Futuristic — 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑳𝑬𝑺𝑺.

[oliver]

milo missing

"Ah. Bad, was it? I tried." Milo half apologized as he looked away, unable to decipher between potential sarcasm and seriousness. His stomach filled with butterflies and embarrassment. He'd hooked up with people before, but pickup lines and flirting weren't his forte. Talking in general wasn't. But, it seemed as if his new friend was more than willing to solve the silence. The rhythmic shake of the music also filled what Milo couldn't.

After a curt nod, he plucked the blunt out from between his companion's fingers, taking his time to savor the new drug in system. His eyes held the other's while he took a drag, closed as he blew out the smoke, and opened once again so he could place the weed back into the safety of the other's hands.

The moment passed and Milo allowed himself to be led back over to the bar. "Q?" Milo echoed and then noted, "Interesting." The mojito was good news. Milo watched the bartender make it a priority to mix the drink and as Q handed it to him, he didn't hesitate to lock eyes with him while taking the first sip. Oddly refreshing, it complimented the piquant occasion. Milo was already sold a thousand time, Q's voice was honey.

"A pity for you, too. My name is Milo." He hoped that Q wouldn't forget it. With another bob of his head, he made his way onto the dance floor with the shorter male, a bounce in his step before they'd even fully settled in. "I do."


Suddenly, Milo found himself more grateful for Kat teaching him how to dance than he ever had before. His body animated in sync with the music but he couldn't help the flick of his eyes in the direction that Q was distracted by. The VIP booth, he guessed. Milo wasn't going to ask as he'd gawked at it earlier. And just the same, he hastily looked away. "Give me the same respect." He said gently, reaching out to touch Q's face and encourage him to look back at him. The corners of his lips were quirked up. It wasn't really a request.

"Thank you, by the way. For the drink. You know how to make a guy feel important. I'll be sure to treat you next time."

Milo wondered in his mind who Q really was. This coquettish facade couldn't have been all that he was, and Milo wanted to move past the surface level banter. A special amount of empathy ruined the fleeting encounters for him entirely and Q didn't seem like the person who would respect that. Minutes in, and Milo wanted something deeper-- invasive. That part of him contrasted the warm yet impersonal setting.

"I think I'd like to get to know you better. Proper. Is that too forward?" The top row of Milo's teeth exposed a soft, genuine smile. Milo presented as calm while his body was scorching with anxiety and a rare boldness. The idea of someone getting to know him was an enchanting threat. Vulnerability was special.

the answer.

flirty.

x. x.

Q mangomilk

coded by natasha.

 

[TheWaffleLord]

[ VINCENT WOLFE ]

location. the answer (vip area)
outfit. xxx
with. adrian
mentions. isobel, briar-grace, adrian
tags. @Abendrot
Saturn_moon BreeDav

It could've been the low lighting tricking his eyes, but Vincent thought Briar-Grace's hand...flickered for a split second when she paused. "Yes, sir. I apologize."
Most people would assume the man got a kick out of scaring people because it came so naturally. That was true, when he was feeling particularly devious, but he couldn't care less about how he was viewed otherwise. It simply agitated him when anybody eavesdropped on a conversation he was having—a conversation not meant for their ears. Briar-Grace just happened to stick her nose where it didn't belong. That was one of the things that vexed him most. His attention diverged to the business at hand, however, so his gaze temporarily slackened on her.

The Seeker examined the items as soon as she was given the folder and lightly touched each one. When she held the charm bracelet in her hand, it seemed to do the trick. Vincent saw her eyes glaze over, appearing unfocused while she stared into the distance where nobody stood. She seemed so oddly entranced that the bracelet slipped out from her palm. The men around the table gave her strange looks, but Vincent figured she must've been using her power just then. The Seeker came back to her senses quickly. She picked up the bracelet, tucked away the folder into her jacket, then excused herself. It was a brief encounter.

