Thread: A New Arrival (09/25/09)

Sabre bursts into the club with a returned flair that had not been seen from him in some time. Many people recognize him as either the Street Racer he is or the Street Fighter he is, and all seem to appreciate his appearance there. Rather than slink through the crowd like a predator, he mingles and dances his way around the floor, giving and receiving hugs and kisses from those he knows and those who know him. He's dressed in all black, dockers and t-shirt alike, the only variation from the all black is his pinstriped Fedora. As he makes his way towards the VIP he notes the stranger in the booth. He pauses at the doors to the VIP room and instead turns around and takes a table nearby to make some observations.

Cold blue eyes follow the club favorite as he frolics among the people. He is motionless, smirking only slightly allowing his icy blue pools to trace the path and pattern of the new-comer all the way to his booth. Cicero says nothing but observes the now observer. After several moments staring at the street fighter he looks back to the crowd of humans like the tiger watching the gazelle from the tall grass. He arches his fingers into a steeple and continues observing the nightlife.

After several moments of watching the newcomer, he gets the feeling that he is a part of the same social circle as himself. Still, the question remained which sect if any this newcomer followed. He decidedly rose to his feet and walked over to the newcomers booth and flopped down into the seat opposite of him. With a grin he says, "Sup?"

As the street fighter stands Cicero's eyes swiftly race to watch his every move to the point of the club favorite sitting in the sit across from him. Cicero stares another long, awkward moment. There is a force of personality, a feeling of waves of magnetism that come from him before his eyes drift back to the crowd. It is a long wait, almost as if Cicero is ignoring the company before he speaks. His voice is deep and resonates clearly as he manages to speak between the beats of the rave music. He doesn't have to raise his voice for it to be heard through the cacophonous techno, "'Sup..." he responds, more as if analyzing the word and less as a response, "...please, have a seat." His humor is somewhat dry but is definitely noticeable.

Sabre smirks and lets out a small quick laugh. He can tell already there is something about this guys mannerisms and humor that he likes. He glances out at the crowd then back at the newcomer before speaking, "I couldn't help but notice how you watch the crowd. I was just curious as to what kind of predator you are?"

Cicero does not look to regard his company as he responds. His eyes follow the shifting tide of the crowds as he replies, "It is simply amazing, is it not? They are so captivated by the music - how it pulls them from within and moves them. I cannot deny, there is something primal in these computerized beats. I can almost feel that wave they enjoy now...but for me, it is like I stand overlooking the shore instead of among the tide." His eyes finally drift to his company and another long pause ensues as he lets his words sink in.

After a moment, he continues, "Are we not all predators in some way? Do we not all hunt for some base need that drives us?" He again only stares at his acquaintance. "I come not to hunt, but hunting is my way. I am here waiting for one of my seven friends to avail themselves to me." He studies Sabre again, "Why are you here?"

Sabre almost looks amused as he comes to realize this guy just might be far older than he looks. He could tell by the way he talked. People of this day and age just didn't talk like that anymore. He also noted that the only time the man seemed to breathe was when he was about to speak, which gave away his existence. He nods and smiles before saying, "Well, if you want the answer to that question, you're more than welcome to join me in the VIP room where there are less ears and no need to talk in code."

Cicero looks at Sabre for several more moments as if assessing the intentions of what could be considered an innocent invitation or also a trip to a room filled with those waiting to ambush him. He smirks as he looks over the humans again, "Think of it not as code, my acquaintance - but the lexicon of which you must embrace the rest of your life." He waits another long moment as the DJ's track finally finishes. Without looking to Sabre he replies through the cheer of the crowd, "Head the path."