Clubbing Bites

April 30, 2019:

Rachel and Illyana take a break from it all and go clubbing. Naturally, vampires happen.

A club in Ibiza


NPCs: None.



Mood Music: None.

Fade In…

Date of incident: Somewhere between <shit happening> and <other shit happening>.

Location: Ibiza, Spain, the clubbing capital of the world.

Exact Location: A nightclub /in/ Ibiza, Spain, the clubbing capital of the world.

The Situation:

It's night time. Of course. Illyana and Rachel have decided that it's absolutely necessary to go out and just -do- something -fun- for a change. They've spent the day enjoying Ibiza's day life, and now it's time to enjoy the 'night' life. A long line of people can be seen waiting outside of a large building. Enormous bouncers let people in, check IDs, or refuse people the opportunity of what awaits inside entirely.

Loud dance music bursts from the building, even with the doors closed, ones ear drums are still throbbing with the beat. For Rachel? The idea of waiting in line is absolutely 'no'. Thus she tilts her head towards the door and gestures Illyana to follow. Rachel is dressed to kill in red leather (complete with red leather jacket, mini-skirt, stiletto heels, and red leather corset for a top). With a square of her shoulders, Ray's moving with purpose down the line towards the entrance and the bouncers located there. The large, burly men blink a few times, their eyes almost glassed over, before they open the doors and let Illyana and Rachel inside, without a word. In fact, strangely enough, no one in the line even grumbles. Once.

Lately it seems like shit is always happening to mutants in the USA, from angry mobs at one end of the spectrum to killer robots at the other. Sometimes, being somewhere else is the only option, and that's easier for Illyana than most other people.

Incidentally, most other people would probably feel guilty about sneaking off to Ibiza while said shit was happening, but not Illyana Rasputin. And apparently not Rachel Summers either. Perfect.

The pale Russian has somehow managed to avoid getting burned burned - or even tanned - while spending the day on a sun-drenched Mediterranean island, and has no intention of going home early. Having taken one look at the brightness of Rachel's dramatic outfit, Illyana has embraced the darkness. The only spots of colour are her blue eyes and blonde hair, the rest is all black. Her sleeveless top looks unassuming enough from the front, but is only held in place by laces that criss-cross the pale skin of her back. By contrast, her legs are covered by a black leather skirt that falls in a straight line to her ankles, and on her feet are a pair of heavy, black leather boots with thick soles and chunky heels. There's a cuff of studded black leather around one wrist, and there might be some dramatic black eyeliner going on as well.
The only fly in Illyana's ointment tonight is the queue, and Rachel has that well in hand. No surprise from the blonde sorceress, no self-conscious looks back at the other would-be patrons in the queue, she just falls in beside Rachel and walks past the bouncers like she owns the place.

"I knew it." Illyana says, as they step inside. "Supervillain."

Turning back just before the blast of music hits them, Rachel merely smiles. "Come join me in the dark side." Her emerald eyes twinkle with delight, before the doors part open, and there isn't going to be much actual talking, without at least yelling directly into each other's ears.

Like most places of this ilk, there are a lot of people crushed together into the building. A lot. Of people. Some are dressed similar to Illyana, dark and black, others have more color to their outfits, but all are here for the singular purpose of having fun. And drinking. Okay, the double purpose of having fun, drinking, and dancing - let me start over.

All are here to party.

And party is exactly what Rachel intends on doing, tonight at least.

The building is broken up into different raised platforms for those brave enough to get up and show their stuff on them, more 'in the spotlight' than others. Another raised platform towards the back where the DJ is rocking the house. The main dance floor, of course, is where most of the action is, as bodies are crushed so tightly together, you'd think they'd all been glued to each other. On the rim of the dance floor is a large bar, where again several people have congregated. Above all of this is a wide, long balcony that looks down onto the dance floor, from there several tables and chairs have been set up, though there are fewer people in the shadows of the balcony, than there are below. (Why just look?)

For Rachel, her first action is to wrap her coat about her waist, tying the sleeves together in a make-shift belt, then head towards the bar. She doesn't have to say anything to Illyana, Rachel's quite sure the 'parched need drink' purpose filled stride to the bar is evidence enough.