Briar-Grace moved into his line of sight again as she placed the champagne bottle in an ice bucket. Then she quickly cleared away everyone's dirty plates and glasses. Whether her dexterity was professional or an urgency driven by fear was debatable. When she was done, she looked directly at him. His eyes were aloof now, but still carried an intense sharpness that could condemn her of any dignity. A slight pinch of his brow expressed, "you're still here?"
“Is there anything else I can get for you?” she asked with a thin, nervous smile. Briar-Grace was like glass; Vincent could see right through her.
"No. That's it for now," he replied evenly.

After she had left, Vincent made a noise that sounded close to a grunt and it suggested something between annoyance and disapproval.
"You scared the shit outta her," one of them snickered.
He took another sip of his champagne. "Looks like it." Once again, those who stuck out like a sore thumb emerged in his mind. He looked to Adrian and smirked. "Y'know, tonight could turn out to be fun."

It was partly because he was pleased with the idea of cornering the heroes and beating them senseless, but he also just wanted violence. It'd been weeks since he last joined a fight—even the welts, cuts, and bruises that normally marked Vincent's face and body had fully healed. There were more Hell Hounds to be seen outside the VIP area, strewn between every corner of the club. The heroes were out of their depth.

"If I had to guess," he mused, "I'd say there's no more than ten of 'em down there. What do you think, Adrian?"

by @leviathan.​

 

[BreeDav]

Briar-Grace Auden

Villain

Briar flinched at the man’s harsh expression as he turned to her. She bit the inside of her cheeks, using the sharp pain as a reminder that these men deserved her fear. Confidence was different than recklessness. She couldn’t tip over that ledge. She lowered her eyes, trying to seem as unassuming as possible

“That’s it for now.”

Briar nodded and turned to leave. She could feel his eyes on her back. It only spurred her movement. As she reached the stairs, she steadied the tray on her shoulder and looked back at the group. A chill went down her spine, nothing good was going to come from tonight. She went down the stairs so quickly that she nearly stumbled and dropped the tray at the bottom of the stairs. With nimble fingers, she righted it on her shoulder once more. The waitress skirted the dancing crowd on the main level, glancing back at the VIP floor too many times to count.

When she slipped behind the bar, she let a breath that had been stuck in her throat. The bartenders were moving around quickly, taking orders as they were making drinks. The manager wasn’t joking when she’d said that tonight would be busy. The club staff were all moving. Briar slipped behind the bartenders and started washing the cups that she’d picked up from the men’s table.

It wasn’t until she finished washing the glasses that she realized her hands were still shaking. She was still terrified. It was like there was a weight in her stomach, filling her body with dread. She’d lost control for a moment. She’d almost had an attack. Had he seen? Did he know? What if he thought she was with the heroes and had been sent to listen in to their conversation? She’d just served the heroes table. Had that man seen her?

Briar-Grace closed his eyes for a moment, but even the darkness that greeted her seemed unfriendly. She could only imagine his eyes. She couldn’t help but feel that they had dug into her and drawn out all her secrets. Every secret she’d ever kept, and there were so many.

“Briar, can you take this to table 2?”

The bartender’s voice snapped her out of the spiral that had started once more. “Ya, I uh…” She trailed off, her eyes making an arc over the club and up to the VIP section, where table 2 waited for their cocktails. “No.” She looked back at him. “I’m not going up there.”

There was a moment before the bartender put a hand on her back and guided her away from the bustle of the club. “Did something happen?”

“No!” Briar shook her head quickly “No, no. I just…” She scrambled to find a believable lie. “I just embarrassed myself. I messed up and I offended one of the guys up there.”

“Briar-“

“I’m fine. I just…” Her eyes flicked back up to the section. “It's not my section anyway. Have one of the other girls take it up. I have to check on my tables.” She pulled away from the bartender and put on her customer service smile. She just had to get through a few more hours. She just had to make it through the night. Nothing too bad could happen. Right?

the answer || VIP level, the bar

black dress || fishnets || black boots

TheWaffleLord , NPC, open to anyone for interaction

coded by natasha.

 

[jones573]

Daniel cleaned up nicely enough. He was wearing his best pair of dark jeans and a vee neck that he felt clung to his biceps a little too tightly, but had gotten very positive reactions when he'd worn it on the occasional date. He’d even opted not to add an extra layer, and he felt a bit uncomfortable without a jacket or paint stained sweater to tuck his hands into.

