Lyla looks back down on herself with a shrug. Apparently a sports bra which was basically a short padded top was too much for people these days. Just living in Vegas things on what was normal, she guesses.

"Hmph. Yeah. Sorry, my minds in the job. I keep forgetting what people pay attention to when I think they don't see..." She chuckles and takes off the shirt. "Even twenty minutes would help. "

She looks at the KBAR with a tilted head.

"Prized possession but still you have it? I see. That'll work very well though. Though there is the danger of either ending up using it, or it ending up being confiscated and we have to return to find it later."

"Well, I *stole* it."  She takes the wet shirt, "And if its gets totaled then sure, I'll take responsibility, OK?  But I looked at his other knives and this one looks the most legit.  I mean half of those would probably break if you used them."

She starts heading outside,

"Throwing it in the dryer, be right back."

When she comes back she sighs, "So, 20 minutes, right?"

"So...He already knows its gone? Or he has so many he doesn't even realize? Don't worry, I won't bust you out to him. Weapons that sit in a glass cabinet serve no real purpose if you ask me. Sure mementos are important, but there is a limit to what those should be," she twirls the knife in her hands.

"Yeah, twenty mins. Thanks again. Appreciate this."

She thoughtfully looks out of the window.

"He doesn't know yet, so, keep that between us, eh?  I think in the end if we return it undamaged and he finds out you used it to beat up some baddies he won't care."

The knife feels right in her hand.  Like she's held it a hundred years ago and it's finally fit back into her palm where it belongs.

"Hey, no worries."

The 20 minutes pass and her shirt comes back slightly damp but at least not distracting.  Kumiho spends that 20 minutes getting ready herself- a little black dress with some slashes down the side in artfully chosen places.

"And if you don't want me along I'll go to a better club.  Somewhere."

"He'll not hear a word of it from me."

Lyla shortly raises her brows at the knife, and holsters it on her belt. Odd, but nice. There is a passing thought how she'd be rather keen on holding on to it...but she possibly couldn't do that to Kumiho.

Content with her only slightly damp shirt, Lyla pulls it on and looks through her PDA while Kumiho readies herself.

"Oh, so THATS why you don't want me to stand out," she jests. "Hey, I'm not one to dump a fellow fox. If you want to have a fun and stressfree time at a club with actually partying then you are free to choose a better place, like Callsign. But it might look more normal with me having company..even though I have to admit I'm concerned of you getting hurt in this process"
This message was last edited by the player at 18:27, Tue 29 Jan 2019.

"Oh, you're worried about me getting hurt, I'm so touched."  She laughs once, throaty and dirty.  "I'll cover your back.  As you said, I'm not going to leave a fellow fox behind.  How is the Callsign, by the by?  I've heard rumors..." 

She finishes with a pair of slightly scuffed high heels, no doubt relics from the exodus.

"Alright, I'm ready.  So what's the club name we're headed to?"

"She said earlier having admitted that she only had little combat experience,"Lyla reminds Kumiho."Of course I worry. Thats why I usually operate alone. I dont want other people on my conscience. BUT Im awfully curious to see you dish it out without your fighter."

She ruffles her hair and locks on the coordinates.

"The Lifelink. Perfect for anything shady to take place."
This message was last edited by the player at 13:57, Wed 30 Jan 2019.

"Hey, don't deny me a chance at some empty bravado."  She says, offering her arm to Lyla, "OK, yeah, I've never really done much in a straight fight but maybe at least I can be a distraction."

She brushes her hair over her ear and looks at Lyla with a little surprise, "The Lifelink.  I didn't think an Exalt even knew that place existed."

The Lifelink is famed amongst the lower-levels as one of THOSE places.  Good young boys and girls didn't go there, no sir; not if they wished to stay obedient and good.  It's a hub of shady activities, the drug and sex trade, and worst of all is a haven for- ugh- up and coming bands.  No doubt their ears will be bleeding from the very worst the 17 year olds of the Underdecks have to offer.

Also there was a stabbing there a week ago.  And one of her Ombra agencies broke up a sex slave operation that targeted underage teenagers.

"I guess I'll keep an eye out on you to make sure you don't get roofied."

Lyla chuckles in response to Kumihos comments, and shakes her head a bit.

"Hey, with you being there with me it actually looks like I'm going there for some fun and not work. Me alone would be just shady," she notes. "Normally Exalts probably wouldnt know but I kinda make it my business to know about places like that."

