upheavals while Sarah, little mousey, uncertain, unhappy Sarah, sobs in the middle of the room.
Natalie's gaze shoots sideways at Alexis, panicked and worried as the press of gravity tugs her downward. Her breaths gasp inward before she asks in a rushed exhale, "Are you ok?"
Too hard to hold such concentration against the fear, and Zenith's hold breaks quickly enough, spinning on her cushion of thin air to press for the exit with everyone else, but then to flip up to the ceiling, out of the way, out of the reach of harm, since she can't move fast enough on the floor.
"Sarah," Chris says, pushing away from the wall one slow step at a time. His feet drag, and breath comes at a cost. "What /are/ yo--?" He doesn't get the next question out. The release of gravity causes him to propel forward through his next step, stumbling toward Sarah.
Against the flow, a flashing badge - a shiny bald head. A voice cursing and grumbling and shoving its way in through the door to end in a disheveled Vincent Lazzaro being deposited right into the thick of things. Suit rumpled and dark eyes already a bit wild, he freezes upon spotting the situation's source.
Sarah stumbles likewise, eager and quick with tears that stream hot down her now-flushed face, to grab Chris in a clinging embrace.
Ismena will undoubtedly bring over painkillers and fresh juice in the manner of a cozy, maternal... reptile. Right now, however, her eyes gleam and she stands from her chair to set it before her, a flimsy barricade against the crowding, pressing throng fleeing any which way but towards Susan and the circle of decay surrounding her. "She'll destroy us all!" she repeats. "She's going to kill that man!!!"
Chris tries to wrench himself away from Sarah, but just succeeds in falling to the side, tumbling to the ground and hitting head and elbow on the table in passing. "Don't--!"
Ismena will undoubtedly bring over painkillers and fresh juice in the manner of a cozy, maternal... reptile. Right now, however, her eyes gleam and she stands from her chair to set it before her, a flimsy barricade against the crowding, pressing throng fleeing any which way but towards SARAH and the circle of decay surrounding her. "She'll destroy us all!" she repeats. "She's going to kill that man!!!"
Alexis remains backed against another wall, sobbing as fear and pain keeps her held to the spot. She is just staring at her arm where the skin has been-well not cut, but dissolved-and blood seeps down the length of her arm. The upheavel of the floor is the only thing to break her intense fear-striken stare and she screams again.
The crowd thins rather drastically as people finally make it through the doors. The inner noise fades as someone finally kills the fire alarm, sounds from outside begin to intrude.
Caught up in the flail of limbs, Sarah falls with her boyfriend, and every moment that she touches him a little bit more of him disintegrates. Flesh falls away from arms and midriff, leaving gaping holes that curl blackened at the edges and eat away, further and further. The curve of one rib becomes visible, and still Sarah clings, sobbing uncontrollably, to Chris.
Wordless, but not breathless, Chris screams.
There's nowhere else to go from the ceiling, and Zenith is too fearful to think far enough to leave it, so she presses herself flat, and screams too, when she sees what's happening to Chris, down below.
"Hey-- hey-- are you-- oh fuck." Natalie's gaze goes blank for a moment as something flickers in the corner of her eye. Ghostly forms, mingling with the exiting crowd. In the confusion, probably unnoticeable to most, and Natalie swings her bags up to head for the exit at a near run. Alexis is left to fend for herself.
Alexis now watches Chris and Sarah, unable to pull her gaze from the horror of watching what must soon be the man's slow death. No matter what terrible things she's seen in the past..nothing /nothing/ even comes close to this. Jaw parted, eyes staring, unable to think or hear or feel anything else, she watches.
Fear and adrenaline jolt as one, and in the blink of an eye, Vincent has jerked the ominous black of his glock out and around to bear directly upon Sarah. Flesh is falling away, darkness spreading. Ghosts. Breathing hard, arms and shoulders tensed to steel, he pulls the trigger once. Twice. Three times, in rapid succession.
Chris stops screaming, unable to draw a full breath with chest cavity decayed from outside-in; his sounds fade, as does his flailing, only able to emit little hiccups and gurgles of panic as the shots fire over and past him.