As Rachel winds her way through the people, up in the balcony a small group of men and women all dressed in VERY PROPER Goth attire have arrived and look down upon the gathering.

Illyana might be about to ask Rachel just which of them is the demon queen of the hell dimension after that crack about the dark side… but then the music hits her with almost physical force, and she has to settle for trying to fit all that into an eloquent look instead.

She won't lower herself to thinking loudly at the redhead. At least not yet.

As Rachel deals with the fact that the club is quite a lot hotter even than the warm evening outside - and more than likely draws some attention doing so - Illyana's ice blue eyes roam around the club, from the dancers, to the platforms, to the bar, to the upper level. For just a few moments it seems like everything within the club, including the music, flows around her, leaving her unaffected as she studies it. But then the moment breaks, she smiles, and lets it all in.

Illyana looks for Rachel, and finds her striding imperiously toward the bar, lesser mortals getting out of her way as if by magic. Illyana's not about to chase her. She'd only have to wait for the drinks with her if she did.

The music is like a living thing, and she lets it move her, stepping onto the dance floor and raising her arms above her head, tilting her head back, letting the rhythm flow through her as she moves through the packed throng of dancers, swaying and turning seemingly without direction… but somehow she's soon stepping back off the dance floor, next to Rachel, with her small bubble of personal space still unbreached.

Turning around to lean her back against the bar, Illyana rolls her head to one side to find Rachel. "This was a good choice."

Not quite yet letting the music flow through her, Rachel's intentions are very clear. Drink. Parched. Hot in here. Thirsty. Thus she keeps her stride and thoughts on that intent and that alone. She's vainly forgotten the fact Illyana can't keep up with Rachel's stride, given what the blonde is wearing. Still, when Rachel's gaze turns back to check up on Illyana's progress and ask her what she wants - well, it's clear that Illyana isn't having any problems what so ever.

Turning back to the bar, Rachel's head tilts to one side, idly pondering what she wants to drink. It is Spain, so a Sangria or Tinto de Verano sounds delightful. Purposely not using her mental powers of persuasion to lure the Bartender over, Rachel instead offers a smile and tilt of her head when the bartender is looking in her direction. The end result is a Tinto de Verano for herself, and a grin at Illyana. "Getting the opportunity to relax once, hell yeah it is. So, whatcha having, Illy? First rounds on me."

Leaning against the bar, while waiting for the drinks to be prepared, Rachel's gaze lingers on the dance floor - or at least what can be seen. People watching is half the fun of going to a place like this, as Ray's green eyes scan the people present. A few are given a couple glances, amusing outfits, handsome people, the usual kind that catches the eyes and keeps it there.

The group of heavily Goth people have dispersed through the crowd, on tall, dark haired (obviously dyed) man slides up next to Illyana, his accent is thick - made to sound even more accented than he might truly speak, his clothing is all old fashioned lace cuffs, and stiff suit, a pseudo vampire look that probably works wonders with most women. "Would you care to dance?" He inquires of the blonde.

"Well if you're starting with soft drinks, I'd better pace myself." Illyana's teasing, but only a little bit. She's Russian, after all. She'll doubtless find something harder to drink before long. Twisting halfway around so she can see the barman - and having to wait an extra second for him to tear his attention away from Rachel - the blonde says simply, "Dos. Por favor." It might be the limit of her Spanish but she still says it with utter conviction and confidence.

Leaning an elbow on the bar - having surreptitiously made sure she wasn't about to put it in a puddle of split beer - Illyana nods at Rachel's jacket. "Want me to get rid of that for you?" She asks, without really thinking about it, then frowns, worries at her bottom lip for a moment, then shrugs. "Pretty sure my pets are behaving well enough now that it won't come back chewed or clawed." With that level of assurance, maybe Rachel will prefer to keep the jacket with her!

Reassuming her comfortable slouch with her back against the bar, propped up with her elbows, Illyana watches the man approach. For a moment she holds out hope that he's another moth to the redheaded flame beside her, but she couldn't get so lucky. "Ray?" Illyana says, without taking her eyes off the man. "I've changed my mind. I'd like a big bottle of vodka and a blowtorch, please." She smiles so very, very sweetly after she's said it too.

