<div class="floatleft">(http://i1105.photobucket.com/albums/h357/daniellex28/sddasda%20copy_zpsdi1usvki.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Olivia Moretz (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=250173.msg12404589#msg12404589)<br/><strong>City | Date | Time:</strong>Las Vegas | October 28, 2014 | 07:12 AM<br/><strong>Tagging | Mentioning:</strong>Jason Aaron Vandel (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=250173.msg12382263#msg12382263)<br/><strong>Content:</strong>Starting Early<br/><hr/><br/>The outskirts of Vegas were a hustle and bustle, especially this close to Halloween. People paraded the streets into the dead of night and into the early morning, and because of that it was no major surprise that even this close to sunrise, drunkards and stragglers still roamed the streets, albeit in sparse amount. The Strip was a lovely place during the night, and even throughout the day it retained a cliche sort of charm. Not that Olivia often ventured into the throbbing heart of the city, with all its splendour and temptation. The<em>Thick as Thieves</em>, the tattoo parlour that had offered her a - severely underpaid - position as an apprentice was a place on the up-and-coming, but the owner, Sage, could not afford a place too close to the centre. Olivia hardly minded, in fact, she preferred her work in the second-rate half of Vegas, where the locals lingered and tourists with more of a thirst for adventure travelled. The crowds that swarmed the smaller streets were less of the shorts and I-Heart-Vegas type and more....well, more like her, at least a little.<br/><br/>Although of course not really<em>like</em>her.<br/><br/>In the soft light of the rising sun, promising another day filled with late Fall heat, Liv padded across one of the lower rooftops with soundless steps. Travelling in this style had been something she'd had to grow accustomed to, but she found that with every passing day it had become more and more second nature, to the point where she preferred it. It was a treat, a guilty pleasure, even somewhat of an addiction that she would have trouble staying away from. Olivia was fairly sure that she couldn't if she tried; from the moment her powers had begun to manifest they had felt much like an extension of herself, an integral part of her that she would die without. Olivia had kept tabs on any news story about the mutated people that kept popping up all over the world. They were extreme stories, heartfelt stories and often ones filled with disdain over the freaklike creatures that randomly spawned seemingly from out of nowhere. She'd heard of people that could fly, people who could read minds or set objects on fire. There had been a girl with the strength to lift a school bus filled with children and a man who could crush metal plates just by looking at them. Compared to that, she supposed, changing into a cat and traversing the canopy of rooftops that littered this desert city was hardly too impressive. Of course, changing into feline creatures wasn't all that Liv did. It simply happened to be the shape she most gladly resorted to; a comfort form of sorts, she supposed. Which was a bit odd, since her mind surely was capable of something far less mundane, and considering her rather wild lifestyle, the common housecat didn't really fit her. And yet it was her favourite all the same; a black little alley cat with cushiony feet and remarkably green eyes that looked just slightly too human, too intelligent as they took in the world around her.<br/><br/>Not that prancing about Vegas was something she easily got away with; tourism was by far the main source of income of the people working in the most famous city in Nevada and local authorities tolerated little room for pests, be they rats or birds or strays or superhumans in hiding. But Vegas was a wonderful hiding place for Evolved and Olivia was convinced she had met several of them throughout her stay here so far, even if she refused to 'out' herself to anyone but her friend Alex. Most of them hid in the exotic exuberance of the theater shows, which greatly facilitated their ability to stand in the spotlight without standing out in the wrong ways. She kind of envied that; Liv was proud of what she was capable of and oh, how amazing it would be if she could freely utilize what God - well, not<em>God</em>- had given her.<br/><br/>She was prone to adopting her feline shape as she headed to work, although work, for the past week and a half, had been in a place a stone's throw away from the tattoo shop she was so fond of. An inventive businessman and a bit of a visionary had come parading into the parlour one day to ask about one of the designs he'd seen in the front window. It had been one of Olivia's latest sketches and he had praised her talent and insisted that she come and do a lifesize mural in the VIP room of his new casino, which was set to open somewhere in the next few months. The money he offered was substantial, and with Sage's approval it had been an easy choice to make. Which was why Olivia Moretz made her way every morning to the building, sometimes as the young woman she was, using the main door, and sometimes as a black house cat, with far more inventive ways of entering the premises.