He wasn’t the only person his age in the crowd- and christ, was he really so old that most people looked so damned young to him, or were they not carding at this place?- but the others looked confident in the club setting in a way that didn’t seem attainable to him. He supposed they must come here more often.

Though, Daniel actually had been to this particular club before- A few of his friends had dragged him out clubbing for his birthday a few months ago, and this had been one of their stops. It had been... Memorable in that sort of can't-actually-remember-all-the-details sort of way, but clearly it wasn’t the name of the place that had made an impression on Daniel. He looked around a bit anxiously, but he didn’t see any familiar faces under the shifting neon lights.

Which was probably for the best. He didn't need a repeat of last time. He was going to avoid attractive men. And poorly lit, secluded areas. Especially attractive men, in secluded areas, after he'd had a few drinks. And barring that, he was going to try to at least hang onto any telephone numbers he was given.

Not that that was relevant. Because that wasn't why he was here.

He was here because the club was owned by a woman with a powers, and the place didn’t make a secret of it. (Supposedly they had connections to the Hell Hounds. Supposedly they were an FBI surveillance site. Supposedly aliens had already landed on earth three years ago and the government was covering it up. Daniel didn't put much stock in 'supposedly's.) But they were friendly to metahumans as both guests and employees, and that was as good a place as any to start his search.

The twins weren’t of drinking age- hell, he wasn’t even sure the club hosted 18+ nights- but he figured the people here might be more likely to know something about his missing residents than just some random person on the street who might read the flyers he’d posted up on telephone poles around the Daffodil.

They weren’t official missing persons posters- Everything Daniel had picked up on from Sadie and Abraham Grey had indicated they would not want the authorities involved. And besides, he doubted the police would be of much help. He had residents who came and went all the time, often with no notice. Just because they’d left their stuff behind in their unit and Sadie hadn’t reported to her shift at the desk after she’d told him after their Monday night dinner she’d see him later that week.

It was entirely possibly they’d resolved whatever had brought them into town, or found the next step in their journey and left to pursue it. But. They were little more than kids and they didn’t seem to have anyone besides each other and Daniel couldn’t help but worry, so. He'd printed up flyers with a written description of the kids and how to get ahold of him in anyone knew anything, and he was determined to make an effort at distributing them in the right places.

Even if those places were very loud. Was there a birthday party or something? That group in the corner was quite... Uproarious.

A hand snaked around his wrist and pulled him towards the dance floor. The woman attached to the hand was beautiful and smiling at him encouragingly as she moved her other hand to his shoulder.

"Ah- Maybe later," he suggested, not opposed to dancing but wanting to accomplish his goal first. She shrugged and turned back to her friend with an eye roll, and Daniel assumed she wouldn't be saving space on her dance card for him. Ah well.

“Hey,” he shouted over the crowd’s noise to a dark haired waitress passing by. “Can I put these up on your board?” He waved his papers and pointed at a many-layered bulletin near the bathrooms, advertising different club events and local musicians and goodness knows what else. "They're about some missing kids," he explained.

Interacting with: Assorted random clubbers, Briar Grace BreeDav

 

[calypso]

Circe Odagar

'Ethereal'

Letting out another laugh as she slowly leaned back, Circe found herself twirling away from Ford's grasp slowly as a gust of wind blew through the back alley once again. Surprisingly still nimble in her high heels, the woman swayed on her feet as she began to hum to herself softly. Although waves of heat still rolled off in, they were slowly becoming further and further apart. For a split second, flames licked at the end of her hair, threatening to shoot upward and ignite completely.

But the glow slowly faded away, and she continued to rock herself back and forth with a soft smile on her eyes and her eyes closed. People always assumed that Circe hated the cool, but she actually adored it. When you're perpetually hot, there's nothing better than laying face down in a pile of snow before you melt right through it. Or in the case, catch a breeze that threatened to tip the drunken hero over.

As her humming slowly died down, Circe continued to slowly dance herself around Ford before she spoke softly. "Don't say something like that, you'll make me believe it," she said, her voice hushed while music still slipped out from the club behind him. Pausing herself behind Ford, she let out another gentle laugh and pitched herself forward to more or less fall against him, her arms coming up lazily around his sides to support herself.

