It's Saturday night, and there's no horrible heal crisises keeping people from congregating. So the place is packed. Damion has a table in the dinner section of the club, but pretty much every other table is full, with plenty of people at the bar. Up on stage, a slender dark-haired woman is spinning around the bar athletically. Music is playing, and the lighting is a bit dim. The dragon is wearing his typical suit when he's working, and may or may not have a short rusty latina seated at the table with him. If she's not by the stage, or backstage talking to the dancers. It mostly depends on how hungry she is. He's watching the crowd, relaxing in his seat and sipping a glass of bourbon.
Neither rusty nor Latina, the grey-furred feline at least qualifies as 'short'? Then again, being twelve inches high makes her shorter than just about everybody and everything here...
She may not enjoy being petted by said rusty Latina, but it looks like she has nothing against being seen as a general rule. A pink nose pokes out from the backstage area, pale whiskers and the rest of her small, furry face following, before she saunters out onstage, tail and chin held high, as if she has every right to be there. The cat streeeetches down before the pole, forepaws out, floofy bottom in the air, then rolls over, tail curling and flopping, before reaching out and batting at the pole in such a way that she spins around it on the floor. When that palls, she slinks up and streeetches her front legs up the side of the thing, like a scratching post, but doesn't actually scratch it.
There is more than one form of pussy in this club.
Widget is genuine friends with some of the dancers here, which might say a lot about how her life is going. It's not like...okay it sometimes...right /now/ she's just chatting, enjoying company, and eventually wandering out of the back. She mills over to the dragon, between watching the stage and ordering a tall glass of beer. Oh, neat, Opal was o-
WAs...was it following her?
It takes a second for the dancer to notice the cat on the stage, and she almost steps on her before she does. Her heeled foot halting above the white cat as she grips the pole harder to steady herself. She looks in confusion down at the cat, then tries to shoot it away with a foot, glancing arond for a waitress or bouncer or something ot retrieve it. Once she manages to get it off of the stage one way or another, she resumes her routine, though there's a little smirk on her face at the arrival of the cat. She's suppossed to be the only uncovered pussy on stage!
Damion smiles over at Widget after she emerges from the back. When she reaches his table, hse uses a thumb to wipe away a small smear of lipstick on her cheek, from a certain short busty black dancer. "Hey Wij." Then he looks at the stage. Catching it when the cat comes out, a brow raising. One of the bouncers moves over to the stage, reaching onto it to try and grab the fluffy intruder.
Wait! Wait! Oh. "Wait!" The gremlin scrabbles over, hastily offering some...well, whatever meat she could get on short notice, which on her end is going to be beef jerky. She remembers the rules, a little. Be careful. Don't just grab it. Listen to it. Offer stuff and see what happens. It's kind of like how November works, except Widget isn't ambiently scared of the cat. "Know the cat. Yes."
The feline, being feline, trusts in her feline-ness to ensure that the humans around her will do what she wants, and not step on her with nasty icky heels. Her fur is pale grey, banded in darker grey, though around her face and chest, it may as well be white.
When the bouncer comes to try to grab her, she gives them a look of haughty disdain, springs up to perch, briefly, on the bouncer's shoulder, then wriggles free to hop down onto the floor and disappear beneath the tables there, leaving ankle-tickles in her fuzzy wake.
How did that cat get in here? Damion watches in amusement as Widget tries to catch the cat, and it just disappears into the crowd like that. He leans back in his seat, taking another sip of his drink, and lets the bouncer try to move through the club to chase the elusive feline. If it makes its way into the kitchen or something it would be bad, but as is, he's not too worried about it. It looked pretty well-groomed. He can't quite hear what Widget said about said feline from where he is with the music.
There's a peal of laughter, from the entry, as shadows in the room seem to stretch and grow, deepening the darkness of the club by several watts more. The pair that come through the door are certainly ones that cause some head-swivel from patrons and dancers alike, even those that cannot see them for what they really are. Carter and Zillah Logan, after all, are a striking couple.
"One night, I'll have to dance again," the slithersnake murmurs as she grins up to the Devil, with that lazy and oozy demeanor that suggests this isn't the first club they've made it to, tonight.
Widget tries to find that cat. Where is it? It's gotta be....maybe....c'mon out already....ack! No cat, no offering accepted. It's still here, Widget suspects /that/ much. But as for finding it, she's coming up empty, having bothered more than a few patrons already.
