[!OPEN!] truly fuckin' suicidal

[SILAS METZGER]

it’s arma-goddamn-motherfuckin’-geddon
FUCK. EAT. KILL.
and do it again

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“Does anybody decent even come to this place?” Silas muttered half to himself as he yanked on his trenchcoat and boots, both black, of course. There were few who still held hope that his closet contained anything that either wasn’t black or didn’t look like it had been drenched in blood (and probably actually had been). His clothing was lightweight—the coat no thicker than a regular shirt—but the persona was conveyed regardless.

As if the master vampire of all Los Angeles, the man who launched thousands of supernatural beings to battle with little more than a gesture and a smirk, would need something as obvious as a coat to communicate how much of a badass he was.

The drive was lengthy, which was normal considering the time of night, and silent, which was normal considering the passengers. Despite his status and unfathomable (not to mention shady) wealth, Silas always drove. His Maserati was perhaps his most prized possession, and difficult as it was for Silas to care about anything, he certainly cared about his car more than he did most of his followers. But when it came down to it, weren’t they all—the followers and the car—easily replaceable? Regardless, even if it was possible, it was still a hassle to replace the car. I mean, it had to be shipped overseas and shit. So Silas preferred to keep the same one as long as was reasonable. He had it washed and attended to regularly, and no one that didn’t have prior permission touched it. And absolutely no one but the master himself drove it. Not to mention that no one else would ever be able to drive it in such a… unique way. To say Silas was an aggressive, speedy driver would be an understatement. To say Silas was a fucking asshole when behind the wheel would also be an understatement. So one could easily understand why none of the other three passengers were speaking—they were too busy pondering all the causes of their inevitable fiery deaths. Surprisingly enough, the vehicle managed to arrive and park without any damage done to it. Now, all of this was no thanks to the driver, and the same could not be said for several other cars it had encountered along the way, but they were there, they had a good—albeit illegal—parking space, and all was therefore well. It was a well-known fact among traffic police officers in the area that that particular car was never to receive any sort of citation; not after what happened the last time. LAPD was short-staffed enough that they certainly didn’t need to be instigating it themselves.

So Silas strolled in with his posse trailing him and seeming to feed off of his excessive confidence, and they all badassily made their way to the VIP terrace above the dance floor. The rope was unhooked, many appeasing comments were made, drinks were ordered and served with amazing speed, and Silas was thus pleased with just how far underneath his foot all the people around him were. It was a really good feeling to know you could end anyone in the room—in several different senses of the word—and not even ruffle your hair.

But Silas was feeling adventurous tonight, and that could either be very good for himself and one lucky lady (or a few, depending), or very bad for one formerly lucky lady’s not-so-lucky boyfriend.

Yes, almost all he thought about was sex and killing. Surprised?

The towering blond stood and, waving off his lackeys from following him, descended onto the dance floor. For the moment, he was curious if anyone had the balls to approach him.

Word Count: 617
Comments: Open to any chars looking for danger.
It probably won't end up in a fight. Maybe.

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[RYDER COLE]

Please don't stop the,
Please don't stop the music.

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In all honesty, this was possibly very nearly fucking suicidal. I mean really, this club wasn't supposed to be for people like Ryder. In fact, it really wasn't supposed to be for people at all. The Ruby was run by the Metzger family, and although Ryder might support their cause, she had yet to actually declare that little fact to anybody, much less Metzger himself. And all that alligence shit asside, the club was full of vampires, werewolves and demons, any of whom would probably love to take a nice big juicy bite out of Ryder. The thing was, she didn't really care. The Ruby was supposed to be fucking amazing for clubbing. And really, if she wanted to declare her formal alliegance to Metxger, where was a better place to find him? Since he owned the club, wasn't there a good chance she might meet him? And if not him, then some important lackey who could carry a message? This was the reasoning that led to her standing outside the double doors leading into The Ruby, but really, the reasoning had nothing to do with it. She would have gone anyway.

As she pushed open the double doors leading inside she was met with a pleasent aroma of blood, sweat, wet dog and smoke with a tiny after thought of strong alcohol. The beat was strong, and she could feel her human heart match it for every pulse as each frail bone rattled along too. It made her smile. Being vulnerable in a place of so much danger wasn't frightening to her, in fact it was more of a turn on. Here her life could be ended at any moment and somehow that, combined with the music, made her feel more alive. Her hips twitched in time with the music and her left foot tapped out a drum beat on the floor. She was absolutley itching to dance, although she was no where near the dance floor yet. Not that it mattered. She would simply dance her way to the dance floor. Would it attract more attention? Probably. Was she stupid? Deffinatly. But the impact those two facts had on her actions was literally nothing, and so she danced on over to the dance floor anyway.

Whether or not Ryder attracted much attention wasn't clear to her, because she honestly wasn't paying attention. She was in her own world where nothing matter except for making sure her body matched the music beat for beat in every way possible. But regardless of the amount of attention she did or did not attract, none of it was negative, or at least violent. Most of the supernatural here weren't interested in fighting and were just as absorbed by the music as Ryder was. And so she made here was without trouble to the edge of the dancefloor. She'd dressed for the occasion of course, never passing up a chance to wear her good corset out. It was strapless and made of black leather, with eyelets laced with ribbon in the back and black lace decorating the top and bottom. She would have worn it everyday if she could have, but it was terrible to fight in, or really to just generally wear. But with a pair of ripped up black jeans and some black heels it made a killer clubbing outfit, albeit an uncomfortable one.

As the song came to an end Ryder decided that it was probably time for a drink. Something very strong. Clubs were fun and everything, but in her opinion, they were even more fun when you were drunk. She began to make her way towards the bar when she noticed that near the entrance of the club was a staircase. Interested, her gaze followed it to a deck above the club floor she hadn't noticed before. At the top of the stairs a modest sign annouced “VIP” and at this Ryder pouted. She'd never been allowed in a VIP area before. Not for lack of trying, mind you. But despite the dance moves she used or the clothes (or lack thereof) that she wore, she'd never been let into one. Her first instinct here was to rip her corset off and run up to the bouncer in her lacy, black strapless bra, but it occured to her that this might not be the best course of action, seeing as it had never worked for her before. In fact, all it had ever done for her was get her kicked out of several clubs.

But there had to be a way to get in, didn't there? She scanned the people who were watching the undead and supernatural teens below dance their hearts out and her gaze rested on a particular tall, blond man that was eyeing up most of the female population of the club hungerly. She was fairly sure she recognized him. Was that not Metzger himself? She let a little smile dance across her lips. Excellent. She might be able to get noticed by him. And if she did, not only would she quite possibly be able to see what all the fuss about the VIP section was, she might also get to formally declare her alliegance to him. Two birds with one stone, it was a perfect plane.

With a renewed goal in mind, Ryder made her way to the middle of the dancefloor and slipped into the beat of the music. It might have been a little but too trashy, but Ryder didn't really understand that. It was the only kind of dancing she was good at. And as she moved her hips around to the beat and flipped her hair around, she did her very best to try to catch Silas Metzger's eye. Because it was now her goal tonight to get his attention, and Ryder would do whatever she could to reach it.


Word Count": 982
Status: Complete
OOC: Hope this is okay. I'm still getting used to it all.[/blockquote]