Letting out a content noise, Circe was still warm as she pressed her cheek against his back. "It's not fair, you know. Everyone else gets to have fun and relax, but if I have fun, I'm considering a walking fire hazard," she began to lament, her hands lazily swinging in front of them like she was giving a presentation.

"In fact, I am a walking fire hazard. You have a cool power, Yin has a really cool power, and Ellis is just...he's good," she sighed the last part out, clearly letting her drunken brain take full control of the steering wheel. "But you can't call Ethereal to villains in crowded areas. She's too much of a risk, she might hit a civilian. Then she'll feel realllllly...bad."

For a few seconds, Circe stopped speaking, and only her somewhat heavy breathing was heard. Her body slowly straightened up against Ford's back, and her arms found each other to wrap around him in a hug as her face fully smushed into the back of his shirt. When she spoke again, her voice was fairly muffled.

"If I wasn't so drunk right now, this would be really, really embarrassing. But I don't think I'm even going to remember this tomorrow morning, so promise not to tell anyone?" She muttered out, slowly turning her face to the side so she could get some fresh air. Not that Ford smelled bad or anything like that. Sober Circe would be very proud of drunk Circe for this sole occurrence, in fact.

"I've done bad things before," she said, swallowing thickly before she spoke again. "I don't really talk about them because we're not supposed to, but now I can't stop thinking about them. Maybe I shouldn't of brought everyone clubbing, I don't even know if anyone is having any fun."

the answer

'I got a pocket, got a pocket full of sunshine!'

xxx

BreeDav

coded by natasha.

 

[BreeDav]

Ford Hayes

Champion

Ford let Circe sway and twirl around him but always kept a hand on her waist or her back or her shoulder so that she wouldn’t fall when her balance got too off kilter. Circe did pretty well keeping herself on her feet, though he did need to dodge the occasional flaming lock of hair. She was so funny, smiling and humming and swaying around like a drunk ballerina.

And yet her mood soured so quickly. She shifted around him and pressed her face against his back. “Circe…” He whispered, holding her hands where they were hugged around his stomach. He let them go when she started waving them, sliding his hands up her arms to her elbows. “You have an amazing power.” He let out a long breath, looking up at the stars when she pushed her face against him again. “You’re right. Etheral can’t do the things that Yin or Ellis or I can do.” His voice softened “That’s because she isn’t meant to fight a bad guy or some bad guys. She fights armies.” He smiled softly, following the distant lights of a plane across the dark sky “You’re the big guns.”

A wider smile tugged at the corner of his lips when she mentioned being embarrassed. “Embarrassed?” He pulled her hands back around his stomach “And why would that be?”. His eyes glinted mischievously in the faint light of the alley way. He wanted nothing more than to tease her relentlessly, to watch her blush and see her eyes go wide the way they always did. But her mood changed again.

“I’ve done bad things before.”

Ford listened, unsure what to say while she spoke. He wanted to know what was going through her mind, what bad things were making his bright and happy co-worker this quiet. But he knew it would be wrong to ask her now. It would be wrong to pry into her past when she was drunk. Whatever it was, she’d hid it for a reason. Her inhibitions were obviously long gone by now. Even if he didn’t know for sure, he could imagine the kinds of things she was capable of. He had his own horror stories; moments when he hadn’t know his strength, times when he’d trusted his instincts without thinking about the consequences.

He twisted in her arms so that he was facing her and pulled her into a hug. No matter how hard he tried, Ford couldn’t think of the right thing to say. What was he supposed to say? Its okay? How can he know if its okay? There are a million things that she could have done with her power that could be forgiven but would never be okay. That was what every powered person had to live with. They had to live with the things they’d done before they learned control and knew their limits. How is he supposed to comfort her without lying?

Ford hesitated, shifting his chin over the hair on the crown of her head. Is he supposed to comfort her? That wasn’t what the academy taught. But now, hearing the heavy sound of her voice, he didn’t know what the right thing to do.

