Golden Years (Drinks, Open Invite)

[Demi Fae]

There were three people that Demi knew in the city; at least she thought so. Had any of those three asked her to go out, she would have jumped at the chance. Lyonel was unlikely to ask Demi to tag along to do anything, let alone drink...could he drink? She couldn't remember. And as for Sabs, Demi knew she had plans at her sorority house tonight. "Try again in a few days." Demi said, being a good sport about her condition. Once someone gave her the run down for a few days at a time, it all came together. Sort of. Still, she wondered what she was missing that they might not know about. Did she have other friends? the only way to know was to run into them one night.

"I don't know what they have, but anything with peach in it would be darling." Demi set her purse down on the counter in front of her, as she smiled a little more. "And, thank you for inviting me." Her eyes briefly landed on Lincoln's face, before they moved away to look at the crowd of people. "We haven't...done this before, have we?" Nothing about the place seemed familiar, but it was possible that they had met here before one night after work, last month, the month before, and even the one before that and Demi would be none the wiser.

[Lincoln King]

Even as distracting as Demi could be with her often larger than life Georgia Peach personality, he couldn't help but notice the way the man who still sat with them watched the pair across the room. While he wasn't convinced on what the deal was, he could take a guess that it was something complicated enough that he had no interest in involving himself, especially since he not only didn't know them but wasn't sure he would like them all that much if he did. Lincoln grinned sideways at his colleague, signalling to the bartender who attended their table shortly after with a flirtatious smile, accepting the order for a peach inspired cocktail. His head turned to speak to Demi, watching her as she turned away, his brows furrowing. Yeah, you're welcome. Anytime." He hadn't expected gratitude, if he was being honest then he wasn't entirely sure what he had expected from her. Their meeting hadn't been the most conventional, and at first he'd been frustrated with her, the bumbling blonde interrupting his freedom. Well, it had mostly been Kingsley, not about to let them get their asses handed to them for some strange girl with claims of being kidnapped.

When he'd run into her again, interviewing for a position and with no recollection of them having met he became interested. It took a while to figure out what was going on, but when her memory loss had come to light and her other condition, well, he'd been sympathetic. Linc had given her the job to keep her close, to keep an eye on what it was this girl was about, but had come to feel sympathy for her plight and found her to be a surprisingly good worker. Even with her odd hours, he found it nice to have someone around who willing to take on the odd jobs he had around the place, who was adaptable and had shown gratitude for the opportunity. A far cry from his expectation of her as some kind of rich princess, the kind of daddy's little girl he'd spent most of his later teen and college years avoiding when his mother tried dangling them beneath his nose as a potential partner. Her uncertain remark had him laughing, gently, not at her but at the strange situation they found themselves in. "We've not been here before, no. We... Nope, never been to a club together. I try to keep things professional, though..." Lincoln shrugged, sipping at his drink. "With my job it wouldn't be out of the realm of possibility." It was true, he'd had to wine and dine clients and colleagues to get new business on the books. It was far from his favourite thing, he'd even employed others to do the dirty work for him.

"I'm glad you're here, actually, nice to see a friendly face." The admission was hurried, accompanied by a shrug that seemed to say "no big deal", settling back in his chair to glance out at the crowd.

[Doc]

Cyril blinked. His awkward and totally inappropriate comment was waved off with a casual reference about stress relief. If he had not been smitten before, he definitely was now. He did something he had not done in a very long time. Cyril smiled. A real honest to goodness smile from the depth of his being. With that simple action, he relaxed.

Glancing back at Doc, Cyril’s smile evident, he noted Doc was watching them, and looking weird. He turned back to Amalea, “What do you say, we head back. He looks left out. A grumpy Dr. Nilson, makes for a very uncomfortable evening.”

Across the dance floor, back at his table, Doc was being mostly ignored by the two others at his table. Not that it bothered Doc, he was used to having people judge him and make snap decisions without knowing him. When that happened, Doc used it to his advantage. People that made such immediate decisions, were not worth the effort involved in changing their minds. They would get a preconceived notion, and cling to it. Nothing could dissuade them from their first impression, which is precisely why Doc acted like an asshole most of the time. The people that took the time to actually get to know him.. Those were the people that he wanted to know. The people he wanted to hear views and opinions from. He may not agree with their opinions.. But he was willing to listen and be persuaded to change, if they could do it.

But at the moment, Doc’s opinion of his table companions were not in the foremost of his mind. What was, was Cyril and Amalea. He barely repressed the outright grimace of distaste that wanted to be reflected on his face. What was she thinking?! Cyril? She doesn't need to be nice to Cyril. Cyril will get ideas and start making plans, then get his soul crushed.. And Doc will have to find a new business manager.

[Demi Fae]

Demi was oblivious to the guy next to Lincoln, only because she had no idea he was part of the group. Demi assumed she was the first to show, or maybe she had been the last. What time had Lincoln said? Demi didn't remember the time, just the fact that he had invited her out and the location. When Lincoln said they'd never been here before, she nodded and took a look around. "Where is everyone?" Demi had expected to see at least one person from work to be around, but she didn't see anyone that appeared familiar to her when she looked around. But then again, would she really know? All she knew at this moment, at this day was what Lyonel looked like, what Lyonel's thrall looked like and what Lincoln looked like.

