Portia

Porita entered the lite up club. Her red contacts caught the light and seemed to glow. She walked along the side lines. She had come here out of curiosity not because of dancing. She softly moved her hips with the music. She wore her red contacts, a blonde wig and her usual Gothic out fit. Her lips were bright blood red and she had black eye shadow. She wasn't much of a dancer. Infact she tried not to dance. She walked over to a table on the out skirts and sat down she perfered to keep to her self.

Damian Novokov

Damian had no reason to be here. What he really wanted to be doing was chasing down his son and that pretty girl he was with. But not while Konstantin was protecting them. He didn't dare go near that guy. He was with the Spetnaz. Damn him and his shovel-throwing head-chopping neck-snapping skills.

So he was going to bring Dimitri and Hunter here. What better way than to make a mess that Dimitri would have to clean up? He came with every intent to throw a vial of Kolokol-1 on the ground to knock everybody out while he took what he wanted. But that's when he saw the girl with the blonde hair. His daughter had blonde hair. His wife did too, but he killed her a long time ago.

Damian, wearing a long, black military trenchcoat and combat boots, shoved through the crowd of people and stopped several yards from Portia. "There was a time I hid in the shadows." That was all he said. His gaze was so cold, so icy. His voice suggested that he was up to something. He was.

Portia

Portia blinked and looked up at who ever had talked to her. "I find the shadows more comferting..." She said her eyes staring right into his. She was very pretty and was almost always left alone. Guys almost never had guts to speak to her. Expecialy when she was in her goth out fit. She looked back. He sounded like he was up to some thing, but what? She stared at him daring him to talk to her once more.

Damian Novokov

Damian grinned with a face that a shark would flee from. "We are the same in that respect..." The Russian man said, his voice trailing off as he pulled a knife out of his pocket. It was recently used to slash at his son's face, though most of the blood had been cleaned off. He looked at his reflection in the knife, then stared at Portia. "I spend my time in the shadows too."

Portia

Portia watched him pull out a knife. She suddenly felt very uncomfortable and reached for the knife she had shoved in her boot. "Hm..." She watched him her eyes continued to glow in the bright flashing lights that filled the club. She wasn't sure what he was going to do with it but he didn't want to take the chance to end up unarmed. "I guess you could say that" She continued to sit, if he pulled any thing silly she would have to religh on her gymnastic training. She laughed some what nurvously and put her other hand to the gun tucked in her other boot. She was ready for any thing.

Damian Novokov

Damian grabbed the AK-47 that hung over his shoulder. "I think I have the upper hand if you're thinking of fighting back." That was what made it clear as a bell that he was going to attack. He didn't use the AK-47, though. He pulled a pistol from his belt with great speed and suddenly fired at Portia. Not to kill, no. He aimed for her arm, trying to leave his mark. "If you see Dimitri, tell him I said I haven't given up." With that, he walked away.

Portia

Portia screamed and fell to the floor. Why did he pull out the knife to warn me? She placed her hand on the wound on her arm. A deep gash was left in the place of the bullet. She dropped the knife her blood red eyes watched the man walk away as if nothing had happened. "Who's Dimitri?" She mumbled she turned and looked at him as he walked away "AND WHAT IF I DON'T!" She screamed after him ignoring the people crowding around. She stood and walked towards him her pistol at hand. "That wasn't a smart move old man!" She raised the gun and took a shot at him. Screams eroupted around her. What am I doing!? She looked up hopping he wouldn't turn and fire back.