The man who asked if Illyana would like to dance, offers a thin lipped smile, as his hands gesture to each side of him, before he bows low before Illyana. When he looks up, his mouth is parted, four very large canine teeth can be seen, glistening ever so slightly. "Ja som s tebou husi nepsol." The look in his eyes is anything but friendly, his eyes already bloodshot from too much to drink. After his words, he turns swiftly and disappears into the crowd, though a slight tilt of his head is given to several others dressed almost identically throughout the establishment.

As far as Rachel is concerned, she doesn't know Slovak, so is fairly unsure what just transpired. Considering the large, large, LARGE amount of people in this place, Ray's doing her level best to keep all emotions and thoughts very well in check. As much fun as nightclubs are, they're hell on her telepathy, so it's best to just keep everything blocked well away behind her impressive mental shields.

"I think he just insulted you." Rachel states, head tilting to one side, before she lets out a quiet laugh. "Damn, I wanted to be the first one that got that." By the time the barkeep has returned with the drinks, Rachel's forgotten anything really transpired, her eyes once again on the dance floor. The jacket, in the meantime, is handed over to Illyana. "I do expect it back in one piece." She announces. "I've had it for awhile now. Shall we start on that raised platform there? I feel like.." And Rachel's grin is impish. "Showing off." And she hasn't even taken a single sip of her drink yet, either.

That sweet, sweet smile of Illyana's? It doesn't reach her eyes. And… maybe it's a trick of the strobing lights that play across the dancefloor, but in the comparative dimness by the bar, her blue eyes suddenly seem uncannily, inhumanly bright. There's no reaction to the man's words, or to his courtly bow, but Illyana hasn't taken her eyes off him since that smile.

"Then we understand each other." Illyana says, quietly, far too quietly to be heard with the music so loud, at least by anyone human. Cold blue eyes narrow at the head tilt, flickering left and right as she marks who reacts without turning her head.

"You must be a mind reader." Illyana says, lightly and with a smirk, then laughs herself at Rachel's disappointment. "If that one comes back, we might have a problem." She says, darkly, but her mood switches almost instantly, and she continues as if she hadn't said anything, "The next one's all yours, I promise." Illyana snorts quietly to herself. "And the one after that." As Rachel's attention gravitates to the dance floor, Illyana's eyes flicker away again, but they're back on Rachel by the time the jacket is thrust upon her. "Fingers crossed." Illyana says, mostly to be a brat, and as the strobes play over them again there's a slightly brighter flicker of light, and the sorceress' hands are empty. Her drink quickly finds its way into them, and the sorceress takes a sip. It's not terrible.

"I'd never have guessed." Illyana says, dryly, but only waits long enough to take another, bigger sip of her drink. "I'm glad you paid for these, if we're not going to finish them!" She mock-complains, but then she's pushing away from the bar and heading for the podium Rachel indicated. Climbing the steps, she steps fearlessly onto the platform, spins around, and makes a big show of offering her hand to Rachel, inviting her to climb up and join them. If the redhead wants to show off, giving her a big entrance is the least Illyana can do.

And so the night continues, with much theatrical grace, Rachel accepts the offered hand, moving to climb the stairs to the small, raised platform and let the music flow through her.

Hours go by, though really it's difficult to tell, given it passes by so quickly. Sometimes dancing, sometimes gyrating, sometimes alone, sometimes with a lot of people, or just one, Rachel fully enjoys herself. Dance breaks are few and far between, but always end up with an alcoholic drink, avoiding (or down right offending) any would be romeo, then getting back onto the dance floor. Everything else is forgotten, at least for a little bit, and Rachel (and hopefully Illyana too) are given a small reprieve from the world around them.

The last hour of the night find Rachel and Illyana up in the balcony area, sprawled out on chairs, a few extra rounds of empty bottles and glasses on the table in front of them, and a view of the dance floor below. Even if its the last hour of the night, the dance floor is still full of people, and Rachel's watching them with an amused expression. "Okay okay, last one." She states. "That one there, in the pink silk shirt, that's unbuttoned all the way down, dancing next to the woman wearing the Daisy Duke shorts and half shirt. I say he's in the stock market, who has two children and a wife about thirty, and is supposed to be in a hotel room, but snuck out and is hoping to get lucky with that chick he's been dancing with for the past hour."

