Sign My Boob

Sloane went. She listened, and saw. But that's all she needed to do. After the alpha was finished giving his speech that both frightened and disgusted Sloane, she decided to make like a banana and split, promptly running through the forest and back into the city. Now, after taking her motorcycle a few blocks from the 'two-natured agora' and finding a nice and secluded, albeit kind of gloomy, warehouse, she walks her bike up to the side of the building and uses her foot to bend the kick-stand down. Dressed in a black leather jacket and dark navy jeans, she blends well with the shadows, though the moon reflects off her shiny black hair when she steps away from her bike. She needs to think. After taking in so much from Eli, she's left with much to consider and a rather troubling problem that she can either actively work to solve, or turn away from entirely. Her boots kick against the ground as she meanders into the warehouse aimlessly, pretty green eyes cast to the ground as Sloane becomes engrossed in thought. She breaks her own concentration when she brings her cellphone out from her pocket, checking the digital clock on there. Her chest expands when she takes in a deep, long breath, exhaling in a sigh, "One AM."

The Warehouse is a night club that at times features live bands. One of those bands had to cancel a few weeks back due to a sudden illness in the lead singer. Now they've returned in order to make right with the ticket holders. No further explanations were offered as to the exact illness as it's one that she finds would be difficult to explain. After the show the club remains open and the band inside - all but one member, that is. Tala, otherwise known as Nicole Carter, has taken a break to do some searching of her own. It isn't nearly as deep as what Sloane is doing, but rather she's bored and annoyed with the limited options of one night stands. So the door opens and the woman steps outside, not bothering to check who else might be there. This is her playground.

It takes a moment for Sloane to notice that someone else has joined her in the section of pavement between The Warehouse and the actual warehouse. She continues to kick at the ground, unable to move much other than the pebbles and dirt on top of the cement as she leans against the side of the building. Hearing foot steps, she is once again brought out of her thoughtful, zoned-out place in her troubled mind and her eyes lift to regard the other woman. There is a moment of brief silence where Sloane's expression turns from uninterested, to considerate, to realization; she's seen Tala's band play once or twice and fondly remembers the music that was played. One might consider her a bit of a fan, though she somehow finds the willpower to restrain herself from bolting over, whipping out a pen, and pining for an autograph. "…. 'Sup?" she asks, brows coming together when that's all she can think of saying. "Band already done playing?"

There are many things that she can be doing right now and she damn near shifts right then and there. Fun is to be had. But then she hears something before she even reaches Sloane. It gives her that extra benefit of not making a complete fool of herself. The backpack she's toting is shifted slightly once she finally notices who is about. Perhaps this might isn't a complete wash. Tala licks her lips as she very openly looks Sloane over. "Hey there, sexy." There is a possibility that this is how Nicole greets everyone and she has been drinking. And playing. "Yeah, it was a short night. The manager still doesn't want me stressing too much. It got boring so I bolted." Cautiously she looks around, assessing if Sloane is alone. "Not a fan of the music?"

There's a pause from Sloane, and she cranes her head forward. Her brows loft incredulously at the greeting from Tala. One might assume that she'd expected the musician to speak differently, but in the end looks at least somewhat amused by Tala's diction. Pushing off the wall, she takes a few steps over to the other woman and stops but a mere few feet infront of her. She doesn't notice that she's being given a once-over, or, if she does, she doesn't give any hint of it. "Hi," is all she says in response, head tilting to the side. "On the contrary, I'm actually a big fan of music. Especially yours. I wasn't in there tonight… I just was wandering around. Have a lot to think about," she mutters, brows coming together slightly. "You all right? Lookin' kind of tipsy," Sloane mentions, stifling a laugh or two.

She's a human just like everyone else, and one who is highly motivated by all things that others should not be. Her PR rep surely portrays her in a different light than but that is his job and she quite frankly hates it. The smile offered to Sloane is not happy or even welcoming; it borders on animalistic. "A fan? I do enjoy meeting those." Again she licks at her lips as she lowers her bag to search for something. Eventually she removes a sharpie and grins. "Would you like me to sign you, err, something?" There is nothing wrong with some harmless flirting, especially if it can lead to more. That is the Tala philosophy. "I'm feeling great. The question is how are /you/ feeling? I can get you something to drink if you would like." A pause is inserted here as she imagines actually getting something. "It might help you think. Or, if you'd like, I can try to pull you from your thoughts."