A compliment of sorts came at her from Lincoln, but was shrugged off as soon as it had been said. Demi didn't think too much of it, just assumed it was some small talk and something he would say to almost anyone he invited out, so she just sipped at the drink that had been made and given to her a few seconds ago. "You're not going to sit here and drink all night, are ya? You could do that at home by yourself. Save me a dance later?" Demi asked as Zara Larsson's 'Lush Life' came on and she hopped off her seat. Demi didn't need anyone to dance with to enjoy herself-she was used to being a solo act anyways, but Lincoln had come out and he should have fun in her eyes. She might just have to motivate him if he seemed content with sitting around and drinking all night.

[Amalea]

Amalea was a bit amazed that Cyril took her off-handed comment about Doc deserving credit well. It had just slipped out; true or not, it wasn’t the most appropriate of comments given they were only really acquaintances. Certainly, given Cyril’s crush on her, she didn’t want to be saying or doing anything that would give the man the impression that she was interested at this point. He seemed to be a fine man, but they were business associates and that could get messy if things went south.

There was no doubt in the red-head’s mind that Cyril knew vampires existed after his quiet comment on at the train station several weeks ago. It also appeared that he had no issue with it as he was still employed by Doc and very much alive. That wasn’t an indicator though, in her opinion, of his acceptance of supernatural humans. There was a clear difference in that one oftentimes did not have a choice in their change while the other specifically chose their path. Humans had an odd habit of sympathizing with those who were ‘cursed’ with something, like a rare disease, while shunning those that chose to do something that they didn’t approve of, but didn’t harm them either.

There was a large potential for a messy situation no matter how she looked at it. Really, it ended up being no different from the rest of her life; she was just adding yet another fine line to walk. She smiled, noting he had relaxed, which would certainly help Doc achieve his goal for the night. If she didn’t know better, she would have sworn Cyril could read minds given the timing of his suggestion that they join Doc at his table.

At the comment, the red-head glanced towards the table she knew held the pair of humans and Doc. It was evident that he was being ignored by the human pair. That wasn’t entirely surprising given the earlier yelling the female had done to attract attention. Had he been watching them the entire time, she wondered betting that the answer was a yes. That coupled with Cyril’s statement about Doc being grumpy certainly laid waste to her theory that this part of a plot. Her nose wrinkled slightly, “Indeed it does. And I, for one, would like to avoid that outcome.”

Heading across the dance floor and to the indicated table, Amalea had to wonder what had occurred to make the vampire grumpy. It wasn’t the humans, given he seemed to be ignoring them as much as they were him. That left either her or Cyril…or both. ****, certainly Doc didn’t think that, did he? Wondering how she kept managing to get herself in these situations, she smiled as they reached the table. “Evening, Doc.”

[Lincoln King]

The question about the whereabouts of "everyone" made Lincoln turn sheepish, rubbing a hand at the back of his neck. "Honestly? No idea. I put out a random invitation, with little to no idea who is coming or if they are coming. I figured worst case scenario i'd make a friend on the dance floor or bail early. What I should have done was made a meeting point, but I didn't want to be confined to it all night in hopes someone would show.
I've got my phone with me in case some sends a private message." He explained in a rush of words, just before Demi excused herself to head out onto the dance floor he'd previously mentioned. Of course, he would be happy to dance, he really enjoyed getting his groove on, anything that involved exerting energy was pretty ok with Linc. He'd watched her slip into the crowd, thinking that maybe he should just give up and join her, but instead he let the new arrivals distract him.

As the redhead and the guy who was apparently too high strung made their way to the table, Linc leaned over towards the man beside him, muttering, "Guessing that isn't the woman you were hoping he'd score with." It was good natured, not entirely intending to insult but aware it could have that effect. When they arrived he flashed them both a smile, gaze lingering on the woman, briefly taking in details. He was a good study of expressions and body language, his photographic memory made it easier to recall social cues that were reflected in and became familiar with many different people. In this case, he leaned back to let the others interact, sipping on his drink in silence and bringing up the forum, glancing at it in case anyone had, in fact, sent him a message. "I really should have given a description, at least..." He murmured to himself, sighing as he once more put the glass against his lips.

[Doc]

The male at the table finally deigned to acknowledge him, and did so in a snide manner. Doc flicked a glance at the male and said briefly. “No. She is a ten. Way out of Cyril’s league. But.. “ he shrugged, “if it is her choice, so be it.” He then turned his gaze back to his business manager and Amalea, as they made their way across the room to their table. He got to his feet as couple closed the distance.

She smiled as they reached the table. “Evening, Doc.”

“Good evening to you, Amalea. I see you found Cyril.” Doc’s tone was even, though he looked between Amalea and Cyril as though he wanted to ask something more, but chose not to.

