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Alex wasn't known for being a smart guy by any means, but he had to admit that heading down into the storm drains alone at 3 in the morning wasn't one of his brightest ideas. He'd been lucky enough to find a stick he could wrap his shirt around and use as a torch, but God only knew how long that would last and he definitely didn't want to be stuck down here when that ran out. He'd heard rumors of sweet parties going on down here late at night, though, and dammit he'd get there.

The going was rough, cold, and generally unpleasant, but after another half an hour or so, he could feel the faintest thumping sound off in the distance. He grinned to himself and picked up the pace, glad he'd been right about being able to find the place. The thumping slowly got louder, and it was obvious he was headed in the right direction. When he made it to the solid gold door, though, he knew beyond any shadow of a doubt he was in the right place. The two bouncers in front of it looked pretty tough, and he didn't feel like getting into a fight, so he casually approached with his hands up instead. "Evening, gents. Great weather, eh?"

"Just go on in, kid. We're here to keep riff raff out, not chat about nothing." The bouncer on the right, a bigger guy with shades on, jerked a thumb to the door. The one on the left, a smaller (if only marginally) guy with an owl mask on, opened the door in response. Alex gave them both two thumbs up and headed on in. He was glad that he was used to gunfire, because anyone not used to louder noises would have probably been incapacitated at the volume of the music. He could feel the bass shaking his ribcage, and it felt like he was about to have a heart attack. It was the best kind of feeling.

He gave a few finger guns to some of the nicer-looking ladies and made his way to the bar. "Yo, gimme whatever the strongest thing I can get for this is, on the rocks." He tossed a 20 on the counter with a grin, quickly returning his gaze to the dance floor. Some good-looking chicks around, no doubt, but none really caught his eye right away. The bartender handed him his glass, and Alex took a sip without much thought. Looked like he'd bought a scotch. Not bad, all things considered.

Having given up on the women for now, he took a look at his company at the bar. A couple thugs, a racer or two, the usual. But there were some faces that clearly seemed out of place. They were clearly a group, and a decently well-kept one at that. A handsome-looking man in what was obviously a very expensive suit sat in the center, flanked by what appeared to be a cowboy and a man wearing a varsity jacket and a motorcycle helmet. Behind them, keeping an eye on the dance floor, stood a massive man with slicked back hair and sunglasses, smoking a cigar. Now that was interesting. Picking up his glass, Alex attempted to approach, but was immediately stopped by the smoking one. "You have business with Mr. Miller?"

Alex shrugged and sipped his drink. "Does interest in your being so out of place here count?" He attempted to once again get past, but the man was a good body guard.

The smoker removed the cigar from his lips and pointed it at Alex. "Look, kid. Get the hell out of here. We've got business and it's got nothing to do with you, we clear?" He glanced back at his compatriots. The one with the motorcycle helmet had turned around and seemed to be staring at Alex, though it was impossible to tell behind the visor. The cowboy looked to be more interested in his drink, and the boss, Mr. Miller apparently, glanced briefly at Alex with what could only be described as complete apathy.

Before he'd just been interested, but nobody shrugged off Alexander Ardorus like that. "Hey, asshole! Don't you look at me like that! You wanna get smug with me!?" He put his hands in his coat pockets, his left quickly grabbing the knife he kept there just in case.

Miller sighed and turned around, sipping from a glass of what looked to be bourbon almost boredly. "What, kid? Make it quick."

He'd had it with the kid business. Tossing the glass at the bodyguard and drawing the knife from his coat, Alex rushed at Miller, using his Stand to shove the one in the motorcycle helmet off balance. He swung the knife, the blade coming mere millimeters from Miller's throat, but the man didn't even flinch. "What, not scared?"

Miller shrugged. "Not really. Boys, handle this punk." He stood, brushing off his suit and pulling a wad of cash from his pocket. "Hand this to the bouncers outside, I figure they'll turn a blind eye for a grand. I'm going to go ask about our client, she's running late." Miller gave a brief nod to his men and walked off. Alex attempted to give chase, but before he could even move the cowboy had turned and drawn a revolver, aiming it at Alex's forehead.

"Outside, boy. Now." His voice was gruff, but his accent didn't quite match his attire. It seemed too...down under. Alex grudgingly walked outside, flanked on three sides by Miller's men. He hoped to make a break for it when they got out, but the cowboy kept his gun where it was the whole time. Once they were outside, the one with the cigar handed the cash to the larger of the bouncers, receiving simply a nod in return.

"Make it quick."

Alex's eyes widened as he felt a sharp pain in the back of his head. Must've been that revolver. Heavier than it looked. The one with the motorcycle helmet squatted down in front of Alex, idly spinning a police baton by the wrist strap. "You've got balls, kid, I'll give you that. But you've got no common sense." With speed that could only have come from experience, he then swung the baton down on Alex, knocking him out cold.
___

When Alex woke up, he was in a lot of pain, and he could tell he was bleeding in a few places. But he was also somewhere warm. Struggling to open his eyes, he tried his best to make out his surroundings. It was dimly lit, but in a comfortable, homey way, seemingly an active decision rather than simply the nature of the place. Moving his hands slowly, he realized he was on a bed. No, in a bed, there were blankets on him. Where was he, exactly? He tried to sit up, but the pain kept him down, eliciting a quiet groan.

