Though the sun shone brightly outside darkness engulfed everything inside Tenebris, that was how the club had gotten its name in the first place. It wasn't just because the creatures who frequented the place lived mostly in the shadows. It was owned by one of the oldest Vampires in existence. Sete was genuinely ancient, his memory stretched back to days before recorded history but no one could truly be sure of his age since there was nothing but seasons to mark the passing of time. He rarely came to the club, though, it was no longer his thing. In fact, Jensen wasn't so sure that he even recalled owning it. Some subjugated human probably made sure all the bills were paid, or else. He'd heard that Sete had a whole army's worth of humans who kept track of things for him. Since they were bonded to him by blood they never aged and remained at his side and under his rule until he saw fit to either turn them or dispose of them.

The drinks were free and though Lycans weren't capable of getting drunk Jensen nearly always had a whiskey of exquisite quality in his hand when he was in the club. It was almost always crawling with people even during the daylight hours. He was just tall enough to see over the crowd of dancing bodies and though his night vision in his skin wasn't on par with that of a Vampire's he could still see nearly as well inside the darkened club as outside. Most of the trouble was caused by the ever present swirls of smoky fog that whipped up in everyone's wake. Between the fog that densely covered the floor, the strobe lights, black lights, and the mirrors that covered the walls and ceiling Tenebris could be quite disorienting if you'd never been in the place.

He slouched, leaning on the bar as he waved for the pretty black haired bartender to get him another glass of whiskey, she knew what to pour him. Venus knew what the frequent fliers drank, she was also another subjugate of Sete and had lived in Risika for several hundred years already. The story was that Sete had saved her from something terrible because he admired her beauty but she had refused to be turned into a Vampire. Jensen could see why he would have wanted to turn her, beautiful emerald eyes that sparkled in the flashing lights paired with her new-moon-sky hair and porcelain skin. She was quite the looker with a tall lean body that though he was sure wasn't in fashion at the time of her subjugation was now something males drooled over. Despite her looks, Jensen could nearly see the darkness that swirled around her due to the effects of the Vampire blood that ran continuously through her veins. It repelled him on a primal level that he couldn't ignore, his wolf curled his lips at the thought.

Venus returned quickly with a fresh glass of whiskey for him, commenting on how nice he looked today. He simply shrugged at her comment, that hadn't been the goal. He supposed that he was particularly nicely dressed today since he'd just come from a meeting with his father. The godforsaken man thought they were the damned mafia or something. So a tailored white button down and black slacks it had been for the day. Jensen hated dressing up almost as much as he hated the inevitable and undeniable meetings with his father about him finding a mate so he could take over the pack. 'Find a good bitch son, not one of those mutts at the club I hear you go to all the time.' His father had lost his mind if he though Jensen was going to be mated at 24, absolutely lost his ever loving mind.

He thought about it with distinctive distaste as he moved through the throngs of moving bodies, paying no mind to when he was touched. It was one of the things that had truly tried his self-control when he started coming here, all of the people touching and sliding hands along his muscles. Females were the absolute worst about it. Today he was in no mood to deal with anyone, heading for the staircase to the upper floor of the club so he could watch the mass of sexually charged bodies from above and relax for once. He quickly found the booth he most commonly sat in when he was up here. He slid smoothly into the plush seating that was wrapped around the table, relaxing into the material as he sipped his whiskey.

Raven

An ever-present grin beneath the darkness of a hoodie struck the troll bobbing and weaving from one side to the other, his fists moving through the air in an intimidating manner with droplets of sweat flinging from his frame and unto the ground beneath their feet. Large and imposing, most would possess enough sense to find themselves on the running end of a troll but the fanged grin almost playful in its approach did not waver as the slight vampire moved back to his feet. Having met the ground head on was anything but a comfortable outcome, though Raven wasn’t known for succumbing to pain. A glutton for punishment, the Lamia soon found himself back on his converse clad feet before slipping that hood off to reveal a set of thick, messy hair belonging to a young and brightly smirking face. “That it?” He spoke, his voice light and to the point.

“Y’ain’t down fer’ th’count yet, kid?” The troll returned, slamming his fists together, earning a delighted chuckle from his vampiric opponent.

