The Dance of the Metas (Gwen)

[Uriah Kempe]

Uriah felt like dancing. It was maybe five in the evening, so he spent some time to clean up a bit and prepare. His first goal was to find a club. He had been to one, but he figured it wouldn't hurt to see if there were others in town as well for him to explore. So he walked around the club district for a little while first, asking the occasional pedestrian.

Finally he was given enough input that he decided on a club. He arrived and was slightly disappointed to see that even though it was six thirty now, it was still pretty quiet. So he sat for a drink or two to see if it would change. Fortunately at seven the DJ started and things picked up quick. Friday night, seven thirty, and he could finally have some fun.

He began simply enough with just dancing on the edges. As the floor filled up more he moved towards to center, feeling one with the music. He did however create some bubbles around his ears to lessen the noise. Enjoying the music was fine and all, but he wanted to keep his hearing. It was a useful trick and thanks to his knowledge in music he only filtered the ranges that most of the music was coming from.

He could still hear the music fine, but he also had a wonderful advantage of hearing the people around him. Spying an attractive girl he went over and began dancing near her. It wasn't until she turned to face him he recognized her as the girl who had knocked him out of the way of a car earlier that week. His head didn't hurt anymore, though there was still a small tender spot. He continued dancing anyways, waiting to see if she would notice.

[Gwen Peyton]

Normally, Gwen never really cared for clubs. She was never a fan of the music, nor the smell of sweat from gyrating bodies on the dance floor. Yet, clubs weren't all that bad-- the booze was still good, if a tad overpriced, and it was a good place to spot hot guys for the night. So she liked to mix things up once in a while. It wasn't a crime.

Putting on a loose, sheer shirt and a short bodycon skirt (which rarely saw the light of day in her closet), she was off for the night. During the nights when she was on the prowl, she liked going alone-- not that she had many friends as company, anyway. Still, she liked flying solo, and was never really good at keeping anyone company, especially when she had plans of leaving them eventually as the night went on.

She got to the club at seven, making a face as soon as she heard the music from the DJ's turntable. Gwen quickly made her way towards the bar to get a drink-- a rum cola-- after which she craned her neck towards the dance floor, scanning the crowd that got bigger by the minute. Hmmm. No one interesting so far... tonight must be a dud. Still, the night was young, and so she headed off to the edge of the dance floor, mustering to sway even a little on the dance floor. She could not, for the life of her, bring herself to dance to that horrible music.

Despite the deafening volume from the speakers, Gwen managed to hear light footsteps come behind her. Game time. She turned around to look at one of her takers for the night. As soon as she saw his face, she thought the stranger was cute-- slightly older than her, but that didn't matter to her. Gwen gave a coy smile, yet as a few more seconds passed, something had suddenly clicked.

The dude from the vision. Gwen's face went from flirty to horrified in a snap. No, no. She wasn't going to hook up with someone she saw dead in her vision. That was just.... creepy on different levels.

"Oh--hey, it's you", Gwen managed to say, taking a gulp of her drink.

[Uriah Kempe]

Her reaction surprised Uriah a bit. He wasn't amazing with people but he could tell when her face when from 'Oh hey there handsome' to 'OH JEEZ! Help me!' pretty easily. Smiling anyways he nodded and said "Oh. Hey. It's me. I'm sorry, you saved my life but I can't remember your name. Probably that conk on my head, you know. Mind if I buy you a drink as thanks?"

He honestly wanted to return the favor, and she was attractive. He wasn't sure he saw her as girlfriend material yet but it didn't hurt to chat. Plus it'd make the other girls jealous to see him with someone like her. So it was a win-win for everyone but his wallet. After talking he gestured her over to bar to accentuate his offer.

[Gwen Peyton]

Gwen on the other hand, wasn't shocked at all to see that the guy saw the expression on her face. She wasn't trying to hide it, after all.

"Yeeeaah, I don't know if you understand this but I can't fuck strangers I've seen as bloody roadkill. It's like necrophilia, but...not", Gwen commented as blithely, looking at him from head to toe. There was no point in beating around the bush. It was a shame. He was handsome. Still, the image of his bloody corpse every time she looked at him would not get out of her head. It was too much.

Gwen took another gulp of her drink, emptying the glass. "Gwen", she slurred slightly, sticking her hand out aimlessly. "All in a day's work of a psychic", she replied, her version of you're welcome,"and seeing as I'm out, I don't see why I can't take you up on your offer", she finally added, gesturing to her empty glass.

"See, I knocked you out of the way before a car could kill you, and I didn't catch your name."

