Nerves

[Blue]

Conall stood at the doors to the conference room. It was the first night of the month. First meeting where Conall was the lycan oligarch. He felt a bit nervous. The fact that he really hadn’t seen anyone here as well made him wonder if his calendar was off. Of course that couldn’t be. He always kept special track of days. If he didn’t, it would be guess-work when full moons were. In fact, Conall was making quite a risk being here for the meeting. The full moon was only a few days away. While Conall wouldn’t transform, his actions and decisions were becoming a bit more rash that normal. He reminded himself to keep in check. Pulling at the sleeves of his black jacket, he made sure his black suit and red dress shirt was in place before going to enter.

Heaving a deep breath, Conall opened the door to the meeting chamber. He peeked in before stepping through the entrance. The room seemed rather empty but Conall didn’t let his guard down. He knew the Oligarchy was full of other beings, including vampires. The lycan wasn’t about to appear soft at first impression. Feeling the nervousness, Conall reached into his jacket’s pocket. He pulled out his lighter and a pack of cigarettes. Wrangling a cigarette free, he placed it in his mouth. Once the cigarette was lit, Conall took a couple more steps in the room. His brown eyes surveyed it.

“Not really into decorating, huh?” He said to himself, before looking at the round table. Breathing in smoke, he glanced towards the door that clicked close. Conall wondered why he was the only one here. Maybe he was really early. The lycan took a deep breath of tobacco smoke in. He was attempting to calm his nerves. He went over in his head what he was going to say tonight. That he would like to go over some of the lycan rules and maybe change a few things. He wanted to add on some rules as well. Rules about mating. Conall didn’t like the fact that one of the new members in his pack was mating with a human. He didn’t like it at all. If he could make a rule about it that prohibited inter-species mating, Conall would. Thinking about Roven made Conall’s nerves drop a bit.

Conall stood beside a chair, waiting for someone else to arrive before sitting. He wasn’t sure what he was suppose to do. As he looked around the room, his thoughts about Roven went away and his nerves reappeared. “Perhaps I’m in the wrong room.” He muttered to himself.

[Trillian]

"Wrong room?" came an amused voice from the opposite corner of the room, where a piece of the wall had slid open very much like an elevator and Halen - the Luminary - entered, the wall-door sliding shut behind him, leaving no hint that it was even there. "Does it not look like a conference room?" he asked, amused.
 
Halen approached his chair, the one with the tallest back, and revolved it so that he could sit down and spin his legs under the surface of the table.
 
There was obviously nothing wrong with Halen\'s hearing if he\'d picked up the low volume of which Conall had spoken.
 
"Welcome to the Oligarchy, Conall. Please, take a seat while we wait for the others," he gestured all around the table, as though the lycan could choose whatever one he wanted - as though there weren\'t fixed seating positions.
 
Halen\'s amber eyes sparkled as he laced his fingers together and set his elbows on the surface of the table.

[Blue]

Conall gave a small twitch of shock when he heard the voice. His eyes snapped over to look at Halen. He quickly covered his surprise by taking a deep breath of his cigarette. At the question he was asked, Conall shrugged, "Well, yeah..." He answered lightly. Despite the now known fact that he was in the right room, Conall still felt a bit apprehensive. He hoped he\'d get use to this sort of setting.
 
Watching Halen as the other sat down, Conall continued smoking. He leaned his weight on one of his legs. The lycan nodded when Halen gestured to the table.
 
"Right." He said as a filler for lack of better words. Reaching out to the nearest chair, he sat down. Conall recognized Halen from when he was first confirmed the position of Oligarch. Yet he wasn\'t sure what to think of the Luminary... except to just accept any orders from the man. From what Conall had read in the paperwork, the Luminary was just like an Alpha... only more direct with power. After a short moment of silence, Conall spoke up.
 
"Do you mind if I smoke?" Conall asked. He figured he should have asked earlier. The lycan felt a bit uncomfortable. He was keeping both his feet on the ground and his back straight. Usually, he would have brought one of his legs up to rest that foot on the edge of the chair. Yet, he decided that would appear to casual for the Oligarchy. Tapping his cigarette so that the ash fell into the palm of his hand, he held the ash unsure of what to do with it. He glanced towards the door before asking another question, "Am I early?"

[Uzaki]

Perhaps it had been too much, Tarantula decided as he caught his own reflection in a dark window and halted to take a closer look, even with his lack of taste it looked laughable. The shirt looked too happy, a bright pink with yellow sunflowers trailing across in a random pattern. A soft golden glint from some glittery dust on their leaves as light was caught, the rest of the shirt shimmering softly as silk usually did, and reflected.