The game, obviously, is 'pick a person, make up a story' then Rachel will mind read to find out if they're right, or who's more right. And Rachel hasn't cheated once, okay well, maybe once, but only because she accidentally started the mind read before giving her opinion on their 'story'. And yes, Ray's a tad tipsy ( a lot ) and her words are slightly slurred.

As Ray's gaze flickers towards Illyana with an amused expression still written in Ray's green eyes, a slight shadow movement behind Illyana catches Rachel's attention. It was as though the shadows themselves seemed to grow unnaturally, then shimmer away again. The effect causes Rachel's head to shake a bit, before her gaze flickers back to Illyana. Though for anyone with any form of supernatural senses, they'll note, the room got a lot colder, and the shadows are alive with 'visitors'.

Illyana just had to add a last flourish, as Rachel arrived on the platform, sweeping into a courtly bow as if she's presenting Rachel to the patrons of the club as part of the entertainment. Maybe she is - Illyana's certainly entertained, and just this once she doesn't mind sharing.

In such a loud, packed club, even Rachel and Illyana taking one of the podiums doesn't draw that much interest, but the blonde sorceress' antics do turn a few more eyes their way, as people who've noticed them nudge friends who haven't. Illyana's smiling at Rachel all the while. The redhead wanted to be the centre of attention, so Illyana is determined to oblige.

As one track bleeds into another with a thumping, urgent beat, Illyana - who incidentally hasn't let go of Rachel's hand yet - twirls herself under the taller redhead's arm so that her back is almost resting against Rachel's chest and begins to move to the music, darkness and fire dancing together.
And she makes sure that she catches the eyes of the… individual… who asked her to dance earlier, and favours him with her best smirk.

All good things, though, must come to an end, and although getting off the dance floor involved a little mutant-related cheating by one or the other of them, eventually Illyana can be found on that balcony, almost horizontal in her chair, legs stretched out before her, one boot resting atop the other just so. When Rachel announces their latest victim, Illyana props herself up on her elbows to sit a bit straighter, takes one look at the unfortunate that Rachel's picked out, then flops back into her comfortable slouch. "You're way off." Illyana says, smugly. "HE came here with someone else, they've had an argument, and now he's trying to make them jealous." Without even looking, Illyana reaches out to point a finger unerringly at another man, wearing a tank top that's FAR too tight, and who's determinedly got his back to the dancefloor while he sips moodily and too frequently at his beer. "Tell me I'm wrong."

Illyana is slightly less drunk than Rachel, which may be because she's slightly demonic, mostly Russian, or just because she's not able to relax quite as completely as the redhead after her brief encounter with the individual with the impressive teeth. Either way, she doesn't miss the sudden change in the club's ambience.

"Rachel." Illyana's voice suddenly has an edge, but her body language doesn't change, as she pushes herself up to her feet and moves to lean against the railing surrounding the balcony area, stretching out her - very slightly inebriated - senses in an attempt to gauge how big a problem they're about to have, even as her eyes scan the people below. "There might be a lot of screaming soon." She looks over her shoulder, blue eyes bright, an inappropriate smile twisting her lips. "I hope you're not as drunk as you look."

A distinct frown crosses Rachel's expression as Illyana explains her idea on their current 'people watch'. "No.." The red head begins, her thoughts reaching outwards towards the two, and so completely intent upon discovering that Illyana is, indeed, quite right in her deductions, Rachel's initially not hearing, nor even paying attention to Illyana's words.

"Blast! You're right. Great, dad, Illyana. How did you ever do that?"

At which point, Rachel starts laughing, picking up a very empty bottle to gaze at it with frustration. "I drank that, already? No. Wait. What?"

It's at this point that the red-head finally lets sink in everything that Illyana is saying. The foggy brain of happiness that Rachel is in right now tries to sharpen, as she stands upwards, casting her gaze about the room. "I am not drunk." Though even as she stands, her heels twist slightly, and Rachel's forced to plant her hands on the table top to support herself. "Much. What's going on?"