“I was just measurin’ ya’!” Raven shot back, tightening his fingerless gloves before charging forth. Invoking the undead prowess flowing through his veins, the vampire relished. His fist connected with the troll, the sound of shattering bone causing the audience to cheer in delight, followed by another, and a third. A troll possessed remarkable regeneration, and so did a vampire. This battle, it was one of brutal nature, one people would pay to see. No holding back, no restrictions. Just try not to kill each other, but other than that, go all out.

Retaliating, the troll threw his fist forth and managed to connect another strike. The impact was enough to launch Raven’s light weight to the ground, but he rolled back to his feet in a fluid motion. Not allowing the troll a second to collect himself, Raven evened the distance between them. The vampire awaited another strike, patience working in his advantage as he sidestepped the incoming punch and expertly parried the attack. Catching the strike, Raven placed one hand along the troll’s forearm and the other along his biceps before delivering a powerful kick to his opponent’s leg. Using the leverage, Raven broke the troll’s arm and forced him to a knee before ending the fight with a fist to the troll’s forehead.

A loud thud sealed their fight, sending a moaning troll to the ground regenerating from his wounds. As the rules dictated, spending enough time on the ground warranted your loss. Throwing his fist up in the air, Raven looked over the roaring crowed with the ever present, bright smile stretching across his lips. “Looks like we have a winner!” Breaking through the crowd’s roaring cheers was an ever familiar voice within the fighting pit. The referee made her way into ring, placing a hand on Raven’s shoulder to officially announce the victory. “You might be a new fan favorite kid! Just arrived here, huh?”

“Yup!” Raven returned, showing off that toothy grin.

“Hope we’ll be seeing more of you, yeah?” The referee returned. “Those are all the fights for today, folks!” She continued, turning her attention to the audience before dotting the end of this day’s fighting. Of course, the amount of fights in a day all boils down to how many combatants decide to sign up. During daytime, not many found the time, so to speak. This wasn’t exactly a civil activity.

Upon leaving the arena, Raven counted his daily ‘salary’ which came closely knitted to the fight club. You fight, you win, you earn money. Signing up itself offered some payment, and overall the activity was fruitful. Ever since Raven came to live with his friend Calib, it had taken him a while to find a den of scum and villainy, so to speak. No one down there in the fight club was out to kill, and no one was eager to put that amount of guilt on their conscience. It was a source of entertainment, without as many rules and restrictions as more civilly sanctioned fights. Well, there was that, and there was the supernatural aspect of it.

Treading across the path back home to Calib, Raven had told the demon about the fighting a long time ago. It wasn’t news, though Raven understood if Calib had better things to do than to hang around the vampire all the time. Especially when Raven was at ‘work’. Placing his hand on the doorknob, the vampire had arrived home, and proceeded to open the door. Even though he was essentially forty-six years of age, the Lamia all possessed a mental configuration which forced them to retain the maturity of the day they were turned. Due to this, Raven acted like his appearance would dictate, like a sixteen-year-old, and he was treated like one in turn. Calib’s mother was a sweet person, God bless her. Though, Raven was quite certain that between Calib and himself, she had her hands full with two troublemakers.

Claire was at the door first, she had an odd sixth sense about these sorts of things and as soon as Raven had touched the door, she swung it open with a bright smile, carrying a bowl and mixing something that would've been cookie dough if she was a regular housewife. She wasn't, and to think the mixture in the bowl was would've been nothing short of delusion. "Raven, - My, what happened to your clothes? Nevermind that, there's a fresh pair on your bed. Wake up Calib while you're at it, he'd sleep through Gehenna given half a chance." She said, barely giving the Lamia time to respond. "Oh, and welcome home, dear!" She said, as a quick afterthought.

"Thanks, Mrs. Raum!" Raven returned, stepping into the house before looking down at the attires he wore. They really were torn up. That troll had done a number on him, that was for sure. "Heh, I've gotta' stop tearin' up the clothes ya' give me. Bad street kid habits, y'know?" The boy managed a soft giggle before closing the door behind him and continued through the house. As for Calib, he almost made the Lamia appear a saint at times. True, Raven got into trouble quite frequently, but Calib actively sought it out. Speaking of which, the trouble Raven tended to get into was usually because of Calib.

