Dance Dance Revolution [OPEN]

[Minque]

Saliya Alerei

Saliya's team was back together, bar the one commando she'd lost on Omega. Unfortunate but ultimately the commando's own fault mixed with a little bad luck. She'd gotten caught snooping and hadn't enough time to send off a call for back up. They'd found what was left of her about to be thrown into the recycling vats. It hadn't looked like Eclipse handiwork, though, which was worrying but ultimately up to Omega security and Aria to decide what to do with. Saliya had a mission to complete. Maybe after she would go to Omega, go to Aria, and exchange something for information. Then, she would get vengeance for her fallen battlesister.

Their fallen battlesister was precisely how she found herself at Purgatory. It was a step up from Chora's Den but not as clean and pristine as Dark Star or Flux. There was a seedy unbelly too, it just wasn't full of strippers to shove it in your face. Hallex and Red Sand exchanged hands, people whispered in dark corners with their drinks more for show than for enjoyment, and all manner of alien whores plied their trade for no one who was attractive could be so adamant about the company of the boorish or unattractive people they were picking up. Purgatory was almost exactly like Chora's Den once you scratched the surface a bit.

The commando's were having a night of toasting to those who had fallen and they were doing a good job of not looking like commando's. Saliya was less inclined to be so free but she allowed them this one night of sad celebration before she demanded they return to the mission at hand. Her mind had never left the mission. Even as she sat at her own little table with a glass of strong asari liquor in her hand and an eye on the rowdy booth before her, she was mulling over the information her team had brought back from Omega. The base they were looking for was not in the Terminus Systems after all, but in Citadel space - and right under asari noses too. The audacity both alarmed and amused her.

One of the commando's toasted her drunkenly and the rest raised their glasses, hollering for her. She smiled at them, raising her glass in return, but didn't join them. If they were not on a mission they knew she would be just as wild as them. They did not begrudge Saliya her self-control. If anything, it was why they continued to follow her to hell and back.

A flicker of eyes down to her omnitool and she realised how late it was. She was happy for her team to spend their time like this but Saliya was getting sick of the pounding music. She would not allow herself enough alcohol to enjoy this.

[cogs]

| | Ovidius Satyris
_{Placing a smile at the perfect event}

It had never been in Ovidius’ nature to mingle within septic pools of the population. One such was Purgatory, not even the name sounded appealing. Yet, Felixa insisted on bringing him along with her “friends”. His younger sister was intent on her dear brother getting out and interacting with people. Even if he insisted on keeping his armor on. Eventually she’d get him to loosen up. The turian did bring a change of formal clothing, and tonight was the night she had bagged him into it.

Adorned with his preference of white and gold attire, Ovidius was dragged into Purgatory and sat down in a booth among his sister’s friends. They were roudy, and who could blame them? Most of them were from C-Sec and had worked long, hard days. Felixa was always the fun one, he realized. Always there to lighten the mood in some way or another. Ovidius rested his head in his palm, his mandibles clicking in thought as his eyes wandered off to the side. There was nothing more he wanted right now than to escape the crowded area and be left alone to his own devices. Yet such an option was not a possibility here.

The bass reverberated off the table, and Ovid could feel his innards shaking with the beat. Not in a good way, of course. He had no idea how to dance, and he wasn’t keen on learning to. The turian, instead excused himself, much to his sister’s dismay, and wandered around the club. “Be back soon! You’ll miss the party, Ovid!” She had said affectionately, and he in return,” Yes, yes. Sooner, or later.” Emphasis on the later. The plan was to entertain himself for a good while until they got drunk and left.

The question was, however, what he was going to do in that time span. He could not leave without his sister, and he rather not come under fire for ditching later. Alcohol brought him no enjoyment, the drink of temptations and bad decisions. Nothing else seemed viable, however. Asari dancers lined the club like blue cushions and there were all sorts of nasty business going on. Something nonalcoholic would be fine to pass the time. Blend in, maybe.

Much like the Great Gatsby, Ovidius held a cup of water in his heads. Looking very bored, and very uninterested. In fact, if he were about to be attacked, right now, he would be taken completely unaware. There was work to be done, things to get back to, and his sister was taking her sweet time. Of course he did not mind, but it was still irritating. He had found a lone table further off from his original seat. Ovid intended to fly under the radar, but it really just made him stick out. A well dressed turian with a stern posture drinking some sort of clear liquid off to the side watching the dancers. One might think he was some guilty dignitary.

There is simply nothing else to do.

Well, besides try to push back sneering thoughts towards the drunkards.

[Minque]

Saliya Alerei

Purgatory was like excrement dipped in a thin layer of gold; it only looked good. To the drunk or high, Purgatory was like the goddess' own abode but to the sober, like Saliya, all the cracks in the veneer were obvious and when someone didn't fit because there was a little too much shiny gold on them, they were really obvious. The one who had caught her eye this time was a bored turian, sitting alone and drinking something clear. It was odd to see someone drinking something that wasn't a garish colour. He looked terribly out of place - well-dressed, bored, and very sober. He looked like a diplomat, except for the heavy scarring across his face, and diplomats were almost never found in Purgatory.

Apparently Saliya wasn't the only one who'd noticed, although she suspected her reasons were different from the commando who had just half-stumbled, half-strutted over to the table.

Usually, Saliya was happy to watch situations like this but usually she didn't know the people involved. Judging by the look on the turian's face, he didn't want company and certainly not from a drunk asari who had a habit of being rather aggressive when she wanted something. Saliya stood and not two seconds after she walked toward the turian's table, her own table was commandeered. She was not getting it back. It made her sigh.

She came up to the table, hearing the asari talking in that too loud, slightly slurred voice that drunk people used when they thought they sounded normal. It made her wince. The commando wasn't even talking about anything interesting.

"Amalia, go dance," she said, nodding her head to the dancefloor on the upper level of the club. "You're drunk and he's not. There's easier prey."

"Mmm, but he's so sexy with that scarring. I guess you can have him though. Good luck, ma'am," Amalia said, saluting sloppily before lurching to the feet and following her commander's advice.

Saliya chuckled, shaking her head and rolling her eyes before looking at the turian. She wanted to take a seat since she'd just lost her table but knew better than to sit without invitation, unlike Amalia. "My apologies for Amalia. Her perceptiveness of who does and doesn't want her company is heavily compromised when she's been drinking."