Noticing the effects on the lighting, Damion turns his head towards the entry. Seeing the former Queen and current King there together, he raises a hand their way. "Cartrer. Zillah. Join me?" He gestures at his otherwise empty table. Widget currently being occupied scurrying under other tables, trying to find a cat. Hopefully she doesn't see too many unfortunate errections while down there. He finishes his bourbon and sets his glass down on the table with a clink.
Carter is rather better dressed, tonight, than he was at Court - which is to say that he's back to his usual array of impeccable suits. There have been some alterations, obviously; there's the ring, for one, and the little silver lapel pin in the shape of a serpent. And the Spring Crown, for those with eyes to see. The power of the season is so strong around him that, commingled with Zillah's own Mantle, the Treasure Vault suddenly manages to seem far more sinful than it already was.
He still has the cane, too, though he no longer leans so heavily on it when he walks. Instead, it moves lazily along beside him, tip barely tapping against the floor. His other arm is around the Moon courtier's shoulders, and he laughs at her words, leaning in to press a kiss against her cheek. "We do have a pole of our own," he says. "You'll have to practice your routine for me, some time."
Then Damion speaks, and he glances over, his smile remaining. "Mister King," he says. "Thank you. I think we will." And he moves to join the dragon.
Cats work in mysterious ways. How do cats get anywhere? Why would human(oid)s ever think they know the answer? While Widget is looking on one side of the club, the cat, having caught wind of the gremlin, has darted in quite the opposite direction, though upon finding herself near the exit doors, she pauses, then takes shameless advantage of being able to hide in the Moon's shadows, slinking stealthily along behind Zillah.
Guh. Well, fine. Widget's gonna keep an eye out, the arrival of the new folk doing a good job of stopping her. She's seen many things under these tables. Many, many, many things. Certainly an experience of note, her little excursion to find the feline. Now, however, it's time to hug the devil like he's a dear friend. Because. Y'know. He is.
They are excellent shadows to hide in, and the addition of Carter's Spring mantle also covers things like scent. For the feline, it's a very good plan. At least as long as the Serpent doesn't notice it. "I'll dance for you any night, love," Zillah purrs out. "But you've had me so distracted lately, that I had completely forgotten about our own pole." There's a laughter that comes with that admission, before she's raising a hand to waggle fingers at Damion.
Zee is more than happy to take that called invitation, moving along with Carter with matched stride. But when he's waylaid by the hugging of the gremlin, she slides on out of his one-armed embrace, to take a seat at the table. "Hey there, D. How's tricks?"
Damion smiles over at Zillah. "You're looking lovely as ever." He motions a waitress over to the table to take take their orders, then reaches out when Widget returns and ruffles her hair briefly before she's hugging Carter. "You seem to be moving much better. Mr. Carter. I'm doing alright, Zee. It's Saturday, so. Busy." The club is packed. There's no free tables, so they honestly didn't have a lot of alternatives for seats. Even if they probably could have charmed their way into another table if they really wanted to. He doesn't notice the cat trailing behind the snake. "How're things with you two going?"
Using the Devil and the Serpent to hide is only a good idea so long as they stay together, in truth. When Zillah peels away from Carter's side to make room for gremlin hugs, the shadows recede, leaving the cat standing not far from a man whose immensely Fae presence has caused most of the clubgoers to give him a bit of a wide berth. Plenty of room to not get stepped on, but not many places to hide.
So when the Devil eventually releases his one-armed return of the gremlin-hug, there aren't too many places to run and hide as he turns and looks down at the cat. One eyebrow raises, very slightly, and then Carter slowly lowers himself to reach down and extend his fingertips towards the cat. No touch, yet, but placing them within easy sniffing range.
"Well, now," he says quietly. There's a faint, amused curiousity in his voice. "What are you, exactly?"
There's a 'ha!' from somewhere in the crowd, Widget /knew/ there was a cat still around! "At the..." Lean. Lean. We good? We good. "Wayhouse. And diner. No tags. Runs away a lot. Yes." Widget fidgets, scuttling over to her beer to have a good swig and get the nerves down a little bit. There we are. All good. "Likes meat."
"It's wonderful to see that business is good. I do so love it when people give into their vices." Zillah gives a fanged grin, as she sinks comfortably into her chair. Moon-struck eyes glance to the stage, taking a brief interest in the woman on stage, but it's fleeting. "Things with us are splendid, really. Taking a small break so that they can restock our ship, and I had a few small things to see to." Oh, that smile on her lips. It's trouble. But when hasn't it been? Her gaze slides over towards Carter, arching brows as she sees the feline he's crouched down for.
