((Suckish post ahead!))

Ah, the ghetto of Daten City; the neglected easternmost section with cracked roads and concrete buildings. The worst of the worst lived here in near-abject poverty. The centermost edge consisted of some of the best entertainment in Daten City, though. Everyone came here. One of the clubs--Mystique was featured on Clubs, Bars, and Taverns for their signature drink, "dragon baby shot", which they claimed was made out of actual dragon babies. Magenta wasn't sure, but Mystique was still a great club, and she came here tonight.

Magenta stepped out of the city bus and looked at the club in question. A purple, square building with a very fancy neon sign--one of those where the lady's legs swung up and down. It was a stripper girl dressed in a devilish outfit, complete with the fake tail and pitchfork. Magenta grinned and skipped inside.

There was a live band today; a group of Asian women singing a really trancy song in an accent. Something about sugar water. Magenta frowned. Damn, not a good dance song! Oh well. She crossed the flashing rainbow dance floor and sat down at the bar and crossed her legs. She was wearing her best outfit: a leather black minidress, black rabbit fur heels, and her good Hell-made bra. The bartender looked her up and down when he thought she wasn't looking. Magenta smirked and held out her hand, "Crown and coke, please."

The bartender smiled and quickly handed her the drink. Magenta pulled some bills out of her bra and handed the wad to him. Probably way too much for just that drink and a tip, but it wasn't her money anyway, it was that rich dude's from last night.

Magenta sipped her drink and scanned the dance floor for some hot a**. So far she was out of luck. It seems this trancy song created a lot of couples. Some were even leaving!

Brace unzipped his jacket and lazily tossed it on the tattered couch before entering his bedroom. Many pieces of spare clothing, mostly his own, littered the floor instead of being properly in the small basket he had designated "Dirty Clothes." He grabbed a wearable looking long-sleeve button up, and sniffed it before deciding it smelled good enough to be masked by the scent of his cologne. He glanced at his arms. Should he unwrap the gauze? Would the bright yellow bands be too gaudy to wear? His answer to both of these questions was a resounding "Meh" but the gauze was getting kinda itchy, so he decided to unwrap his arms after putting on some cologne.

He placed the bracelets under his shirt and left the house. Normally, he didn't really go to big clubs and stuff, he frequented the smaller bars. Tonight though, he had decided to treat himself nicely, and besides, the apartment building was walking distance from Mystique, a club with an amazingly original name, obviously. They also had this stupid drink called Dragon Baby Shot, which was probably full of marketed cr#p. Like, c'mon, everyone knows dragons don't exist.

At the entrance to the club, he flashed his ID at the bouncer, and entered, deftly dodging through the mass of dancing bodies and getting himself to the other side of the club quite fast. The music was... Odd, and the lyrics were difficult to understand because of the mix of an accent on the main singer, and the amount of people conversing. But, whatever, he wasn't here to hear some great tunes, he was here to enjoy himself. He sat down at the bar, got the tender's attention and asked him for a White Russian. The bartender had to be shown Brace's ID, again, before placing the drink down in front of him. Brace pulled out his slightly worn wallet, and placed enough bills on the counter to cover the drink, and a small tip. He wasn't exactly a charity, but he liked to give.

Brace lamented his inability to not look like a moron dancing before scanning who was up at the bar. Nobody that interesting, except some hot demon gal who seemed to be scanning the rainbow colored candy land of the dance floor. He looked over at it to see lotsa couples, and people already up and outing, probably for the expected reasons. Apparently, most people liked the song even though it seemed like it was pretty much impossible not to tune out absolutely everything but the song to fully appreciate it. Brace took a swig of his drink before approaching the previously mentioned demon babe. "Hey." He said, sitting next to her.

Tank didn't sleep much that night, quite obvious from the circles underneath his eyes. He was far too concerned pinpointing the exact locations of the demon sightings he received from informants, witness testimonies, and news clippings. From what he had researched, there were at least three demons residing in the city and in charge of the ghosts roaming the streets. Although he had specifically asked to be sent to this city, he wasn't so sure about his logic behind that decision any more. It was only him and P.H. at the moment and he didn't expect any other angel to be coming down to help them any time soon. So he decided to put his other research projects on hold and focus on coming up with some plan to get the upper hand against the demons.

