12366/There can only be one Alpha in NYC

There can only be one Alpha in NYC
Date of Scene:	21 October 2020
Location:	Club Evolution, Mutant Town
Synopsis:	Andrea meets Bigby and square off to see who has the biggest teeth.
Cast of Characters:	Rage, Nightingale, Bigby Wolf, Cannonball, Barghest

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Rage has posed:
Club Evolution. Mutant Town. It's the hot spot in this small neighborhood for the freaks, weirdos and misfits that society has casted out based upon a twist of DNA. Tonight, the crowds are full and full of energy as music rumbles through the speakers. The club is dimly lit, save for the flashing lights that strobe along the dance floor to create a symphony of shadows dancing along the walls from the many bodies filling the room. Currently The Weekend's hot track Blinding Lights is playing, an uptempo R&B groove.

Out on the dance floor is Andrea, who certaintly doesn't lack her share of partners for the night as she waits for Jay to get off work. She has too much energy pent up and in need of a release, and the young man in front of her can barely keep up to the trained professional performer. She doesn't mind, as half the thrill is showing off, the other is just having fun and meeting new people.

Tonight she is wearing a hits at the knees black skirt along with a shimmering purple tanktop with multiple colored bangles along one wrist that sparkle in the flashing lights. She has just enough style in her hair to be trendy and a hint of lipgloss. If she wasn't so well known in this particular club, she could pass for any other young college girl out on the night.

Nightingale has posed:
     One particular mutant seems to have joined in the dance--or at least appears to be making the attempt. Standing at about average height with long, pale gold hair, she isn't lagging too far behind Andrea. Of course, she's a tiny bit out of step, but at least is making the effort. Clad in black leggings, stylish but comfortable black boots that fit like a second skin, and a long black tunic, belted at the waist and bedecked with a fringe of glittering jet beads at the elbow-length sleeves and hem. Tucked in at her back are a pair of large, snowy white, feathery wings, which do not seem to hamper her in her attempts to dance.

     Grinning over at Andrea, she calls out, "You know, one of these days I might actually be able to keep up with you!"

Bigby Wolf has posed:
There's really too many people in this place, and it is /annoying/. Annoying enough that for a moment, the large man who just passed the door seems to hesitate. He's wearing casual clothes, probably requiring a good washing. Beige shirt, dark pants, nothing remarkable. Nothing really to be noticed in a normal crowd, the like you'd find in less fortunate suburbs. Here? He's totally noticeable among the fashionable clients.

With a shrugs of the shoulders, Bigby quickly looks around, with a longer look over the dancing floor, then decides to move toward the bar. Easier said than done, making your way in that crowd.

Bigby finally reaches the bar, lucky enough to find an empty stool. As soon as he gets the attention of the bartender, he orders. "Whisky. Double."

Rage has posed:
After giving a quick spin on her feet, Andrea turns towards Shannon as she giggles at her. Reaching out to grab her by the hand, she pulls her closer to dance with her. "You just need a couple thousand hours with my chorgegrapher! Or at least one afternoon with me." She continues to move as one song melts into another, carrying along the same energetic beat as they rumble through the speakers. She can see the flashes of camera phones upon them at times, something that she has grown used to over the years being born and raised in the spotlight.

At the bar, Bigby is passed over the whisky from the tender who moves like a well oiled machine to help the many customers. It also helps that he has four long arms that can seemingly stretch quite a bit up and down along the bar. He's the new guy tonight. 'Stretch' they call him. But not Armstrong. He takes offense to that.

Nightingale has posed:
     "Ha! Either way I'm going to need a long soak in the tub after!" Shannon retorts, letting Andrea lead the dance. It does become a bit easier, and she grins, letting the music carry her. "I might actually take you up on that. If I'm gonna train anyways, might as well do it doing something fun." It seemed as if perhaps she wasn't entirely helpless on the dance floor, though her prowess was a long ways off from the popstarlet's level.

     Still, it did draw a bit of notice, with a bit of cat-calling, whistling, and the occasional crude remark here and there--all of which she duly ignored, focused simply on enjoying herself for a change..

Bigby Wolf has posed:
Reaching for his pocket, Bigby frowns as he produces just enough cash - his last actually - to pay for the drink. Dang pricy place! He'd have three of them for that price in his neighbouring.

