Owner	Pose
Dane Whitman	Today was a bit of a marathon at the music hall. The noted swordsman Dane Whitman has already enjoyed the works of one conductor, and is on his second. He didn't catch the name, but he recognizes the work of Shostakovich anywhere. The man in black is parked in the nose bleed section, somewhat reclined with one leg crossed over the other in shameless enjoyment over the lack of anyone to his right or left. Just because he's a member of multiple organizations doesn't mean he always craves company. No matter what the saying about misery. That's one thing about Russian symphony. There's always a distinct undercurrent. Really, it's there in all slavic art. If it's Russian, it's tragic. It only varies in degrees.
Satana	In the row behind, a couple also too cheap to get good seats seems to be enjoying each other's attention more than the concert. Squirming. Hushed giggling. The sound of cloth rubbing against cloth. Then cloth over skin. Catching of breath and light sighs. And, of course, inevitably, the leg (or legs) thumping the back of Dane's seat. "You're absolutely right," the younger, feminine voice says in a coy purr. "It's more fun in public." The elder, male voice murmurs something presumably obscene causing the woman to gush, "Oh, Walter, you're so nasty!" Voice drops an octave. "I just love nasty men!" That voice sounds familiar. Especially with that octave drop. "Come in for a kiss..." It couldn't be. Could it?...
Nikolas Kamarov	Meanwhile, Niko has been forced to attend by virtue of one of his superiors deciding he just had to have a metahuman bodyguard today to impress his newest girlfriend. Which Niko's immediate superior allowed in order to curry a bit of favor. Niko himself isn't overly a fan of such music, but it could be worse.     Such as he could be forced to see his current patron and companion suck face....oh wait. He is being forced to do this.     It is as much worst as he would have thought.
Dane Whitman	Dane WAS enjoying himself. Very much past tense at this point. He was under specific orders to unwind after his year of not-vacy. When your superior is an empath, they tend to recognize certain things. So, Dane is not understanding or appreciative when his nemesis of the moment is making her bid to render Niko unemployed. This would probably be a situation that Satana could actually get away with such, if not for the fact that her chosen victim just had to keep kicking the back of HIS SEAT! Probably not a heroic attitude on his part. Almost certainly not chivalric. But Dane was, again, specifically ordered to take a chill pill for a bit. How can he do that when he keeps getting kicked in the back? After the third or fifth time, Dane turns and ahems. Then grumps,"Hey. Satana. Do you mind? Are we really going to have to do this again?"
Satana	Just before the kiss lands, Satana's eyes light with the very fires of Hell. Her chosen victim, lost in his gropes of her body, doesn't see this, but, say, a bodyguard might. If he weren't so repulsed by an elderly man groping a woman in her early twenties. The man's twisted, distorted, evil-stained soul reaches Satana's perceptions and she starts to slowly imbibe it, savouring the sensation when... 'Hey. Satana. Do you mind?' The pleasure her extraction causes brings her prey the height of ecstasy, all the better to keep him docile while she feeds, but she can't feed if Dane is ... Shit. "Oh, ... Dane, right?" she asks, looking past her shoulder at Dane, ember eyes fading as she smiles 'pleasantly'. "I didn't see you there. Sorry for the fuss." Satana's victim groans in unspeakable passion. And now Niko sees something he'll never unsee: his patron's O-face. Fixed, seemingly, for the moment, as if in rigor mortis. "Uh... Maybe I should take my 'date' somewhere else?" she offers to Dane. "Or were you offering to join in? 'Cause I'm down for that too."
Nikolas Kamarov	t     Oddly, this DOES suggest to Niko that something may not be on the up and up.     The silver-haired man narrows his eyes, his gaze sharpening before he steps forward, putting a hand on the back of his patron's seat. Then pulls.     There's a CRACK of screws sheering as the chair is pulled back and away from Satana and Dane along with said patron, still caught in the throes of passion and pleasure and he's just not going to ever get that image out of his head.     The other two more mundane bodyguards by the door react by moving up to see if they can snap the elderly Russian official out of it.     "I have concerns about your idea of a date." he says, tilting his head slightly.