She smiled to the Lamia. "Nothing I can't mend, and Claire's fine, dear." She said, mixing the oddly delicious/horrific mixture as she strolled back into the kitchen. Making his way to the bedroom he was borrowing from the Raum family, Raven slipped out of his rags and into a new pair of clothes. They would hold...for a while. At the very least, Raven could pay for it, given his earnings, though he was certain of Mrs. Raum's refusal. She'd never take a cent from him. "Caaaaalib!" Raven called out, peeking into the opposite room to see his demonic friend soundly asleep.

Calib was dressed in a comfy tanktop, some shorts and might as well have been catatonic. The only part of him that moved was the slow swishing of his spaded-tail. He gave a soft "Mmh~" of a groan out as he stirred, though found the bed as binding as silver, decidedly staying in it, even though he knew Raven was still watching him.

"C'mon, Lazy-Tail!" The Lamia continued, dropping down on Calib's office chair by the computer. "Wanna' go to that club everyone's talkin' about? Tene..something. Eh, Tene..braaay..?" Scratching the back of his head, Raven gently spun around in the chair, thinking it over as his attention shifted from Calib and towards his own thoughts. "Tenebris..? Fuck it, it was something gothic n' whatnot!" Stopping the chair from spinning further, Raven's eyes landed on the demon, his head tilting slightly. "Like a little lamb." The Lamia giggled.

"Tenebris, yeah." He groaned again and pushed himself up out of bed. He stretched and showed off his lean figure to no one in particular, cracking his back with a satisfying click as he sighed out. Of all the virtues he might've had, Calib didn't have modesty as one of them. He freely got changed in front of his Binder, donning the casual shirt, jeans and hoodie that made up his usual look. From supernatural demon to regular teenager in three pieces of clothing.

"Wonder what kinda' crap goes on in there." Raven added, leaning back against the chair. "I heard a lotta' vamps hang out there. Ugh, I bet there's a buncha' couch drinkin' goin' on." Couch drinking was a term used by many Lamia to refer to the night club lives of vampires, where mortals or other beings throw themselves at the vampiric creature to have their blood drained. It tended to be a rather sexual experience for many, but the vampire's ever constant glamouring probably helped. Needless to say, the act itself rubbed Raven all the wrong ways. "Y'might find a cute demonette!" He continued, chuckling as he visualized the scene. "They're called succubi, right? I've heard they're all sortsa' trouble."

"Oh you've got no idea. The girl at the bar? I think her name is Venus, I've been trying for her for ages, she's a vamp 'n' all. Succubi aren't my type though, too giggly you know? Plus, dunno how big they are into other demons, since there's no soul in it for them." While he spoke, he walked about the room grabbing various things, bobby pins, a swiss-army knife, his wallet, a fake wallet and finally, his phone. "Tenebris is alright though, music's alright and there's plenty of easy marks since everyone's drunk and dancing. Plus, plenty of pretty people."

"Hah! Always on the prowl, aren't ya'?" Raven giggled, refering to how Calib considered drunk people easy marks. He wasn't wrong. "Out to get a vamp lady?" The Lamia pondered, tapping his chin. "Ya' gotta' find out which Bloodline she belongs to." He continued, dropping down from the chair. "If ya' do that, ya' can find her Bloodline Compulsion. If she's a Daeva, you're in luck! If she's a..uh..nah, if she was a Nosferatu you'd know."
"Dunno if I can work that into a chat up line. Wait, wait, try this one..." He took a few moments to compose himself. "Baby, are you a vampire? Because I'm big into neck-romancing" He flashed a smile at his awful joke before taking the lead. "Suppose we could head over. You're buying, right Rocky?" He brushed his hair out of his face with a hand and head down the stairs with the Lamia close behind.

"Gotta' earn my keep somehow!" Raven offered, skipping behind the demon as they left his room. "Also, neck romance? Dude..." The Lamia attempted to stifle his laughter but couldn't quite manage the feat. "That is just so bad!" Raven burst out, shaking his head. "If she'll give you a drink for that, you know you're barkin' up the wrong tree, bro'!" Turning his eyes towards Claire, Raven raised his hand in a wave, followed by a bright smile. "Thanks for the change of clothes, Mrs. Ra-...er..Claire!"

"I think it's good, lay off." He said defensively, obviously proud of his awful chat-up line. "It's one of those ones that are so bad they're good, girls like it when you're kind of corny." He strolled out the door without a second thought. Claire, however, looked over to the Lamia and her delinquent son. "Out of bed and out the house, what would we do without you, Raven?" She gave him a winning smile and went back to tending the multitude of plants the living room grove contained.