"Shit, this one will have to last," he groans under his breath. Instead of gulping it down, he'll have to nurse it. Fuck.

As Stretch reaches for the money, Bigby puts his large hand on one of the tender's arms.

"Hey, do you know a gal named Andrea?" he asks him.

Of course he could find her, with probably not much efforts. But this place is really overloading his senses. Perfumes, cologne, sweat, people not as clean as they'd like others to think, all this is getting on his nerves. He already hates that place.

Rage has posed:
There's an amused look upon Stretch's face as one of his many arms lift upwards and gives a long pointed finger towards the dance floor. "How can you miss her? She's the center of attention. The one dancing with the angel."

By now, most of the spotlights have focused on the pair of mutant girls as the crowd claps along in time of the music. Andrea is in her element as she twirls and moves along with the ballad of What's Love Got To Do With It by Tina Turner, except this time it's remixed to a high energy song with a bit of a dubstep backbeat. She even lets Shannon take the lead so that she can follow along with her movements, though she adds on her own flair of pop and lock at times.

With the crowd growing into a delicious frenzy, she soaks up the attention and lets the crude comments slide off her like water on a duck's back. It's nothing she hasn't heard a thousand times before and it's just white noise in the background of a revel. Reaching out to take Shannon by the hand, she pulls her close into a spin, followed by a playful dip backwards before drawing her back up. As she turns, she drops down knees to floor before rising upwards, allowing the curve of her rear to tease upwards along her friend's hips.

The crowd /roars/ at the display. Poor Sam and Jay. They're going to hear about this later.

Nightingale has posed:
     Okay, now that little take-a-knee maneuver did catch Shannon off-guard, to the tune of much laughter and twirling a step or two away as if it were always meant to be part of the dance. She's gone red clear to the tips of her ears, but even her wings furling around her now wouldn't save her.

     And just why -should- she be embarrassed, anyways? For once, she was dancing well, and it felt fucking /GOOD/. One song melted into another, though, from dubstep to classic 1980's with a driving beat, killer synth, and epic vocals. With little flicks of her hips, sinuous, more subtle movements with a fair bit of sensuality, this particular song seems to move her as few that night have.

"Sweet dreams are made of this
Who am I to disagree?"....

Bigby Wolf has posed:
This is Mutant Town, a place Bigby visits occasionally, mostly on business when he's after some crook. A four-arm tender won't impress him, compared to some of the /clients/ he's used to deal with. He looks in the direction indicated by the tender, over the dance floor.

For a moment, Bigby watches the two dancers, no visible emotion in his eyes, no lust, no desire, no nothing. With the Eurythmics and their bloody dreams replacing Tina Turner, Bigby sighs, gulps down the whisky despite his previous decision to nurse it. And stands. There's no way he's gonna stay in this place any longer than necessary.

With an agility that might not seem compatible with his frame, Bigby moves toward the dance floor, stopping just a few feet from the two women dancing. Then he crosses his strong arms over his chest, and stares at Andrea. So close, he can't be mistaken. It's Andrea.

Cannonball has posed:
Samuel Guthrie has been out, seems he took time to grab a meal somewhere besides the Club. He comes back in walking in like he owns the place, which he almost kinda does. He heads to the bar, his eyes scanning the room, checking out whats going on, looking to make sure no trouble brewing, when he sees Andrea and Shannon he may frown some, but as the man heads tot hem and stands, his frown deepens, and he will start making his way that direction quietly.

Rage has posed:
As the music of the Generation X crowd rumbles through the speakers with the backing of today's synthronics, Andrea is in zone as she rocks her body side to side. Her dark hair whips along her shoulders as she throws her hands up and over her head to cross her wrists together to form an 'X'. The crowd is clapping and cheering for the pair of Xavier girls who are dominating the conversation. With one polished and one raw, there is two kinds of energy between them that just seems to go together perfectly.

The next song bleeds over into Rabbit Junk's hit: IDon'tGiveaFUCK. It's an adrenaline song, designed to ignite fuel in the veins and create an explosion of the heart. Giving a lick along her teeth, she lets out a loud noise of appreciation to the DJ. One fist gives a circling pound of the air as her body spins around, coming face to face with Bigby.

