10038/In the Club

In the Club
Date of Scene:	14 November 2019
Location:	The Tunnel - Midtown Manhattan
Synopsis:	Byron and Riana meet at the club, stories are told, a walk is had, and both of them forget winter is cold.
Cast of Characters:	Byron, Wild Rose

---

Byron has posed:
The Tunnel had a little bit of a retro feel to it, sort of late ninties chic, the sort of place you'd expect to see Neo and Trinity walk past you in. Still, it was miles better than some of the trendier spots, and best of all most of the guests didn't really give a damn who Byron was. Oh, sure there'd been a couple of selfies and a signed boob or two, but that had been the end of it.

Indeed, Byron had ditched most of his enourage except for a bodyguard, Ramon who lurked nearby but generally gave Byron space as he pressed the flesh, chatted and danced his way through the club to the bar.

Breathing out a sigh, and wiping his hand across his sweaty brow, he waves to the bartender. "I dunno... something refreshing," it was the wrong sort of night for sucking back whiskey. "Anyone got any reommendations?" he asks his fellow patrons as he grabs a couple of napkins to dab at his chest through the deep v of his shirt.

Wild Rose has posed:
     "Nothing wrong with a beer," came an unfamiliar voice, from just down the bar to Byron's left. It appeared to be from a woman in no more than her mid-twenties, with titian tresses and... freckles. Oh god, the freckles. No amount of makeup could hide them, nor could the sage green of her eyes be missed as she peers over at him. Her hair is kept long and loose, and she is wearing the staple of women's closets everywhere--the ubiquitous little black dress. In this case, hers was a mildly racy number, with spaghetti straps and an A-line skirt that came to mid thigh. Her shoes were plain and simple as well, basic flats that look as if they could match well with just about anything. There is a curious lack of jewelry or other ornamentation, and her black leather purse looks as if it's been well-loved over the course of a few years.

Byron has posed:
Byron had just turned away in his scan about the bar when Riana speaks and he turns back to face her, "A beer?" he says, with an easy smile. "A bit pedestrian, but why not," he says as he hops onto a bar stool next to her. "Bartender I'll have what she's having," he says pointing to Riana's glass. The bartender gives a thumbs up and gets pouring.

"So what did I order?" he asks her. Sure a beer, but there were tons of options these days.

Taking a moment to take in Riana's ensamble complimented with the swath of freckles, he smiles, "Pleasure to meet you, I'm Byron," he says extending a hand.

He makes up for her lack of jewelry, wearing three rings, a pair of metal bracelts and a beaded necklace with some sort of silver charm that hangs at the hollow of his chest. The jewelry fits his general Bohemian vibe, a loose cotton shirt with a deep V neck, tight leather pants, shoes with heels and a navy blue long coat that he somehow manages to make look stylish instead of 'would be flasher'.

Wild Rose has posed:
Riana Mackenzie extends her hand in kind, curling her fingers around his. Her grip is strong, her hands far from being entirely smooth, but there is an odd sort of... restraint... about her, as if she were instead a fighter pulling their punches. "Riana Mackenzie, and you just ordered yourself a Sam Adams." Okay, so perhaps beer was a little bit pedestrian, but it was a tried and true staple throughout the ages for a reason, right?

"So, Byron... what brings you here?" She gestures to the room around them. Each gesture seemed to contain little extraneous movement, yet maintained an odd sort of grace, perhaps even power held in check.

Byron has posed:
Byron let's that handshake linger as he feels that restrained power in her hand weathered hand. His own hands are mostly smooth except for some guitar callouses on his fingers and posses a bit more strength than his wiry frame might suggest.

"A lovely name," he remarks casually as if flattery falls easily from his lips, "And I am going to go out on a limb and say your family's Scottish?" he says grinning, between the last name, the hair and the freckles it was hardly a guess. The beer though gets a touch of a face before he brightens and says "Why not!" as the beer arrives. "But I insist on ordering us our next round."

"You mean what's a majestic man like myself is doing in a place like this?" he asks with a massive serving of irony as he chuckles at himself, "Honest answer? I was bored and I haven't been here in ages," he says fixing his attention on Riana, "I know, terrible mundane, how about you? Tell me I've wandered into some great story, that you're here at this bar on a mission to save the world, or better still, waiting for some lover to sweep you off your feet."

His eyes dance with amusement, if anything's for sure about Byron he does love the sound of his own voice.

Wild Rose has posed:
Riana Mackenzie lets forth a short bit of laughter. "About near as I can tell, yes. Always meant to ask my da about the family tree, but I never really got around to it. It might be interesting to see where that leads someday."

