The Night Is Young

The dress in question was Christian Dior, a new clothing designer that was taking Paris by storm, and Barbara could see why. It was an elegant, long black dress composed of two layers. The inner one was black velvet that clung to her curves, while the outer layer was composed of a light organza which draped wonderfully and offset the curves underneath, giving the illusion of straight dress lines. Black velvet leaves trailed over the shoulder straps, bodice front, and the skirt below the knee, adding to the elegance. It was finished off by tiny, black diamond Swarovski crystals scattered throughout the design, giving it just a hint of sparkle. Barbara spent a good while admiring herself in the mirror before remembering she had a party to attend. She had to admire Mystique’s taste, the woman knew what looked good on her.

She had been kept up to date on the details of the party, but everything still took Barbara by surprise when she entered the penthouse floor. How she could manage to have this many people attend, when they were both outsider to New York and the States, Barbara could only imagine. But then again, the promise of free alcohol and food always help in attendance numbers. Clearly no expense of spared, as the view from the windows and balcony was one of the best in the city, even better than Barbara’s, not that she minded. This was for both their benefit, financially and socially, so money was not a question, though she did wonder how Mystique was going to play the even. Was she the hostess, were they both?

Upon entering the room, Barbara glanced around casually, seeing if she recognized any faces and to see if she could pick out Mystique. Some faces did stand out to her as a number were either seen entertaining themselves in Artie’s club or had their names in the paper. As for her friend Mystique, she was also easy to spot due to that hair of hers and how a small crowd seemed to have formed around her. Barbara was also aware of a few glances from the other guests. Either they were looking at her for fashion reasons or Mystique had already begun spreading things around about her. Smiling, Barbara took a glass of champagne from a passing tray and made her way towards Mystique and her group of guests.

Thankfully, her enhanced hearing allowed Barbara to make out whatever alias Mystique was using before actually making it to her side. "Ms. Cooper. Valerie," she said, kissing her cheek. “You are looking particularly lovely tonight. That is a beautiful shade of blue you’re wearing. And I must say, what an extraordinary party you’ve put together. I don’t think I could have done any better. Thank you for doing all of this.” The last bit was a tad more quiet, for Mystique’s ears only.

“It fits like a glove. You clearly have an eye for guessing people’s sizes and knowing what they look best in. Should your current career not pan out, might I suggest you become a fashion designer?” Barbara replied with smile, teasing her ever so slightly. Though it had been a while since her last proper social gathering, Barbara was quickly falling back into the familiar territory of flirting and being a social butterfly who knew just what to say and who to say it to. The comment of her being one of Mystique’s dearest friend did not go unnoticed by Barbara, which was a wonderful thing since it gave her an excuse to talk exclusively to each other should the need arise. It also allowed for minor shows of affection such as the holding of hands, which also helped in steadying her. This party wasn’t really any different from others she had attended, but being both a foreigner as well as the guest of honor, Barbara was glad for any assistance Mystique was willing to offer.

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Hogan,” she spoke, dazzling the man with her smile. “District Attorney? Am I right in guessing that title is similar to being a barrister in England?” At that, he smiled and nodded. “Oh, that is wonderful to hear. It’s good to know that I’m not entirely ignorant to American dialogue. But, I do hope that Valerie hasn’t been boring you or giving you a bit of an exaggeration when it comes to the details of my life. Since she has introduced me as ‘Miss’ rather than any other of my titles, I see that is not the case.”
“No, all Miss Cooper said was that you were an aristocrat from England. She didn’t say anything about titles,” Hogan explained.
“Good, as I’d prefer that to be the case rather than have everyone making assumptions about me. Yes, I do come from a moneyed family which gives me an inherited title, but that is neither here nor there. As for why I am here in America, I have a doctorate in archeology and anthropology and, while I mainly venture into Africa and Asia, due to the war, I’ve not been able to do so in recent years. So, rather than going stir-crazy sitting at home, I thought I’d head west and visit The Colonies for the very first time. See what you Yanks have done with the place since the Revolution.” Her voice was light and lilting, and she flirted easily with the man, giving him a nice ebb and flow of a conversation. Barbara was neither overly intelligent with her speech, nor was she the least bit abrasive in her demeanor. Instead she utilized the high society training of keeping subjects as pleasant as possible, while making sure everyone who wanted to be included in the discussion was.

“But let’s be honest, the only reason I got the doctorate was so I could have an excuse to travel as much as I do,” she told one gentleman with a laugh. A few guests saw through Barbara’s performance and asked her in earnest about her explorations and line of work. Those she made a mental note of following up with in case they had any interest in procuring something unique, though Barbara made sure to keep those interests away from any government official or officer of the law, at least until she could properly judge their intentions. If they were too squeaky clean, she would send them in the direction of those that specialized in replicas and reproductions.