"Oh…" Sloane murmurs under her breath accidentally as she's smiled so… devilishly at. She's prone to giving the same sort of looks to other people, but has never received one, especially not from a shifter, to whom the animal magnetism makes her step closer towards. "Don't worry. I'm not obsessed or anything. Appreciative is more like it," she says, before laughing once more when the sharpie is taken out, though this time her snickers are unusually coy at best. "I don't really have anything for you to sign," Sloane says, glancing down at herself in consideration. With an eye-roll, as though she can't believe she's doing it, Sloane pulls down the collar of her shirt, which is thankfully rather stretchy, until it reveals the top of her bosom where her bra starts. Typical place for a female fan to be signed. "You know, I've been better. I just feel like there are… a lot of rules in my life," she sighs to Tala, face falling again. At the offer to get a drink, however, her eyes seem to brighten. "Sure. I doubt it'd help me think, but it'll be fun."

It should amaze her at how easily this works but she's done it so many times. There's a glint to her eye as she focuses on the exposed skin. The top of the sharpie is popped off. "It's not something you can keep but that just means you'll have to come back for more." Without further hesitation she signs the presented flesh, but is actually thoughtful enough for the moment not to do anything inappropriate. "Rules are meant to be broken. I'm not trying to lecture you or cause you to go against your ways." Liar. Tala will be very happy to corrupt anyone, especially Sloane. Especially with the help of animal magnetism. "I just live by my own rules. We're here for a reason so why be limited to what people try to tell you to do?" Oh, but what is this? "Wait here. I'll be right back with something." With that Tala turns to walk back to the club. If not stopped she'll return quickly enough with a bag full of beer and malted drinks.

"Can just scan it when I get home," Sloane jests to the other woman, snickering lightly when she feels the marker's tip run over her skin. It tickles, but she suppresses those giggles as well. Once the signature has been written, Sloane tilts her head down to observe the ink and smiles to herself, releasing her shirt so that it covers her uppermost chest area once more. "Sure they are, but it sucks when you get caught," she replies to Tala, letting her head loll off to the side after shaking it. Her lips draw into a slight pucker as she considers Tala; considers the magnetism, more precisely, and habitually inhales from the air around the singer. Without her wolf form, she's unable to detect a defining scent, so Nicole's species is left up to later discussion to determine. "I suppose you're right… but you probably don't have overbearing parents, or a very… intimidating 'boss' to worry about." That 'boss' being Eli, even though she's not part of the pack. She takes up her place back against the wall when Tala walks off to fetch the booze, returning to where her bike is parked near the mouth of the alley way they share and sitting against it. Patiently, she waits for the other to return, rubbing her forearms where the goosebumps have appeared, despite her body's unnaturally warm temperature. "That's… a lot," she says, upon Tala's return with the drinks.

The drinks are placed on the ground, kept cold by the small cooler that she's loaded them into. "Well, what can I say? They like to keep me well supplied because I bring in customers." That said, she reaches for a beer, pops it open and takes a sip. "Don't feel like you have to drink or anything, but it is lonely drinking alone." Just because she's gone and returned doesn't mean that the shameless flirting will stop. Tala sniffs at the air as well, not obviously but enough for her. She's gotten a good feel for when things are slightly off and this is one of those feelings. It could be that she's tipsy but she'll have to find out more about Sloane later - or avoid her completely. "My parents? They're pretty anal. All talking about how it's important that I try to settle down with one specific person and how they want me to help expand the family, or whatever. And this group I'm with fell under new management and now things are all in an uproar. But you know, pretty thing, you have got to do what you want to do. Don't conform." There's a pause as Tala smiles, deliberately, in case her suspicions are correct. "We could always start our own group of rebels. No rules and no obligations."

