Well, here he was again. Giving the Red Dragon another try, maybe. The first time hadn't gone very well. Too many bad memories. Well, perhaps only one bad memory, but it was a big one. Once again, he paused after going up the stairs, looking in through the window. Just as many people in there as there had been the night before. He crossed to the swing, standing over it, trying to decide what to do. He didn't like the idea of being surrounded by so many people. It was a nice night, slightly cool, but that didn't bother him any. Lycans ran hotter than humans. Staying outside, where it was quieter and probably safer sounded better to him than going into the crowded, bustling place. He settled into the swing, looking out into the street.

Grey eyes watched unblinkingly as people passed on the street. None of them paid any attention to him whatsoever. That didn't mean he was about to relax any, though. It was kind of nice to be back in RhyDin, though. He could be himself a lot more easily here. Not that he was quite sure what himself was anymore. He turned his head, looking through the window again. There was a face or two he recognized inside. Not friends, no. Not even acquaintances. But faces he'd seen before.

Lelah strutted down the street from the New Haven loft as if the rough cobblestones were a catwalk and she were wrapped in Versace's newest creation. Except that last part was true - she was wrapped in Versace, a complicated dress in Mediterranean blue, Sahara tan, and coal black that clung to every curve of her body, leaving her shoulders and most of her legs bare to the kiss of the night air. Minimal makeup tonight, minimal jewelry, hair pulled back into a simple pony tail, the focus was on the dress, which had been picked for his enjoyment, damn him anyway. But since he'd stood her up and then had the temerity to fling insults at her, he lost out on the opportunity to appreciate the dress...and perhaps more importantly, her in it. She headed up the Inn's porch steps, bound and determined to find someone else who could appreciate a Versace properly.

The staccato clack of stiletto heels caught his attention. Head snapped around quickly, spotting the source of the noise immediately. Grey eyes widened as they took in the gorgeous vision approaching. There should have been a film crew following her, photographers climbing all over each other to capture her every expression. He stared, eyes still slightly wide, as the vision came up the stairs. No, strutted up those stairs, with a pride worthy of any feline. Leopard sat up and took notice, then, a faint purr rumbling deep in his chest. Leopard liked women who didn't hide themselves away.

She knew he was staring and turned ever so slowly to face him, a coquettish smile on perfect lips. She tilted her head to the side, let her dark, kohl-lined eyes move over his body boldly, head to toe and then back again before coming to rest on his eyes. They were grey, an unusual and arresting shade of grey, like a big cat she'd seen in the zoo in San Diego.

He met her gaze without any hint of embarrassment at being caught staring. He knew women like that wanted to be noticed, to be looked at. One corner of his mouth curled up just a bit. Leopard approved some more.

A pirate swaggered up the stairs to the inn, singing some naughty song whose lyrics would peel the paint off a battleship. Never missing a beat as he passed Lelah, he gave her a slap on the butt and a low whistle. "Oh, nice an' firm."

She jumped and swatted at the hand that had just groped her. If he had wrinkled the Versace, he'd be soon find himself without an arm. "Rude much?" she called out after him, New York City heavy in the accent...and the attitude.

A shrug as the pirate opened the door to the inn. "A good friggin' in the riggin' would get yer knickers outta tha' wad." And he blew her a kiss before heading on in.

She shot the wanna-be pirate the universal sign indicating he should go get stuffed and then glanced back at the grey-eyed man and gave him a lopsided smile. "Hi, there," she said and went to lean against the porch railing, protecting her ...um... assets, as it were. Digging in her bag, she produced a pack of Gitane blondes and a plain silver Zippo. She shook out a smoke and asked, "Do you mind?"

Some things about this place never changed, clearly. She'd handled it well, though. No girly squealing. You could tell a lot about a person by how they reacted to unexpected events. "Good evening, " he replied, Oxford-and-India accented voice soft, with only a thread of the ever-present growl in it. He shrugged fluidly at her question. "Go ahead." He used to hate the smell of cigarette smoke, but since so many of the rebels smoked, he'd gotten quite used to it.

She smiled her thanks and then lit the cigarette, holding it between pursed, lush lips, before dropping the pack and the Zippo back into her bag. Then she exhaled, sending a cloud of smoke up into the air above her head, where it writhed and danced like a living being. "Waiting for someone?" she asked and settled into a comfortable lean, extending her legs and crossing them at the ankles.

"No, I'm alone." He leaned forward slightly, moving his face into the light. Humans liked to be able to see the people they were talking to, and she was all human, his nose said. "How about you?"

She shook her head, exhaling another cloud of smoke. "Not anymore." Her eyes moved carefully over his face, the scar that lurked beneath his eye. There was a story there and she felt the familiar itching in her fingers for the feel of a keyboard or a pen so she could record it. "I'm Lelah," she said and extended her hand to him.

