a drink, a party, a disaster?

[Vivian Bruchella]

Vivian was in a good place. Clad in a fitted, strapless minidress that hugged curves centuries in the making and sparkled to attention by way of the light streaming from the circling globe high up on the club's ceiling, she was surrounded by attractive men and drinks galore. Her legs crossed casually and her strappy-heeled foot swinging idly, Vivian leaned an elbow against the mahogany bar.

"Another, please," she said languidly to the bartender.

She'd been here for a few hours, but things weren't picking up. Where was the party supposed to be? Not here, apparently, and for as long as she'd been waiting for it, she'd was becoming a slightly drunk Vamp.

The tender slid her another dirty cocktail, and Vivian accepted it with thanks, decidedly ignoring the group clustered at the bar. She took a sip, nabbing the stick with three olives on it out and pulling one out with her teeth, glancing around.

Ah, dancing.

Vivian nodded and smiled, and then slyly made her way around the drink-goers and toward the dance floor. She was about to head down the stairs, smoothing her skirt with one hand and gripping her cocktail in the other, when it hit her. Or, rather, him. She caught a glimpse of his shoes as she quite literally smacked her fabulous butt on the floor next to them..

[Natalia Rossi]

Natalia was mostly drunk she decided pointlessly. Everyone in here just smelled so damn good though she sighed, before laughing at the guy she had been dancing with, and was now talking with after he'd bought her a drink. He seemed appeased with this and continued to talk, she nodded her head, and tried to remember his name, but the baseline was calling her, and she swayed her hips a little. Mark? She sniffed again, no, the smell of sweat, sex, and sordid intentions was much more entrapping then a shifter with killer moves and a b-o-r-i-n-g personality. Matt? It smelt sweet and inviting, the close movements of bodies together, shifters, weres, vamps, even a fallen or two, made for an interesting smell. She licked her lips. Todd. That was it. She finished her double vodka and coke, ditching the glass on a nearby table. His eyes tracking her movement. Her tight form fitting dress and impressive heels making the most of her assets. Maybe it was Tim. Or Tom.

She turned to go dance with a pleasant smile and thank you, when someone going ass over tit knocked her back two staggered steps. That got her hackles up, bristling as people caught her and helped her get her balance she narrowed her carefully made up eyes. "Would it kill you to look where you are going?" She snarled out, eyes focused on the other woman, a vamp, pretty but had still sent her flying by banging into some guy. Not Todd/Tim/Tom, she noted. He seemed to have vanished. Thankfully.

[Vivian Bruchella]

"Would it kill you to look where you are going?"

Hard as it might be to look huffy in a minidress with your ass on the floor, Vivian managed it. She slid to her feet without managing to flash any near passerbyers, and with a grace only age could get you.

It appeared she had collided with more than a bumbling male brute. Apparently, she'd hit some bitch, too: pun intended.

"Hard to kill the undead," she said, feigning sincerity and not bothering to conceal a nasty snarl. She pressed her hands over her dress, smoothing it down and regaining her uppity, admonishing scowl. "Not that you would know anything about that, let alone manners, puppy."

She snagged a fresh vodka martini of a near waiter's tray, took a sip, rolled her eyes, and spun on her ridiculously expensive Blahnik heels to begin strutting away.

Bitch.

"Young ones and their lack of respect," she growled, annoyed.

[Natalia Rossi]

She rolled her eyes with a pitying sigh. "Don't worry, we could all tell your about a thousand years old by the dust that fell out you cleavage." She fluttered her eyelashes dumbly as the woman called her puppy. With a little laugh and a snotty look at the older woman. "I got plenty of manners, grandma, I just don't waste them on mannerless leeches."

She attempted to walk down the stairs to the dance floor, but found the same brute who'd sent the vamp flying grabbed a hold of her arm. And the hair on that guy? What did he shift into, a gorilla? "Get off me..." She growled shaking her arm out of his grip. "Who the hell do you think you are, knocking ladies" (She used the term loosely in her mind, as her current opinion of the vamp wasn't rating too high.) "flat on there ass, and then grabbing people they knocked over?" She glared at him, pushing him back from her. It was just going to be one of those nights she decided.