He’d thought it pretty, so naturally he wore it now when he wanted to feel pretty but it also managed to take away some of that evil edge he liked about himself. No matter how dark his glare was it seemed softened by the soft shirt. At least it felt nice. He shrugged seeing there was no time to change and doing so would only admit that he had chosen badly this time.

And the latter he wouldn’t ever do.

Looking away he continued the short walk to the room were the meeting would be held, pausing at the door to collect himself and maintain the most expressionless look he could muster. With a short annoyed snort he opened the door, refraining himself from barging in and catching the last part of a question and even only actually hearing the last word could guess what had been asked.

He closed the door and placed himself behind the chair closest to the door. Eyes flickering over the two occupants of the room.

“Yes, earlier then the others it would seem” a knowing smirk, before nodding to the head of all of this and then the boy “but someone must be first I suppose” offered to take away some of the taunting edge from his previous sentence. Not all found it as amusing as he did.

Not waiting for an invitation he sat down on the chair, leaning back and sent a short glance towards Halen but didn’t say anything else. There was not much to say, he wasn’t one for chit chat if there was no gain or purpose, so he settled back and closed his eyes in wait for the rest to arrive and kept breathing to a minimum since he didn’t need it and he might sneeze from the tingling of smoke in the air.

[Noctambule]

Mael had given himself a mental pep talk on acting more adult for the Oligarchy. He told himself that he should conduct himself in a manner fitting to any position of standing but grimaced at the fact that it just wasn\'t going to happen. Not only was he perpetually childish but he doubted it was in him to stand up and give stirring, impassioned speeches bound to make everyone see things in the same correct light.

But then again, the world would hardly be fun if everyone had that gift. People would be giving speeches everywhere and then who knew what they could make you do? Civil rights and so forth were great but if someone had the power to influence everything you did?

The auburn-haired Fae mused on that as he wandered toward the conference room. He walked lightly, almost carefully, on the balls of his feet. Walking on tiptoes was a weird habit of his but he could never remember to quit doing in.

Entering into the searched-for room at last, red eyes roamed over the company. Halen, who he remembered, and two others he knew were Oligarchs but couldn\'t quite place to names.

"Evening," He murmured, nose twitching at the scent of the cigarette. It wasn\'t bothersome to him, more one of those fascinating things that he didn\'t exactly like but was never the less,intrigued by.

Giving a nod to each of the males in the room, he went to a chair well down the table and sat, quickly enough trying to become the wallpaper simply so he could observe what everyone else was up to. He learned so much more by watching others instead of trying to be lost in his own little world.

[Malkavian Riddler]

Gin entered the room as discreetly as possible, which wasn\'t discreet at all considered the brightness of the room and the fact that there were only a few of the Oligarchy members assembled.  Instead of looking directly at anyone or heading for the table, the Nosferatu vampire made along the wall instead.

Standing against the wall, the vampire who had the title of informant looked extremely uncomfortable and feeling very obvious.  Gin cast his eyes downward slightly, staring at the round table but his peripheral vision took in every movement made, no matter how tiny.

He said nothing, looked at nobody, and there was an everpresent dark scowl on his less-than-appealing face.

[Trillian]

Halen waited for a long moment before speaking, to see if there would be any further entrances that would interrupt him.  Not every member made the meetings, but that was alright for the discussion of business would be slow if every voice was heard each time.  If he needed to catch up with one of the Oligarchs, he knew where and how to find them.
 
"Conall here is a replacement for Raul, who decided to tuck tail some time ago," Halen\'s hand went out to gesture palm up in the werewolf\'s direction, speaking of the Oligarchy member who\'d left the city without warning and not come back.  Perhaps he\'d shunned the responsibility, perhaps something had happened to him, either way, he\'d vanished without trace and had badly needed replacement.  "I would also like to welcome back Tarantula, our Primary Oligarch for Vampires who has been away on a business trip until recently.  I trust all went well?" he asked Tarantula briefly, waiting only for a short response.  Once that was given, he continued with his introductions.
 
"Our Oligarch for Fae is Mael," he gave a nod to the auburn haired half-breed before moving on to look at Gin for a moment before explaining his presence; "And this is Gin, our informant.  Excuse the delay in mentioning him, for I don\'t usually see him until he has something to report."
 
Halen figured seeing him meant there was likely something to report at this meeting.

[Blue]

Conall continued to smoke as he got no answer from Halen. He watched as others began to arrive. The lycan was glad that he wasn\'t the only one that had shown up. This relief was mixed with suspicion. His gaze surveyed the newcomers. He didn\'t know what the one guy was trying to prove with that bright pink shirt, but Conall didn\'t trust him. Then again, as Conall looked at the Oligarchy, he realized he wouldn\'t trust any of them yet.