He stood, one easy and graceful motion, and took her hand. Her skin felt cool on his, though no doubt he felt quite warm to her. Lycans ran hot, and being this close to such a lovely woman just added to that heat. "Daniel. Pleased to meet you, Lelah." Leopard wanted to rub his cheek on her hand, but he resisted. He had no idea if she even knew about Lycans. That behavior might scare her.

She made a soft sound at the roughness of his hands - clearly a working man, this one - and the feverish heat of his skin. "Daniel," she said with a purr of her own. "It's nice to meet you, too. Buy you a drink?" She stubbed out the smoke and then flicked the butt out into the street behind her.

Maybe this was what he needed. A little normalcy. Have a drink with a very pretty woman. Act like a person for a while. "That sounds lovely," he said quietly.

Flashing him her trademark brilliant smile, she went to the door and waited for him. She noted that in her five-inch heels, she was pretty much the same height as him. Maybe she should have worn shorter heels.

Taller women didn't bother him any. Riley topped him by a couple inches even without heels. He wondered if Lelah had the same anti-chivalry habit. Easy way to test that. He went to the door and pulled it open for her. "After you," he said politely.

He shook his head slightly, trying in vain not to let his eyes stray to the decolletage of that very form-fitting dress. He didn't blush; he was too much a Cat to be embarrassed by that, but he did have trouble forming words for a moment. "I...don't really have a job." And he didn't, here or back home. Freedom fighters didn't exactly pick up a paycheck.

"Oh," she said very carefully, very neutrally. His stock just slipped a bit. Her burgeoning ardor cooled a touch. She sat back, recrossing her legs, tugging again at the hem of that skirt. "Well...what did you do before?" Maybe he was just between jobs because he'd just arrived here. That was reasonable, right? No need to worry that he was a leech and looking for a sugar momma to take care of him, right? He wasn't going to be a repeat of Miles.

"I owned a restaurant when I lived here." Again, he very carefully didn't mention what he'd been doing between now and then. Even though she was obviously a little put off by his apparent unemployment, he wasn't sure that telling her that he'd spent the last three years fighting in a civil war was a good idea.

Oh, that had her on the hook again. "Really?" She leaned forward again. "What kind of cuisine? Were you the chef or did you just own it?"

"Indian cuisine. Oh, chef, too. I love to cook." It was one of the few pleasures he'd been able to hang onto, even in the worst of times, and his tone showed it. "You might have heard of it...it's still in business. The Bodhi Tree, at Zen Gardens."

"Oh, I've heard of the building. The Los own it, don't they? Riley and David. Nice couple. She's going to be in my film. I've never been into the Bodhi Tree, though. I'll have to check it out. Do you still own it?"

Riley was going to be in a movie? And..."Your film?" Then he shook his head. "No...I gave it away when I left."

She made a sad face at hearing that news. The sad face didn't last, though. When he asked about her film, she lit up like a marquee. "Yes, the first one ever to be produced and filmed entirely in RhyDin."

"Really?" It was his turn to lean forward, now. "That's impressive. You look very young to be making your own movies." She did look young, and he knew women liked to hear that sort of thing. "Tell me about it?" It was obvious she was very proud of the movie.

She chuckled softly at his compliment and shrugged. "I've been an actress since I was 4. It's not what I've always wanted to do, though. I did always want to write and direct, so with this film, I get to do both." She sipped more wine and then tilted her head to the side a bit. She'd been keeping the film's plot under strict control, not wanting to allow people to make up their minds before they actually saw it. "Well," she said thoughtfully. "It's about vampires." That was enough.

"Vampires," he repeated. "Not my favorite people." Leopard snarled inside at the thought of the leeches, but he kept it off of his face. No sense scaring her.

She waved her hand airily. "Oh, they're just fictional ones. I mean, no one actually likes vampires, right?"

"Not many, no. Are you worried someone here might be offended?" He was assuming she was well aware that real vampires lived in this city.

She blinked at him in stunned surprise. "Offend who? Twilight fans? I'm pretty sure there aren't any of those here."

Even fighting in rebellions in Burma, he'd heard of Twilight. Go figure. But the way she reacted... He tilted his head at her, exactly like a cat seeing something curious. Could she really not know. "You know not everyone living in RhyDin is human, don't you?"

"Oh, sure," she responded. "There's magicians and...um...well, whatever Riley Lo is and I've seen dragons and an odd creature made from shadows and wait a minute..." Lee might be a bit of a ditz, but she really wasn't stupid. She could put two and two together and come up with four, five out of five times. "Vampires, you mean. You're worried I'm going to offend vampires." She looked shell shocked for a moment as she considered this.

Whatever Riley Lo was. He thought back, remembering a little fortune-teller who'd reacted so very badly when she'd learned what he and Riley both were. He wondered if she was still around. "Yes, that's what I meant."