"Oh, you're awake. I was starting to get worried." Alex hadn't been ready for a voice, and jumped in shock, causing him yet more pain. He looked to the side to find the source of the voice, only to be greeted by what he was sure was a hallucination. Definitely a woman, her figure made that clear, especially with the rather tight clothes. What was bothering him though was the giant bird mask and hood she was wearing. "Are you feeling alright? Those guys got you pretty good."

Alex took a few deep breaths, carefully thinking before he replied. "Who...where am I right now?"

The masked woman giggled, an admittedly rather cute giggle at that, and sat down on a stool next to the bed. "We're a bit away from the club. You've been unconscious for a couple hours now. I brought you here after those three were done with you..." She was silent for a moment, then turned to him again. "I saw what you did to the one in the motorcycle helmet. How you pushed him."

Confused, Alex looked back at the woman in spite of her rather terrifying visage. "You... Are you a Stand user?"

The woman shook her head. "No, but the Shrike allows me to see many things." Things took a turn for the stranger when the woman got up again, only to slide onto the bed and slowly straddle Alex. "I would like to see many more." She began to move the blankets down, and it was as Alex felt himself getting hard that he realized this woman had apparently taken his clothes off when he was unconscious.

"Woah, can we, like, slow down? I'm kind of in pain here..." Wincing, Alex made an attempt to get the woman off of him, but it was in vain. "And can you take the mask off, that shit's really creepy."

The woman sighed audibly, but removed the mask and set it aside. Without it on she was actually quite pretty. Gentle features, with dirty blonde hair kept up under the hood. She was wearing glasses, a personal favorite of Alex's, which only made the situation worse. "I can handle the pain, worry not." She traced a finger over Alex's chest, mumbling some words that sounded like gibberish to Alex. At first nothing seemed to happen, but quickly Alex felt the pain receding.

Shuffling upward in an attempt to sit up, Alex got a better look at the woman now that his mind wasn't clouded with pain. Probably in her twenties, early twenties most likely but she could just look good for her age. Definitely sort of an older sister/mom thing going on, which was all good in Alex's book. And she was clearly down to go right now, which Alex had no trouble with now that he wasn't in excruciating pain. "Okay, I'm down, but can you at least help me get out of here when we're done?"

The woman smiled in response. "Deal."

Alex grinned and pulled the woman down into a kiss, his hands moving to undress her. I should get beaten up more often.

Description
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Alex wasn't known for being a smart guy by any means, but he had to admit that heading down into the storm drains alone at 3 in the morning wasn't one of his brightest ideas. He'd been lucky enough to find a stick he could wrap his shirt around and use as a torch, but God only knew how long that would last and he definitely didn't want to be stuck down here when that ran out. He'd heard rumors of sweet parties going on down here late at night, though, and dammit he'd get there.

The going was rough, cold, and generally unpleasant, but after another half an hour or so, he could feel the faintest thumping sound off in the distance. He grinned to himself and picked up the pace, glad he'd been right about being able to find the place. The thumping slowly got louder, and it was obvious he was headed in the right direction. When he made it to the solid gold door, though, he knew beyond any shadow of a doubt he was in the right place. The two bouncers in front of it looked pretty tough, and he didn't feel like getting into a fight, so he casually approached with his hands up instead. "Evening, gents. Great weather, eh?"

"Just go on in, kid. We're here to keep riff raff out, not chat about nothing." The bouncer on the right, a bigger guy with shades on, jerked a thumb to the door. The one on the left, a smaller (if only marginally) guy with an owl mask on, opened the door in response. Alex gave them both two thumbs up and headed on in. He was glad that he was used to gunfire, because anyone not used to louder noises would have probably been incapacitated at the volume of the music. He could feel the bass shaking his ribcage, and it felt like he was about to have a heart attack. It was the best kind of feeling.

He gave a few finger guns to some of the nicer-looking ladies and made his way to the bar. "Yo, gimme whatever the strongest thing I can get for this is, on the rocks." He tossed a 20 on the counter with a grin, quickly returning his gaze to the dance floor. Some good-looking chicks around, no doubt, but none really caught his eye right away. The bartender handed him his glass, and Alex took a sip without much thought. Looked like he'd bought a scotch. Not bad, all things considered.

Having given up on the women for now, he took a look at his company at the bar. A couple thugs, a racer or two, the usual. But there were some faces that clearly seemed out of place. They were clearly a group, and a decently well-kept one at that. A handsome-looking man in what was obviously a very expensive suit sat in the center, flanked by what appeared to be a cowboy and a man wearing a varsity jacket and a motorcycle helmet. Behind them, keeping an eye on the dance floor, stood a massive man with slicked back hair and sunglasses, smoking a cigar. Now that was interesting. Picking up his glass, Alex attempted to approach, but was immediately stopped by the smoking one. "You have business with Mr. Miller?"

Alex shrugged and sipped his drink. "Does interest in your being so out of place here count?" He attempted to once again get past, but the man was a good body guard.