She takes a quick step back, nearly bumping into Shannon before she catches herself. Her brows raise up at the older man as she stops dancing. The crowd gives a curious noise as they look from the two girls to the man. There is a slow tilt of her head, one that has that 'bitch' side-eye for a moment before she starts to sway again. When the song 'hits', she turns her back to him, stepping forward towards her friend once more as she goes back into the swing of things.

Nightingale has posed:
     Something about the wall of muscle and hair that loomed before the two girls just seemed to scream 'danger'. It was enough to make the hairs on the back of Shannon's neck stand on end, and her wings start to flare out to their full span. She, too, gives Bigby a long, hard look, eyes narrowing ever so slightly as she sizes him up. For a moment, it almost seemed like David versus Goliath, with the tension becoming thick enough to cut with a knife.

     The knife, as it turns out, is double-edged. One edge is Andrea, and the other is Sam's timely approach. As she twirls away from Bigby, Shannon waves to Sam, smiling broadly, "Come join us!" she calls out, laughing. "DJ's really on point tonight!"

Bigby Wolf has posed:
Oblivious of the crowd looking at him, Bigby stands there. Impassive. Everything about him says that he's on a mission. No matter how the music annoys him, his whole body attitude testifies that he's not going anywhere soon.

Andrea tilting her head wasn't lost to Bigby. Simple gestures that mean a lot among them. In return, he puts his hands in his pocket, a very slight relaxing of his whole body attitude. Might as well not look too intimidating. Tension is filling the air quickly, the shit could hit the proverbial fan.

"Miss Jackson," comes Bigby low rumbling voice, loud enough for her to hear him, "I'd like to talk to you." In an attempt to diffuse the tension, he makes a mental effort to add, "Please."
Bigby looks at Shannon, with what he hopes is a complete non-menacing look and calmly says, gesturing towards her wings, "There's no need for this," he says in a low, calm voice.
If they don't get that he's not on the hunt, nothing will convince them.

Cannonball has posed:
Samuel Guthrie comes walking up, hearing the last bit. He will offer a nod to Shannon and Andrea, and looks to Andrea and asks "Trouble?" He stands there turning to look at Bigsby waiting for an answer from Andrea, but he does seema little tense, perhaps protective of the two girls.

Rage has posed:
"Miss Jackson is my mother's name." Andrea calls out over her shoulder towards the large man as she whirls around in time of the song to face him once more. She settles her eyes straight into his, putting a bit of power behind her stare as the wolf rides her hard just below the surface of the skin. Shannon and Sam has seen that look from her before. She may be an eighteen year old girl, but she is also an Alpha, full of Rage.

"I don't even know who you are, mister. Why would I just go off and have a talk with you? You're kinda too old for my fanbase unless you're wanting an autograph for your kid."

She gives a glance over towards Sam as he looks to interject, her arms folding over her chest as she stops dancing.

Nightingale has posed:
     Shannon mutters a few oaths in German--truly, a perfect language for such things--as she twirls about to catch that look on Andrea's face. She'd seen it before, in the field, and it usually spelled trouble. Folding her wings in tightly behind her now, she keeps her arms in a relaxed pose, her whole body warmed up and raring to rumble from all that dancing. Her own pale azure eyes have gone from twinkling with enjoyment of the moment, to a much colder, harder light that should not be present in a girl of her evident youth.

     However, when Bigby made a point of voicing his intentions, and non-belligerence, she shrugs, glancing over at Sam. "Don't know yet. Hope not." For now, she seems to be standing down, yet remains alert.

     Looking back at Bigby, she takes a moment to size him up anew, her finely arched brows flicking briefly upwards. Something about him echoed the strength she had witnessed before in Andrea. "My, what big eyes you have..."

Bigby Wolf has posed:
"I'm way older than you can imagine," comes Bibgy's low voice.

Bigby then shakes his head, sighing. This isn't going as planned and if he's not cautious, this place could quickly turn into a blood bath. And this other guy - Sam - is also moving toward them. Nonetheless, Bigby moves inches closer to Andrea, careful to remain at arm length. He can feel her tense, heck, he can smell her, her real self.



"I'm Bigby Wolf," he says, visibly unsure if she knows the name, and most importantly, who he really is.