It was dawn when Tank finally came across something that might help him. Taking a swig of black coffee, he exited his room located in one of the towers of St. Sebastian, the elaborately designed and expensively furbished church resting in the outskirts of Uptown that also doubled as the angels' headquarters. He crossed the bridge suspended high above the nave, just right on top of the altar. The sun streamed down through the intricate stained glass windows, making the walkway much more colorful than it really was. But Tank ignored all this beautiful hullabaloo and strode to the other tower. He was still a few yards from the door but he could still make out the loud bass of some metal song P.H. enjoyed. Deciding she wouldn't even hear his knock, Tank decided to just barge right in.

"Hey P.H., I got a lead on where those demons might be staying. If we strike first, we'll be able to catch them by surprise."

"N...No! Please! HEL..."

"SHUT UP YOU DUMB BITCH!"

The brickwork of Mystique's alleyway echoed the smacking of flesh against flesh before the young woman was slammed into it, her aggressor pinning her there with an animistic lust in his eyes as the muffled music coming from inside of the club helped not only set the mood but ensure no one heard anything and intervened.

At least, that was what the man had clearly intended to happen. Count didn't see the man's face as his first whip coiled around his neck and tightened, but he suspected that surprise would be the front runner. It would be swiftly followed by pain as the second whip came up in between his legs and struck one of the two smaller of the three targets presented in the crotch with a loud, painful crack. As the man fell over backwards in pain the only reason he wasn't screaming loudly was because he was being choked by the first whip.

Count approached the downed man before placing the heel of his black shoes against his throat as he loosened him the whip a bit. Wearing a pair of black suit pants and wearing an iron, clean red buttoned shirt that seemed to match the full pair of fashionably red feathered wings that were now on full display that matched his glowing red halo, Count offered the woman a friendly smile as he asked "Are you alright Ms?" The still shaking woman merely nodded her head dumbly at the question, still surprised that this was in fact happening.

Once the woman's safety was assured, Count's friendly smile turned into a completely different type of smile altogether as he turned to look at the downed 'would be' rapist. It was the kind of smile that was worn by people who call you 'Friend' when they blocked you off while traveling in a dark alley. It was not a friendly smile. "Well then my friend, it looks like this is your lucky day. If you had had the misfortune of running into any other angel, they would have ripped off your dick and been done with it. I on the other hand am prepared to give you a choice in how this encounter ends. The first option is that I let you up, all three of us will go on down to the nearest police station and you can confess your attempted raping of this young lady and any other such crimes that I'm sure you've had more success with in the past and plead guilty whenever you are asked to for your crimes. The second option is that we don't go to the police, but I rip off and destroy testicles so that you never feel horny again. Your call."

((So sorry everyone! Apparently I'm a full timer now at Walmart. I don't remember signing up for 40 hour weeks, though...))

Magenta lazily scanned the dance floor. A bunch of silly humans in pairs, moving half-heartlessly to the rhythm of the trance music. It looked inviting, but Magenta didn't want to dance to slow music. You don't go to the clubs for slow dancing! There are authentic ballrooms for that. No, you come here to dance to techno and pick up studs for the night, and if you're lucky, he covers your tab. If not...well, the roofies help. She hopes the bartender wouldn't notice like last time. She still wasn't allowed in The Bronze....

"Hey." A male demon sits next to Magenta with a drink in his hands. She smirks and looks him up and down. Not bad...short, just like she likes them. Magenta goes for the effiminate boys, after all. She loves to dominate men in bed.

"Hello!" She responded and stirred her drink with her finger.

Count had, once upon a time, taken it upon himself to learn the concept of Darwin's theory of evolution if only because anything that pissed off the worshipers of his mother without being purely demonic in nature was worth taking a look at. He had to hand it to Darwin that he had plenty of good points and it seemed like the exact kind of system that Mother would set up because it meant she would have to do fuck all to maintain it.

When the would be Rapist pulled a knife and attempted to attack him despite the pain and horribly poor position, Count knew exactly what a just and fair punishment for stupidity was.

There was a stomp, the sound of something fleshy giving a sickening pop and a scream that would really piss off any dog within quite a large radius, as well as freak out everyone within hearing range, Count did his duty to humanity by helping to clean up the gene pool a bit. Thankfully it was short lived as the idiot passed out from the pain quickly enough.

Letting the whips return to their original state and pocketing them as his aura faded away, Count looked up to speak with the would be victim... only to find her missing. Looking around for a moment and failing to find her, Count shrugged before leaving the alleyway behind. Without a care in the world, walking by the bouncer who had passed by him to investigate the unearthly noise in the alleyway before entering the Mystique uncontested.

Taking a spot at the bar and catching the bartenders attention with the natural charismatic ease of the devil himself he merely requested "Two dragon baby shots please." Before turning to look over the club while he awaited his order.