Shifting in his seat, he straightened his back. Conall began to gnaw lightly on his cigarette. His sharp teeth pierced the paper and the contents leaked out. The broken cigarette which was still burning away as Conall set it on his palm. He folded over his fingers, smothering the cigarette. The warmth in his fingers brought the lycan\'s nerves away for a moment. Feeling the tobacco squish underneath his fist, smoke rose up around his fingers. Conall glanced around before simply discarding the ashes and broken cigarette into his pant\'s pocket. Many a times, Conall had put a burnt out cigarette into his pocket to avoid getting someone\'s place dirty. Conall did have that level of respect towards other.
 
Listening to Halen began to speak, Conall patted his hand on his pants to make sure all the ash was off his palm before looking up. He avoided gazing at Halen but had no problem looking straight at the other Oligarchs. Definitely mixed company, Conall thought to himself as he glanced from Gin to Mael to the flowered-shirt Tarantula. His nose twitched for a moment. Past the smell of fresh smoke there was the scents of the other beings. The room mixed with old smells as well, making it quite hard for Conall to place which scent was for which person.
 
Conall reached out and folded his hands on the table. An awkward feeling gesture for him, but he supposed it was more polite than any of his comfortable positions. He nodded to the others when his name was brought up. At the corner of his chapped lips twitched a smile which his nerves wanted to give, but his cautious nature around other species repressed such an action.
 
As the other Oligarchs who had arrived were introduced, Conall\'s gaze went to Tarantula. His muscles tensed and he gritted his teeth, as he eyed the proclaimed vampire Oligarch. The lycan was holding back an instinctive growl. While he knew the stench of vampire was in the room beforehand, he hadn\'t known who to place it on or if it was an old odor. Conall reminded himself mentally that he would have to cooperate with the vampires in the Oligarch. Perhaps if he could get over the fact that the men were vampires, he would be able to evaluate them as people.
 
Conall realized that he had been staring at Tarantula for most of the introductions now. He turned his vision away, his face heating with embarrassment at having stared. Some of the red coloring in his cheeks was also caused by the angry grudge against the vampire. The grudge that Conall held would be difficult for him to let entirely go. He wouldn\'t fight or lose his position as Oligarch over such a personal detail though. Trying to find somewhere else to divert his gaze, Conall finally found a nice space of wall behind Halen.
 
Unsure of what to do, Conall remained quiet. He figured that the informant should be talking from the end of Halen\'s introductions. The tip of Conall\'s fingers began to tap lightly against the table. He wished he hadn\'t crushed his cigarette, he really wanted another one now.

[Malkavian Riddler]

"There is always something to report," Gin replied softly, but his voice was still loud enough for every member to hear his words, and the way he slurred them due to excessive drool.  The Nosferatu vampire was unpleasant in many ways, though his obvious submission to authority would hopefully please the members of the Oligarchy.  What was a circle of leaders without followers, after all?  "I will present on request," he added, letting Halen know that should the question be asked of him to make his report, he would.  Gin believed it would be in his favour to let the rest of them have their discussions before he gave them something new to talk about.

[Umbra-Conceal]

Umbra stood outside the door to the room. he\'d been gone from the city for a time-mostly due to some unexplanable sistuation he had no way of explaining. How does one explaine coming into season and entering what some would call \'Rut.\'
 
Still he squared his shoulders and centerd himself for whatever possable outcome there would be for his unasked for.. vacation. The Church ran itself for the most part and while his search had been put on pause for a moment he\'d go right back to it in no time.Right now he had someone he had to face.
 
Cool royal purple eyes blanked out all emotins for his face until only the empty mild smile was left.Itwas the mask he used to deal with others, made it easier to be dissmissed as human to the unwerry.Lifting his hand he gave a slight rap with a kunckle before pushing the door open.
 
Umbra enterd and gave a slight wide eyed look inside as if surprised to see the new face amound the members before shifting his eyes to Halen, giving only a faint nod of his head before moving inward,closeing the door behind him.
 
He loved to see the looks of the faces of people know did not know him, or atlest know of him. What passed through their minds to see a simingly young looking man dressed as a priest, with not only long black hair but royal purple eyes framed by the small specks sitting on his nose? he moved along the wall not joining at the table but instead stood politely off to the side, his hands linked and held behind his back.

[Uzaki]

Taranatula had sat still as more came, pondering over his shirt and the problem of it being pretty but not on him, until the meeting started. Then he crossed his arms, watching their head of affairs and gave a small nod when the question was thrown his way. It had gone well, for him at least.

Hearing the name of their informant he threw Gin a quick glance, mentally snorting, before letting his gaze continue to the werewolf and catching him as he looked away. Feeling highly amused by the colouring of his face and stared at the profile of the boy a little longer then necessary.

Silly brat.