Then... he grins at Shannon, showing just the tip of his canine. A true grin, almost friendly. Adding a flicker of his yellowish eyes for a moment, a display of total control over his powers.

"You see Andrea, I look after... my /friends/. You ain't one of them, but I'd like to fix that. We have /much/ in common."

Given the crowd and her friends around, he could not really /show/ her his true nature.

Cannonball has posed:
Samuel Guthrie frowns a bit and says "She has quite a few friends, who have her back." He has not caught the wolf bit, but he is in big brother/big brother in law mode, and that may cause it. He will keep his alert up, and once he knows Andrea is looking the other man over, he does scan the bar, to see if wolf may have obvious back up.

Rage has posed:
Pressing her lips togther in a thin manner, Andrea stares at Bigby for a long moment before she cracks her neck to one side. "Of course you are." She gives a glance over towards Shannon and Sam for a moment before she swivels her gaze back to the larger man.

"Fine, let's sit and talk then. I got some VIP seats that will give us some privacy. My friends may wanna tag along though. I'm also not into tail sniffing or any of that circling shit that is done in the wild. This is New York City." Giving a flip of her hair over one shoulder, she offers up a quick grin towards her friends, then strides past them out of the circle of dancers.

"Heel." She calls over her shoulder, a hint of frustration in her voice. She was on a dance high and she has to come down from it now.

Nightingale has posed:
     "Hey, with that dance earlier, fine one to talk about... never mind." Shannon rolls her eyes and chuckles. She was probably going to be in enough trouble for that one as it was. No sense making it any worse.

     The flicker of Baltic amber light in Bigby's eyes earns another quirk of her eyebrows. The winged teen just nods once, flashing an almost friendly smile in turn. Whoever this was, had some powers of his own. Could it be he was potentially a fellow mutant? There was no point in being other than civil, at least not for the moment. "Deal with one, you deal with the pack."

Bigby Wolf has posed:
Ah! So what he heard about Andrea was right on the spot so far. Temper, spunk, attitude. Bigby likes the pups to show some pugnacity, they have better chances of survival that way.

As he follows them, he takes good notice of her friends and how protective of her they are. Something that Bigby also appreciates, even if he can't really name a lot of friends of his own.

"I don't /need/ to snif anyone," he corrects Andrea as he walks along her, "As for the wild, circling is the last thing I do, trust me."
There he goes, he /had/ to at least show some dominating attitude. Just a little.

Cannonball has posed:
Samuel Guthrie hmms a bit more at this perhaps catching on a bit, maybe not. The young man will motion and one of the waitresses and sends her to meet them at their table, and take their orders.

Rage has posed:
Once she settles into her spot at the VIP booth in the back, Andrea reaches for the bottle of water that she left behind and twists off the cap to take a sip. She is practically glowing with sweat from the last hour of non-stop dancing out on the floor and mixing it with the crowd. She tucks some brown hair back behind her ear, leveling her eyes at the older man.

"So, what is this? You got some wolfy radar or something and wanted to check me out? It's not publicly known what I am and I'd like to keep it that way."

Sliding her hand into her purse, she takes out her phone and sends off a quick text to her brother who's loitering about in the club, then settles it next to her bottle of water.

Nightingale has posed:
     Something was nagging at the back of Shannon's mind. Anybody who knew her, would know the look of gears in her mind turning noisily away, as she glances at Bigby from time to time. Names often meant something, some clue as to the person behind them. But what could his mean?

     Or was it so simple that it was staring her in the face?

     As she settles down in the VIP booth, taking a few moments to cool down from dancing and think things through, she pursed her lips slightly, an idea hitting her. No way. That name was just one step shy of... but it couldn't be, could it?

     Shaking her head as if to clear it, she smiles at Bigby, then at the waitress as she comes over to the booth. "I'd recommend either the potato skins ole, or the loaded nachos, though the wings are pretty good, too."

Barghest has posed:
Nevada does not loiter. He strategically observes. Totally different things. Still, he's unobtrusive enough when he's not actively moving around. When he does get the text and starts moving towards the VIP area after responding, his distinct limp is noticeable. It's stiff and almost bow-legged, like he'd ridden a horse too long. He takes the long way around to avoid crossing the dance floor and his gait doesn't seem to lend itself to speed.