---

Surrounded by her friends in a booth at Tenebris, Roe was shaking her head full of blonde hair, "I'm not going to do it." she laughed. "Go. Come on, do it!" another fair haired elf encouraged. "Come on Roe, sing the song, you have always had a beautiful voice." another girl in the group encouraged. These three girls had been friends for ages, and had spent a lot of their time in this exact booth at Tenebris. They had been drinking all night, and had been enjoying catching up since they last had gotten together. This time to celebrate the engagement of one of the girls in the group. "Come on Roe, sing it!" her friend insisted, as the other girl smiled and nodded their approval. Roe began singing loudly, a wide grin across her face:

"There is a place named shipwrecked cove placed behind a jagged rock
A boy and a girl would travel there for her to suck his co-"

"ROE!" one of the girl's exclaimed interrupting the song, her face a crimson red at the embarrassment her friend had given her in front of the other attendants at the bar. Roe giggled, "I learned that one from that boy at the bar right there." Roe gleamed, her soft round lips upturned into a grin, before her tongue stuck out playfully. "That was not the song, and you know it." the girl to be engaged said, as they shook their head. Though each of the girls knew how to have a fun time, Roe was definitely the most playful.

Taking a drink of their colorful and fruity drinks, the girls continued on with their celebration.

In no mood to be held up by the sea of gyrating bodies on the dance floor, Thalia brought her powers to full force. The air around her quickly became too frigid for most to withstand, people whipped their heads around looking over her and then down at the dainty witch who's shimmering lavender hair stuck out like a sore thumb under the black lights of the club. Darkness was the name of the game at Tenebris and Thalia didn't exactly fit the bill externally. She tended to get given hell in the club by people who didn't know she could hold her own. People stumbled and fell over one another trying to get out of her path once they realized who she was. They didn't call her the Ice Queen for no reason. The last time someone had refused to get out of her way or at least let her pass by she'd frozen him solid where he stood.

Apparently, the commotion had attracted the attention of her dear friend Jensen who was now leaned over the edge of the balcony watching her make her way through the crowd. She grinned up at him, her dark eyes reflecting like an oil slick under the flashing lights of the club. He merely raised a brow at her before returning to his seat where she could no longer see him. Once again she cast out her magic, slicking the floors just ahead of her with ice, snowflakes forming around her as she manipulated area directly around herself.

She'd barely reached the bar when Venus slid her drink across the bar to her. The instant the glass touched her slender fingers frost rippled across its surface. Spiderwebbing across the clear surface until it was no longer transparent. Venus bobbed her head at the other young woman as she made her way back to the other bar goers. She flipped her long hair back into place as she sipped from the frosty glass in her hand, inspecting the webs of ice that had crystallized on its surface beautifully.

The cocky seventeen year old walked his way into the club, he looked older than he was and identification was kind of a moot point in a supernatural town where some people were older than standardised identification, people who weren't truly citizens, in anycase, a Lamia and a demon were some of the more normal people in the line to Tenebris. Walking in, the music filtered through his head and down through his feet as the rhythmic thrum instantly got him into the clubbing mood. His eye was caught by a cute elf in a booth drunkenly singing, and the Ice Queen as she cleared a path through the club. "Hey, Raven, reckon I'm gonna take a shot at Lavender over there, what do you think?" He was smiling with excitement.

The atmosphere followed the tune of what was to be expected in a gothic club. The dim lights, the darkly clad patrons, vampires, a spellcaster sticking out like a sore thumb, it nailed every trope. "Make sure she won't give ya' blue balls! Cause'...y'know...ice..." Raven giggled in response, motioning towards the Witch. "N' if that fails, you have the Fanger by the bar, n' Sunshine over yonder." The Lamia finished, narrowing in on the mentioned women. "I'm gonna' have a look aroun' n' gather some enem-..friends." Raven nodded delightfully, offering his friend a toothy grin before swiping his eyes across the interior. Lamia didn't quite have the same level of night vision as other vampires, given their attunement to daylight, though it was enough to offer view of what was on the menu. Most of the club followed the same theme, either dancing or drinking, but what caught his eyes was something else entirely. Arm wrestling. What appeared to be a demon went up against an ogre in a test of strength, their muscles rippling from the feat with sweat pouring down their foreheads. Two half empty glasses of alcohol stood on the table, untouched since the match had begun, and nearly shook in response to their contest. "I am so in!" Raven exclaimed to no one in particular, probably reaching no one but Calib with his words.

