Grok

Grok, being the brilliant man he is, changes right there on the kitchen floor where he'd been waiting. The glowing red gem in his chest flickered under the brilliant light of the 40 watt bulb above him, and faintly the screaming souls inside might be visible... Nope, they were covered in the sleeveless jacket now.

"Does the Jon not wish to partake in this ritual? Fear not the price, Grok has saved the tributes offered by his vassals, as well as from the store of groceries." He boasts proudly, referring to his mental disability checks and rather poor paychecks. Oddly enough, Grok was good at saving up money since he lacked actual hobbies.

Henry Biafra

Henry was talking to the police about the stick and the resolving of the situation, telling them what had happened ignoring the fact that he used a stick of TNT as a deterrent. The excuse that he gave to them, was that he grabbed one of the robber’s guns and used it as leverage to stop the robbery. Before the police had arrived Henry had disposed of the stick of dynamite into the trash bin behind the store. As the cop kept interviewing Henry and Randy, the journalists came practically swarming the building, the police tried to swoo them away, they were trying to interview Henry and Randy. Henry did not see the big deal of a store robbery, it was quite a common place in the city. He wondered if today was a slow news day.

“No comment” Was all Henry said to the media people, he was feeling stressed out by the cameras being in front of his face. The woman interview and overweight camera man being the closest towards him. His face was live on television, he felt embarrassed thinking about his roommates laughing at him. Walking away from the cameras and towards the backroom, wanting to get some privacy. He was being escorted by a police officer, who though Henry was having some sort of stressful reaction. Which was not far off from the truth.

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"Fine your very persuasive Grok," Jonathan told the bumbling behemoth before tilting his head slightly as if considering something "Maybe I'll ask Jill if she would like to participate in this interesting little venture?" the skeleton chuckled which rattled his bones.

Jill Henderson

"I shall be there in but a moment!" Jill exclaimed from her room - a usual declaration. Unlike usual, she kept to her word. After two minutes, the Normal Human emerged from her sanctum adorned in a shimmering navy dress. She positively adored the way this garment's blue sheen helped to downplay the ominous violet glow that emanated from her bones at all times. But the gleam of Jill's attire failed to brighten the grumpy look on her face this evening.

"Now remember, boys," Jill began in a much duller, snarkier tone than the morning's cheer. "I am not searching for some 'man of my dreams' to 'complete me.' I accompany you merely for the complimentary beverage. The only man I must meet today is Captain Morgan."

In truth, Jill could not ingest her drink, and could not get drunk from non-magical alcohol. But nobody needed to know that. She wished to use apparent drunkenness as an excuse to moan ceaselessly about another disastrous job interview to anyone unfortunate enough to be assigned as her speed date.

The not-a-lich took one more look in the mirror and slightly rotated one of her glass eyes.

"Well, it's a quarter past seven. I suppose we should be going, unless we wish to be fashionably late."

@Sleeth @Dark Cloud

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"Hmm," Jonathan tilted his head ponderously as he stood near the entranceway "Jill do you think you could perhaps work your sorcery upon my visage?" he asked.

Grok

Grok has spent his day of waiting in front of the television, his borrowed suit already stained with coke as he eats a large bowl of scrambled eggs. "I do not understand, why does the Jerry not kill the Tom? Perhaps he is immortal! Truly a fearsome foe." He comments in his expert opinion, lifting the wooden spoon up to his waiting mouth as the others prepare.

When Jill comes out, Grok looks at her suspiciously, his eyes scanning her up and down. "Why does the Jill not take on this appearanceduring interviews? Perhaps not upsetting all spawn who see you would help. Grok too was told not to scare the young. He helpfully blurts out, before yanking another bottle cap from a coke. It appeared over the past years that a near indestructible body could fight the evils of high fructose corn syrup, and the fizzy drink represented much of his diet.

