Go On, Do Tell (Ethereal)

A flash of flames streaked through the evening sky, followed by an Earth-shattering quake, as the object struck the ground. After a few seconds, the domed roof of the object opened up and retracted into the ground, creating shapes of an intricate geometric pattern. White opaque mist curled forth from the opening, and a lone figure walked out, descending down the stairs. He appeared humanoid in shape, with a futuristic suit adorning his body, made of a shiny black surface that seemed to be of an unfathomable depth. As the figure’s foot struck the Earth, purple lightning shot down from the heavens, travelling through the figure’s outstretched hand. It raised its arm, and then the other, the lightning being redirected into the sky, still arching down into the other hand. A hazy red circle came into focus around the figure and touching the ground, slowly coming into focus. The background faded to black, figure and ship disappearing, leaving only the purple “V” and the red circle. This signal was then shown emblazoned on a sleek new laptop, followed by the words “Velon Peregrine” and several of the computer’s stats.

The ad ended, and Vegail sent out a quick text to his head of marketing who had just sent it to him, approving it. While it might be a little overkill for a computer, people these days had terrible attention spans, and were constantly changing the channel, so overkill is usually good. He waited for the bartender to come back around and ordered a bottle of champagne, handing the bartender his money as he did so; even though he frequented this place often, he did not like tabs, so always paid per drink. Pouring the first glass of the night, he toasted himself on another weeks good work.

Most teenagers are frowned upon for being in a club, even one as classy as this, so as such Vegail was now under the alias of Mark Sheppard, a high executive in the Weapons department of Velon Industries. The club was rather busy tonight, not crowded but by no means desolate either. Vegail asked for a cigar, and lit it when one was delivered, surveying the crowd arriving as nighttime fell.

Ryan had found himself in what one would call a classier club within Chicago, head bobbing slightly to the music as his twin Aaron hovered only a few steps behind him. It would take only a glance to tell that the two were identical, and only clothing separated them, as well as expressions. Aaron was what one would call constantly serious, eyes narrowed and not really any emotion playing along his features other than something that showed keen intellect. Ryan however was the opposite, a small dopey smile always playing on his expression as he walked along, dressed in simple faded blue jeans and button up plaid shirt. A silver necklace dangled around his neck, a present from a certain someone’s future significant other, granted he was unsure how he would be able to return to his own timeline; so for now he would roll with the punches that came his way.

How the two young looking males managed to slip through security was easy enough, as it only took an expertly crafted fake id, one created by Arianna Hale herself while the two were stuck within the past. Of course they would not stick together, both having very different interests as far as it came to spending time within clubs like this. Aaron simply enjoyed the atmosphere and Ryan liked the….eye candy as he sometimes put it, even though he was in some manner of relationship; one that was separated by time as well as space. Considering the separation that was offered by both time and space, then he would have to make do until could be bridged, because he was a horrible person. Aaron would branch off to do whatever it was that he did and left Ryan to his own devices, which was not quite the best thing that one could do.

So the blond male ended up wandering around until he ended up plopping down at one of the fancy looking bars, huffing to himself as he rested elbows on it. Sitting next to him was what one would call a rather handsome guy, though a bit older than Ryan’s usually prey; not that he was one to be picky. The blond clicked his tongue twice, cocking an eyebrow as he looked to the male. ”So, come here often?” he asked with the thick irish accent.

A young male (though he was most likely older than Vegail himself, he would appear younger than Mark Sheppard) approached the bar and sat down. He seemed to be attempting to make small talk, as strangers in situations as this often did. Vegail tilted his head backwards slightly, taking in the newcomer, a blond Irishman, judging from the accent.

“One might say that,” he replied to the question. “And as I’ve never seen you in here before, I assume you don’t.” The bartender chuckled as she walked by. “Mark is the reason we stay open,” she joked. Vegail winked at her and then turned back to the Irish stranger. “So, two questions, one: what do I call you; and two: do you like champagne?” he asked, reaching out towards the bottle. Michael was in good spirits, and would gladly share a glass or two with the stranger, indicating with his hand for said person to help himself, if he was interested.

To assume that he did not come here was an accurate assumption, as Ryan usually preferred lesser clubs where there was more personal dancing. At the moment he was being what one could call tame, but that might have been simply because his usual query involved those not dressed in a suit. A female noted that this guy was the reason that they stayed open and that was more than enough reason to take an interest, physical attractiveness aside. ”You can call me Ryan, that’s what most people call me anyway, and yes, I like champagne.” he answered both questions smoothly resting his chin on the palm of his hand.

The ethereal reached over and grabbed the bottle, pouring himself a small glass and sipping on it. ”So you must be a pretty high roller if you’re the reason a place like this stays open.” Ryan noted lightly, taking another sip of the drink and sighing to himself. It was an easy enough observation, even for someone as dense as Ryan.

"Hello Ryan, it is a pleasure to meet you." Vegail extended his hand, a formality he was not very fond of, yet societal norms dictated that it be done. "High roller...Well, one might phrase it that way, I suppose. Working for a kid who gives out way too large paychecks can be nice. Although, I have never actually gambled in, or even been inside of, for that matter, a casino".

Vegail's phone vibrated, and he read the text that he had been sent. Apparently the staffing for the new Velon Industries locations in New York were proceeding rapidly, with people flocking to the potential careers. He allowed himself a small smile; tonight was getting better and better.

Looking back up towards Ryan, he inquired "So, what made you decide to come here tonight?".

The male asked about why he had come out here tonight, and he knew there was some reason for that. ”Boredom made me come here tonight, had nothing better to do and so I’m here.” Ryan noted with a shrug, taking another sip of the drink that he was still holding. ”So far still a little bored, though the music’s nice so I guess it’s a nice change of atmosphere atleast. He ntoed with a shrug tossing back his drink and downing it in one go.