Make the Most of It


evan_icon.gif nadira_icon.gif

Scene Title Make the Most of It
Synopsis If your time might be limited…
Date July 30, 2010


The pulsing beat of bass throbs through the walls of Rapture, a high-class nightclub in the heart of Harlem. Rows of expensive cars line up out front of the exclusive club and a crowd of would-be patrons wait outside, cherry-picked by the bouncers to have only the cream of the crop on the interior, while leaving just enough eye-candy outside to entice other patrons. The club serves as a respite for the trendy and the influential from the grind of daily life.

On the inside, Rapture is as much a spectacle as it is a structure. Multiple dance floors in tiered balconies overlooking an enormous central dance floor ringed by plush leather-upholstered booths. Pale blue light shines on the wrap-around bar that curved around the back of the establishment, and the entire building is filled floor-to-floor and shoulder-to-shoulder with the pulsing, flowing sea of people dancing to the rythmic beats of electronic dance music piped through the expansive sound-system.

Most of the people living it up at the Rapture tonight are too young to remember the saying 'it is better to look good than to feel good', except maybe in reruns. Despite that, they've taken the sentiment to heart, ignoring the lingering summer heat and cleaving to an unspoken dress code of black and dark red.

Evan hovers on the edge of this crowd, both physically and figuratively. Dressed in a navy blue polo shirt and dark jeans, he watches the nearest stretch of dance floor from the comfort of a couch near the bar. A tall, thin glass sits near his elbow, empty except for a few remaining dregs of ice.

In a pale blue dress that clings to her form, Nadira does not seem to have gotten the memo about the 'dress code', so to speak. Making her way in, her gaze sweeps around the room at those dancing before she slowly makes her way to the bar, a drink order already in mind.

It'd be easy to overlook Evan in the crowd, even with him sitting as close as he is - but with an outfit like that, he's in no danger of missing her. "And here I thought I wouldn't be seeing that color again till morning," he offers, just as she's about to pass by.

"It's a lovely shade," Nadira agrees, peering over towards Evan with a soft smile. "Blue's my color, I think." She nods to the bartender and murmurs a drink order before she makes her way into the seat next to him. "Fancy running into you again."

Evan nods his agreement, scooting over to make room (but not too much). "Looks good on you. So what brings you out here tonight? I'm kind of stuck, myself, they're still repairing my roof." He gestures toward the entrance, seeming to indicate one of the buildings not far beyond.

Nadira shrugs a little. "Thought I'd get out on the town and see if I could find something interesting to do. No work tonight, so I can't complain. But it's not quite as lively other places, so I just happened to be over here so I thought I'd drop by and get a drink, at least."

"Reminds me of Club Hel," Evan muses. "Good place to come and dance, if you like that sort of thing— and you haven't crossed the owner." Whoever that is; he has no idea, himself. "What do you do for a living, anyway? Besides acting as a good luck charm."

There's a wide grin. "I'm a bartender. I work over at Tartarus, if you ever happen to stop by over there. It's not bad… I chose it, really, out of most clubs. Had a good feel to me. People are certainly interesting there." Nadira looks back over. "What about you?"

Evan makes a mental note of the name. Tartarus - something else out of ancient myth and legend - could be pattern, could just be coincidence. "I'm a teacher," he answers, "over at Columbia. Mathematics." A far cry indeed from the stereotypical party crowd.

"A scholar, then? Nice to see that even college professors get out and have fun. It's a noble occupation. Could never do a job like that, personally, so I don't envy you, but it's still very noble." Nadira states.

"Thank you, I try," replies Evan, running a fingertip along the edge of his empty glass - momentarily lost in thought, before he decides how much to share with her up front. "Not sure how long I'll be able to hang on to the position— I'm having to play it by ear for the next few months."

"Jobs are tough. Fickle things, I'd say. Hold onto it while you can. But you know, circumstances can always change. Something else might pop up that's more interesting." Nadira accepts her glass from the bartender, sipping from it lightly.

Evan shakes his head. "It's not the job itself that I'm worried about…" How to approach this? He doesn't know that much about her; their previous encounter, for all its eventual intensity, only lasted so long. "I assume you've heard about the— visions that a number of people had, about a month and a half ago?"

Nadira turns serious, giving a nod before a light sip of her drink. "Of course. There's plenty of people who had them. I was lucky to be out of the city at the time, so… what is it you saw?" She questions, carefully.

A frown creases Evan's brow as he leans back in his seat. "Nothing. I saw— I sensed an absence of any sort of sense. Could be some type of signal block, or simply unconsciousness. Or—" He doesn't finish the sentence, but his face pales as he thinks back anew on the experience.

"Ah." Nadira frowns, then offers him a small nod. "I think it'll be fine. Perhaps there was just nothing for you to have seen… it doesn't mean, well, that anything happens to you. I wouldn't worry too much if I were you." She sips from her drink.

Evan shakes his head. "If only it was that simple. You know what's happened since then?" He leans closer, eyes fixed on hers. "I've been shot. And I've come within about twenty feet of getting cut in half. I don't think that future is necessarily set in stone, but the last thing I intend to do is just sit around and find out."

Nadira doesn't seem to find that too surprising, or at least, she takes it all in stride as she sips her drink. She pauses, setting it back on the bar and watching the small ring of condensation beneath it from the cool beverage. "Well, are you thinking then that you should do something with your life, or that you should do something to prevent your potential demise?"

"Well, both, obviously." There was a reason why he was drawn to her that night - and why he's drawn again tonight. Small talk is easy to find. "But I've been stuck working on my own, so far— I ran into someone who seemed to understand more of the big picture, but even he was still working on putting the pieces together."

"Life is full of surprises. Regardless of a vision or dream or blackout… your life may end the day before, for all you know. This, at least, gives you perspective. Figuring it out may be more difficult. The causes are unknown and I certainly can say that resources to figure out the cause and eventual outcome of these things are probably a bit hard to come by." Nadira trails her finger along the rim of the glass. "The point is… if you can't figure it out, at least, prepare yourself for what you can and take the opportunity to appreciate what you have… such as a fulfilling job. Assuming it is such, after all."

Evan nods. "I've been doing that. My own area of study will take at least a couple more years to lead anywhere directly useful… but the path to get there is worth pursuing for its own sake." He doesn't mention anything about more personal matters - though she could probably offer a fair guess.

Nadira leans against the bar, studying him for a long moment. "It's a hard thing, living thinking that you know your death is coming soon." There's just enough of a tone that seems to speak on familiarity, though that could just be sympathy more than anything. "You make the most of it and you realize what's important to you. You don't have to waste your time. I don't do anything I don't think is worth my time." She smiles lightly.

"I noticed," he murmurs - then, leaving the glass where it is, he rises to his feet, offering a hand to Nadira. "Come to think of it—" A glance serves to indicate the dance floor nearby. Evidently he's had his fill of spectating for a while…

Nadira gently takes the offered hand, her gaze flickering to the dance floor with an appraising glance, as if she were trying to assess if the crowd was acceptable or not. Her gaze returns to Evan, a bit more warmly as she lets him lead the way.

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