The feline slinks along in stealthy silence for as long as she can, but the shadows' disappearance brings that to a dangerously well-lit, in comparison, halt. She freezes in place, ears laying back, and crouches ever so slightly more heavily on her hind legs than the fore, ready to spring and bolt. When grey-green eyes see just WHAT is leaning over her, however, her tail-tip twitches, and her ears relax a trifle. Only a trifle. She isn't bolting, though, and the extended fingertips are accepted, and sniffed in silently inscrutable feline appraisal. So far, so good. At least, until she sees Widget. Hopefully Carter is better at balancing on his new legs, because he abruptly has a cat tackling his chest and clinging there with all four sets of claws in her haste to clamber up and out of the gremlin's reach.
Damion raises a brow a little at Widget. "Really. You ran into this cat at all three places?" Those molten golden orbs turn towards said cat. "That's strange. Though I suppose it isn't the biggest town." Maybe it follows the smell of food. And food-scented body oil, here. "In most circles, Carter, that is referred to as a 'Cat'. Or a 'Kitty'. Depending on how active they are, 'Hairy Slug' can also be used." The waitress that has arrived clears her throat. "Um. Can I take your orders?" Assuming they place their drink and/or food orders, she writes them down then departs. Those two are pretty distracting. And her boss is there as well. Along with tiny, skinny mexican girl that seems to hang around the club a lot. She's not a dancer so she really doesn't know what's going on with that. Damion tilts his head at Zillah. "Ship?"
Carter is obviously taken by surprise when the cat leaps for his chest, but he does not actually lose his balance. Instead, he recovers with perfect poise, and with all the supernal grace of the Fairest, he stands again. One hand comes up to push the cat upward, off of his chest and up towards his shoulders.
"I'm aware of its species, Mister King," he says smoothly. He doesn't look towards the dragon as he speaks. Instead, he turns his head slightly to look more closely at the cat, one eyebrow still raised. "I am not, in point of fact, a complete dullard. Really, now." He turns, moving slowly so as to not upset the cat's balance, and makes his way over towards the table. In deference to the cat's apparent panic, he stops on the side of it opposite Widget, closer to Zillah.
"Surprise me," he says to the waitress, with an effortlessly winning smile. His free hand moves out to settle on Zillah's shoulder, and he gives a slight squeeze before looking back to the cat. "You've seen her around quite a bit, then, Miss Widget?" he asks. "Interesting." There's something just a /bit/ sharp behind his voice as he says it, and his gaze, for once, is actually fully present and interested in its subject as he peers at his new feline passenger. When he speaks again, his voice is very quiet indeed.
"So where /have/ you come from, little one?"
Widget looks a little upset the cat still hates her, pausing in her joy to stare and kinda feel pretty bad about this. Ah well. She orders a cut of meat and some fries, sitting close to whoever will have her as she takes some time to watch the stage. That'd...that'd help.
Zillah's gaze is all for Carter and this new feline, her lips pursing together slightly. "Yes, ship. Carter had a yacht made for us, and we've been enjoying a slice of our honeymoon on it. Not as long of one as we would have liked, but, well." Inky fingers gesture to the King in question. "I'll have absinthe, if it's on the menu. If not, the very best whiskey. The whole bottle, for either, if you please." Her eyes flit to Widget, and she offers helpfully, "Most animals don't enjoy being chased. Be careful, cats can take out an eye without hesitation."
Carter's poise helps the cat, too, and the Devil may note that she is far more careful about -not- pulling any threads from his clothes than an ordinary cat would be, claws used only when absolutely necessary to help her keep her balance. She huddles close to his neck, crouching there where she can keep her balance most easily, and does her best to remain unnoticed, which isn't admittedly particularly easy, when perched atop a Devil whose clothes are going to have white and variously grey fur all over them by the time she leaves.
Pale ears turn back in wary anxiety when Carter asks where she came from, and she hunches down further, grooming a front paw and keeping her attention divided between the Devil and the gremlin.
Damion is a little startled when the cat leaps at the Devil as well, but just laughs. Then he replies to Carter, "I'm aware, Mr. Scratch. I was making a joke of course." He slips an arm around Widget when she sits next to him, giving her a little squeeze. A woman that looks like the archetypal tall, busty blonde dancer has replaced the last one on stage and is swinging around a little less gracefully but with considerably more jiggling. Not that she's unskilled. It seems dancers don't get hired here unless they actually know how to dance. The last one was just a little better. Like most of the dancers, it's one that Widget is familiar with. Damion focuses on the interaction between the Devil, the Serpent, and the Cat. Brows furrowing slightly in curiosity.