The callouses on his fingers are not lost upon her, and she quirks one eyebrow. "Musician, by any chance? That would be more of a story than I have to tell. No lovers, no grand mission, unless you mean the one to slay the demons of boredom." Her voice bears no burr, no trace of a brogue that might suggest recent contact with the Highlands--only the lilt that suggest she was probably raised not too terribly far away.

Letting a man buy her a drink? That could not end well, but one drink, could it hurt? One shoulder comes up in a half-shrug, her rosy lips curling upwards in a wry smile. "I won't argue this time. Thanks."

Byron has posed:
The laughter is met with a grin, "Well, I'd say it's a fair chance, been through Scotland a time or two and I'd say you've got the look," Byron says. "Well if you and your da need some help in finding out more, I know a man that can likely point you in the right direction." After all Connor had been around for a lot of later Scottish history.

"Got it in one," Byron says as she guesses his profession. "Something of a success at it too, couple platinum records, sold out tours..." he drawls on good-naturedly. "Really haven't heard of me?" he asks more facinated than offended.

The bit about having no story to tell only makes him laugh, "Well then, the night's a blank page then isn't it? We shall have to write our own story, two souls alike in boredom meeting by chance at this charming little club... There I've got us started, and we'll just have to see if it's a comedy or a tragedy we're writing."

"This time?" Byron asks with a grin. "So, I should expect a stronger and stronger argument with each successive round?" he teases. "That could be interesting."

Though he does raise his beer then in a toast, "To the first round," he offers.

Wild Rose has posed:
Riana Mackenzie shakes her head, a light bit of color coming to her cheeks as she is forced to admit her ignorance of him. "Sorry, no. I hope that hasn't upset you or anything. But guessing by those callouses on your fingers, I'd say you play a lot. Mostly stringed instruments, but which one?" Her fingers lack such dead giveaways as that, but the rest of her is well-toned, a hair more muscular than a swimmer's physique, and much less obviously so than a bodybuilder's. "Mostly I listen to classic rock, a little of this, a little of that. Maybe run a few of your song titles by me? I might know them and just not connect a name."

The offer of assistance with her family tree earns Byron a light smile, and she dips her head towards him. "Thanks, I'll keep that in mind." Short, quick, but sincere.

"The night's a blank page, just as the world's a stage, or something like that?" She rolls her eyes a little but and chuckles softly. "Perhaps, perhaps not. Time will tell." Dear lord, she had a smoothie on her hands. It would not do to let him catch her off-guard.

Byron has posed:
"God no," Byron says as he sets down his beer, about being upset, not the drink, "It's refreshing to be a stranger to someone and not be loaded down with all those preconceptions," he says. "Though will need to confiscate your phone so you can't Google me, and spoil the fun."

Though he does offer, "Guitar, but I'm mostly a vocalist," he says, "And writer," he adds. "Love classic rock myself, studied all the greats, Hendrix, Jager, Morrison... And as for my musical catalogue, well, let's leave it a secret for now, rather enjoying you not knowing who I am," he offers with a wink.

"Something like that," he agrees as he takes another sip of his beer, studying her intently, "So, you've figured out what I do, now the question is what do you do, when you're not out on the town with strange but dashing men... I admit, I am not able to put my finger on it, and I'm usually very good at this sort of thing," he looks her up and down, "You definitely take care of yourself, but you're not underfed and are far too interesting to be a model, maybe a dancer? See? Completely lost at sea here."

Wild Rose has posed:
Riana Mackenzie chuckles softly and shakes her head. "No, not a dancer. Not unless you count martial arts. A very deadly dance, that, so in a way, you weren't too far off." The pounding music thudding around them has her rubbing her temples lightly, the woman closing her eyes momentarily and taking a few deep breaths as if in meditation. Each inhalation has her relaxing just a bit more, and she can open her eyes again a minute later. "Sorry," she offers. "Had a little bit of a headache there."

A light smile plays at the corner of her lips, as she peers curiously over at Byron. "Oh please, not even one or two songs? Surely a man of your talents wouldn't mind being somewhat lauded for them? Hmmm?"

Byron has posed:
"Ah, a fighter hmm?" Byron says giving Riana an up and down look again. "I could see that, do some boxing myself and fencing, and they are in their way like dancing," he says before frowning with concern at her sudden headache. "Hopefully I'm not to blame," he offers lightly. "Though if you'd like to find somewhere more quiet to talk I'd not be adverse."

