2021-04-6 Rage, Rebellion and Anarchy
From LiberationMUSH Wiki
Hot blooded Anarchy
Location: Paper Tiger
Date and Time: May 6, 2021- 12:37 am
Summary: An Anarch makes assumptions.
The Paper Tiger used to be an Anarch hangout, once upon a time. Hell, it might still be. At the moment Deja is here seated by herself and avoiding the crowds. She's parked at a table up on the balcony that lets her watch the place and anyone who enters, her cellphone in her hands as she taps at it to distract herself.
Anarch hangout or not, Lydon Vogel steps into the place dressed sharply in a black business suit with a black cane in hand. The cane has a steel tip, and a red jeweled head which he uses as a prop for walking forward, finding a place to slink down into a seat and turn to watch the room with a cold, dour expression. The paleness of his complexion and the absence of his breathing... It's clear what he is, to those familiar enough to spot those identifying markers.
Deja is watching, of course. And she's the perceptive sort. She spots a face she's not familiar with and rises to her feet. Standing, her manner of dress is revealed to be a black hoodie worn with the hood down and some leggings beneath it, the hoodie large enough to practically be a dress. She heads down the stairs and moves to stand before Lydon's table, wordless for now.
Cold eyes drift for Deja as she approaches his table, the German figure tilting his head in contemplation for her for a moment. "Vell now if zis isn't a compliment, I don't know vat is." He tells her in a dour, icy tone, arranging himself neatly into his seat and gesturing openly for her to claim a seat with him. The cane is placed to lean against his leg, between the legs in a careful positioning. "To vat do I owe ze honor of your company?" <English>
"You stick out like a sore thumb." Deja replies, slinking into her seat and shoving her hands in her pockets. "I don't remember them having a fancy European member. Are you one of Christian's boys?" She looks Lydon over there, sinking back in her seat all too casually.
"Do I, now?" Lydon questions, turning a cold glance around the space in contemplation and then returning his gaze for Deja, brow arching upwardly. "Let's say zat I am, zen. Vat vould zis be to you? Vould you take terrible offense to my presence?" He appraises. <English>
"Are you, or aren't you? I'm not a big fan of riddles." Deja says, not willing to play her cards just this yet. A hand withdraws from her pocket and toys with the string of her hoodie as she looks aside, out over the club. "I'm just here making polite conversation."
"Vat a shame. I am." Lydon counters for Deja, and then he smirks in contemplation. "I vould sink zat ze appropriate sing to do for making polite conversation vould be to introduce yourself, and announce vhich group you are wis." He offers, both hands resting over the head of his cane. "How long have you been in LA?" <English>
"Interesting. You're with Los Perdidos." Deja shrugs with a snort. "I'm Deja. And I want to talk to your boss. So go ahead and get him on the phone." She shifts forward in her seat, her palms rubbing against her knees. "I'm with myself."
"I do not sink zat I vill be able to get him on ze phone just now. Christian has not been seen in a vhile, dealing wis... Family affairs, I imagine. I vas not told exactly vat zat vas." Lydon admits for Deja with an easy shrug of his shoulder. "Vat business vould you have wis him anyway?" He questions, arching a brow and tilting his head towards her. "Are you looking to join ze crew?" <English>
"If he doesn't have time for me? No." Deja says plainly enough. "But I'm not going to talk shop with one of the underlings. No offense. With everything that's going on that doesn't seem like a good idea." She gives Lydon a rather bland look over, rubbing the side of her neck and looking like she's about to rise to her feet, weight pivoting forward.
"Underling? I am raser... Offended by ze descriptor. Vell, zen I vill not waste time delivering messages, eiser." Lydon counters coldly, shrugging loosely and turning to look out towards the rest of the room as though dismissing her. "I vill remember ze name, however. If it comes up in conversation... Vell. At least I vill know it." <English>
"I always knew Christian was a fucking asshole. Fuck Los Perdidos." Deja practically spits as she rises to her feet. "You're worse than fucking Spade." She snarls there, fingers curling against her palms, digging into them to drive her rage down. "Fuck you and the horse who rode in on you." And then she's pivoting, heading for the door.
"Now zis message, I vill deliver." Lydon calls out for Deja as she departs, but otherwise doesn't seem to stop her from leaving. <English>
