14405/Another night out.

Another night out.
Date of Scene:	21 May 2022
Location:	The Blue Lady, Fort Joseph
Synopsis:	Thomas and Lois have a few drinks, and secrets threaten to break the surface.
Cast of Characters:	Lois Lane, Thomas Raith

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Lois Lane has posed:
While Lois isn't looking completely her old self, she's still a good bit thinner with her clothing hanging off her in a way that isn't healthy, she's looking better than she did a week ago. Whatever passing issue she had, it seems to have been momentarily fixed. She isn't near so pale or sunken, she's just too sharp around the edges, collarbones and elbows showing in not quite comfortable ways. She's not a woman who was made to be 'model' thin. But it could be worse.

She's in a summer sundress tonight, white and breezy, something not made to hug her body skin tight so she isn't showing how bad it got there for a while. Her dark hair is down around her features and the most fancy thing she's wearing is a pair of white gladiator sandal spike heels, that give her a few inches of height she normally doesn't have. Tonight isn't for working, it's for drinking and maybe even dancing. If she gets lucky, Clark will show up.

Thomas Raith has posed:
Thomas Raith is by contrast 'In his element.' He's in his antique white silk suit, movine around the club, chatting with guests and making sure everyone is entertained and happy. Which is when he see's Lois. Her...deteriated health doe not escape his notice but he smiles none the less. He steps up behid her, quiet as a mouse and smile. "I see you came back. I was afraid I scared you off.

Lois Lane has posed:
The reporter doesn't spook easily, so when she hears his voice behind her, there's only a momentary jump of her heart and slight jerk of her head before a smile spills across her red tinted lips and she turns to face the club owner. "Scare me? God, Raith, I promise you, very little in the world scares me. It's just been a very busy few months... But I deserve a night off. Get me a drink and keep them coming." She loops her arm through his, unless he stops her, easily falling into place as arm candy. She knows here she'll have a good night this evening.

Thomas Raith has posed:
Thomas Raith grins and does not seem at all to mind having his arm claimed by the extremely attractive, if apparently under the weather reporter. He stops a server who'se name tag reads "DiDi" and she certainly lives up to it, telling her "Please bring my decanter as well a Manhattan for Ms. Lane over to my table." He then holds her chair out for her and smiles. "So what has kept you busy, dare I ask."

Lois Lane has posed:
"How much can I trust you? A reporter never tells her secrets, after all. How do I know you're not working for the big-evil that I've been researching lately?" Lois' tone is gently teasing about it, really. She doesn't think Thomas is, but she also has to take a moment to read him. To double check. She has to protect her sources as best she can. She does seem pleased by the Manhattan, though, nodding approval at his order.

Thomas Raith has posed:
Thomas Raith smirks, giving her a look that is positively wicked. "Why you can't trust me at all of course." He says with a smile, "After all I am far to vain for my own good, I have a towering ego that needs constant massaging, preferably by beautiful women such as yourself. But by the same token, I am so insufferable that the idea I could be working /for/ someone is laughable. Who would put up with me." He takes the crystal decanter from the server and pours a health measure of it's contents into a highball glass over some ice.

Lois Lane has posed:
That answer cuts a slightly disappointed look through Lois' eyes. She had wanted to share, truly, and now she can't in good conscience. For all her party girl life style and the rumors that fly about the gonzo reporter who won a Pulizter, Lois does have integrity about her craft. "Well... I can't say much then, working for no one or not. I can't promise you won't spill to others just to look like you've got the inside scoop. But I'm still working on that cult story that I published a good while back. We'll leave it at that."

Thomas Raith has posed:
Thomas Raith can see the disipointment on her face and bites his lip. Subconciously he reaches back pulling his long black hair off his shoulders and into a pony tail before picking up his drink. "Of course there is also the fact that when I am drinking," He says casually, "If I drink enough I can't remember a damn thing later. Really important conversations completely slide out of my mind. Things I've done, just poof." He tilts his head and takes another sip. "Apparently I once sent a stripper to my brother's office dressed like a Slytherin for his birthday, but if it wasn't for the credit card charges, I'd deny it utterly...

