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Ducii was always looking for an excuse to leave her inhibitions at the door, and clubbing was one of the best ways to do it. As the sun set, she R-Ubered to the old ironworks warehouses. When it pulled up to where others were already beginning to filter in through, she shot the driver a dazzling smile and handed over a small pouch jingling with coins. "Thank you," the blonde bombshell purred, gracefully exiting the carriage.

She grinned, looking down to the glamoured flier then back up to the warehouse. The music already to called to her and she hadn't even entered yet, coursing through her veins extinguishing every trace of the unwanted blood that contaminated her insides. Shutting off the thinking side of her brain, she follows a crowd up to the door, her arms lifting her body as the music grows louder. Chocolate eyes are heated, drunk on fire and her lips kiss the threshold of liberty as she abandons her inhibitions and dances her way in.

Her elbows gracefully tear through the air, in perfect rhyme with her stiletto clad feet. Setting a curve that no menace can surpass; for she is here for herself tonight. Her feet hit the floor in a boisterous cry for all that was denied. One arm stretches out, her waist jerking outward vivaciously. It seems to reject all the silent judgement that the world offered to her...The other arm follows suit with yet another jerk of her slim waist. There is nothing that can calm her tempestuous gale as she slides through the crowd, brushing bodies in her exploration of the scene.

She bursts into flames with every bob of her head, every jiggle of her shoulders, with every gyration of her hips. Not seeking a partner in her debauchery, she kindly declines any forward advances. Not one for drugs, she expertly sashays around the peddlers and finds herself advancing on the booze. However, if she was roofied, she'd never know. The blonde could be pliable, even when drugged, but she was firm in her demands to be left alone. No one would be taking her tonight; she owned the night.

Gyrating and spinning around in fanatic circles, every jerk of her waist, every flick of her hair, every beat of her feet, ever shrug of her shoulder beckons to the world and says, see me, watch me, want me....but I'm not yours.

Maybe she was persuaded into a private room by a male or female for a brief tryst, but she could be found still dancing in the middle of the room as dawn broke.

No one could cull Duci this night.

The blonde stayed tucked tight to Eddie's side, something pricking along her skin, but nothing she could put her finger on. Maybe it was just because the big man felt so tense, which was rare...she wasn't going to let the hungry stares ruin their night - it wasn't like those were unusual at all. Especially not when the two of them were together. Still, she was more than happy to follow him out onto the dance floor, the occasional glimpse of a familiar face lost in the thump and grind of the music.

https://ak2.polyvoreimg.com/cgi/img-set/cid/232645972/id/eBjNKGfn5xGc8910oDbrPw/size/y.jpg The problem with being Fae, some things made your skin itch. The problem with being a con man, there is the tendency to not trust what?s offered. That can hamper interpersonal relationships, or save you from a night spent with a straw in your veins and a whole lotta strangers lips sampling your inner self. Eddie spent the night keeping Tahlia within inches of his frame. Sometimes they call that dancing. Whatever it was being called, by the few faces he recognized, they did it until the sun broke the horizon. Sunlight meant only one thing, it was bedtime.

Halcyon's silvered eyes were keen, cold, watching in a distant cool as the old ironworks opened for business. Flesh instead of ore, both as malleable as the other. It couldn't be difficult to forge a mind overwhelmed in drink and drugs and music into something entirely else.

She turned away and walked away from the building. Stupid awaited her on the street. She pulled herself to his saddle.

The fliers for this rave had been passing around Halcyon's parish like wildfire. She noted quickly that even parents paranoid of anything going on seemed not to mind at all how excited their kids were about it. To Halcyon, they were simply fliers. To others, they were something more. It was enough to put the paladin's back up.

There were only a few ways for the teenagers to get to the Dockside event, and fortunately, years ago, streets had been closed off to car traffic in an effort to hinder the drug and prostitution trade. It worked, more or less. At least made the hypes and johns get more exercise.

The excited laughter and squealing and glee of a large group of teenagers fell silent as with three heavy clops of hoof, their path was barred by the giant gray horse. They all slowly looked up to see the paladin regarding them absently. Thoughtfully.

"Hey, come on, we're not doing anything, we're just hanging out, and you can't just harass us because you're in the guard!" one of the girls blurted out, pushing to the front of the little pack. The rest gained courage from her, and began to yell at the impervious woman and her gigantic mount.

Without warning, Halcyon half stood in the saddle. Chain sang out as she spun a length finished with a huge hook over her head. It cracked and rang, leaving her hand to wrap in a clash of cold iron around a light pole. The chain ran across the street, implacable.