Widget's staring, confused. This cat was both extremely easily spooked but not...violent? Widget is used to mogs that go for her face and the...other...kitten, but not like this. This was weird, in her book. And it's following her! Maybe. They're three for three, so far. "Is it magic?" So helpful, Widget is.
"The Garden is a beautiful vessel, and we shall be returning to her at the earliest possible opportunity, I think," Carter says. His voice is warm and conversational, but that look of sharp curiosity hasn't left his features. The cat draped across his shoulders seems intensely fascinating to him, right now. "Society at large may place its demand on our schedule, but Zillah and I have waited far too long to be denied our celebration."
He looks over at Widget when she speaks, and a tiny smile quirks the corners of his lips. "All cats are magical to some degree, Miss Widget," he says. Just the /barest/ tone of warning in that voice, and a wing shifts slightly, indicating the mortals gathered around. "I'd be surprised if this one wasn't. But I do think she's a bit special, yes." Still not moving to sit down, though he keeps his hand on Zillah's shoulder. A light pressure, but an insistent one. "She certainly has an eclectic taste in venues to go looking for food, if your stories are to be believed."
Eventually the waitress returns, setting a plate of food in front of Widget, a glass and a bottle of Absnithe in front of Zillah, and in front of Carter, a red mixed drink of some sort. It contains vodka, peach schnapps, Southern Comfort, gin, triple sec, orange juice and grenadine. Damion looks at Widget's question and smiles. "Well. I think all cats are a little magic." Apparently echoing Carter. He looks more closely at Misty on the Devils shoulder. "It could be coincidence. Not that I really believe in that anymore. The Garden, you said? Maybe I'll see it someday."
"They should be done restocking it, soon," Zillah murmurs, "And getting the linens replaced." Her gaze slants towards the stage for the changing of dancers, but the blonde doesn't hold her attention for long. Turning her head ever so slightly, she kisses the back of Carter's hand before she speaks again. "She seems to get around, then. Like most cats." A curve to her lips, and a murmur of thanks to the waitress that brings their tray of things on by. "Most things aren't. Coincidence, that is."
"Very few things are," Carter agrees, with a nod towards Zillah. Then, still moving slowly so as to not upset the cat's balance, he slips down into the booth beside her, hooking his cane over the edge of the table. He plucks up his drink and takes a sip, then lifts his other hand and, gently, scratches behind the cat's ear. Then he leans over and murmurs very quietly into the Serpent's ear.
Well, the weird gay magic cat can wait, while Widget inhales her food. Damion's place has great grub, after all. And she has meaaat. Glorious meaaaaat. "Okay. Started as a cat?" Ah well. She's too hungry to ruminate.
The anxious grooming ceases when the hand comes into view, and the feline interloper watches it, muscles palpably tensing where she rests on the Devil's shoulder. When all it does is head toward her ear, though, she goes all but limp with relief, submitting immediately to receive the attention she is, of course, due to receive. Magic or no magic, ear scritching takes priority over revelations. No purring, though.
The Serpent's head tilts slightly, to listen to whatever the Devil has to say into her ear. Now that he's seated, her hand settles upon his thigh in a light touch. Not so high as to be scandalous, at least not yet. She lifts her glass, and takes a slow drink of the absinthe as she lets out a soft sound. "You always have the best ideas, love," she replies easily, as she leans away slightly, from the feline. "I wonder where Tom wandered back off to," is also added, a thought to herself given voice.
Well. This evening is turning out fairly enjoyable. Damion relaxes in his seat, cuddling the devouring imp and watching the interaction between his various friends. Carter ocunts as a friend, right? He shrugs a shoulder over at Zillah, "You know how cats are." His eyes briefly settling on Misty again. He considers, then leans forward and reaches over the table. Carefully rubbing the cats ears for a few moments in turn before settling back.
It's probably best Widget isn't present enough to want to name it. Well, okay, to /offer/ a name. Gray. Meatlover (after the pizza), Magic Cat, that sort of thing. Instead she pauses, swigs some booze, and listens. She's not even gonna /try/ to pet it now. It hurt, last time.
The effort to rub her ears on Damion's part is met with an immediate resumption of the feline's tension, ears laid back, body shrinking tightly against the dubious shelter of Carter's neck. She isn't quite trembling, but the moment the dragon's hand is withdrawn, she starts grooming her front paws again, immaculate as they are. It's the mention of her name which draws those grey-green eyes upward, intent but wary.
Awww. Apparently no petting the cat for him. Damion sighs a little but leaves it at that. He studies the cat curiously. She seems nervous... sort of. Except with Carter. Was there something about him or something about the rest of them?