[Uriah Kempe]

This was one time when Uriah decided that Christian's approach would be best. Unfortunately he didn't have his best wing man available. So he decided to go with his best guess as to how Christian would respond.

"You know, with a wit like that, I can't wait to hear your pillow talk." He wasn't actually insulted at all, but he had learned that most of the time if someone was going to respond in a sarcastic or insulting manner, they expected the same. If they didn't, it was easier to ask for forgiveness than to suddenly get really rude after trying to kiss their ass.

"How about this. I'll buy you the drink and you try to guess what my name is. If you can't figure it out in ten drinks, you can just call me sexy. Sound like a plan, Gwen?" He took a chance now and put his arm around her waist, not actually holding her but allowing him to try and guide her towards the bar. "Or if one of your first three guesses is a dead person we can just agree that maybe you're thinking a little too much on that necrophilia thing."

Hey, worst he could do was strike out. Best he could do was impress a hot girl.

[Gwen Peyton]

Gwen pursed her lips, secretly thinking about her options. The guy was very attractive, the most attractive in the club for the night in fact, and she had intended to score tonight. Maybe she could loosen up on the moral boundaries? (Not that they weren't already loose.) Hmmm, no. Just, no.

"Sorry, I don't do dirty talk. My actions do a hell of a job better than my words", she answered with a hint of defiance. Unless he was into the whole dominatrix thing, which Gwen was open to doing... not that she was about to tell this semi-stranger that.

God, this was hard. He was sexy. She didn't need ten drinks for that, that was sure. "How about you just get me a drink, and we'll see how many drinks you'll need to buy me before I let you take me home." She was being a little hard to get, yet she didn't protest when his arm was close to her waist, and let him actually hold her. Maybe it could work? Or maybe he'd run out on cash long before she'd get drunk enough to forget about his imaginary dead body. Whatever worked.

[Uriah Kempe]

"Now now, don't put words into my mouth. There's other things that belong there. I said pillow talk, not dirty talk. But please don't let that stop you if you change your mind." Uriah was enjoying this game of wits. He had reverted naturally into his more chauvinisticly sarcastic banter. At this point Chris would be kissing her hand and telling her sweet things about her. Fortunately Uriah's method was working fine as far as he could tell. At least she hadn't thrown a drink at him OR slapped him.

As they approached the bar he continued "Oh, please, no need to act. I'm sure you're happy to see me, and I promise it isn't an act when I saw you look absolutely ravishing. And by ravishing I mean I'd love to ravish you." He waved the bartender over and requested another drink for her and told him to put it on his bill. "Well here's one drink, so why don't you guess and if you do get them all wrong we'll just go with your plan anyways."

He casually laid his arm down by hers on the bar and wrapped his hand gently her elbow, not holding it so much as using his entire palm to touch it. Yes it seemed a little pushy he suspected, but he wasn't pinning her down and trying to make her gasp.

Yet.

[Gwen Peyton]

Gwen smirked at his response. Normally she would have turned down pushy ones with an insult, or even worse, a kick in the nuts, but there was something interesting about his determination. Plus, his comebacks weren't half bad at all.

"Oh god, please don't tell me you want me to sing you to sleep. Don't tell me you're that kind of perv", Gwen remarked, rolling her eyes. Of course, he probably wasn't. She just wanted to keep him a little off the edge and see how he'd respond.

Gwen narrowed her eyes at him, a little thrown off guard by his brashness. "Don't get too excited, roadkill. Let's see if your wallet could keep up with me." As soon as he handed her the drink, she took a sip from it, and put the glass down, drumming her fingers. "Kurt Cobain." Gwen was being stubborn, of course.

The psychic's eyes darted over to his palm, which was touching her elbow, and dragged her elbow just an inch away. "Getting touchy there, are we?" She told him, a sly smirk on her face. She wasn't going to let him win just yet.

[Uriah Kempe]

It had been a while since a girl had managed to resist his urges by this point. But there was something to be said for playing the chasing game. As long as it didn't last too long, and as long as he won in the end, he would be happy to keep it up. "Oh, no, I'm no Greek tragedy. While I'd love to hear you sing, I sleep just fine alone. I promise though sleeping would be one of the last things on your mind." He gave another wink and a lopsided grin.

Her roadkill comment got a single bark-like laugh out of him. "The real question is this: If my wallet keeps up with you, can you keep up with me afterwards?" He let her take advantage of her drink and then waited as she seemed to think. "Don't hurt yourself dear. I promise it isn't a long name." When she gave her guess he made a slight 'tsk tsk' noise with his tongue. "There goes that necrophilia thing again. Let's order you up another drink so you can get to guessing right away."