Indeed, Illyana is quite right in her assumption that things are about to get messy - for below, hidden under the balcony that Illyana and Rachel are in, the great doors to the establishment have been closed and locked, other exits are being swiftly closed in, and as everyone is wanting to enjoy the last hour of the night at the club, no one is noticing that they're all suddenly very trapped inside the building.

From the shadows, the one Illyana smiled at slips out to stand slightly into the beam of a ceiling light, his tongue idly sweeps about insanely long teeth as he turns his gaze onto Illyana and Rachel. With a flick of his fingers, soon every shadow in the building comes alive, as more and more men and women emerge, turning hungry gazes onto the people below.

The man's gaze remains upon Illyana. "Little demon." He begins. "Will you join us in the feast?"

Another time, Illyana might have laughed at Rachel's unique version of 'Great Scott!', or at the very least given her a hard time about it - while 'modestly' celebrating that she can read people better than a telepath, of course - and the simple fact that she does neither of those things might be Rachel's first clue that something is up.

If the redhead hadn't had quite so much to drink, anyway.

As it is, Illyana's fingers tighten on the railing she's so casually leaning against when she sees Rachel - Rachel, who strode so imperiously across the club when they arrived - nearly get dumped back onto her butt when her heels threaten to betray her. Just how much has the redhead… oh. Illyana's eyes scan the empty glasses and bottles. THAT much. Illyana keeps her tone casual, her voice pitched just loud enough to reach Rachel, as she fills her in. "Someone doesn't know how to take a hint."

Not only does the vampire - because with teeth like that, what else could he be? - not know how to take a hint, but he feels the need to be obnoxiously ostentatious about it too. Illyana looks to her left, slowly, then to her right, as if she has all the time in the world, then straightens up from her lean against the railing. Turning around as the vampires press in, she fixes the spokesvampire with eyes that are now flat, faintly glowing gold and smiles, showing her own fangs. "I will." She tells him…

And then the Soulsword flashes out, carving through a vampire without the slightest resistance, the undead creature burning to ash in a flare of silver-white flame in an instant. Illyana grins, and although her teeth are entirely normal and her eyes are gleaming ice blue once more, there's little humanity in it. "But you're not going to like what's on MY menu."

She really hopes Rachel is ready to back her up, because she doesn't dare shoot a glance over her shoulder to check.

Illyana's first answer does surprise the vampire, his large, bushy eyebrows arching upwards in the expression. He's about to turn the surprise into a slow smile - when Illyana goes and dusts one of his brood. The smile turns into a snarl, "You will not live long enough to regret your choice, this evening." Though rather than rushing Illyana and Rachel, the vampire sweeps his hand into a circle. A charge of mystical power erupts from his fingertips, creating a circular portal which the vampire swiftly jumps through disappearing through it and reappearing in the middle of the dance floor.

A loud terrified scream echoes from below, as the vampire grabs one victim lifts his head upwards, and begins to lower his teeth down onto the woman's exposed neck.

All around, people are yelling, and screaming, as the other vampires swiftly follow suit, moving to take hold of their meals and feast.

As for on the balcony, the one vampire that was dusted by Illyana, has a few friends, massive men with large, bulging muscles that leap towards Illyana and Rachel, "Shouldn't have done that girl." Their fingers are weapons themselves, long sharp nails used for tearing, rendering, and ripping their prey into pieces.

As for Rachel, well, she's standing there, in her heels, gazing out through a fog at the sudden turn of events. She seems to be not moving, stunned, or not processing things, standing without motion, or even blinking her eyes. Just before one of the vampires leaps towards her, Rachel finally reacts, stopping the creature in mid-leap, as her cold, green eyes move him towards her. "I." She states flatly. "WAS HAVING FUN." The wood along the balcony railing rips outwards, as a large, sharp stake drives through the vampire's heart then, turning him into dust.

Oh, how credulous the lead vampire is. Still believing Illyana would waste her time on him after she shot him down the first time. The moment where he's about to smile, that split instant where his hopes are crushed and his face twists into an ugly snarl, that's the moment that Illyana was looking for, and for the dark part of her soul it's more intoxicating than all of the alcohol she's drunk tonight, most of which is still buzzing around her system.