He smiled to himself at his excited Binder; they had very different definitions of fun. With a friendly pat on the back that reassured he'd find him later, he split off on his way, making quick, graceful and very subtle strides over to 'Lavender', casually sneaking a hand and taking a wallet from some very drunk, but happy patron, as if he was just reaching into his own pocket. He looked over the leather, and deciding it was better than his, ditched the cards (apart from the library card) and put it into his pocket, taking a near-enough full drink on the way, just before landing at the bar, as Venus went to serve someone else. He regarded 'Lavender' with a smile, trying to speak just above the noise of the club. "Hey, if I said I liked your clothes would you hold it against me?" He tried his best, but good looking witches were definitely his bane, and the cracks would show in his usually cool smile.

Thalia didn't bother to turn when she was spoken to, "Would you hold it against me if I froze you to the bar?" She questioned, pursing her full lips that had taken on a shade a deathly blue with the use of her gifts. The lad speaking to her was quite a bit taller than she was, but then again most people tended to be. It wasn't until after she'd taken another sip of her drink and exhaled a breath so cold it created snowflakes even in the warmth of the club that she turned to actually look at who was speaking. She couldn't immediately pin his ancestry and though it intrigued her it wouldn't be very long before Jensen realized that someone was holding her up and came to investigate. That generally didn't end well. The young witch called out with her magic to the staff that belonged to her coven and the large dog that lay just outside the club. It wasn't a few moments later that panicked squalling could be heard from just next to the doors as the creature made its way to her. He'd been a gift from Jensen and though he wasn't technically supposed to be in the club there wasn't really anyone who would speak about it. Thalia smiled fondly at the creature when he reached her, butting his enormous head into her hand for some affection. Her slender hand came up just in time to catch the hurdling worn willow staff before it hit either of them. "I'm going upstairs." Was the only thing the witch offered before she headed off in the direction of the tall staircase, not looking to see if he dared to follow her. She had a feeling he wouldn't be able to resist.

"Kinda depends really on whether or not you'd stay with me while I was frozen." He said, still trying his best to be charmingly disarming as he remembered to drink, relaxing a little after, though the state of the pale blue lips, the visibly cold air on the warm and the face that regarded him was a potent combination to make the descendant of Raum squirm a little bit. Nevertheless, he stayed, watching a dog its way through to them, though refrained from petting it as 'Lavender' did. Dogs didn't usually get on with him, they usually guarded things he wanted to get into, like private property. He sat in a bit of awkward (for him) silence before the witch made her intentions clear. "Mind if I come with you?" Came his response, and the lack of an answer wasn't a good enough condemnation of a 'yes' for Calib to stop trying. He brushed back some hair over his horns and made sure to look as good as possible, maybe even fussing a little in his nervousness before he stood up, daring very much to follow the bewitching figure.

Raven

Making his way across the dance floor, a feat in itself considering the mass of people inhabiting the slick surface, Raven evened the distance between himself, and the point of interest. The ogre had won, besting the demon's strength in a combat of prowess. The loss promptly lead to a hearty swig of the pint now placed against the demon's lips, accompanied by victories cheering by those betting on the winning arm. "Anyone else!?" The ogre's voice bellowed through the scene, making the very air ache at his presence. A dramatic entrance was highly expected of an ogre, indeed. He took to his heritage with pride, that much was certain.

"Me!" A light voice broke through, shifting everyone's focus to the newcomer, a mere boy in comparison to the beasts finding this corner a section of relevance.

Raising a large, bushy eyebrow in response, the ogre as if torn from a story book glared daggers at the slight vampire, his face soon squinting to a grin upon realizing the truth behind Raven's statement. "Boy..." He began, raising an enormous hand to settle the scratch upon his chin. "Don't be stupid." The ogre finished, crossing his arms.

"Aw, don't worry! I won't hurt you much!" Ever the jester, Raven retorted as he slid into the opposing seat. His words managed to earn more than a few laughs from the spectators, and that ever present grin upon his lips surly caused for provocation.

"Hurt me?" The ogre shot back. "Don't know what you are, kid..." Stretching and cracking his neck, the ogre placed an arm at the table. "But you've got a big mouth."