So, with a coke in one hand and a mixing bowl of eggs in the other, he looks back and forth between his bony roommates. "And the Jill cannot be a Sorcerer, she does not wear a hat. All Sorcerers wear hats."

@Dark Cloud@Zanavy

Jill Henderson

For just a second, Jill was surprised by something positive. For but a moment, a flicker of joy nearly emerged.

Then Grok had to go and ruin it.

"Because this is evening wear, Grok," the Normal Human snapped. "I'm not trying to seduce employers, I need professional attire! And maybe some GODDAMN skin, is that SO MUCH to ask of this cold universe!?"

Jill looked from Grok to Jonathan and huffed. She forced some composure to return, though her feathers were still noticeably ruffled... more of a cold anger.

"You want me to 'work my sorcery?' Fine. But it doesn't come cheap, daaahling."

The skeletal woman rummaged through her gaudy jewel-encrusted purse and pulled out a small, deep blue gem. She waved her hands spoke a few words in an ominous monotone hiss that seemed to echo from everywhere and nowhere. Her roommates could swear they heard a faint roar of thunder in the distance, though there were no dark clouds in the evening sky.

At the end of Jill's spell, the tiny jewel dissolved into dust in her hand. The sparkling blue dust flew and hovered around Jonathan for a second. The undead man seemed to grow a little "livelier," as well as that word could apply. Perhaps a bit more brightness to his bones and vigor in his posture. As a side effect, he also gained a small amount of protection from injury, in case that happened to come up. Considering the fact that all three of these knuckleheads and herself were going to one public location, Jill estimated a 50/50 chance of an unexpected brawl.

Jill admired her work with a smug smile. Her haughty expression deepened as she turned back to Grok.

"And you are correct. I am not a Sorcerer, I am a Mage. Mages earn their magic through intelligence, long study, and hard work. Not everyone has the privilege to have some magic device implanted into their ordinary selves and suddenly breeze through life. Grok."

@Dark Cloud @Sleeth @Eviledd1984

Henry Biafra

After the chaos of the media coming to interview him, he left his work place feeling tired and annoyed at what transpired. While riding his car he made a quick pit stop at his favorite liquor store, buying his favorite beer called “Bud Light Lime.” It was quite good, however his roommates had a habit of taking and drinking his beer. The main culprit was mostly Grok, but he had a meeting with his roommates to not steal his stuff. However it seemed they were not very good with listening.

Walking into the room he was told by Jill that all of them were going on a speed date. Personally he was not good at dates, his long time lover named Venessa was kidnapped by a cultist to appease the dark god Da’ynch. Ever since his bloody campaign against the cultist, he had since stopped dating women altogether. “I don’t think meeting a random woman would be such a good idea.” Putting away the case of beer into the fridge while speaking to Jill.

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"Egads Jill," Jonathan said with a slight chuckle while stroking his pointy goatee "I feel like I could box again like I did in my youth." the skeletal man said with a wistful tone in his voice, yet he was disrupted by Henry "Well if neither of you are willing to actually enjoy yourselves for once you will both get nowhere in life," he smirked and twirled his moustache.

Jill attempted to roll her eyes at John. But without the necessary muscular attachments to actually move her glass eyes, the gesture failed.

"Well, let's get this over with."

Jill sauntered out the door, closely followed by her three roommates.

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The House of Villains, now with Grok's coworker Greg in tow, reached the venue with just a few minutes to settle in before the main event began. They each received some supplies including a name tag (blank for each person to write their name, but with a number already in the corner), one ticket for a free drink, a pen clearly branded with the venue's logo, a pamphlet explaining the speed dating process, and a form to write their thoughts on each date.

"Your name tag has your lucky number on it," the perky sign-in woman explained. "Remember your number, 'cause that's how we'll randomly assign your lovely and handsome partners! The rest of the instructions are in this pamphlet, but if you have any more questions, feel free to ask me!"