Barbara had only vaguely been aware of someone new and interesting entering the the party, but then again, her hearing picking up the rise and fall of chatter in a party full of important guests meant that almost everyone reacted the same way upon seeing someone arrive. This was supposed to be attended by the Who’s Who of New York, so why would someone new give her any reason to react?Anyways, she was having far too much fun flirting with Mr. Hogan. Or at least she was until a gentleman in green stepped into view. It was an intentional move, but done in a way that seemed almost coincidental.

He was very tall, standing a least a few inches higher than most of the men here, if not all of them. His face had strong, though finely chiseled, features and keen green eyes that held a knowing bit of intelligence to them. His black hair was slicked back and from the way he stood in that dark green suit, the man knew just how handsome he was. For a moment Barbara tensed slightly, her eyes falling on the gold accents he wore, being reminded of the gold that Urzkartaga adorned himself with in a similar fashion, but she quickly relaxed, that devilish smile putting her at ease. Had her husband decided to make an appearance here, he wouldn't have disguised himself in such a manner. He would want everyone to see him as he was, like at Artie's villa. Despite herself, Barbara looked him over a second time, taking a deep breath as she did.

He smelled… he smelled quite good, as odd as it was to say. Normally Barbara was able to pull some identifying scents off of people; perfume or cologne, clothing, even soaps or shampoo, but this man? He smelled like everything she enjoyed. Fine liqueur, spices, cured tobacco, the woods in autumn, the plains right after it rained…. she even swore there was a bit of Artie and Mystique mixed in. Sipping her champagne allowed Barbara a moment to clear her head, deciding it would be best not to learn what he actually smelled like. Clearly, the amount of guests tonight, and possibly her nerves, were interfering with things.

“Unfortunately, I’ve not had the opportunity to visit Iceland. The farthest north I’ve traveled is only to Scotland, Mr…” His accent was strange, though Barbara was not familiar with Icelandic accents; other Scandinavian ones, yes, but this was something new, and the way he spoke? Barbara suddenly wanted to hear him say her name a few times over and over again. Perhaps having it whispered in her ear.

“Loki Odinson.” Barbara smiled at the name. She enjoyed the sound of it, though there was a thought that kept flitting through her head about it, one that refused to stay still long enough for her to grasp it and fully understand its meaning. So instead, she simply chuckled and brushed it off as nothing important. “An elegant name for and elegant men, I’m sure.” The kiss on the back of her hand was a lovely touch, one that sent a rush of warmth through her and inexplicably made her feel years younger, as if she were back at one of the galas her parents had put together and this was the first time a man had ever done such a gesture.

As soon as Loki spoke of his home, Barbara did feel bad for not having visited. After all, it wasn’t that far from Scotland. Surely she could charter a boat or fly there. “I should need to remedy that mistake immediately, Mr. Odinson. And I would need a guide there, since I neither speak the language nor do I know anyone who lives there. Save for yourself, of course.” She was almost entranced by his voice and how the words rolled about in his mouth. It wasn’t quite one accent, but neither was it another. It reminded her of a foreign boy she once knew. She'd spend hours just listening to him talk and asking him to say certain words, just to hear his pronunciation. “I’d love for you to host me.” It didn’t even enter her mind to correct him with ‘Doctor’ or ‘Lady’, rather than ‘Miss’. Hell, it was quite possible that Loki could have slandered her name and reputation right then and there and Barbara wouldn’t have been upset.

Feeling the slight increase in weight to her glass, Barbara blinked and looked at it. Hadn’t it just been half full? She glanced around briefly, hoping to see a passing waiter in order to explain such a thing happening. She hadn’t drank that much, had she? Champagne wasn't hard enough to cause such a lapse in memory, at least not for her. But once again, Loki’s voice distracted her. “Barbara is fine.” The curl of her lips showed that he could call her just about whatever he wanted. “I must admit, I’ve stuck with more warmer climates in my travels; Africa is my main destination, though I have visited India and the Middle East in the past. How do you think you would fare on the African plains, Mr. Odinson. Do Icelandic men melt easily? If not, I think you would enjoy it. That is, if you don’t mind a bit of wildlife right outside your doorstep,” she said with the slightest bit of mischief present. Barbara couldn’t help but wonder how much longer she had to be around the other guests, or if they would notice her and Mr. Odinson slipping off to a darkened corner somewhere in order to spend some quiet time alone.

It was all going so well, Loki couldn't help but smirk to himself. Listening to her was its own fun, but being able to affect her affections was ultimately rewarding enough to make the night worth it. Now, he was just curious how far he could take it. He brushed a thumb against her cheek and pushed a stray lock of hair out of her eyes so he could better look into them. "Well, perhaps we could arrange something," he purred. "Why don't you come and visit my homeland and I will travel with you to Africa?" 