In turn, Cyril had braced himself for Dr. Nilson’s ‘in your face’ attitude. But, as usual, Dr. Nilson was behaving himself in front of Amalea. Silently Cyril wondered if it was just him, that Dr Nilson liked to annoy, or was it men in general? It seemed to Cyril that whenever Amalea was present, Dr. Nilson tended to behave himself. Was it Amalea? Or was it women in general? Was the key to keeping Dr. Nilson inline, women? How very interesting.

Cyril smiled, as he thought maybe he had the key to Dr Nilson figured out. “She did indeed.” Cyril pulled out a chair for Amalea, before Dr. Nilson could. Cyril was rewarded by the brief narrowing of Doc’s eyes, as he had beat him to it; which caused Cyril to smile even more. “Can I get you something to drink? I would consider it an honor.” Cyril gave Doc a polite smile. “You were right.. I did need a night out.”

Doc retook his seat. Saying dryly, “I know you did.” Again, Doc appeared as if he wanted to add something else but again, decided not to. Turning his attention to Amalea, “I am surprised.. Pleasantly so, to see you here tonight.” He sent a look at the male, briefly, before adding “Is it a special occasion?”

[Amalea]

“More like he seems to have found me,” Amalea laughed lightly as she slid into the offered seat, not wanting Doc to think she had purposely sought out Cyril on this or any other occasion. An eyebrow rose slightly waiting to see if the unspoken question would be voiced, though there was a certainty in her mind that it would not, at least at this point in time. It would be later, away from prying eyes and ears, if at all. She would have to see how the rest of the night went before deciding if that would be a conversation to which she truly wanted to be party.

“Thank you.” The red-head addressed Cyril, remembering her manners. “Water would be most appreciated, if it’s not too much trouble.” She didn’t care if the request would be seen as odd; she needed all her facilities about her in this situation. Trust wasn’t an issue given she trusted Doc implicitly and in turn he trusted Cyril. It was the necessity of needing to walk the fine line of being polite but not flirtatious. Plus, she didn’t really want to get caught in a power struggle between the two men, though she suspected that wouldn’t be an issue tonight.

Amalea stifled a snort at Cyril’s comment about a night out. It was certainly an interesting way to phrase what he had told her earlier. She also suspected Doc had phrased it the way Cyril first blurted it out. Eyes glanced between the two men as she tried to assess what was going on besides what was already obvious to her. There was a quiet hope that she wasn’t about to become a rope in some sort of crazy game of tug-of-war. Given her life lately, she wouldn’t be surprised if it occurred, though.

The red-head smiled at Doc, “Likewise. I hadn’t expected seeing anyone I knew here… much less the pair of you. “ She shook her head slightly, “No special occasion. I was just planning on attending a gathering of….” Thinking better of what she was about to say given it was more suitable to a place like Voodoo than an open club, she paused a half second to self-edit, “…people on a forum of which I’m a member. I’d been looking for them with no success when Cyril found me.”

[Demi Fae]

Demi could dance for hours; any type of music. Once she found the beat and got into her groove, Demi practically shut the world out. It was two songs later that her attention was drawn to Lincoln, noticing him talking to people she didn't know. Were they the people he was waiting for? Only one way to find out.

Demi danced around bodies of other dancers, weaved around fixtures and then finally made her way to the group and her drink. Oddly enough, she trusted him to more or less watch her drink while Demi danced her heart out. She took a seat and waited before extending a wave to the two men and the woman. "Hi! I'm Demi."

[Lincoln King]

He did indeed watch her drink, keeping it within arm's reach and eyesight at all times. Not that he focused heavily on it, nor was he overly worried that, thanks to her heartier constitution than most, she'd suffer any long-lasting ill effects if someone decided to tamper with it. Regardless, it was a natural courtesy extended by those who'd been out in groups before. If someone left a bag or drink someone at the table was obligated to mind it until they returned. He'd also kept a vague eye on where she was in the room, watching her for brief moments to ensure she was enjoying herself and not needing saving. Too many times he'd had to slide between awkward situations, steering a handsy Romeo from a reluctant Juliet, not ready to die for love. It had resulted in a couple of fights over the years, fists and all. Not that he was the fighting type, but the other personality that dwelled inside his mind didn't back down from them and while at heart they were about self-preservation didn't like seeing others get trodden on.

When the redhead women began to speak he hadn't realised he'd been listening, not actively at least, it was background noise to his thoughts and only became clear when she mentioned a forum. Could she possibly be one of his strays? He turned his attention on her, waiting for a lull in conversation to interrupt with his question. He framed it both confidently and yet with an air of lingering shyness, one that he hoped might come as endearing enough that were he mistaken he'd be forgiven. "Apologies, did you say forum? I was waiting on people for the same reason," He stood to his full 6'4", leaning across the table to present a hand and warm smile. No harm introducing himself either way, "I'm Lincoln, Lincoln King... Or, TheMonarch." There was an edge of hopefulness to his tone at the last, as if to say "please be who I think you are, don't leave me hanging". It was then that Demi returned, having seen interactions or perhaps it was his standing from his seat that beckoned her. He shot her a sideways grin, one that only lifted entirely on one side giving it a lopsided, boyish quality.