"That much booze could kill a horse." Or a wolf, in their case. Blinking, she replies, "Don't get me wrong - I'm totally drinking. I've had a rough night… least I can do for myself is do something reckless and drink with a stranger." Sloane lets out an amazed whistle as the cooler is set down and she's able to estimate how much is in that thing. Bending down, she pulls out a bottle of beer and snaps the cap right off using the metal edge of the light on her motorcycle. The flirting seems to fly right over Sloane's head, which indicates she's not exposed to it much, though that's not to say that she's uninterested. A combination of that weird shifter to werewolf attraction and poor judgement keeps her by Tala's side. "My parents are anal too," Sloane tells the other woman, rolling her eyes as she mentions them and then takes a generous drink from the bottle. "They're /gay/." Hence anal. Then, Sloane looks to Tala and quirks her brow. "You keep calling me stuff like that," she mentions, as though confused about it. Talk of starting up a rebel group leads to further confusion, though only because Sloane lacks context; she can't tell if Tala is talking about supernaturals, or more human based affairs. "I… I dunno," she shrugs, drinking again. "My name's Sloane, by the way. Ignore what the collar says." To indicate what she means, she tugs at the leather collar around her throat with the dogtag hanging off it. Contradicting what Sloane said, the tag reads as 'Molly'.

Loud laughter comes from the singer. "You're not drinking with a stranger, at least not a total one. You know who I am even if you don't know me." Still she finds a nice wall and leans against it, keeping her hands very much to herself for now. Things aren't as much fun when her prey is unreceptive but she's not giving up on it just yet. Alcohol is a wonderful tool. "Oh." She blinks. "Oh. Well, does that bother you? I mean, someone being gay?" Now Sloane has her full attention as she awaits the answer. It could change everything. "I'm just about rebelling, against everything. No way that an arranged marriage is happening and I'm sure as hell not having kids just to keep a bloodline alive." It could just be a family thing. Tala doesn't mind if Sloane does figure out that truth because at this point she still believes that she is untouchable. "Tala. Well, you knew that." A hand is offered in formal introduction. "Nice collar, Sloane."

"That's true, though a lot of people would argue that this is still pretty stupid of me," Sloane admits, swirling the contents of her beer bottle around after taking several more swigs from it. "I don't care though. I trust you, mostly," she says, shrugging nonchalantly at the other woman. Leaning more heavily against her motorcycle and the wall it's propped up against, she casts Tala a sidelong glance. "Not really," the girl says, and her face turns ponderous, yet concerned. "I've always been… curious about it," Sloane says carefully, draining more and more of the beer. After a few minutes, the thing is emptied completely. "I grew up in an environment where… on one side, my parents were telling me to be whoever I want, but on the opposite side, I was always made fun of because I had two dads. I just don't know." It's hard to tell why she's being so readily honest when she's typically be more cautious about explaining her past. Perhaps she doesn't expect to be judged by Tala like others would. "But right now, my parents don't know a thing about me…" Not about her sexuality, and certainly not about her werewolfism. The empty bottle is put on the ground and she takes another one without asking. "Thanks," she says, while accepting the handshake. Her palm is alarmingly, feverishly hot. It's a clear give away, if Tala knows the signs. "It's nice to finally meet you."

She has to laugh yet again. "Well, look at it this way? If anything does happen then you actually know who you're drinking with. I can't hide behind a false name or anything. I'm already well known." That shouldn't be comforting but it is a fact. This is why Tala keeps her secret very well hidden, all things considered. Most of her drink is drained as she listens to Sloane's story, just nodding at certain points. "Well, what are you curious about?" At this point she's actually not going out of her way to flirt. The conversation is at least mildly real. "I don't know what it's like to grow up like that, but I can explain the lifestyle perhaps?" Yes, she is admitting to her sexual preference. Once empty, the bottle of beer is chucked out to the side and crashes to the ground with the sound that is always known as glass breaking. Thanks to her dealings not only with Kegan but the Austin pack Tala knows quite a bit about warning signs. Instead of feeling guilty, this only encourages her to keep Sloane on her good side. "Yeah, it's cool to meet such a down to earth fan. The fact that you're hot doesn't hurt, either."

At first, Sloane is rather somber in contrast to Tala's laughing. She looks to the side, watching the woman smile and chuckle, before her heart is lifted purely by osmosis and she joins in the laughter. "For all I know, you could be some crazy serial killer who uses her musical talents to lure unsuspecting victims in," she kids, this time opening the bottle of beer with her barehands, though she experiences more difficulty with the cap than before when she used the light. Her smile falters and is replaced with another considerate expression, eyes boring holes into the ground. "Just… what it's like. When you're with someone and you can wake up and borrow her shirts and they'll fit you, or do each other's hair and nails together. Feel fingers that match yours when you're holding hands," Sloane says wistfully, tilting her head up to gaze into the night sky, where stars suffocate behind polluted air and the moon barely peeks out from the clouds. Realizing that she's perhaps gone too much into detail, Sloane falls back to silence, awkwardly standing there. To give herself something to do, she drinks from the beer bottle again, as though she'd just run a marathon. Best to forget that little ramble. "… Sorry," she murmurs, startling when the glass is broken. "I'm not very down to earth." To Tala's comment about her appearance, she flashes the woman a narrow, sidelong glance, smile forcing its way on to her lips.