Lois Lane has posed:
A deeper smirk crosses her lips as he starts unraveling the story about not remembering anything when he's drinking. Lois just levels her ice blue eyes in his direction, shaking her head, "No no...now that's a gentle fib to get what you want if I ever heard one. You're sharp. You own this club. I know you handle a lot of moving and shaking around this city. I know more than a drunken druggie floozy of a reporter should know, Thomas Raith, and I know you are far too sharp for that. Look, for what it's worth, I don't think YOU are involved in the cult... But people you know might be and you not even realize it. The news slips to one wrong person and, poof, I'm dead. Or worse. Until this breaks, I gotta keep it close to my chest." Lois raises her Manhattan to him in a quiet toast, apologetic almost, and then shoots back a good gulp of it.

Thomas Raith has posed:
Thomas Raith returns the toast, eyes looking just as amused and wicked, "Oh no, it's a hundred percent true. Can't hold my alchol to save my life." he gestures to the decanter and adds, "Which is why I keep that full of sweet tea and only drink from it all night. Got the idea from Dean Martain." He says with an amused smile refilling his drink and returning her salute. "But for what it's worth, I do hate to see a damsel in distress, so if you decide you do need someone to unload on, then my ear is available."

Lois Lane has posed:
There's quiet amusement in her eyes as he spills out that admission about the booze, and about what he's drinking. Lois' brows loft, head tilting in assent that she does believe what he's said, but it's still not getting details about her story. "We break a huge story together, or nearly die together or something, then I'll tell you my deepest secrets. Until then, you'll have to buy the Daily Planet." She winks. "But...tell me how you have been?

Thomas Raith has posed:
Thomas Raith chuckles and shrugs, "Fair enough. To be fair I usually only share my deep dark secrets with a woman I've had dinner with... and usually only over breakfast." He says with a smirk, leaning back and looking around the Club. "Not too badly i suppose. I've hired on a new manager. Haven't seen your friend from the other night since that night, whic is a pity." He looks at her rather amused, "I was enjoying the way that night was developing before your boss pulled you away.

Lois Lane has posed:
"Oh, she wasn't my friend. Not...not really. I mean, she was friendly. And hot, but I just met her in line. I'm sure she's off causing trouble elsewhere." Lois' smirk deepens just a bit more as he mentions his bed. She shakes her head slightly, musing over the booze in her hands. He might not drink, but she certainly enjoys it. "Do you truly enjoy the image of a playboy, or is it just a form of protection? I can't quite tell...Slighty both, I suspect."

Thomas Raith has posed:
The White Courtier grins slightly and waffles his hand in the air slightly, shrugging and leaning back, and letting the facade slip just a little bit perhaps. "I love women. Thoroughly, and completely. But I'm not the sort of person who does relationships well. I was in one, possibly the longest I've ever had until recently. It didn't end well. So I give them an out. It was just a thing. Nice, but foolish. No regrets, but a bad idea. It's not you it's me, etcetera etcetera." He shrugs slightly, eyes far away for a moment... Normally deep saphire blue eyes now stormy with memory and thought.

Lois Lane has posed:
Her head tilts a bit more, reaching for her own cannister so she can pour herself more Manahattan. She really doesn't mind getting blitzed around him, which says she either trusts him a bit or she's a danger junkie. Probably both. "That's shitty. The end of anything tends to be shitty. You wanna vent about it? I promise not to put it on the front page, I'm not a gossip rag person, I swear." That statement smacks of truth. She really is just volunteering to give him a space to speak.

Thomas Raith has posed:
Thomas Raith sighs a bit, leaning back and sipping his tea. "It's not much to tell really. It's the sort of thing that really can only happen in this city. We'd been together two years. I was really starting to think, maybe this time I can actually beat the odds. Get a little bit of something resembling normal for myself... And then she got blasted by a mystic ray, or an alien mind scrambler or some fairy creature messed with the fabric of reality or something and poof. she has absolutely no memory of me."