She takes her arm:"Yeah, sounds good. Without you looking over my shoulder I'd be completely lost and abused."

Another teasing chuckle later she pats her hand:"Though seriously, Im happy to have help. Levels the playfield."

The Lifelink is even dingier than Lyla remembers.  Three stories of cramped corridors, booming bass, the rampant stench of weed and even worse bootleg cigarettes, and the sour smell of spilled, fruit-laced alcohol.  Kumiho's nose scrunches up almost immediately- now the Lunar is much more sensitive to these sorts of smells, after all. There's a single pair of bathrooms on the bottom floor, both things you DON'T want to go into.  And there's a bar, right near the entrance.

Second floor's the band floor slash mosh pit, with the third floor constituting seats, side rooms, and other needs.  A huge hole has been cut out of the second floor's ceiling, giving the people on the third floor an easy way to listen to the band.  This may or may not be a curse.

Strangely, Lyla is quick to recognize someone the moment she steps in.  An Ombra agent is already there, callsign Cuttlefish, a water-elemental who mostly works for Ombra to feed her alcoholism.  Cuttlefish doesn't know she's there, but Lyla would recognize the flowing, watery form with her bright mohawk of green frill anywhere.

 The place sure is a mess, even bigger of a mess than Lyla considered herself to be before the shower. Ah the things they end up doing for Humanitys sake. She slightly slouches to fit in, her straight perhaps a bit over arched posture standing out otherwise too much. A black hoodie would be handy, so she looks around seeing if Someone left theirs unattended before nicking it.

"Dont you just love it?" she notes to Kumiho with an extremely dry note in her voice.

She stops by the bar to order; a shot of anything clear and something to carry along, the latter being just for show.

Huh.  There IS one.  It's covered with a bit of spilled beer but what isn't in this shithole?

"Yes, it's just... endlessly entertaining," She keeps herself attached to Lyla's arm, "The dance floor upstairs is usually nicer, though..."

The drinks are Dishwater (an unknowable and mostly-clear concoction that's so alcoholic it's germ-free, and that HAS to be good for you, right?) and a big can of GOTTERDAMMERUNG Beer, the Beer of the Twilight of the Gods, brewed by the Gods of Forgotten Valor somewhere near the engines!  It tastes extremely passable by the Last Refuge standards.  In the old world, it would've sold for a buck at a run-down 7-11.

Kumiho waits until the Dishwater shot is passed to Lyla and then orders one of her own, immediately regretting it.

"BLEGH.  The things we do to get drunk."

Ah lovely, spilled beer had always been her favourite type of parfume, only left second to clear alcohol. She smirks to herself and tugs the hoodies hood on, resting her other hand in a pocket.

"Yeah, we can head upstairs after this," her eyes glance to Cuttlefish's direction, seeing what she is up to.

The dishwater does what its supposed and leaves her tastebuds ruined for a while. Lyla is at this point rather convinced that she'll take up on Sayeeds offer when this all is over.

"Well at least you already knew to not expect much from that...so cant ruin expectations when there are none?" she winks before dunking her shot down.

Cuttlefish seems to be entirely focused on her drink and minding her own business.  Normally the water elemental is pretty gregarious and energetic on the job.  Either she's off-shift or trying to keep a low profile.  This definitely has more of a 'drinking alone' look to it.

"There's a difference between expectation and hope!"  She answers.

Oh man.  Dishwater tastes even worse than she remembers.  Buuut it does have a hell of a kick.

"Upstairs?"  She asks hopefully, "Let's dance a lot and throw things at whatever shitty band is playing below us."

Cuttlefish orders another drink.  Her blue-green body shimmers and turns paler from the effects of the last.

She should have a list of all her agents on missions. Now where was it. Lyla looks at her phone to find the encrypted and coded file. There was no reason for her to bother Cuttlefish if she was off duty. Who'd want to meet their boss while trying to relax.

"Yeah. Upstairs. In a mo. There are some nice corners there for the meeting," Lyla looks at her beer but doesn't even sip from it.

Cuttlefish is on Extended Duty.  In other words, she's to 'use discretion' and clock in whenever she wants if she feels she has a lead.  Thankfully Lyla has access to the punch clock.

Hmm, yep.  Cuttlefish clocked in exactly an hour ago.


"What's wrong?  Smell too bad?"  Her companion asks, "I could get you some more Dishwater... we could just pour it into the beer."

"Are you trying to get me drunk?" She chuckles to Kumiho, her focus on Cuttlefish mostly. "I think we might get some company to this dull evening, but let's see about that. Come on, lets head up."

