The Endless Night Rave - 12/21/17
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Even if a flier hadn?t been shoved in his hand by a passing stranger on the street, the pulsating flame of radiating immorality coming from the ironworks of Dockside would?ve drawn in the devil. Promises of an endless buffet of sins, he could feel the prickle of tipping morals, vices abused and the steady thrum of life from outside. He?d dropped the classy suits, exchanging it for a second skin of jeans, cotton and leather.
In order to leave his inhibitions at the door, that would require Ace to have inhibitions in the first place. Though once inside, he was able to abandon any reserve he otherwise held in public, purging himself of his multitude of masks worn through decades, centuries, millenia of false names and faces that were never his own.
Consumed by the Seven; a pinnacle of Pride himself, radiating confidence and the Mother of all sins with the eloquent finesse that boasted he was meant for it. Born from it. From his core, to the top of his head to the tip of his toes.
Stirring Envy of those in want or need of attention while pilfering or redirecting those they sought it from to others. He danced to the rhythm of his own war drum. At times almost too intimately to be considered casual, while he brushed off the advances of others.
He wallowed in the Gluttony of vices. Drugs, of his own making, was exchanged through the mouths of his dance partners, inciting the diabolical laughter soon after as their insatiable voracity amplified, turning them to ravenous creatures of the night. To feed and consume more, always more.
Drinks, sought in the name of the Green Goddess, set his mind free and those who dared to test his intemperance were granted just the same. Generous in the luxury of splurging, he invited anyone and everyone within his vicinity to indulge in the lust of life and inciting the true innovation the Green Fairy was meant for.
Sloth was the hindrance of those who?d overindulged. Those he?d pushed, enabled, persuaded, and convinced. Who had been sucked under his intoxicating influence and found themselves swept into the storm with no life jackets, staggering or too inebriated to stand at all. Pushed to the brink, reaping what they?d sewn of their sins painted in his smile, the dancing of Hellfire in his eyes that at times could be caught between the flashing of lights from the party.
The Endless Night was thriving with Lust; for life, for the desire of others, the brushing touch of writhing bodies and impaired inhibitions. It was in the way he moved, the looks he?d shared with those able to summon it from a devil himself. Through the undulating motions of hips and arms, he?d spotted another he knew. One who instilled and bred the sin with every movement, poured from her like silk and honey.
For a moment, he considered his own Greed. To pilfer one?s attention solely to himself, for a moment. A small sliver of time, giving in to selfish needs as he swept up behind her in the ploy of a stranger. Hands to hips, lips to an ear. ?I see you, I want you. I?ve watched you. They can keeping you for the night, but let me steal you for a moment.? Building up tension through the writhing of bodies to beats unknown, he?d promised Silver Tongue Persuasions and wild abandon for as long as she?d allowed him.
Returning from private rooms covered somehow in more sin than he?d come in with, he?d given the room back their muse. Intentionally, or unintentionally influencing Hellish courses of their own rights.
Finally, as the night dredged on and just when he thought he wouldn?t be complete.. There was but one final sin to enclose the circle: Wrath. He felt it like the pleasurable raking claws of malice, he saw it in the pulsating thrum of evil that brought the devil?s fire to his eyes, a baleful smile to his lips. One that might?ve been seen in passing to yet another familiar face he?d spotted. One glued to a man?s hip, and the nefarious Hellfire of smile and eyes likely didn?t put the man at ease to keep close to the woman. The one who received a promising wink. He?d be gone the moment they weren?t looking, lost in the sea of sins and bodies.
Whole. Complete. He was no prey, but a living radiation of influence. Should any of the Night Court attempt to feast on him, they?d be met with the corrupt, pure potency of the Seven if they could get past the sulfur in his veins. He wouldn?t stop them, but he could not be culled. He?d whisper his influence in their ears, enable them to their malice.
The Unseelie Court?s glamour held no effect to him, uninfluenced by their enthallments with the pure blood of the Fallen and Hell in his formless bones and marrow.
Yet, he did not hinder. He was no Hero. A subtle miscreant who watched, who participated with abandon, and when the first rays of Dawn broke across the horizon, he was engorged from the night?s consistent feeding.
Balance.