Bigby Wolf has posed:
Bigby nods at Sam, who just motioned for a waitress, as if to thank him. Whisky would be nice.

"Whisky, double," he orders, "If it's on the house, that is." Yup, no more cash.

As he sits down at the VIP table, Bigby reaches for his shirt pocket, producing a pack of cigarette from which he brings one to his lips. The lighter soon follows, ready to light up the most needed cigarette. He got enough of their odors already, Andrea's sweat he could now track down in a forest the size of a large national park!

Someone else is approaching the VIP table, of which Bigby takes good notice. Limping. No threat. Heck, no one is a treat in here.

"No wolfy radar," he answers Andrea, looking at her. Like I said, I keep tab on my friends."

As he mentions the word /friends/, his hand holding the unlit cigarette showly morphs into a large paw and, after a moment, returns to the human hand. "I care for everyone in the pack. You included. And I thought that it would be nice to meet."

Cannonball has posed:
Samuel Guthrie hmms softly and wonders why he has not heard of this man before. Andrea is not the first wolf he has known. He will not to the waitress, after all the orders are made, and says simply "Sweet Tea." He does not seem freaked out at the shifting, taking it in stride, he has seen his share and probably half the neighborhood's share of weird in the past 6 years or so.

Rage has posed:
"I see. So you have wolfy radar." Andrea says with an amused noise in her throat. "So .. are you like .. the King Wolf or something around here? I'm a mutant by the way. Just my genetic twist of what I am and what I can do. I'm not a 'werewolf' by the traditional means."

She takes another sip of her water, glancing at the unlit cig. "This is also a no smoking club. That's Sam, the owner." She says with a motion of her head towards the blonde man with them. "So .. what did you want to know that's not on my Wikipedia?"

Nightingale has posed:
     Shannon's eyebrows loft as she listens to Bigby, taking a moment only to give the waitress her order. "Root beer and loaded nachos, please." She flashed the woman a smile, dipping her head. It could be a thankless job; what harm did a little friendliness do?

     But, back to the matter of Bigby. "Sir," she begins. "I must admit to some curiosity, just who is in your 'pack'." And, perhaps, how far that caring extended....

Barghest has posed:
"Hey guys." Nevada chimes once he's within distance to speak at a respectable volume versus bellowing over the music. "How's it hanging?" He gives quick grins to the familiar faces and a calmer, studious one upon the smoking Bigby. "There's some good music going tonight, but they have some of the more discerning musicians in attendance tonight at the table, I see."

It's ultimately on Andrea his eyes settle as he says, "There room for another? I heard someone say the magical word of 'nachos' and I realized it's been a week and a half since I had them last, which is entirely too long. That's disrespectful to the world's greatest snack."

Bigby Wolf has posed:
"I don't need no fucking wikishit," comes the reply from Bigby to Andrea's mention of Wikipedia. Although his voice is abrupt, he's careful not to show any agressivity other than in words. "I like to meet people in real. Gives me a better sense of who they really are."

He pauses, sighing as he gets rids of the cigarette. Then, very slowly, he looks intently at each of them around the table, as if taking mental notes on each of them. A special look is given to Nevada, for some reason, this guy gets more attention - maybe because he's a bit too exhuberant for Bigby's tastes.

"You can call me Bigby," he replies to Shannon, offering a faint but genuine smile, "You'll want to remain discreet. So do I." Another pause then he finally answers both Andrea's and Shannon's questions. "If you ever heard of Fablestown and its sheriff. I'm the Big Bad, hrm, sheriff."

Up to them to read between the lines or use another word instead of sheriff.

"I'm also curious, how this mutation might be related to me. Because I consider all lupine to be in my pack, under my protection."


Is /that/ Alpha enough for you?

Rage has posed:
"I have never heard of Fablestown. Sounds like Disney Land but like ... low budget." Andrea says as she drums her fingers along the top of the table. "So, you are the Big Bad Wolf .. like the actual Big Bad Wolf? Little Red Riding Hood and the Pigs and all that huffy puffy blow your shit down kinda stuff?"

Her brows lift upwards as she stares at him, then glances over towards her brother Nevada. "Hey. This is /the/ Big Bad Wolf. Did Dad ever cross paths with him?"