The laugher and delight actually fade somewhat at the apparent jest. "Serial killer? No. Serial one night stand-er, perhaps. What can I say? Chicks dig famous people." Her agent is going to cry with the fact that she's open about her relationships but that never stops her. The beer is drained and discarded in the same fashion as the last. "What's it like? Well, that's difficult because I don't have one person to do that with. Most people I bring home realize that they were acting on poor decisions and just leave." Tala is lying at this point all except knowing what a relationship is like. "I imagine it would be a great thing to have someone around that just understands it all. No pesky questions about why you feel a certain way or do a particular thing. Plus you can mix and match clothes and that's always an added benefit." Another drink is picked up but she doesn't open it. "I don't mind you asking questions, you know. Girl, you just shook my hand. How did my fingers feel then?" The hand is held back out to her in case she wants to find out. "Go ahead and try it. I'm not asking for anything more than you touching my hand and who knows? You might like it."

Tala's response just makes Sloane's brows come together. The singer's statements are both repulsive to her and impressive. Repulsive because of her slightly naive perception on how a relationship should be, and impressive because… she suspects there've been a lot of these one night stands. "Guess they do…" Sloane says, trailing off somewhat, looking down at her shoes and appearing to be… disappointed, for some reason. Her releases a sigh through her lips, making a brief, quiet whooshing sound. "None of them give you a chance?" she asks, looking to Nicole again and casting her an apologetic glance that quickly turns in to a confused one as the hand is offered. "But I suppose, somehow, you could find a lot of the same perks in a man as well," she tells Tala, still staring over at the hand that is given out, biting at the inside of her cheek uneasily. Sloane picks herself up from her slouched against the motorcycle, moving the distance between her and Tala with slow steps. Tala's hand is taken awkwardly, Sloane's fingers intertwining with the other woman's before their palms meet. She doesn't say a thing, but prefers to drink from her bottle instead, discarding it deeper into the alley after it's been finished.

It is repulsive but that is the life she chooses to lead. At least she's being somewhat honest about it. Throughout all of this Tala appears fine, not at all bothered. The fact is that she's found one of her own, more or less, and that is information she plans on using at another time. "No, not really. I'm sure that it should be expected since I am who I am, but it does make my ideas about relationships rather jaded. So I guess I'm not the best person to ask about that sort of thing." Tala gently squeezes Sloane's hand as their fingers intertwine. She doesn't press forward, not just yet. It is important to her to keep this from turning south just yet. Sloane can be useful. "You know, I probably could. But they just don't seem to understand what it's like, being a woman. Besides, I happen to find women extremely attractive. I don't think that it's wrong to desire to be with someone that you're attracted to. It may sound shallow but if I settle down, I don't want be bored or look to someone else." Her eyes venture down to the interlocked hands before looking back to Sloane. "The way I see it, if you're curious you can always try things and find out how you like them. I'm not saying to do so now, or with me, just that you should keep your options open."

Over all, Tala's lifestyle ends up being the better one over Sloane's. Unlike Tala, Sloane lives a lie, one that is close to being broken by the fact that they're holding hands, or that she even expressed curiosity towards the subject in the first place. Apparently, in Sloane's messed up head, it is better to put forth a veneer of relative normalcy than to be yourself and be judged. "Oh well," she says, as she leans down to pick up her third bottle of beer from the cooler, then she rests her back against the wall beside Tala. All the while, she's still holding Tala's hand, but the tightness with which she does so is light; shy. "I like that you're honest. And anyway, you make me feel a bit better," Sloane breathes, biting off the bottle cap then making a face when she finds that, not only did that hurt, but the metal doesn't taste very good. "No, I understand. I guess I'm the same way. We're biologically programmed to want to be with the people we think have the best genes. Not that reproduction has anything to do with that type of relationship," she says, pressing the cold bottle against her hot cheek, which has become flushed since she began drinking as the effects start appearing. With a lazy snicker, Sloane sways both of their arms back and forth, still gripping Tala's hand. "My parents tell me the same thing," she says. "Sounds a lot different coming from you. From someone else."