The vampire's threat does nothing to lessen Illyana's grin. "Which one? Not setting you on fire the first time we met? I already regret that one!" The Soulsword is up in a high guard position, both hands gripping the hilt, and if the alcohol is affecting Illyana she's doing a good job of not letting it show as she takes a step forwards - only to curse as the vampire pulls his disappearing act.

Illyana spins around, looking down - and of course, there he is. He wants to hog the limelight as much as the two of them were, earlier. Illyana likes to think it's a lot less appealing when it's a vampire doing it. Releasing the hilt of the Soulsword with one hand, she starts to make a complex gesture in the air - and then curses again as the other vampires rush them. There's a flash of light, and a portal appears in front of the vampire leaping toward her - spitting him out right on top of his boss on the dancefloor below. Hoping that bought the would-be victim a couple of seconds, Illyana has the Soulsword in both hands again - when the second vampire freezes in mid-air.

The Russian sorceress looks over her shoulder at Rachel as the redhead disposes of the second vampire. "What, this isn't fun?" She asks, almost teasingly, and drops through another portal to reappear on the dancefloor below.

Illyana's actions does give the would-be victim a few seconds, as the lead vampire is ill prepared for the other one falling on top of him. Just before he was going to sink his teeth into his victim, a bright flash of light is the only warning before a tangled bunch of limbs is the next. The woman is able to break free from the situation and make a break for the door, only to find everyone doing the same thing, as vampires bar their escape, and the doors do not budge. Several people are in the process of trampling each other in their mad-panic dash for an exit.

On the dancefloor, itself, the lead vampire shoves the other to one side, flinging the huge, muscle bound man into the air, uncaring where the man lands up. (Which is crashing back to the floor, and slowly getting up, his head shaking from one side to the other.)

With a snarl, the vampire turns his gaze towards the arriving Illyana. Rather than tackle her one-on-one, the vampire's hands once again weave an intricate pattern of motions, as a large ball of eldrich energy erupts from his hands soon after and goes careening towards the blonde sorceress.

Meanwhile, up in the balcony, Rachel's head is still swimming, though she's taken a moment to clear the mess with a little telepathic wake-up call. With a shake of her red hair, Rachel's response before Illyana disappears below is to yell after. "As long as I don't have to hold back!" Which, honestly, it's vampires. Rachel isn't going to hold back.

Three more vampires are still up in the balcony area, turning their attention towards Rachel. The red-head continues to rip stakes out of the balcony railing, slamming one, after another, into the remaining vampires, or at least trying. One more she takes out swiftly, the other two move so quickly, Rachel misses and finds herself staring into one of them - face to face. Though as the creature moves to strike his talon fingers through her, he'll find a bubble of telekinetic energy blocking his intentions. Which is the last thing he does, as another stake drives through his heart, leaving him nothing more than dust in the wind.

Illyana's boots thud down on the rapidly-clearing dancefloor as she lands, the silvery portal above her vanishing the instant she's through. Her eyes flicker first to the head vampire's victim, but since she's well enough to be actively fleeing, they lock on to the vampire himself a moment later. He's her prey… until a little stab of conscience reminds her of all the human cattle trying to escape while the vampires keep them penned in for slaughter.

Illyana's expression sours, but Rachel's yell from above makes her snort back a laugh. "You're asking ME for permission?" She yells back. "Who do you think I am, your Dad?" Suddenly in a much better mood, Illyana plunges into the sea of panicked humanity. Immediately a pair of vampires come at her, all power and aggression - and no finesse. The Soulsword takes one, and Illyana pirouettes around to ward off the other with a hard kick to the midriff.

Or at least, that was the plan. Illyana might have forgotten she was wearing a tight, leather skirt down to her ankles. Her kick gets hopelessly tangled in her skirt, and a moment later she's on her butt on the dancefloor, surrounded by spilt drinks, broken glass, and the fragments of her pride.

It's not her finest moment, and it's only slightly improved when the eldrich bolt that was meant for her whizzes over her head and slams into the vampire she so spectacularly failed to kick. Gritting her teeth, Illyana rolls to her knees and starts to scramble upright. No more messing around trying to save the innocents first, she needs to put the lead vampire down.

And she really, really hopes Rachel didn't see what just happened.