He laughs as she presses him for the names of his songs, "Fiiine, I did write and sing "Forever After" and "Addicted" very different tracks, but they're my most popular." The first is a bit of a goth-rocky piece that was big about eight years ago, "Addicted" was more recent and more personal comparing love to drugs and vice versa, a more traditional rock and roll ballad.

"Ring any bells?"

Wild Rose has posed:
Riana Mackenzie nods, her eyes lighting in recognition of at least one of those titles. "'Addicted' sounds somewhat familiar. I kind of tend to go for that style of music anyways. Don't ask me to sing it, though, I'd clear this place out and shatter every piece of glass in it if I did!"

Riana shakes her head. "No, you didn't do anything, but I'm wondering if maybe talking somewhere a little quieter wouldn't be a bad idea. It's kind of intense in here."

Byron has posed:
Byron grins, "I don't know," he says talking over whatever electronic dance number that just started playing, "That might be an improvement over their usual fare," he says of the shattering glass.

"Glad to hear it," Byron says of not being to blame for her headache. "Been known to happen, I do talk a lot," he jokes easily at his own expense. "And now we're faced with an interesting turn in the story of our evening," he says falling into that whole blank page business from a few moments before. He downs his beer and sets the empty glass on the bar, "What sort of quiet do our protagonists seek? A private room in this club, a drive in the car waiting for me outside, a walk through Midtown or marvelling at the view from my home?" he says before adding, "Not our only choices of course, but they were the first to pop to mind."

Wild Rose has posed:
Riana Mackenzie chuckles, and makes a show of steepling her fingers across her lips, lightly tapping the tips together. "A lady who was to throw caution to the winds might opt to let fate decide. A prudent sort might opt for a walk through Midtown. I suppose it depends on the gentleman's intentions, doesn't it?" Though her tone is lightly teasing, there is a slightly steely note that brooks little nonsense, and a surprisingly piericng look in those sage-green eyes. "What do you think, oh co-author of the evening's tale?"

Byron has posed:
Byron continues to grin "True, true," he agrees with those first two assessements, enjoying this little game to pass the evening. As for the third remark, the gentleman's intentions, the steely look and firmness in her tone is noted and his expression becomes a little more serious if still smiling.

"My intention is to slay the demon of boredom," Byron says honestly and easily. "If we slay that demon by walking through the city streets fencing with words like we have been so far, or naked and sweaty in one of our beds, or something in between I am all for it as long as the demon is slain. So, my intention, though there might be some debate to whether I am gentleman, is to have a memorable evening by whatever terms we decide."

Wild Rose has posed:
Riana Mackenzie laughs, leaning back slightly and lowering her hands, the twinkle in her eyes taking the sting out of the words just spoken moments ago. "Well, I'll give you points for honesty. Way too often in these places, there's only one thing on the mind. At least it's not the only one on yours." Her fingers curl about her pint glass, and she peers into the bubbly amber brew within; it's a hue not unlike deep Baltic amber, with a thick head of foam that leaves a bit of a moustache behind when she takes a sip. "Do I dare to ask which of those options appeals most to you, then?"

Byron has posed:
Byron laughs to see her laugh, and makes a bow from his waist when he's lauded for his honesty, "I know I look all fresh faced and innocent," he winks looking like neither of those things, "But I'm old enough to know the best parts of a person aren't kept between their legs and a person can have as much fun with their clothes on as without, as I say, I'm all about slaying the demon, however that happens."

When asked the question, Byron leans back in his seat, as if giving it deep and serious thought, "Well all things being equal I'd say seeing the view from my place, unless we're talking walking, sex, or something in between, and I'll tell you why. One, it's comfortable, two, I can play you some of my music, as you've obviously been deprived of it for entirely too long, and three if it does come to the sweaty stuff, it's a good deal more comfortable than any of the others."

He grins at that, as if not taking his own list all that seriously, leaning forward to take a thumb, if she'll let him to wipe away that moustaches in a long slow motion.

"Only have one rule though," he says, "No falling in love, I know, I'm dashing and you're amazing, but I'm a rockstar and you know, have to keep up the whole mystique. I draw the line at wonderful evenings," he says both serious and joking all at once.

Wild Rose has posed:
     Riana gives Byron a long, searching look, though the severity of her expression softens with a smile, as he brushes away the bits of foam clinging to her upper lip. "As you said, the best parts of a person are not between their legs. I might occasionally say to students, 'If anyone can't bother with what's between the ears or in the heart, they don't deserve you'."

     More laughter bubbles up from within her, and she shakes her head. "I'll never accuse you of false modesty, that's for sure. Why don't we start with a walk, and see where things go from there?"