As she moved her elbow away from his hand he casually moved the same hand up to gesture to the bartender. "I don't know. Would you rather me be touchy or feely? Because I'd love to be feely. My hands are cold, and you are ever so hot." He got the bartender to bring the second drink over as he finished his line.

[Gwen Peyton]

She had to admit: the lopsided grin just looked so good. Gwen let out a dramatic sigh as he asked if she could keep up with him. "Oh, you just might be surprised", she answered, not giving in. He wanted her, he was going to have to try a little harder.

Gwen rolled her eyes at the pick-up line. The not-so-stranger had his good looks to thank for if he was going to get away with bad lines like that. "Gee, that's so hot. A few more lines like that and you're going home lonely tonight." Still, she didn't refuse the second drink that he handed over. Slowly, she felt the alcohol spread through her body, her inhibitions lowering. Normally she had a high tolerance for alcohol, but the drinks that just kept coming through won't give her a respite.

[Uriah Kempe]

Uriah only smiled again at her sigh and reply. She was definitely a fun challenge. He wasn't ready to give up. He had put too much effort into it now and so it was worth it to him to keep up the chase rather than start again with other girls. That being said, she didn't know that.

"You're not as full of zingers yourself as you might like to think dear. I just didn't think it polite to point it out when you seemed to be having such a good time and trying so hard." He reached a hand out and gave a little joking salute. "Oh, so if I stop the bad one liners now I won't be going home alone? If that's a promise, I promise my jokes will improve considerably, and probably be a lot more complimentary. But if you're still so uninterested... Well I only promised one drink. I can go and find another attractive you girl who is obviously dressed with something in mind and lay them on her. Or lay on her. Probably both eventually. You're just more fun and far hotter than anyone else in here right now."

His line there was a risky one, he was sure. He was banking considerably on the slight jealousy that might be enticed by it but if she read too deeply into it and went all feminist and started accusing him of objectifying her... Well, she didn't seem like that type but you never knew.

[Gwen Peyton]

Gwen had narrowed her eyes a bit at the comment that she was trying hard. That got a little under her skin. Still, she had to give it to the guy. He did stick around her after all this time. "See, look at me enjoying myself, when you haven't had a drink yourself yet." Gwen shoved the half-empty drink into his hands, but only playfully. "Charlie Sheen."

Gwen's jaw tightened a little at the mention of looking for another girl. The guy was pretty much half hot, half slightly annoying but she did enjoy the attention for the past several minutes. She hated to admit it, but she was growing quite attached. "The thing is, if I end up going home with you tonight, I won't be the one laid on", she snapped back, waiting for his answer.

"Sean Neville." She was just being cheeky this time.

[Uriah Kempe]

Uriah hadn't been trying to avoid drinking. Mostly he had been 'drinking in the view' if she had asked. But it definitely put him at the advantage, and he decided not to give it up. He pretended to sip from the glass she handed him and put it back on the counter before waving another over. "I may think I'm winning, but I'm certainly not Charlie Sheen." The alcohol he was offering her was obviously having an effect.

"It's ok, we'll take turns if that's ok with you," he said, leaning in to speak it more quietly in her ear. He gave another lopsided grin and wink as he moved his head away. He took a chance here and slid behind her now, one hand on a shoulder, his mouth near her ear. He had noticed her change of expression when he had mentioned another girl. As he changed his location he heard her third guess.

"Well, unless this Shawn Newman is a smoking hot ten on the sexy-scale, then no, no relation. Here's your next drink, give it another guess though." He subtly decreased the volume around them so his words could be quieter and have the more desired effect.

[Gwen Peyton]

Gwen froze a little when he'd said that they could take turns. She hadn't expected him to be this forward. It was freaky, yet a little... sexy. The alcohol that just kept on coming was taking its effect now; she was feeling a little lightheaded. She wasn't seeing double yet, but a few more and she wouldn't be able to walk straight.

The moment he mentioned--and mispronounced-- Dr. Neville's name, her mind briefly drifted to the psychiatrist. Dr. Neville was sexy in that gracefully aging, George Clooney way, but Gwen had mostly respect, and fear, for the doctor to think of him in that way. Gwen bit her lip, shivering at the feel of his breath near her skin.

"Sexy."

[Uriah Kempe]

Uriah heard her speak her fourth guess softly and gave a grin. 'Guess the old dog still has it in him' he thought. Sliding a hand down her arm he slid his fingers between hers and held her hand from the outside. Then he created a bubble of silence around them long enough to whisper one more remark in her ear, ensuring no one else could overhear. Then he helped her out of her seat, tossed a bill on the bar to pay for the drinks, and helped guide the woman out of club.



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