Chaos. It's the one thing that is going on right now. Chaos. Panic. Terror. The vampires have their victims right where they want them, cornered, terrified, and lambs waiting to be slaughtered. The exit doors are closed, there isn't any way out, and there are many vampires eagerly licking their lips in anticipation of what comes next.

Thing is? What comes next is not exactly what the vampires expected, as suddenly the exit doors - and in fact, the entire wall of the building explodes outwards in a powerful telekinetic shove. It creates an enormous cloud of dust in the small area, though when the dust clears, people are running for the safety of the street beyond, and one red-headed telekinetic is hovering just past a fairly destroyed balcony, many different stakes aimed towards the vampires below.

If Rachel noticed Illyana's sudden fall, she doesn't say anything about it, instead her eyes are on those vampires that have been deprived of their prey. "Surrender now, and I wont keep you in place until the sun comes up."
As for Illyana - the head vampire curses in a language that only Illyana (and he) would understand. It is an ancient tongue of demonic hell. He springs towards the blonde sorceress then, talon claws of fingers aimed to do as much harm to her - as possible.

Illyana's only halfway back to her feet when… BOOM! Cursing under her breath, she ducks instinctively and shields her head with an arm sheathed in shining silver armour. Getting smacked in the head by a flying brick is not how she intends this evening to end. There's a moment of comparative stillness while the dust settles, and Illyana peeks past her upraised arm to see Rachel hovering threateningly above the destruction. It's an impressive sight, no doubt, but…

"They're never going to let us in here again." Illyana says under her breath, taking advantage of the momentary lull in hostilities to press her hands against the dancefloor and hop up to her feet.

She probably shouldn't have assumed Rachel had the vampire leader's attention, though, because by the time she's up, he's already springing toward her. And the language…!

"Rude." Illyana tells him, sternly, and a portal snaps open to swallow him. A scream of outraged terror - and a shaft of bright sunlight - emerge from the portal just for a second before it snaps shut again.

Illyana turns smartly on her heel to look at the other vampires being menaced by Rachel. "Your boss just found out that the sun is always up somewhere." She tells them, as thousands of miles away, in the brilliant sunshine over the pacific ocean, a cloud of dust drifts toward the waves. "Who feels like a summer holiday?" Illyana smiles, tilting her head expectantly to one side as if she expects an answer.

Every vampire has their own magic, their own mythos and legends surrounding them. Their own way of doing things. The instant that Illyana defeated the leader of the pact of vampires, they all started screaming in unison. Their distorted faces scrunching upwards, their long, sharp teeth disappearing, their talon claws for hands shifting back. It's a quick, yet painful looking scenario, that even Rachel has to turn her head slightly from, both fascinated by - but repulsed as well.

It only happens for a few seconds, and then the vampires before Illyana and Rachel are no longer vampires, but humans once more. Humans that need to pay for the crimes they committed, but are not nearly as dangerous as they once were.

Scratching her head once, before lowering herself to the ground, Rachel tilts her head towards Illyana. "Well, that was — unexpected. Well done. Next time though, I'd recommend slacks."

A wry, devilish gleam enters Rachel's expression. "The police are on their way, and these guys aren't going anywhere. Maybe we better — go?"

Illyana watches with what appears to be detached professional interest as the vampires scream, and twist, and undergo an undoubtedly painful metamorphosis in reverse. Illyana, it must be said, does not turn her face away while it's happening, and if anything looks slightly disappointed when none of them catch fire, crumble to dust, or do anything more dramatic than revert to not particularly impressive human stock.

As Rachel alights beside her, Illyana glances sidelong at her with a smirk, about to launch into an explanation of what they just witnessed that would be just cryptic enough to suggest that Illyana had much greater knowledge than she was letting on… and her jaw snaps shut with an audible click when Ray makes That Comment. For about a second and a half, Illyana's expression could best be described as a sullen glower, but finally a wry smile breaks through.

"I seem to remember someone told me to dress more like a girl." Illyana reminds Rachel, before adding. "If you tell anyone, we're not friends any more." She narrows her eyes seriously, but with a final smirk she spins away and tells the understandably traumatised clubbers, "You're welcome!"

As a silver-white portal swallows them, Illyana's last words to Rachel are, "I told you it'd be fun."

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