Xaviers!

Miriam arrives at the Raven's Crest in style, which is to say a dark green Bentley pulls up, the passenger side door slides up and out steps Miriam. She's wearing strappy heels that end in a wide buckle just above the ankle and the slit in the side of her dress briefly reveals the top of her stockings before she fully rises up and her dress falls over it again. She's wearing a bolero jacket with wide shoulders that rise into slight points, adorned with intricate designs and a tight high-collar with seemingly no clasp. Four straps of dark turquoise fabric fall away from the jacket almost like a cape but the two inner ones wrap tightly around her mid-section to create a sort of layered X-pattern before becoming the top of the dress, leaving her collarbones and cleavage exposed between dress and stiff jacket. The two outer cape-straps swoop back up to connect to the two silvery 'shackles' on her wrists and finally her dress reaches all the way to the floor, dragging behind her and tapering off and separating into strips of jagged fabric adorned with a silvery brim that curl up, move and undulate on their own accord.

Not long after, a Rolls Royce pulls up. As Sam steps out, she's also showing a bit of cleavage, albeit framed in perhaps a predictable fashion. She has her hair up in a style that's treading the knife's edge between wild and meticulously pinned. Beneath the feather ruff lies a dress that's tastefully translucent. At her sides something silvery glints on her fingers. heels click on the pavement as she strides up to Miriam with a quiet nod.

The two luxury cars peeled away after letting their passengers out, the Rolls slipping behind the Bentley as the two headed off into the night.

Onlookers -- and there were lookers on, for sure, as both of the arrivals had a bit of presence to them, might question how Sam's dress clung just so, highlighting her muscular frame and tight in all the right places, which changed as she moved. Or how Miriam's dress didn't catch and clump under her feet as it dragged behind her, the jagged fabric behind swaying and twisting in the bright lights of the club.

Ah, there she is. Feathers, hrm? Well, you can't say she doesn't pull them off, and there's nothing wrong with having a personal brand, even if it's a bit on the nose for the RAVEN'S crest...
Ah, good, she's here first. Hey, she found a color other than black. She really is putting in the effort.

"I suppose I can't fault you for staying on brand." she says with her hand against her chin and smirking at Sam. "Straight-forward perhaps, but it suits you, even if it is being a little cheeky for a dress."

"It's a novel material. Yours too, I'm sure."

"Almost as if it has a mind of it's own. Shall we?" she adds, turning towards the entrance.

"We've already started, haven't you noticed?"

She gives a lopsided smirk and strides in confidently.

Hot damn, but she pulls it off... Miriam's Will "helpfully" thought.

"Shush, you." Miriam whisper, grabbing the cloth strung from her wrist to her back and giving it a slight tug.

Then she casts her mind out ahead of herself, catching up with Sam just as mindscape manifests around her. The ground Miriam steps on turns to polished marble and the entrance to the club sprouts a dense framing of dark-red roses. The subtle shift in lighting it entails just so happens to favour Miriam in their entrance.

Sam meanwhile has cast her mind out over the occupants of the club, already getting a feel for the ebb and flow and give and take of the personal interactions present. She's gliding through the crowd effortlessly, not by moving people around so much as anticipating where they'll be.

Miriam pauses at the edge of the larger crowd and let's the atmosphere wash over her. Pulsing beats of music smoothing over the different nuances of thoughts and urges of the crowd into a heady cocktail, enough tipsy people to let it get to her head a little, literally getting drunk of the crowd. And beneath it all the throbbing excitement of dozens of heartbeats. Not too hard to find somebody willing if she wanted to. She made an entrance and enough minds took note of her to narrow down the ones intrigued enough easily, but then...

She huffs through her nose a little and moves into the crowd, moving more to the music than the crowd and moving those in her way with a gentle touch and subtle mental push to give her just enough space to dance as she pleases while still immersed in the throng of people.

After getting the lay of the land, Sam wades in and starts dancing. Where she passes, some might feel a bit of a shiver. A sudden reminder of missed opportunities, of limited time. A need to not let a night like tonight go to waste. It's not much, but it has a knock-on effect as the first people decide to take their chances, spreading out almost in a fractal from where Sam is dancing.

Both telepaths had an effect on their third wheels (and fourth, one supposes) as well, being rather at the center of the telepathic showoff contest.

Miriam tapped into a general, overall state of intoxication, for sure -- even in a classy club like the Raven's Crest, there were plenty of people who had had a cocktail or eight too much, and siphoning off that extra energy was child's play. But Will -- well, her Will for certain -- was intoxicated as well, feeling the rhythm and movement as Miriam danced to the beat, swaying just enough to keep her cape and other dangly bits out of range of people stepping on them and messing up Miriam's rhythm. Miriam, of course, had a slightly better first-hand understanding of Will's intoxication at this point, whether she liked it or not.

Sam's Will shivered a little bit at the mental touch; the gown's sequins rippling and reflecting the light from the dance floor. It got a little tighter around the hips, just a touch, as Sam moved to the rhythm of the music.

"Bloody hell, Sam, start a right orgy on the dance floor why don't you?" Miriam says in a bad attempt to pretend she's not being affected by the almost melancholic feeling of could-have-beens.

"Dancing with death should make you feel alive, aye?"

"You're so full of yourself." she laughs, shaking her head. "Though I can't deny you're putting on a good show with your smoke and mirrors."

"I'm just setting the mood. I've barely started."

"We both know you're not going to kill anybody tonight. You're all bark and no bite." she says, emphasizing the last word by flashing her fangs at Sam.

"Oh, is that what you think this is about?"

"I think you just boasted about how it feels to dance with death, Little Miss Psychopomp." she says, turning away from Sam and moving behind her as she dances. "And I think that's cute considering you'd never seriously harm anyone who doesn't deserve it. You fashion yourself the big bad wolf but deep down you're more the ferocious guard-dog, are you not?"

"Well that's what a psychopomp is, don't you think? They don't just go around offing people."

"I do, but I think you secretly like the idea of making it sound more dark and ominous."

"I'm pretty sure being the last thing people see doesn't need any help being dark and ominous."

"Depends on how you go about it. I don't believe for a moment you're cruel enough to scare somebody in the last moment of their existence."

"That's the thing about being ominous. You don't just show up at the end. You make sure they see it coming."

"I don't know... that sounds a lot like giving them a fair warning." she teases.

"Then they try to get out of it, and sometimes they fight it, and it's interesting."

"You're talking like you've done that a lot..."

"It's the stuff of the Aided Con Culainn. Lashing himself to a bloody menhir with his own intestines so he could die standing up."

"And you actually remember that? You, Samantha McManus. Or is this one of those stories that resonates with you?"

"Sometimes. There's an awful lot muddled up in here."

"That's messed up. The guy who tied his guts to a stone. And you too, a little bit."

"From you, that almost sounds like a compliment."

"What can I say, I'm drawn to the lunatics." she says.

"Then I'll take it for what it's worth," she smirks over her shoulder.

Miriam is quiet for a bit, simply moving to the music as her thoughts grow a bit more guarded.

"I need a drink." she finally decides with a brief nod towards the bar before slipping away through the crowd.

Sam lingers for a moment on the dance floor before making her way to the bar as well.

"Found something that works for you?" She asks as she comes up alongside Miriam.