"You can't do that!" the girl yelped, backing away from the paladin.

"Road be closed," Halcyon responded absently.

"Fine, we can go the long way, what is even your problem"! We're just going to a rave! Just because you have a stick up your ass doesn't mean we do!" a boy snapped, glaring at the woman and horse.

"Me problem be that I bein't allowed to just shorten by a head anyone tryin' t' take or harm ye devils. So. Shall we make a deal?"

The teens stared at Halcyon, baffled. They muttered amongst themselves, then finally, the first girl folded her arms over her chest and regarded the woman with narrow eyes.

"What's this deal?"

"Come," Halcyon noted, abruptly swinging from the giant's saddle. She aimed for their curiosity and paranoia alike, and struck home. Shrugging, the girl, then the rest, straggled along after Halcyon. Each step she took was punctuated with the rill of spurs, carrying them further and further from the rave.

Years, decades, ago, 'Bonny Bunny's All Furry Fun Review' had been a reasonably popular funland mini golf course and arcade. It featured indoor golf courses filled with creepy taxidermy animals and badly preserved greenery. There had been a few bizarre dark rides, and at one time had featured a floor show of creepy animatronic toon animals.

The gates were open. The front doors to the building were open. The power was on. Halcyon stopped at the gate and regarded the teens.

"...No way," a boy whispered, wide eyed. Bonny's had always been too well locked up to sneak into. With surveillance cameras and silent alarms well maintained, it had become a holy grail for urban explorers to break into.

"Have a care. I be told the place be haunted and that the robot animals be restless," Halcyon responded lazily, seeming to lose interest in the group of teens.

"You're just going to let us run wild in there," the girl demanded sceptically, "And then we get arrested for trespassing in the morning"!"

Yet as she protested, several of the teens were already heading for the allure of the creepy funland.

"Guys! Come on! She's setting us up!"

"I be on camera, yonder, allowin' ye to go within," Halcyon pointed out, nodding to one of the pole mounted security cameras.

The girl bit her lower lip, looking to the camera, then abruptly hurried to join her friends. A smaller group of teens were already there, exploring the old building. Screams of terrified delight rang out. The PA system squawked before pouring out the garbled and horrific music for the animatronic floor show.

No creepy adults and their weird ideas of fun, no getting shown up by glamorous scene queens, no having to keep checking their drinks. It just seemed strange that the taciturn paladin had opened the place up for them. To lure them away from the lure of the rave.

"Dudes, check it out, ancient Bonny weed," a boy gloated, displaying a small plastic baggie of marijuana, "It was in cash register. No money, though."

"That's not ancient weed, that's fresh. Halcy must have planted it there."

"See" She's setting us up!"

"If she is, she's doing it pretty stupid."

"Dank! There's Surge and Ecto Cooler in the soda fountains!"

There were fresh snacks, even packs of cigarettes. The bathrooms worked. Some of the animatronics had been moved throughout the building, giving a Five Nights at Freddy's vibe. The teenagers simply couldn't figure why Halcyon would go to that trouble.

Which didn't stop them from calling their friends to join them at the funland.

"I hope she doesn't think this is going to make us trust her," one of the girls sniffed, tossing her head, "She's RhyDin Guard, they don't give a damn about us."

"She's the only one of them who gives a crap that my sister disappeared," a boy replied slowly. He glared at the groans and denial around him.

"Asphodel just left with your dad, okay?"

"No. She didn't. Are you all mental" We hate our birth father. Judges couldn't order us to see him. He's a wack case who wants to experiment on us. There is no way ever Asphodel would go with him, and you guys all know it, but you are all standing here saying she did!" the boy burst out, his hands clenching, "And that cop is the only cop that's listened to us and is trying to find her."

"If that's true, then, why?" a girl frowned, "She's just an elf and human, right' All up on that grim halfbreed thing, lame, I mean, most of us are."

"She's a paladin," one of the other boys called as he stuck his head under the Surge dispenser and turned it on. He sucked down a few mouthfuls before speaking again. "She can't see glamour, either. She totally called out Franklyn's crappy Civic when he had it glammed up to look like a Lambo."

Halcyon idly watched as several more teens turned away from the Ironworks rave, hurrying to catch up with friends at the old mini golf joint. She leaned to Stupid's massive shoulder, pale gray eyes mild.

"Those who hold this rave shall not be pleased that you turn away these," Stupid remarked in a thunder of rumbling.

"I be not here to make anyone happy," she noted, finally drawing her brows together, "But I wonder, m'lad. A rave in an ironworks. That cannot be comfortable for the fae there."

"That may be the idea."