She lives a lie each and every day, but only the lies that have been created for her. Past that the woman does as she pleases and isn't afraid to instill such behavior in others. "I'm glad that I can help, even if just a little." No matter how high the temptation is to act more like herself Tala resists, knowing that she will be all the better for it. Besides, this one might fight back if she's too forward. Sloane's grasp might be loose but unless she actively attempts to pull away the digits will remain interlocked by Tala's doing. Her third beer is carefully slid back down, still unopened at this moment. "You can't fight how you feel, even if it does supposedly go against nature. Yet you're here, right before me. Obviously this is who you're supposed to be so why fight at all?" Her eyes glint again as she faces Sloane dead on, her free hand attempting to reach for the other woman's shoulder. "Parents have certain motivations and reasons for saying such things. Hell, I do, too, but it's different. In the end what matters is that you're happy. I personally have no regrets and it's a lifestyle that I would recommend." The no regrets part.

Sloane purses her lips over the opening of the beer bottle, blowing so that the air whisping past the glass creates a horn-like noise. She does this twice while considering Tala's words, then lowers the bottle again when she's taken a drink from it. Her fingers don't release, in fact they tighten as Sloane becomes more confident and less self-conscious with each drink she takes. "Yes you can," Sloane stupidly protests. "I've done it before," she says, though it can be argued that the feelings she had banished at the time were not the same as the ones Tala's refering to. Raising her chin and resting her head back against the brick wall they're beside, she comes to the conclusion that it's futile to reason with Tala when she's clearly right. Feeling, especially when they're magnified by two-natured attraction, can't be fully avoided without some sort of closure. When she's faced squarely by Tala, Sloane's eyes pop open, owlishly. Her face flushes and even more prominent red, blood pumped swiftly from her rapidly beating heart. "… I still need to figure out what makes me happy," she says, then looks down at their joined hands. She grazes her thumb over Tala's knuckles gently. "Or who makes me happy," she whispers, bold enough to lean in and kiss Tala on the cheek. She lets her face linger there long enough to uncertainly ask, "Can… I get your number?" before pulling away and releasing Tala's hand, sporting a mortified expression.

It could very well be that Tala is referring to more than just a physical relationship with someone of the same sex. This particular shifter is exceedingly proud of who and what she is and will encourage anyone to be the same way. Even though this is true, she still believes herself superior. This could be part of the beginning of her finally fleeing from the Austin pack, however. From Kegan whom she still believes to be alive at the moment. "Well, you can, but you shouldn't. You, Sloane, are better than that. Who you are, you're better than that. At least give yourself time to possible see what you might be running from?" Before the lecture can continue, Tala finds the lips of the other planted on her cheek if only for a moment. She blinks at first but then smiles. It is the unmistakable magnetism of the beasts and she for one is not going to deny it. Reaching for her bag she removes a promotional card with the band's basic info. The same sharpie is used to sprawl out a series of numbers. Instead of just handing it over to Sloane, however, she holds it up just enough to be seen. "On one condition." That condition is made clear when Tala moves forward, attempting to place the faintest of kisses on the lips of Sloane. Regardless of the outcome she'll hand over her number willingly.

"Tell that to everyone else," Sloane retorts with a bit of a huff, frustrated by what Tala says and the fact that it's true. What her parents tell her is similar, but Tala's is uncensored and harsh, and also from a point of view that Sloane can identify with. That is, another girl, and not a happily married gay couple who are so optimistic about love that they're naive. "What this boils down to is… that life sucks," she mutters under her breath cynically, sourly scrunching her nose up and squinting her eyes. "For me, at least," Sloane amends, taking one last draw from the beer bottle, swallowing and putting the empty glass against The Warehouse's wall. That card appears before her, and she reaches forward to take it when instead of fingers meeting paper, lips meet lips. Fear and pleasure wash over her, creating a disorienting mixture that brings Sloane to raise a hand to slap Tala clean across the cheek, ironically where she'd just kissed her. It's an impulse (not that it was all that hard; in fact rather sloppy considering her blood alcohol level), and probably not really intended, but it gives Sloane the chance to escape. Before fleeing, despite the smack, she takes the card then mounts her motorcycle, engine ripping to life.

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