The smoker removed the cigar from his lips and pointed it at Alex. "Look, kid. Get the hell out of here. We've got business and it's got nothing to do with you, we clear?" He glanced back at his compatriots. The one with the motorcycle helmet had turned around and seemed to be staring at Alex, though it was impossible to tell behind the visor. The cowboy looked to be more interested in his drink, and the boss, Mr. Miller apparently, glanced briefly at Alex with what could only be described as complete apathy.

Before he'd just been interested, but nobody shrugged off Alexander Ardorus like that. "Hey, asshole! Don't you look at me like that! You wanna get smug with me!?" He put his hands in his coat pockets, his left quickly grabbing the knife he kept there just in case.

Miller sighed and turned around, sipping from a glass of what looked to be bourbon almost boredly. "What, kid? Make it quick."

He'd had it with the kid business. Tossing the glass at the bodyguard and drawing the knife from his coat, Alex rushed at Miller, using his Stand to shove the one in the motorcycle helmet off balance. He swung the knife, the blade coming mere millimeters from Miller's throat, but the man didn't even flinch. "What, not scared?"

Miller shrugged. "Not really. Boys, handle this punk." He stood, brushing off his suit and pulling a wad of cash from his pocket. "Hand this to the bouncers outside, I figure they'll turn a blind eye for a grand. I'm going to go ask about our client, she's running late." Miller gave a brief nod to his men and walked off. Alex attempted to give chase, but before he could even move the cowboy had turned and drawn a revolver, aiming it at Alex's forehead.

"Outside, boy. Now." His voice was gruff, but his accent didn't quite match his attire. It seemed too...down under. Alex grudgingly walked outside, flanked on three sides by Miller's men. He hoped to make a break for it when they got out, but the cowboy kept his gun where it was the whole time. Once they were outside, the one with the cigar handed the cash to the larger of the bouncers, receiving simply a nod in return.

"Make it quick."

Alex's eyes widened as he felt a sharp pain in the back of his head. Must've been that revolver. Heavier than it looked. The one with the motorcycle helmet squatted down in front of Alex, idly spinning a police baton by the wrist strap. "You've got balls, kid, I'll give you that. But you've got no common sense." With speed that could only have come from experience, he then swung the baton down on Alex, knocking him out cold.
___

When Alex woke up, he was in a lot of pain, and he could tell he was bleeding in a few places. But he was also somewhere warm. Struggling to open his eyes, he tried his best to make out his surroundings. It was dimly lit, but in a comfortable, homey way, seemingly an active decision rather than simply the nature of the place. Moving his hands slowly, he realized he was on a bed. No, in a bed, there were blankets on him. Where was he, exactly? He tried to sit up, but the pain kept him down, eliciting a quiet groan.

"Oh, you're awake. I was starting to get worried." Alex hadn't been ready for a voice, and jumped in shock, causing him yet more pain. He looked to the side to find the source of the voice, only to be greeted by what he was sure was a hallucination. Definitely a woman, her figure made that clear, especially with the rather tight clothes. What was bothering him though was the giant bird mask and hood she was wearing. "Are you feeling alright? Those guys got you pretty good."

Alex took a few deep breaths, carefully thinking before he replied. "Who...where am I right now?"

The masked woman giggled, an admittedly rather cute giggle at that, and sat down on a stool next to the bed. "We're a bit away from the club. You've been unconscious for a couple hours now. I brought you here after those three were done with you..." She was silent for a moment, then turned to him again. "I saw what you did to the one in the motorcycle helmet. How you pushed him."

Confused, Alex looked back at the woman in spite of her rather terrifying visage. "You... Are you a Stand user?"

The woman shook her head. "No, but the Shrike allows me to see many things." Things took a turn for the stranger when the woman got up again, only to slide onto the bed and slowly straddle Alex. "I would like to see many more." She began to move the blankets down, and it was as Alex felt himself getting hard that he realized this woman had apparently taken his clothes off when he was unconscious.

"Woah, can we, like, slow down? I'm kind of in pain here..." Wincing, Alex made an attempt to get the woman off of him, but it was in vain. "And can you take the mask off, that shit's really creepy."

The woman sighed audibly, but removed the mask and set it aside. Without it on she was actually quite pretty. Gentle features, with dirty blonde hair kept up under the hood. She was wearing glasses, a personal favorite of Alex's, which only made the situation worse. "I can handle the pain, worry not." She traced a finger over Alex's chest, mumbling some words that sounded like gibberish to Alex. At first nothing seemed to happen, but quickly Alex felt the pain receding.

Shuffling upward in an attempt to sit up, Alex got a better look at the woman now that his mind wasn't clouded with pain. Probably in her twenties, early twenties most likely but she could just look good for her age. Definitely sort of an older sister/mom thing going on, which was all good in Alex's book. And she was clearly down to go right now, which Alex had no trouble with now that he wasn't in excruciating pain. "Okay, I'm down, but can you at least help me get out of here when we're done?"

The woman smiled in response. "Deal."

Alex grinned and pulled the woman down into a kiss, his hands moving to undress her. I should get beaten up more often.