His voice twisted its way into her mind. He wasn't particularly interested in removing all of her free will, but he was very much interested in what she might do given the right ... push. By now, that Hogan fellow was frowning in jealousy that Loki had managed to steal the guest of honor's attentions away from him, but Loki relished in it. He delighted in the unhappiness of the common mortal. He used that delight to paint a charismatic grin on his face, closing the distance between himself and Barbara. 

"I can assure you, my lady, that I do not make a habit of melting. I think you might find me an agreeable travel companion." With a smirk, he gently pulled her closer so their bodies were only a breath apart. His voice dropped low as he leaned in, lips brushing against the shell of her ear. His breath on her neck was pleasantly warm and soft, his scent becoming more overpowering the longer he let himself be in this close proximity to the woman. "Why don't we travel first to a bedroom?" The suggestion was simple enough, but it was his lips against her neck that drove his intentions home. One hand slid down her side to rest on her hip, but somehow the action wasn't uncomfortable. He was skilled enough in the art of seduction, that he was sure his actions were nothing less than gentlemanly. 

Barbara blinked when Loki pushed a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. That shouldn’t have been something that needed to be done. She had checked her hair before leaving for the party and nothing was out of place. In fact, it was styled so that there shouldn’t have been a stray lock period. For a few brief moments, Barbara was thinking clearer than she had been since she began talking to Mr. Odinson. That is, until he began speaking once more. After that, she was right back under his spell. “As I said, I would love to accept your kind offer. I don’t think I could imagine anyone better to guide me,” she smiled.

Barbara still had her free will, but it was the fact that, for the most part, she wanted this. She had always had a soft spot for men coming in and sweeping her off her feet. Of course, as it would happen, the glamour would eventually wear off and once it did, she’d quickly drop the potential love interest if they didn’t meet her standards. Though she would be reluctant to tell him, Artie Cade had been the longest running of these men in her life, but his longevity was likely due to the simple fact that he hadn’t swept her off her feet when they first met. Not entirely, at least. He was rough around the edges and Barbara liked that. But Loki? Oh, he was a charmer. A wonderful, wonderful charmer.

“I can’t wait to get you abroad,” she told him with a slight chuckle, well aware of all the extra meanings her answer entailed. When he pulled her close, Barbara quieted and stilled her breathing, eyes closing as she heard his voice, felt his closeness, and breathed in his scent. He still somehow was compromised of various, delicious smells, all of which made her want him more. It took everything in her power not to bury her face in the crook of her neck and leave her lipstick upon his shirt collar. Barbara suspected that, had she done such thing, all eyes would be on her, but for less than polite reasons. You just didn’t do such things at parties where you were the guest of honor.

A small sound escaped her when his lips pressed against her neck, followed by an electric thrill coursing up her spine upon hearing his simple and genuine suggestion. “Yes, let’s find some place out of the way,” she answered. Barbara blinked after speaking, her head jerking ever so slightly, as if being startled or waking from a dream. The latter was actually a rather appropriate description. Her head felt tired and full of cotton. This moment of clarity was something akin to her surfacing from being underwater and taking a clean breath, only to be dunked or pulled under once more into that beautiful haze. Something inside her was fighting, like a child that did not want to sleep, though their body said otherwise. And that was exactly what her body was doing, particularly when Loki placed his hand on her hip. Barbara smiled. “We will have to explore together, since I have never been to this penthouse before. But I’m sure it won’t be too hard to find.”

Loki was charming, and he knew it. Some would argue that he was too charming for his own good, and there was some truth to that. He was so charming that he couldn't always get out of situations he found himself in when he wanted to. Not that he particularly wanted to get out of this situation, but it would be damn awkward if he did. Not only was he so effortlessly winning over this woman, but he found himself more and more intrigued by her. The mark of the god that he noticed on her was almost glowing brighter, and for other gods it might have been a deterrent. But for Loki? No, it was an enticement. He so wondered who had marked her...

He smirked and hooked one of his arms around hers, easing up on his magic a little bit. "I think I saw the hostess disappear this way earlier," he said, gesturing with his golden walking stick, the effigy of his horned helmet glittering at the knob. "That might put us on the right track, don't you think?" He started to lead her in the direction of a hallway, stopping just as they were out of sight of the rest of the party. "I don't think the guests will miss the guest of honor for ... oh, I would guess an hour?" he teased. He wouldn't make it that long, of course, but he wouldn't leave her unsatisfied. He was far too much of a gentleman to do that, no matter how quick they might have needed to make it.

"My lady," he purred, still inching them toward a room. It didn't matter that it originally didn't have a bed. It had one now. "I would like very much to kiss you." But of course, he didn't want to make the first move. He lessened the effect his magic had on her, to let her decide if this is what they were really going to do. Obviously, he hoped they would, but even a trickster's hypocrisy could only go so far. "Is this really what you would like to do?" He wanted to give her one clear headed shot to say no before he had his way with her, and he would have his way with her if he had the chance.