Byron has posed:
Byron manages to look perfectly innocent as Riana's searching look delves deep. He chuckles when she finally smiles, "Was wondering if I was about to get a demonstration of your art there for a moment," Byron says with a grin.

When the walk is decided upon, Byron rises from his seat and with neglegance as to which bills he's throwing, throws a couple of bills on the bar. A twenty and a ten for one beer...

"Well, I'll agree with you on what's between their ears, but hearts..." he makes a face. "Hearts are nasty things so full of complications," he chuckles.

"And you have students?" he asks as he reaches behind the bar for the gold topped cane he'd had the bartender stash there for hm. "And what art do you study? I never asked."

He does pause things there for a moment, "One sec," he pulls out his phone and fires off a text looking across the bar to his security man. He shows what he's typing to Riana given how it might look to have a guy secretly watching them at the bar. The text reads: Good for the night, enjoy yourself.

He hits send and drops a hundred dollar bill on the bar, to cover Ramon's evening.

"Sorry, my security man, part of the rockstar package I'm afraid, and just horrible for walks through the city at night."

He offers his arm, "Shall we?"

Wild Rose has posed:
Riana Mackenzie nods slowly, brushing a bit of fiery red away from her face and tucking it behind one ear. It looks as if her earlobes might have been pierced once upon a time, but the marks are faint, hinting at a span of time without adornment present. "Occasionally, I'll teach youth," she offers. "Tang soo do. I started when I was eleven. Got a bit of a lucky break, so I like to pass that on."

The bills tossed so carelessly on the bar earn Byron a raised brow, and a quirky smile. So, too, does the text message, which leaves her with a touch of color in her cheeks that shows easily in her pale skin. But she does thread her arm through his keeping a grip on her purse for a walk through the streets. "Then if that's how it is, so be it. Yes, shall we?"

Byron has posed:
Byron takes note of Riana's ears, which combined with her lack of other jewelry is noteworthy, so as they walk arm and arm out of the club leaving Ramon behind to enjoy himself, Byron comments.

"Korean yes?" he begins with the art. "And is that why you don't wear jewelry? Part of the discipline? Not giving your enemies something to hold onto?" he asks her.

The rest though isn't missed, "A lucky break, how?" he asks as they step out of the dark and noise of the club into the light and relative quiet of Midtown at night. Byron lets Riana set the direction, following easily along arm in arm.

Wild Rose has posed:
Riana Mackenzie lofts an eyebrow, a pleased smile and a nod offered in Byron's direction. "Got it in one. You'd be surprised how few do. Second dan, myself." As the night cloaks the pair with relative quiet and the oncoming chill of winter, a light shiver courses down her spine. For a moment, she debates the wisdom of taking shelter at his place; it had not been quite this cold when she entered the club earlier that evening.

"Yeah, a lucky break. Would you believe the church my family attended in Danvers was holding a raffle for a few free lessons? They were going to make a donation to a local shelter. Anyways, I took a chance and lucked out. It kept me from going to a very dark place." She leans in a little closer now, winter's icy fingers walking up and down her spine, relentless.

Byron has posed:
There is a hint of triumph in Byron's eyes as he guesses the reason for the lack of jewelry. "What can I say, I am amazingly inutitive," he jokes lightly. "Now dans... other than being a depressingly average name for a man, they're ranks aren't they?" he asks with a smile.

"Well, definitely got more from church than I ever have," he remarks as he unhooks his arm from hers and puts it around her shoulders instead. "Did get a little cold on us didn't it?" he asks before returning to her story. "And oh? What sort of dark place did it save you from, if you don't mind telling me that story. You won't offend me if you don't, I am always curious about other people's darkness, it's so often something they try to hide."

Wild Rose has posed:
Riana Mackenzie grins at Byron as he guesses correctly, nodding. "Got it right again. Second dan is a second degree black belt, and that's the point you can become an instructor if you want. There's ten dans, but very, very few ever make it to the tenth." The warmth of his arm around her is a welcome change from the cold, and she finds herself leaning in a little bit more.

However, it doesn't quite banish the momentary shiver that runs through her, or the brief, faint hint of indrawn brows. "Just a couple years before that, my ma forgot about her wedding vows, and left my da for his best friend. Former best friend now, I should say. It kind of tore me up inside. Learning the art gave me something better to focus on than being mad at the world for what happened."

Byron has posed:
As Riana leans into him, Byron welcomes her, pulling her a little closer so they can share each others's warmth. He grins as his guess proves correct, amazing what you can remember after a couple hundred years, "That's very impressive," he says in earnest. "So, will you be pressing on past the second now that you've gotten there? Or is it and the chance to pass on your good fortune the goal?"