Unsure of what kind of lead Cuttlefish might be after, she texts her:"When you've got time, come upstairs. I've got eyes on you. Let's see if we have our eyes on the same price - your BF-" Before heading upstairs with Kumiho, since she so much was dying to get there.

"Maybe a little?"  Kumiho laughs, a hand on Lyla's arm, "Oh, company, huh?  I'm dull company for a dull evening?"  She winks at her partner, "I know just the place...."

"Just the place" is a third floor booth.  Kumiho's chosen well.  It gives them a good look at the dance floor, makes them visible, and also is carefully placed so that nobody can sneak around towards them.

"OK" is the only response Lyla gets.  Cuttlefish isn't big on texting.

"A little is fine, makes this place be less of an eye and ear sore," she smirks. "Yes, utterly dull, and boring. Not really though. I just thought this would be a great opportunity for you to meet other more interesting people, than...lets say me."

She settles in, leaning whatever railing is nearby and looks around. It had been a while since she had actually visited any club such as this. It had been even longer awhile since she had visited a club such as this AND tried to have fun and dance.

"You've gotta be kidding me,"  She says as they look down on the dance floor from above.  The band has changed, now it's some sort of techno-beat that's.... actually not too bad, if not to everyone's liking.  It's sure as hell a different sound from the weird screamo-industrial that had just been playing, but at least you could call this music.

"Anyway you gotta stop selling yourself short, girl.  Do you have any idea what I would've done to just have a beer with you before all that shit went down?  I'd straight-up have shanked someone for the chance to talk to you on the phone."

Cuttlefish has apparently gotten up.  The Ombra agent has found her way onto the dance floor, looking around shiftily for her boss.  Ah, right... more than one floor, and Cuttlefish wasn't told which one.

But Lyla knows a skulking look when she sees it.  This is not the look of someone going to talk to their boss.  She can see fear in every step.

((Awareness: 10, 9, 9, 9, 8, 5, 3 & 2.
39 + 20 + 10 = 69 ))

"Just filter it all through sarcasm and relax," Lyla chuckles. "Hey, so now that we are talking face to face, it'll probably lead to someone being torn to pieces, since shanking was in a level of a phone call," She jests.

She slightly taps her fingers and foot to the tempo of the music. At least somewhat. Glad to have some proper music. When Cuttlefish emerges, Lyla takes a step back, shading herself just to see why she is so cautious. Was someone after her? Was there something she didn't spot?
This message was last edited by the player at 22:16, Tue 30 Apr 2019.

"Oh, to get you in my shower?  Now that, I would've airlocked someone for," She jokes right back at her- or is it a joke?  "OK OK OK.  I'm still just a bit awestruck I'll admit.  This is all hard for me to get a handle of."

Cuttlefish keeps skulking around the dance floor, looking for presumably her.  And there- Lyla is so well trained, her eyes so sharp.  She can't help but notice the sleek, powerful pistol Cuttlefish has strapped to her left hip, not the normal kind of gun for this work, oh no, this is an assassin's weapon.

Lyla shakes her head with an amused smile on it.

"Its fine. But please if you airlock someone, note me so I can witness it," she smirks her eyes following Cuttlefish. "Pfeh, it'd seem my friend has entered the dance floor, but is more up for a dance battle than a shared tango."

She sighs, eyeing the situation for a moment longer and sipping her beer:"I might need to go exchange a few words."

This message was last edited by the player at 16:47, Thu 02 May 2019.

"I'll take video or invite you to the Defenestration Party,"  She shoots back.  "... Alright.  Want me to stay up here or come with you?"

Cuttlefish continues to stalk the floor.  Someone bumps into her and she jumps a little before going back on the prowl.

"I'd hate to lose you in this crowd, so how about you go party and see how my dance goes with my distant friend, and join the fun or help people if things get too wild, hm?" She suggests inclining slightly towards the skulking Cuttlefish.

It would be no problem for her to sneak up to Cuttlefish and surprise her. Unless there was someone else following her progress on the matter. The long awaited third party might arrive any minute. Or be there already.

The crowd would cause some difficulties for efficient moves, but she could work around it, take advantage of it, and blend in, if things turned too dire. The only problem was that fake Endings was not afraid of injuring civilians in the process. But that was also something that'd set them apart from the rest of the party goers. They wouldn't get skittish easily.

With these thoughts in mind, Lyla sets towards the dance floor.