Lois Lane has posed:
That shocks her. Lois blinks, her mind pulling through a ton of other possiblities now. He might recognize the look, it's that of someone who is a problem solver that is actually trying to solve a problem. "Can I smoke in here?" She asks as she sits up straigher, pulling a crumpled pack of Newports out of her bra and setting her glass down. She needs to think a bit more clearly for this. "I mean, it's not like she hates your cuts. It's supernatural. That's *fixable*, you know.

Thomas Raith has posed:
Thomas Raith shakes his head slightly. "From what I understand the memories are just...gone. It's not just the big things. It's the little ones too. the small gestures, the inside jokes. It's like she's never met me... And it's hard, impossible really, to get to know someone who already knows you that intimately. And in a way it feels wrong. Like I am trying to force her into a role she doesn't want. That's unfair, to the woman she is as well as the woman she was.

Lois Lane has posed:
"That... that's fair. That's shitty, but it's fair. You're being a good guy about it, despite rumors..." Lois' gaze has some true sympathy for him, her fingertips reaching over to wrap across the back of his hand for a moment and give a gentle squeeze. It's the best reassurance she can offer. She's not great with this emotions stuff.

Thomas Raith has posed:
Many White Courtiers feed constantly. They are not just Predators, but their natural talents give them the sense of superiority that they can simply take whatever, and frankly /whomever/ they desire with little or no consequences. Thomas does not subscribe to that attitutde. For all his, as Lois adiquately put it, Playboy demeanor, for a White Courtier he isn't just reserved he is downright prudish. But the conversation opened a very fresh and not well at all healed wound on Thomas emotions. And for his Hunger, the demon that give Thomas his power and feeds on Emotions, it's like a creaure backed into a corner. So when Lois's skin touches his "the sensation would be overwhelming. Pleasure doesn't begin to describe it. Like fine  chocolate, perfectluy aged wine, and amazing sex all wrapped up and fired into her brains synapses. It's like if you could take sin... pure decadaqnce, and wrap it around you like a blanket... And the whole time it saying you can have it all if you just say yes..." And then it is over. Thomas pulls his hand away quickly and blinks. "Sorry! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean.."

Lois Lane has posed:
While Lois knew there was something different about Thomas, knew that he had power over people, she thought it was really just money and fame. She wasn't expecting this. A low moan escapes her lips as she's pulled into a sensation like she's rarely had in her life. She melts back into the booth, shivering, lost in it for what feels like eternity. And then it's gone. She's covered in a fine sweat and still slightly shivering as she looks over to him through half lidded eyes. "You... are not... a normal club owner." She shallowly breathes out. Not anger in her voice, but a mix of surprise and trying to get control of herself again

Thomas Raith has posed:
Thomas Raith keeps his hand away from her, but even a few feet apart there is...something... a draw. Like static jumping invivibly between them. His eyes, only moments before a stormy sapphire have turned the shade of a bright blue sky, and seem to be getting paler. "I do apologize Ms. Lane... Lois... I didn't mean for that to happen. Maybe I should step away..." The man trying desperately to regain his composure. He hadn't lost control of his Hunger since... well since Buffy.

Lois Lane has posed:
Pale, ice blue eyes mirror his, her pupils still slightly blown. But Lois is an addict. She knows what too good to be true pleasure is. She knows how dangerous it is and how much she has to reign herself in. So, no matter how much her mind is screaming for it, she forces herself to breathe through her nose and try to calm the racing of her heart. "What... *was*... that?" She asks firmly, but quietly. Her voice is meant just for them and she's managing to keep most of the bedroom out of it.

Thomas Raith has posed:
Thomas Raith hesitates, taking a moment, grabbing his tea glass with an almost trembling hand and drinking it quickly and smoothly. "My Office." he says after a moment. "I am not going to talk about this here on the floor."

Lois Lane has posed:
A slow, slightly shaking nod comes from Lois. She takes another deep breath in to steady herself, pours herself another bit of booze from her cannister, and then pushes herself into standing. She's a little unsteady, but manages her feet decently well after a few steps, even in those stilletto heels. She follows after him towards his office, silent and focused.