Dane Whitman	The man in black can't really make TOO big of a fuss because the word 'hypocrite' does mean something in his world. Which is why he confines his belly aching to getting KICKED IN THE FREAKING BACK! Really, he would have sat over by the (bored) orphans on their field trip from the boys home if he wanted to get jostled. Which is also why he's glad Niko is apparently a solid pick for a bodyguard, saves him from having one more thing to kick himself over. Dane rolls his eyes as he replies to Satana,"The former would be good enough if his man there doesn't object to your, erm...enthusiasm."
Satana	Satana is unceremoniously dumped to the floor by Niko's sudden violence to innocent furniture. The cracking sounds cause a stir in the audience with nearer audience members suddenly deciding they have to be anywhere else right now while farther ones crane their necks to see what's going on. An usher comes ... sees what's going down and newps the Hell out. Not worth the minimum wage paycheque to get involved. Satana gets to her feet from the floor, eyes blazing (literally) with anger for a moment before she takes a quick look around and stops. Closes her glowing eyes, the opens them again without the glow, body language relaxed. Sultry. Seductive. "My, aren't you the strong one!" she coos as she adjusts her disarrayed clothing to cover ... well, let's be honest, not much difference between before and after in terms of how much is revealed. Only what. Barely. "But I don't understand what issues you have with our dating. Doesn't he look happy?" He does. Unnaturally so. And as he slowly comes around he seems a bit dazed, confused, and disoriented.
Nikolas Kamarov	Niko grunts a bit, narrowing his eyes at Satana, then glances to Dane. "You know this one?" he asks, glancing back to her a bit. He saw those glowing eyes, apparently. He doesn't seem particularly put off by it really. "I have reason to believe you may be unhealthy. Like smoking. Or Russian roulette." he notes dryly. "Is not good for principal to drop dead from happiness. Is not allowed in Russia."
Dane Whitman	Dane realizes his relaxing night out has been irreparably interrupted, and so rises from his seat with a huff before breathing his reply to Niko,"Yes, I know that one. I think." He glances around, noting the others relocating and shrugs helplessly as he clutches his sides and purses his lips. He's thinking hard about how to resolve this situation. There's going to be problems, and it's been a good day all in all up to this point. He'd like to keep it that way, if he can. That likely means negotiations of a sort are in order. So Dane makes the effort,"She's probably not. She's not irrational though. Say...someone whose health other than his needs a turn for the worst? And who also has something worth her time." Dane arches a brow at Satana at this. The music hall is no place for a fight...
Satana	Satana looks at Dane with outrage in her face. "You think!? I would think the night you and I shared would be unforgettable!" she huffs. Then winks at Dane. "It sounds like we need a repeat performance to refresh your memory. Are you busy tonight after we get through this?" Then Niko gets her attention. Arm across her chest. Well, under the chest. Because reasons. Elbow of the other arm resting on the hand of the first. Fingernails ... no, talons now? Or were they always such? ... tapping at her teeth as she rakes her eyes over Niko appraisingly. A too-loud laugh. "Dane, you know me. I'm a lover, not a fighter!" she says with cheerful abandon. "So if your friend here can arrange another date for me. One that he doesn't care so much about, I mean. That would square things off, fine. And after that maybe the three of us could party." A sultry wink is directed at Niko. "Ask Dane. My parties aren't all ... health-damaging. Assuming you've got the endurance to keep up, I mean." She places that hand from her face down to her hip, posing expectently. "So how is it sugar? You got a date for me with a soul as deliciously stained as that one? Filled to the brim with the glorious scents of murder, adultery, and fornication?"
Nikolas Kamarov	Niko blinks slightly at the wink. 'I am not party people. I am party pooper.' he rumbles bemusedly. "Not my circus, not my monkeys if you get other date. I just make sure he..." He thumbs at the still recovering patron. "...doesn't die." He makes a faint shooing motion. "If you want date, go find nice venture capitalist, they are used to drinking people dry."
