1. [Skinwalker] Take Me to Church

Riley leaned against the door frame that led to the back stage, his eyes scanned the stage, the seating area, the lights. Stripping and Poledancing had led Riley to numerous venues, from dingy strip cubs, to private parties, to fancy clubs. The city of Sin always had a demand for exotic dancers. Burlesque however was a tougher market to break into as Riley had found. He had talent but not many venues outside of queer bars and comedy clubs had places for queer burlesque performers , at least ones without a name. Black sheep could change that.

The idle thoughts were cut short after the MC of the evening had introduced Lady Jackoff. Emerging into the light, Suits and ties, heels and corsets, a grey boa as a cheeky nod to the Mothy performer and lots of lace. RIleys shows delved into the soup of gender and turbulent sea of attraction. Seeing with each piece of clothing removed, revealed a known cheeky hallmark of a different gender identity. RIley liked to confuse the attraction of others, pulling them this way and that to the edge (or beyond )their comfort, only to break the (sexual) tension with a well timed joke or physical comedy. Sticking to the stage was short lived before the performance took itself down to the audience in the front row. The routine was done to a jazzy rendition of Aerosmiths “Dude looks like a lady”

The performance ended with Lady Jackoff, lounged across the lip of the stage. A fake mustache over her lip, a. Lace jockstrap with garters, and pasties that read, He/him and She/Her on either breast. While daintily smoking a large phallic cigar.
To the eyes of the lost, the radiance was almost literal, a glow illuminated from darkling's sternum.

Stepping backstage, Riley took a deep breath as she ran her hand through her silver hair, pulling out the Golden Hairnette to let it all fall loose to her shoulder. Dawning a slip and evening dress, Riley emerged from the backstage door to the bar, a drink to cool off and to enjoy the next show was in order.

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Burlesque Show: Rolled Pressence3 +Expression3 +Specialization 1= rolled 7 dice and got 2 successes. 8 6 9 3 5 5 4
(OOC: If the Pronoun shifting is confusing for reading, let me know)

The Darkling’s initial nod was met with a smile, but most of Linden’s attention was on the stage. Having settled onto a stool a short distance down the bar, the Ogre did their best to keep their long limbs out of anyone’s way and gave Riley the attention she deserved. It was always refreshing to watch someone else act out and touch on experiences they understood so viscerally. And that it was possible, in places like this, to make it fun and joyous, confusing to some but not unwelcome, brought them comfort.

Finishing the end of their drink with a fond expression, they unwound themself from their seat and moved toward the others. “Hey Riley, glad I could catch your show. Linden,” they added, by way of introduction to the frail-looking Autumn, “Nice to meet you. And, apps? Twist my arm.” With an easy grin, the Ogre settled onto the stool one seat away from Bonnie and turned to order another drink.

The minor distance they retained was mostly for Bonnie’s comfort: Linden was a large person, it was a little early to be knocking arms and knees at a bar. It was also for their own sake: the Darkling’s spindly fingers made them nervous; they couldn’t help assuming they were brittle, like the bones of old people, or birds.

It appeared that Bonnie had already ordered for more than one person. Loaded nachos, wings, and bite sized churros were placed in front of the them by the food runner with a quick thanks from the Darkling. She spread them out for the other two.

The tatooed bartender with horn-rimmed glasses nodded to Riley, producing a glass with a king cup and quietly running a match along the edge of the rind, oils hissing before they rolled the peel along the rim and let it drop inside. As the drink was built, Bonnie's head swiveled between the two of them as they confirmed they knew each other. "It's slick," she added quietly to the performer's excitement.

Bonnie had already raided the churros in a matter of moments——in terms of anticipating a group, they stood corrected.

She grinned at the question, "It was dying out in the seventies, glad it's retro...vintage? Anyway, it's old enough to be cool again. The nostalgia," she hummed, finishing off her glass. An practiced scientific eye had been watching the two for a stretch, sighing after a moment.

"I'm actually researching something, but keeping my distance until I have a bit more information," Bonnie admitted. "Jack wanted the report once I was done," a nod was offered to Linden, like they would know what she's talking about. "What about you, Riley, have you always been into dancing?"