Leo D'Vince

Leo walked into the speed dating room, his... well not eyes, but... sensory interfaces of his brain, intent on the small card.
Trivia Night! Trivia Night!He was a master at trivia night. It would show these people his true power! And they would give him millions so he could get a job and a house!
The sign-in woman hands Leo the name tag. "AH! A NAMETAG! FOR TRIVIA NIGHT! But why would I need a form to degrade and humiliate my trivia partner?"Leo said and then questioned. "No matter! TO trivia night!"

Grok

It had been a few hours, so naturally as the group arrived, Grok had already stained the suit he borrowed with coke. Leading their merry party with enthusiasm was a beer-gutted 40 something known as Greg. His oily red curls were combed back, and his fiery neckbeard was proudly displayed above his floral dress shirt. "Now Grok, do you remember what I told you?" He asks, placing his arm kind of over the larger man's shoulder as they had their names and numbers stuck on them.

Grok nods enthusiastically as the part comes into the room, which is dimly lit and holds an array of tables. Each one has a simple placard with a number on it pertaining to who their initial partner would be, and the men would shift to the right each time. "Yes! Ketchup is a jelly, and the world is not ready to talk about it."

"Wha- No Grok, not that."

"Modern women will never compare to young Betty White!"

With that, Greg let's out a not so quiet whisper. "I told you that in confidence dude!"

"Ah yes!Be confident! Grok remembers!"

"De... Jus- Yes. Look, just nod and don't say anything while I'm working my mojo alright?"
______________

As they headed off to their respective tables, off at table 9, a woman was waiting patiently at her table. She appears to be in her late twenty, with Auburn hair and a women's suit top visible. Next to her is a suitcase, but it seems larger than normal. Her long nails are lightly tapping on it, and she is using her other hand to meticulously make sure the table piece is perfectly centered.

@Zanavy

Henry Biafra

Henry begrudgingly joined the others on the speed date, he did not have any proper attire for the even expect for an old suit from many years ago (The suit in questions- 2.bp.blogspot.com/-GhLCvwzlgN4/W0bhHc…). The undead gunslinger felt a little out of place with his suit, however he was told by Jill that he looked fine, which did not help with his confidence. Nervously he scanned the area, the last time he had gone on a date was in 1933 with a woman named Wanda Myers. Even then he was not very good with talking with people, women especially so he felt like a monkey scuba diving.

In his mind he was thinking of some way to talk his way out of his speed date, but he had a feeling that Jill was not going to have any of it. He strayed from the others grabbing his nametag. He soon found himself paired with an attractive Asian of Korean decent by his estimation. The conversation between him and the woman was going well at first, however he felt he was not creating a good impression mentioning his job and being quite awkward around her.

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Jonathan wasn't entirely interested in actually speed dating, he simply just didn't want to admit it. It was just nice to go out for once, maybe he would be able to get one of these women to be his test subject? No, he had left that life behind and by far he was the least evil out of his roommate's so he was more inclined to prove he was at least slightly better than them.

He walked alongside them with a book in his hand, and without paying much attention he only listened to the greeter direct each of them to a seat. And he waited looking very much not amused for the woman he apparently sat across from to introduce herself. Jonathan sighed and realized he was acting like a jackass.

"Erm," Jonathan cleared his nonexistent throat "Hello...Jane? Is it?" he said glancing at her name tag momentarily, if he had sweat glands he would be sweating bullets.

The businesslike woman looked up as Jonathan sat down, her piercing gaze glancing over his magically procured face, then to his name tag. "Hello, Jonathon." She says, almost suspicious of him. Her voice is low, and each sound meticulously and clearly spoken. "I'll get right to the point Jonathon, I'm only here because my sister says I need to get out, and we need a man around. Do you think you can handle us, Jonathan?"

Her eyes narrow and she leans forward on the table. Her hands fold in front of her and her fingers interlock, her steely gaze unwavering. She's come to seal the deal, and perhaps it was the lack of sweat that challenged her with his lack of fear!