"Got an even bigger -..." The vampire giggled before joining the ogre on the table, his small hand completely engulfed by his opponent's giant mitt. "...ego."

"I love this kid!" Another voice rang out, giving Raven's shoulder an friendly punch. "Alright, begin!" The same voice announced, causing the two combatants to initiate their battle.

The ogres fist clenched around Raven's hand, something which would have broken it was the boy a mortal being. Looking into the vampire's eyes, the ogre couldn't help but find himself caught off guard by the stone hard grip he was greeted with. Those ever grinning eyes met his in a contest similar to their arm wrestling. It was at this point that the ogre was coming a realization. Raven was neither breathing, nor were his muscles tightening. It was if the boy was a statue, his body unmoving. Neither could the ogre sense any form of heat emanating from the boy's hand. True, his skin appeared completely human with both warmth and touch, however it did not grow warmer due to the clenched embrace of fists.

Most notably, Raven did not appear to grow fatigued or tired. His expression never changed, his eyes never moving from place. The boy wasn't alive, that was now certain. One should perhaps also note that Raven was a scrawny, little street punk. His arms were tiny and his muscles were barely visible if at all, yet his arm wasn't moving an inch. "Vam-...!" Before the ogre could finish his sentence, Raven's grin widened and he shoved the opposing hand down onto the table with enough force to leave a crack upon the wood.

"...pire!" The boy finished, raising his fist in victory. Challenging a vampire in a contest of stamina was never a decent idea. The undead did not tire, and few of them, like the Lamia themselves, required sleep.

"You cheated!" The ogre burst out, massaging his arm. "You aren't even alive!"

"Dude, I am feelin' so fuckin' alive!" Raven shot back with a giggle.

It was then that an ogre's well known temper reached a climax. Humiliated by a mere teenager, one who looked like he could use another ten meals on top of that, cut deep. With clenched fists, the ogre threw a punch across the table. Moving aside, Raven evaded the blow, but it came in contact with another rowdy patron behind his chair. This of course lead to retaliation, which in turn accelerated the fight with more participants. "Woo! Barfiiiight!" The overly excited vampire exclaimed before getting knocked down from the chair.

The tiny witch had been idly making her way through the crowd, people for the most part allowing her to pass without much trouble at all. That was until just before she reached the steps a fight broke out not far away. Fights were pretty common, drunk supernaturals tended to get even rowdier than humans did. It wasn't until someone got thrown into the witch that it became her problem. Nearly knocked down by the drunken fool someone had tossed several feet was not in tonight's plans or on Thalia's list of things she wished would happen sometime in the near future, or ever for that matter. Saying she was hot-headed simply wasn't the right wording, the lavender haired young woman was anything but.

She cursed under her breath as her companion snarled, baring his teeth at the creature who had dared touch her. The dog guarded Thalia as if she were the most precious thing he had ever encountered. This was exactly what she had hoped not to happen tonight of all nights. At least she was wearing jeans today, her grasp tightened around the worn staff that the elders had given her. It was a place to harbor the coldness that she carried. Thalia had been born at the exact moment the winter solstice reached its peak. Imbued with the spirit of winter itself, the young girl had made it clear early on that she was a unique case. The last solstice witch had been born nearly four centuries earlier and died long before her birth.

Her breath created a cloud of snowflake filled air as she pulled winter's touch from the staff. It engulfed Thalia, turning her already pale skin even whiter until it was the color of freshly fallen snow, her eyes darkened until they were little more than black, her full lips turned a deathly blue with the cold that filled her. The only thing that remained similar to its original state was her lavender hair, though it lightened in color some it stayed purple in color, shimmering softly like snow in the sunlight. She pressed the staff grasped tightly in her hand into the floor of the club. In a rush of cold and magic, the witch froze the patrons one by one. Once the ones further away realized what was happening they rushed, trying to flee the cold but Thalia paid no mind. Her rage as cold and unrelenting as the winter cold that filled her body.

It wasn't until she reached the heart of the fight that she gave pause. "I would recommend fighting outside next time." Her eyes were the first thing to return to their normal soft baby blue color, rimmed with a darker blue. Her parlor seemed to darken slightly towards its normal color as she turned to the young man following her. "Come on, they'll thaw out in an hour or so. Jensen is waiting. He's an impatient fucker."