Riley’s r gently rocked the Old fashion while listening to the musings of the other Darkling. How Bonnie spoke of it suggested that she had experienced the seventies, or knew enough about it to sound like she had. It was something Riley had grown to love about other Lost, there was always something more than what meets the eyes.



A long sip of the old fashioned followed by taking up a churru. The moth's eyebrow raised inquisitively at the exchange between Linden and Bonnie.



“Of sorts, I was a theater and dance kid in  high school- Went to college for dance. Than well when I came to Vegas I decided to embrace the skill set. Burlesque is relatively a new venture, taking clothes off  on stage? Not so much” Riley flashed a smile.

Swirling their whiskey sour absently, Linden set the picked bones of the chicken wing on a napkin and neatened the corner of their mouth with a thumb. They didn't pretend to know the intimate workings of their Court, but something this important wasn't to be ignored. The thought that the Court would have already informed them if they wanted the Ogre involved was easy enough to shrug off; circumstances changed, and expectations should change with them. It would be far more irresponsible not to see the Thingy, at this point, especially as she expressed appreciation for the potential help.

"I don't know what you're talking about," they admitted, blunt as ever. Honesty was an inconvenient policy, but Linden had always been a terrible liar; after awhile they stopped trying, and at this point in their life it was just a fact. Saying things they didn't mean made them tired and the lies were a hassle to keep track of anyway.

Leaning in a little, they lowered their voice as well. "But, I'd like to. And I'd like to help you." If the Constable was involved, it seemed like a safe bet. The Ogre's eyes flicked briefly to Riley, not about to volunteer the Spring, but curious.

It would be extremely embarrassing if Riley already knew what was going on...

Bonnie blinked again, realizing Linden wasn't joking and taking it in stride, "Oh! Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned it." Her smile indicated a lack of remorse, growing as both volunteered. She took a moment to dab her eyes, ever misting for the dead, before the bartender is hailed and the tabs are settled. Bonnie paid for the food, and Riley, the drinks. The banshee tucked away the tablet and keyboard into a messenger bag as she nodded for them to follow her, leading around the bend and into the concrete capillaries of Downtown. It was a normal precaution, allowing them to talk more freely, though she walked with a purposeful direction as she babbled.



"Maybe some background first: I'm a PI that specializes in missing persons. Now I'm a spirit that heralds bad tidings and the death of loved ones? My family isn't even Irish. Guess I lucked out with the temperament," she snorted with an edge of sarcasm. "The gifts I got lets me settle cold cases, so I've jived with Lucky Jack a few times... Oh- Constable for Summer," she explains, looking back at Riley.



"Anyway, he gave me a call after someone called in a dog fighting ring. So this dog, right? She gets gutted, but got up, and kept going. Disturbed the guy enough to narc. When the five-oh rolls in, they know to give all the weird shit to Jack. She isn't just in bad shape, she's missing her voice box, but still trying to give 'er. They boxed her up, and I take a look. I exorcised the spirit, but now I'm on this second call."



She gestures vaguely towards the west, "Child complains that he can hear the cat. Died of old age a few days ago. I scoped the neighbourhood? There's at least four of these manifestations. I'm going to need some help getting into the gated community at the edge of Centennial, and, you know, being in several places at once. Once the samples are under control...I can gauge if this was a freak incident? I was asked to be discreet before we had more information."



The Gravewight didn't really elaborate on what she was working on in the bar, or if the whole purpose of the venture was to rope in associates. However, there wasn't any indication that she was hiding anything either.

Undead animals? Manifestations…



The story gave Riley pause, glancing around the bar to be sure they had not been overheard. The moth placed their glass on the table, and leaned in towards the P.I.



“I Don't know much on the topic of...well “ Riley gestured at Linden regarding their zombie comment.



“But if its observation and getting into the community you need. Well I may be able to help with that part” It was vague but the Darkling was sincere in their offer.



It seemed convenient that Riley and Linden had been around for Bonnie. But courtly politics aside, manifestations of the undead took priority.