Dane Whitman	Dane hrms in feigned disappointment at Niko's response, then asides to Satana,"I tried. And...I'm supposed to be relaxing. Clearing my head. Your notions of a good time are the opposite of these things." The man in black taps a finger to his elbow on his elbow and chuckles mildly, adding then,"I think Niko's being too modest. Maybe he thinks he's protecting his long term employment options?" A smirk colors Dane's features at that.
Satana	"It's OK, honey," Satana says to Niko with a wicked grin. "Lots of people enjoy that side too." The subtle hip shake emphasizes what she's referring to. "So, you got any specific venture capitalist in mind then? Just so I don't step on your professional toes this time." Tension is ratcheting down, though there is a certain ... hunger ... in Satana's demeanour. Someone, somewhere is getting consumed tonight. "Or is it the general concept of a venture capitalist that bugs you, 'cause if that's the case, I'm right there alongside you. Those guys are assholes. Almost as bad as the tech bros!" Her predatory grin widens. "I should know. We made both of them." Dane gets another once-over with pursed lips. "Well, you know the doors always open. You've got my number." Eyes slither over to Niko and a business card appears from ... nowhere discernible in the outfit she's wearing. "Here. Next time you're off duty, party time. No unnatural death, I promise."
Nikolas Kamarov	The Russian snorts a bit at Satana's response, looking amused. He doesn't seem particularly spoiling for a fight certainly. "...what about natural death?" Niko says. But takes the card, looking at it idly. "Mmm. Most capitalists deserve it. Anyone who is a billionaire and just keeps accruing more money, for example. Is just....more than anyone needs." He shrugs, tucking the card away in his suit pocket. "Are you responsible for capitalism too?" he wonders curiously. He glances to Dane and nods. "Yes. You do not get good reputation when person you are protecting is dead while you are on duty. Very unprofessional."
Dane Whitman	A slight twitch occurs in his feaatures as he follows Satana's body language. He's not immune, after all. At the end of the day, he's still a man! That aside, Dane is clearly amused as he shakes his head in mock dismay. He shrugs again towards Satana, offering,"He's a tough customer." He notes the demeanor of the half fiend then, perhaps seeing beneath the veil of friendliness a touch as consternation colors. This is a dilemna, and he dislikes the options that it implies. Rather than linger however, he turns back to Niko and says,"Lets not get bogged down in politics, shall we? Your professionalism is intact."
Satana	"Me personally? No. Another department. I deal mostly in sex crimes. But sin is sin and I punish sinners." And that hunger in her eyes deepens. "And I do love the taste of sin." Beat. "But I'm really not interested in fighting someone who can do that." Her hand takes in the destruction wrought upon the seating. "I might break a nail." Dane and Niko then get glances each way, eyes slightly narrowed. "And I don't like the odds stacking here either," she adds. "So pax. I'll find a billionaire to educate about where money goes after you die..." She coughs. "Hint: not with them." Satana then starts stepping toward the exit, deliberately brushing against Dane and Niko in turn as she does so. "You both have my card. Summon me any time you like. For party or food."
Nikolas Kamarov	Niko's head turns to follow Satana's saunter out, raising a brow. He can certainly appreciate a proper exist, especially from this angle. "I will keep that in mind." he murmurs, his eyes twinkling slightly, before he glances at Dane. "...almost worth it, yes?" He lets out a rumbling chuckle, then nods. "Thank you for intervening. And sorry for kicking of chair." He motions to the other two bodyguards, who by now have helped up their elderly principal to support him between them. "Should get him home. Perhaps he learns to pick better with women." He shrugs, as if this isn't really a concern of his personally, before following the other guards and the official out as he follows after Satana...but sadly turning towards the doors out to the street to find their car, rather than for parties.
Dane Whitman	Dane sighs heavily and allows himself a roeful chuckle at how things turned out. He interweaves his fingers behind his head as he decides that perhaps he has overstayed his welcome. Surely this was all a sign. So with a swagger of his own, Mister Whitman follows Niko's trail out of the music hall and into the night. Likely not for parties either.