Okay, about enough. After several minutes of exertion, Travis is near exhaustion. The production stops as the sound of bullets ring through the air, although it will take some time for the fear factor to clear the room. He sits in his chair, daring a glance toward Ismena, then back to center of action.
"Chris?" Sarah calls wildly, pupils dialated in fear. "Chris? Bab--" She falls back on a choked sound as a bullet catches her in the chest. One, two, three, and by the time Sarah hits the floor behind her, nothing more is rotting away. From the mousey girl, silence.
Chris bubbles, but, eventually, that too fades and he lies next to Sarah in silence.
Ismena is very still and very poised, as the world becomes full of screams and the scent of cordite, eyes riveted to the spot where first Chris and then Sara breath their last. The concussion as one body hits the floor where two once stood stirs her to life, however, and she rises and runds the table with movements as smooth as one of Natalie's ghosts through the eerie hush that follows. One hand, now gloved, to Travis, and she turns a smile on him, well pleased and nearly sweet. "I believe we have played our part tonight... shall we leave them to their confusion?"
Zenith ducks and covers--irrationally, given that she's on the /ceiling/. But when the gunshots and screams from the couple fade, she still has her arms wrapped tightly over her head, as she's pressed against the ceiling.
Vincent stands where he is, not moving. Not breathing, until a shiver rattles down the length of his spine, and the gun is lowered. He steps in the direction of the fallen pair, left foot creeping in before the right, gun barrel trained back upon the girl when she sees fit to twitch.
Alexis cringes at the gunfire and, shaking uncontrollablly, she finally manages to begin to move and creep back away from where the people, nothing more than bodies now, lay. The pain in her arm is almost subdued by an intese feeling of nu,bness throughout her whole body and mind. Almost. Shakingly, she reaches up to her shoulder to remove her shawl and wraps it around her injury.
Travis gets to shaky feet, partly act, partly fatigue, glancing toward one of the doors away from the chaos. "I'm so glad you were able to join me for dinner," he comments, nodding toward the crowd pushing out the exit of choice. "Yes, I think it's time to slip out for some fresh air."
All doors, sadly, are blocked. Uniforms stand outside, helpfully collaring people on exit that they might begin questioning.
Ismena nearly fusses, looping one arm beneath shaky shoulders in far more physical contact than she normally ever offers. Well pleased, she regards Travis with bright eyes and sidelong as they make their way to one of the exits...only to be bogged down in the line beginning to form up thanks to effective policework.
Zenith sits up--or down--slowly, and manages a deep breath before looking around. She notes the policemen in the doorways, and watches them, trying to check if any see her. Or would, if she jumped down. Deciding not to chance it, she scoots back into a corner, to wait it out.
Due process. It begins here.
Medics arrives to find two counts of too late and a few minor injuries from the stampede for the doors, and a woman comes up to Alexis to kneel down next to her and begin to speak to her in quiet tones. A few other uniforms wade into the mess, avoiding the circle of destruction surrounding the bodies to find people hiding in corners and begin to question them.
A professional tip of his shoe against Sarah's head sees it lolling lifeless aside, and Vincent shivers again before flicking the safety of his weapon back on and pushing it back into its holster beneath his jacket. A uniformed officer steps in to lead him off to a quieter side of the building by the shoulder.
Alexis looks at the medic, hearing her, responding to her questions, although she'll recall very little of it all later. She allows the woman to check her injury over, staring at it again with disbelief. Surely she'll be ushered off to a hospital and she's not it a place to object to it, so off she'll go.
As much as she might like to go unnoticed, alas, it is not to be, and Zenith obeys a command to come down when it is given, to take her turn with questioning.
For Amandeep, the good news is she's not being questioned by the cops. The bad news is? She didn't steer her disappearance too well. About half a block away, she can be seen climbing out of a dumpster. Hoping not too many people saw that...or she could be having *real* problems.
Travis and Ismena have a very normal dinner. For them, at least.