He refocused on Halen, deciding to ignore the others unless something was spoken directly to or about him or his ways, offering him his undivided attention.

[Trillian]

Halen mulled over whether to continue with business until they were exhausted discussing what was on their minds, especially Conall, seeing as he was new, or getting the reports out of the way first.
 
He was interrupted by a blinking light in a panel set beneath the table\'s surface, where he could see it from his chair.  Frowning, he lifted a small handset to his ear and spoke into it, eyeing the rest of the Oligarchs at their positions around the table.
 
"This better be good," he said gruffly before listening with an intense concentration.  "Send him in," he said, as though unsure what to expect but wanting to throw fuel on the fire.

[Existentially Odd]

The demon guard entered the conference room quite a time before Kerr did, for he had stopped to help Tag find a place to put his belongings.  He didn\'t think it would be a good idea to bring the lovely young man - all dressed up and ready for adopting, as it were - before the Luminary with all his worldly possesions strapped to him.  It seemed undignified, somehow, and that was the last thing he wanted to do to the youth.

He also didn\'t want to go back into this room and very suddenly didn\'t even want to see Halen any more, so any delay was a good one.  He was over his egotistical desire to summon someone who\'d destroyed him in ways he was still counting; it\'d been a momentary lapse of reason and certainly a mistake.  Why had he said something so stupid?  The guard could have told him that Tag was a shifter - he hadn\'t missed the description during the phone call - so he should have just asked for the Shifter Oligarch and been done with it... but, no.  He had to go and try to scratch a little nick on that golden exterior, attempt to ruffle a few feathers, and swing the weight of his democratic right to demand an audience - with the council that ruled his kind - around the place... and this was where it got him.

Right back in the second last place he ever wanted to set foot again (the last place being that hideous whipping/torture chamber), and with the boy he was trying to help, along for the ride.  Suddenly, he couldn\'t see what help this would be... or even why the stupid fucking head of the oligarch was always hanging out in such a huge, imposing room.  Why here?  Did he not have a home to go to?  Tag wouldn\'t like it and he knew for a fact that it carried enough bad memories that he\'d never forget it... why revisit a nightmare?  Squaring his shoulders, he took hold of Tag\'s hand and led him into the room, gaze automatically going to the distant end (head) of the table.

What he saw on the way to that point caused him to falter, his gait becoming far less determined and a lot more unsteady as he looked from foreign faces to odd faces to hated one.  Around the middle of the space out the front (roughly where he\'d stood just three nights beforehand) he came to an awkward stop, his grip on his companion firm.  He faced the Luminary directly, unaware of the tumbling array of emotions crossing his face; horror, awe, nervousness, disgust, suspicion.  All there to see because he was so totally unprepared for this, that he had no ability to steel himself.  The benefit to such a genuine reaction was that he was so wrapped up in it, he didn\'t have time to worry about his presentation, or his poise.  He just... was.

"What... the... fuck is going on here?" he breathed, a sneer of loathing and distrust finally curling his lip as he glared hatefully at Halen.  The crass sentence was directed at \'the\' man but his gaze flicked back and forth between him and the others present.  They were all looking at him as if they had been cudgelled into submission and he was to be the entertainment that made the haranguing they\'d endured worthwhile.  He could only suppose they were \'The Oligarchy\', but he was fucked if he was going to be the monkey that danced for their sorry asses.

[Trillian]

Such an entrance followed by such a question caused Halen\'s eyebrow to lift with inquiry.
 
What the fuck?  That was his question?  An astounding emotional display crossing Kerr\'s face with a question bordering on obscene Halen considered it so very... stupid.
 
"This is a meeting room," Halen\'s voice travelled easily around the high-ceilinged conference room.  "We\'re having a meeting.  Why are you here, exactly?" he asked, his golden eyes finding the creature beside their uninvited guest, hand-holding with the vampire and looking around with open-eyed wonder.
 
Tag shrunk away from that voice, that timbre, and growled deep in his throat, softly and menacingly, clinging to Kerr\'s arm like a drowning man to a buoy.

[Existentially Odd]

Kerr\'s mouth pursed, his nostrils flaring as hatred and disgust rose within him at hearing the man speak again.  He\'d hated one being in his life up \'til this point... but he could certainly see himself labelling his emotions for the inhumane creature at the other end of the table in the same way.  He could hate him; he probably already did.  Despite his austerity and his poised elegance, he was the foullest of beings, driven by the letter of the law and unable to yield a fucking thing that might blur or broach his precious line.

"We\'ll leave then, I didn\'t mean to interrupt," he stated through gritted teeth, throwing the door - where the guard that had led them in here had immediately disappeared back through - a foul look.  The demon could have at least warned him of the sticky situation they\'d be entering into.  He gathered Tag closer, preparing to make an indignant exit.