There's a hitch in Byron's step at the mention of Riana's mother's infidelity, something he attempt to cover quickly with a look down at his bad leg, "It does that sometimes."

"That must have been difficult," he offers. "Especially being someone so close to your family. How did your father take it?" there seems to be genuine curiosity there, after all Byron had been on both sides of that coin before, the one cheating with a married woman, and the one being cheated on.

Wild Rose has posed:
     "I hope to advance, yes, though that takes a while. It's two years from the Cho Dan rank to E Dan, which is where I'm at now, and from there it's another three years to Sam Dan. So the studies can go on for quite some time. It took longer for me than some to reach black belt, for... reasons. Reasons I haven't even told my kin, and god willing, they'll never know." Riana lets out a soft little sigh, but quickly smiles for Byron's sake, tipping her face up to look at him for a moment.

     She nods lightly in answer to his question. "It was difficult," she offers. "Da never remarried, and as far as I know never even dated again. He had my sister and I, and that was enough for him."

Byron has posed:
"Oh?" Byron asks when Riana brings up having reasons for her slow progress, ones she hopes her family never discovers, "So not being part of your family, do I get to know the reasons?" he asks her.

The look tipped up at him is met and held on Byron's part, even as another chill breeze rushes past them, "I am sorry to hear that, it sounds like he loved her very much," he says as he lifts a hand to brush a few stray strands of Riana's hair from her face.

He quirks a smile as he asks, "Not to distract from this topic, but I think I'd like to kiss you now if that's alright?" he asks matter of factly, his eyes falling to her lips. "If you don't beat me up first that is."

Wild Rose has posed:
     "Why would I do that? All I'd have to do would be walk away, and it's unlikely you'd be able to stop me. There's no need for violence." Riana's breath catches in her throat for a moment, and she smiles. One hand comes up to lightly brush against his as he almost tenderly brushes those wayward wisps away from her eyes, her touch gentle but again with that restraint.

     "Maybe one day, I might tell," she muses, her voice dropped to a soft murmur. "You've guessed well so far, I wonder if you can guess again?" She doesn't pull away, intrigued by the one holding her against winter's chill.

Byron has posed:
Byron chuckles, "Perhaps I'm hoping for violence," he teases before shaking his head and lifting a hand, "Don't worry, I'm really not, haven't been into that sort of thing for years."

Though he's quickly moving past that subject, to let his fingers brush against hers, those musicians' callouses brushing against her smoother skin.

"Hmm, mind if I guess afterwards?," he says a little distractedly as he leans in for that kiss, his hand cupping her face as he does. If she doesn't walk away as she joked about the kiss is warm and soft in the winter chill, almost chaste at first but quickly growing in depth and passion.

Wild Rose has posed:
     Like a spring breeze at first, the kiss began to blow warm through the icy chill that held the city in an iron grip. But as the depth and passion grow, Riana leans into the kiss just a bit more. A hint of the beer that both had been drinking lingers upon their lips, adding a hint of hops and a bitterness that offsets the sweetness of the moment quite nicely. While there is still that sense of restraint, it's perhaps a little bit less guarded than before, the red-haired woman even inching just a little bit closer.

Byron has posed:
Byron is content to revel in the kiss hops and all. He feels the restraint there and while it piques his interest, he doesn't try to urge her to push past it, instead he savours the kiss a little while longer and slowly, dragging her bottom lip between his teeth, he breaks it, but keeps Riana close, still sheltered from the cold wind that continues to buffet them through the warm embrace.

"Mmm," he says with a cheeky smile the glint in his eyes suggesting he quite enjoyed that kiss. "How about we get ourselves out of this cold for awhile, hm?" he suggests quietly.

Wild Rose has posed:
Riana Mackenzie nods slowly, her teeth now starting to chatter despite the warmth of the shared embrace. One could only stand so much of winter, and enough was enough! Practicality overrode good sense, and she burrowed in against Byron for warmth. "L-let's go... is your place c-close...?"

Byron has posed:
Byron frowns and shakes his head, "East side," he says regretfully, "But, hold on." Keeping one arm around Riana he digs in his pocket for his phone and fires off another quick text.

They really hadn't gotten far from the club, and the car and driver he'd engaged for the evening was still waiting outside. It doesn't take long for the town car to pull up to the curb.

"This part of the rockstar package does come in handy," he remarks with a smile to Riana as he bends to open the door and let her in first calling to the driver, "Crank the heat all the way, man, we're freezing to death out here."