So Ford did what Ford does best, he distracted her. “Are you trying to tell me that I’m not fun?” He chuckled and squeezed the hero to his chest. He mimicked the little tuneless hum she’d been singing when they’d left the club and began to sway. “Would I be more fun if I danced with you?” He grabbed one of her hands and spun her. Before she fell away from him, he pulled her back into a hug and swayed to the muffled sound of club music, singing soft gibberish into her red curls when he didn’t know the lyrics.

“You’ve cooled down. We can go back if you’re not having fun.” Ford looked through the cracked door over her head “I can look after you and make sure you don’t overheat again.”

the answer || side alleyway

grey jacket and dress pants || white button up || blue tie

calypso

coded by natasha.

 

[Saturn_moon]

Isobel Pham​

In the grip of silent panic, adrenaline flooded Isobel's system. It pumped and beat with the ferocity of a hurricane so much so that her heart felt like it was about to explode. Her eyes have gone wide, pupils dilated, but unseeing. Run. Her brain willed as the man before her crouched down and attempted to collect the contents of the folder. Before he finds out. Run! But her feet remained fixed in their place, the connection between her thoughts and actions severed.

Do-over abruptly stands and takes her hand. Shit. Shit. Shit. He knew. She was certain he knew. Her blood ran cold and her breathing quickened. Then, his hand was gone. She glanced down and in its place was the folder, papers and all neatly tucked inside, do-over none the wiser. At least, it seemed that way.

"Sorry about that." He shouted over the far too loud music. She stared, confused as to why he was apologizing. "Let me buy you a drink, as a sorry!" Isobel didn't exactly have the best opinions about Heartbeat City's superheroes. To be fair, she didn't have the best opinions about supers in general. People were not made to have powers and it only drew another line in a society that was already so divided, but the heroes were glamorized for it and awarded far more privileges than they deserved. However, in that moment as do-over looked down at her with a genuine smile on his face, she could see not the hero but the man that had captured the hearts of the media and people. In a daze and still trying to comprehend her sheer, dumb luck at not getting caught, she unconsciously nodded and started to head towards the bar.

calypso

 

[mangomilk]

quentin song

hell hound

Quentin watched him take a drag of the blunt. He looked quite handsome while doing so, hence it made him smile in delight. The fact that Milo demanded to raise his attention towards him and not the vip booth, was a welcome surprise, he liked that the young man knew what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to ask for it in such a pure and almost innocent way.

His hands felt soft on his skin and Q couldn’t help but look at him while taking action to gently touch Milo’s waist just to pull him closer. The neon lights changed into blinks of bright and dark flashes and it seemed like this moments were captured in a bunch of photographs.
Quentin wasn’t the type of guy to just open up entirely with personal stuff even though he might seem to be like that. Behind the facade of his flirty coolness, there was caution tangled in a dance of words to not give away too much. "My name is Quentin. And as you can see I am the life of the party", he chuckled. That was everything Milo needed to know, really. "But I’m telling you a secret. There’s a much better way to get to know someone", he said.

He removed a lock of Milo’s hair from his face and led him more on the dance floor. Dancing was a love language that Quentin spoke fluently, and he didn’t mind wether he’d be Milo’s companion or his teacher. "I like your style", he murmured him while pulling the taller male down slightly so he would hear it. He let his hands brush over Milo’s shoulder, letting him know he was the prettiest on the dance floor. He started to dance around him as he welcomed him to this exclusive moment. Even though Quentin didn’t have a supernatural power, in this moment he was magnetic. Somehow you’d find your way to him and it would be hard to distance again.

His ease with everything was intoxicating, as if life was just an eternal party and he was the one to put you on the guest list. He pulled him by his hand gently but with some force to be felt, leading him in front of him, while Quentin stayed behind him. Guiding him slightly with the movement of his hips against Milo’s behind, he left most of the freedom to him. By now Quentin was as high as a kite but he enjoyed every drop of sweat he’d lose, every breath he’d hiss in Milo’s ear and every step he’d dance on the sticky floor. It’s a weird thing when numbness and adrenaline mixes.

the answer

flirty

x

milo oliver

coded by natasha.