Cannonball has posed:
Samuel Guthrie hmms a bit as the man claims to be the big bad wolf "All wolves?" He asks with curiousity "You ever heard of someone named Hrimhari?" He watches for the reaction of the other, after giving Nevada a nod in greeting.

Nightingale has posed:
     Shannon just lets out a short, soft laugh, shaking her head and settling back in her seat. "You sure you're not reading my mind there, Andrea? I was just wondering if that's who Bigby was." Her pale, glacier blue eyes bear a gleam of mild amusement, the young woman oddly not intimidated in the least by their erstwhile new friend, as she turns her gaze towards him. "Is that true, then, sir... err, sorry, Bigby. Old habits die hard." She pauses for a moment, considering. "I wonder, too, does your regard for others of the lupine variety extend to those they consider as part of their own pack?" Just how safe were she and Sam this time?

     Grinning at Nevada, she nudges her order of loaded nachos over his way as it arrives, at least keeping her root beer to herself. To Sam, she just gives a blank look. "Sounds... Norse. You -would- pick my weakest one."

Barghest has posed:
"He's not dead - yet - so no." Nevada says, still seeming unconcerned and easy natured, but there's something critical and even predatory lurking behind brown eyes. "We know about our 'cousins' - so to speak 0 big and small, but at the end of the day they're the same clientele as the rest. At the end of every legend, there'll be one of us."

Even as he takes one of the offered nachos with a cheery grin of thanks towards Shannon, he's saying aside to Bigby, "Also, a few words of unwanted advice. Rolling up on a complete stranger and claiming they're suddenly under your protection over some preconceived notion of family is preeeetty creepy in a place like this. That sounds a lot like some kind of sugar daddy trying to build up a cult, though you hardly look like the type to enjoy a refreshing glass of KoolAid."

Bigby Wolf has posed:
Bigby takes an unnecessary deep breathe. If it wasn't for so many people around, he'd love to show Andrea and her friends what the real Big Bad Wolf is and what he can do. Heck, it would feel so good to wolf-out, to stretch some muscles, even for a moment. The young alpha pup would realize that what is written in these stupid books is nothing compared to the real deal.

But Samuel's question captured his attention. Hrimhari?

"Yeah, I've heard of him. Never seen him. Fenris and I got some things to settle." He's not saying more about it. He didn't come here to talk about his life.

Gulping down his double whisky, Bigby looks back at Andrea.

"As I said, and showed you, I come in peace. To offer my help, if you need it. I'm not going to wolf-out just to prove anything," glancing at Nevada, "especially /in a place like this/."

On that, Bigby pushes his chair, indicating his intent to leave. "Thanks for the drink."

Rage has posed:
"I'll have to admit, this is one of the most weirdest meetings I've had in awhile." Andrea says to Bigby as he is rising up to leave. "Maybe next time, hit me up on my cell phone or something and go through a manager." She says as she props her chin up in the palm of her hand.

"But, it was nice to meet you .. uh .. fellow wolf." She says with a chuckle, brows lifting upwards some, then gives a wave of her hand to him. "I'll take care of the bill." She says as she motions to the food, giving a glance over to Sam with a nod.

"Have a good night."

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon smiles and raises her glass in friendly salute to Bigby as he gets up to take his leave. "It's all good. Be safe out there." The posturing and grumbling about wolfing-out only got a smile from her. Really, who was afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?

Cannonball has posed:
Samuel Guthrie hmms and studies the big bad wolf as he moves to leave. He looks over to Andrea, and says "At least I know ya not dating my brother for his employ discount." He jokes with Andrea

Barghest has posed:
Nevada doesn't say anything further towards Bigby, he just gives him a grin that seems to have a few too many teeth on display. Or maybe it's just a trick of the flickering dance floor light. He seems normal when he crams another chip in his mouth.

"Please, Sam, we can't even get her to let us pay for our own stuff. We try. It's an ongoing battlefield." Not that he sounds concerned. At this point, given his teasing tone, it's probably more of a game.

Rage has posed:
As she watched Bigby head off, Andrea furrows her brows, then glances over towards the rest. "May as well milk it while you can, Nev. One day I'll be poor and I'll need you to support me." She says with a grin, then slips some money on to the table to pay for the tab. "I think it's a good time to head home anyways. Tell Jay I love him when you see him."