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"Well Jane," he scoffed setting his book down "I believe I can handle you, but how able are you at handling me?" he leaned in across the table with confidence dripping in his tone that was very much fake.

As Jonathan leans over the table, Jane's hands unfold and slowly she reaches down. There is a click, and her eyes remain locked onto his, never wavering until finally she sets the item on the table.

"Settle down there hot stuff!"

In an impressive feat of ventriloquism, the lookalike puppet speaks up in a high tone, while Jane stares on in her disinterested and serious look. "We know you ain't" Her other hand comes up to controlling the arm of the puppet, which refers to itself. "Man enough for all this, but the night is young. What do you do for a living Jonniboi?"@Dark Cloud

Sondra

At Table 7, a woman in her mid twenties quietly looked around at the venue's decorations, either unaware or uncaring about several pairs of eyes that chose to fall on her rather than their own respective dates. Her serene, expressionless face was further veiled by a pair of large dark sunglasses. Silky honey blonde hair fell in gorgeous waves to frame her high cheekbones, her full brick red lips, her delicately tapered chin.

The woman's attire seemed an unexpected mismatch to her polished and flirty face. She chose a high collared full length dress, colored to match her lips. The material was somewhat thick and ribbed like a light sweater, but stretchy enough to allow a glorious hint at her smooth hourglass figure. The strangest thing about the fabric, though, was that it looked threadbare. Like the dress had been passed down for generations and was on its last legs. Bits of thread unraveled from small holes in the hem and back, and one of the long sleeves looked like it had been shoddily sewn back on. Perhaps, if the men looking on were lucky, a stiff breeze could blow this conservative dress r i g h t o f f.

When the woman heard footsteps approach, she stopped looking around at the scenery and turned to her apparent date with a slight warm smile.

"Hellllo," she addressed Grok in a crooning alto voice. "Are you number seven? I'm Sondra, it's lovely to meet you."

@Sleeth

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"Erm..." it took a moment for Jonathan to digest how strange, or rather insane this woman was acting but he was a gentleman so the skeleton played along "Yes well I'm an author of several books and I enjoy poetry, as well as..." he was having trouble deciding who to talk at between the woman and her puppet.

"Erm why do you have a puppet?" it was a forethought that he simply couldn't avoid blurting out and one that he would most likely instantly regret.

The minute Jill received her welcome packet, she headed straight to the bar. She was not kidding about only coming for the free drink. If some 'charming fellow' had been 'waiting for love' for this long, the deluded sap could stand to wait a few more minutes.

The couples were already starting to mingle by the time Jill received her blue fruity drink with three different kinds of rum. She took a large sip, savoring the sweet treat with a blooming sense of burn. Then, as usual, she discreetly spit it back into the glass... and dreamed of the day she might regain an esophagus and stomach required to actually drink.

Jill ran a bony finger through her auburn wig as she approached Table 10, wondering what kind of man got dragged into this. Perhaps it would be nice to chat with a regular person, after all... as long as he didn't immediately scream or run or pull a torch and pitchfork out of nowhere. It would at least be a calm break from the usual roller coaster those bozos at home put her through.

The Normal Human halted as she spotted the lucky man at Table 10, and then she let out a quiet groan. Of course, of all the Normal Men here, she got stuck with what looked to be a slightly different flavor of the same crazy she just got away from. The man appeared to be a robot, and Jill wondered if this creature would have any personality of its own whatsoever. Perhaps some technological mastermind sent his robot to do all his dirty work, including dating. Of course, that was an admirably clever and efficient use of resources, but... ick.

Jill sat down next to Leo with a sour expression, not even attempting to play along with the romantic nonsense anymore. She took another swig, and another spit, of her rum drink. The skeletal woman sighed and looked at the form she was given, barely glancing at Leo.

"Are you a cat person or a dog person?" she flatly read off the sheet.

@DraconiWarlord