---

Jensen could hear the fight on the floor below easily, it had started with a small scuffle and developed into a full on brawl between quite a few of the patrons. His only worry was that someone would hit his tiny witch by accident. She was easily injured simply as a result of being so small. She was barely over five feet tall and built like the most fragile looking faerie he'd ever seen. She was beautiful but lethal, especially when someone touched her. He could smell that she had Roan with her, the dog's smell easily distinguishable from the other scents in the club.

The lycan cringed when he heard the crack of ice developing along the floor. It was a sound that he was familiar with. He shivered just thinking about when Thalia had frozen him. That had been the first time they'd ever met, he'd been the one in a bar fight along with several of his pack members and she had frozen them all solid as ice cubes and left them to thaw out as casually as if she did it every day. He stood swiftly and strode to the railing that overlooked the majority of the club below and saw that she'd effectively frozen at least twenty or so patrons. He hated when she let the cold take over, she was sort of frightening though he would never admit to such a thing.

Roan was at her side, teeth bared and daring anyone to touch her. Jensen had found the dog, he wasn't sure exactly what kind of dog Roan was but he'd given him to Thalia when he was a small pup. He had a feeling the dog was no ordinary creature, he came up well past Thalia's waist and had turned into an enormous beast with a glint of intelligence in his eyes that made Jensen suspicious. Despite that intelligence hidden in the depths of the dog's cold dark eyes he never strayed far from Thalia and he guarded her fiercely. The dog looked a lot like an oversized blackish colored wolf but his scent was all domestic dog, Jensen had a theory that the dog was some sort of spelled creation of a witch. Whatever he was he belonged to Thalia now and Thalia to him.

Jensen watched idly as Thalia spoke to the people at the center of the fight, a Lamia vampire, an orge, and some other creature. He chuckled lightly at her words, most of the club had gone silent but for the loud pounding music. It was the creature trailing behind her that gave him pause, though, some sort of demon. Thalia always drew in odd creatures, perhaps because she herself was so unique. It was something he had learned over the years.

When she neared the top of the stairs he moved easily to meet her, offering to take her drink and her hand. She humored him, stretching to kiss his cheek after handing him her drink and letting him help her up the last couple of stairs. They were quite the odd pair of friends. "You made quite the scene this time Thalia," She simply shrugged at him, offering little more than a brief grin about the situation. He turned his attention easily to the young man following Thalia, clearly hoping to get her attention. "Jensen Castille, a pleasure to meet you. I promise Thalia isn't quite as frosty as she appears to be." He chuckled lightly, returning Thalia's drink so that he could offer up his hand to shake.

Raven

Moving his bangs from place, Raven ascended to his feet. After having been socked in the face, he returned the favor by retaliating and punched the culprit hard enough to send him into a nearby wall. "Got ya'!" The boy exclaimed, that ever present grin meeting his next opponent as another person stepped into the fray. The fights would however reach a sudden halt before Raven could get into the heart of battle. Stopping a fight including a Lamia would almost be considered a sin by the species, but Raven noticed how everyone around him were starting to feel winter's cold embrace. Raven himself wasn't touched by the effect. He wouldn't have noticed the change in temperature had there not been visible cues. The slight amount of frost appearing on his clothes was enough to confirm his suspicions.

The vampire turned around to see a new addition to the fight, or rather, someone with the gall to stop it. A Witch. Raven never particularly liked spell casters. They all tended to follow the same theme, and they all tended to be delighted with a stick up their ass. It was all too common to see them consider themselves nobility among peasants. One could however not argue with her reasoning. If the fight was to continue, they could indeed move the battlefield outside.

In either event, her intervention had been enough to douse the fiery spirits of most fighters in the bar. Their will to do battle had been critically diminished and this left Raven thoroughly dissatisfied. Forcing combat on those who had laid down arms was however not the Lamia way. Such would be tantamount to sullying a holy tradition with impurity.

With a heavy sigh, the vampire made his way towards the bar and dropped down on a chair. They, of course, had blood on the menu. It was all going to be tasteless, given the circumstances. At least that removed the need to pick and choose. "Wonder how Calib is doin'. Think I saw him with Cold Tits." Raven thought, sipping from the newly acquired drink served by dearest Venus. She appeared used to this, enough so not to react to another vampire. The species was a commodity, and frequently visited the establishment. For now, Raven could only sip from his drink and wait for Calib to finish whatever he was going to do with that lady.