<br/><br/>There was usually a window open in the rooms above the casino. It was a bold building, both outside and inside and Olivia was convinced that when it was finished, the place would be a sight to see. For now the upper floors were still very much in need of renovation though, and as the nimble creature hopped up onto the fire escape, it wasn't long before she'd found a window still cracked open. With her paw she pushed against the creaking wood, then leaned her body weight against it altogether. It wasn't so much that Liv was stronger than an ordinary cat; she simply had an understanding of the workings of things that normal animals didn't possess. She managed to wedge her way in and then she stood in what she assumed had once been a conference room of sorts, though it was now just another dust-covered area with threadbare carpet and a couple of dodgy looking paintings on the wall. Which was still relatively decent; Liv had seen the amount of graffiti that littered some of the adjacent rooms upstairs. Charles Pontiff seemed to care little about the  upstairs for now though; he insisted that he would be raking in the money with his one of a kind casino below, and the rest could wait. You know, for as far as you<em>could</em>have a one of a kind casino in the gambling capital of the world.<br/><br/>The place was still utterly abandoned. As per the rules, building work didn't start until eight and even then, most of the loud stuff had been done it seemed. Crossing from upstairs to the ground below was a strange paradox from abandoning hell to descend into the heavens. The ground floor, even in its unfinished state, was absolutely glorious. You didn't even need to love gambling to admire the long rows of slot machines, the pristine blackjack tables and the still covered roulette wheel. The vast room carried a tall, domed roof ornamented with pale wooden carvings, while the walls were light with golden details and a smooth, polished stone floor of intricate swirling patterns that were mesmerizing to see. Feline Liv meandered through the heart of it, crossing the very center of the room. The name of the casino itself was embedded into the floor in a circular pattern.<em>The Black Dragon</em>, a name that almost made you expect Chinese decor and a stoic Asian with a long wispy beard for an owner. But Charles Pontiff was born and bred in the US of A and he was a businessman through and through. Just one with a very specific taste, a taste that he wasn't afraid to show in this, his most recent project.<br/><br/>Liv continued out of the main area and into an adjacent room, one that was separated from the main area by two grand, cherry wooden doors with dark copper handles. It wasn't difficult to envision two broad men in immaculate suits flanking the doorway, ready to offer entrance to anyone special -or rich- enough to be allowed in. And indeed, the VIP room was a thing of extravagant splendor; a beautiful meeting of modern and classical tastes. Here the big money would be won and lost, and it was here that Olivia Moretz was to bring life to her special project. Drawing was her work, her hobby, her inspiration in life and the very thing that kept her going when things were rough. That she was able to make a living off the very thing she loved doing above anything else was a dream come true, and although this was nothing like designing tattoos in the studio, she loved her current freelance job all the same. Maybe even more.<br/><br/>She didn't hesitate as she padded along the right side of the room, leaving the bar, the gambling tables and lounge area for what they were and ventured over to her own little working space. The tall windows here were as of yet uncovered, and long streaks of warm morning light littered the floor, creating sharp contrasts of dark and light inside the room. It was an artist's worst nightmare, but  facing the wall upon which she had been painting for the past three days stood three lights, specifically brought in to facilitate Olivia's work. The main wall was the eye catcher of the room, and it wasn't difficult to tell, even in its unfinished state, that the girl had been working on painting the very creature that had given the casino its name. The dragon curled wildly along the wall, dark and imposing, with vast wings and widowed eyes that gazed upon the people below. It was framed by further wooden carvings, creating a look so unique that Olivia wished she could take the whole thing home with her and stick it on the bedroom wall of the apartment she shared with a friend.<br/><br/>Upon arriving at her work spot, Liv abandoned the form with which she had entered the casino. Shape shifting was something that drew upon her energy levels, ultimately forcing her to abandon it after a certain amount of time, but her catlike features came so easy to her nowadays that they barely required any effort to maintain. It was a gradual, though very smooth change as she grew from the furry black creature, standing on the ground on all fours to the standing young woman that she was in day to day life; slender, fair-haired and with eyes that, though usually brown, now still retained that malachite hue that she had carried as a cat. The transition took mere seconds, and as the girl uprighted herself into a two-footed stance she slowly brushed her long blond tresses back, briefly peering down at her body. The nudity of her physical form was something she was far from ashamed of, but she was sure that when mister Pontiff arrived - and he always arrived at seven thirty sharp-  he would be somewhat shocked to witness his temporary employee decorating his casino in the nude. Shape shifting didn't much allow for carrying clothes, which is why she always left a sports bag inside the VIP room, one that, as always, stood propped up against the frame of one of the spot lights. She crouched down beside it, retrieving a sand colored dress with a pattern of blossoms upon it from inside, and with routine ease Liv slipped it on, not bothering too much with anything  other than a pair of ballerinas.<br/><br/>A noise emanated from the front of the casino, and Olivia jumped at the sudden sound, confused for a moment. Was Charles early? It didn't seem like him, which begged to question what the reason for it was. Curiously Olivia turned away from the beckon of her paint supplies, expectantly regarding the doorway instead. She barely even noticed the motion in her peripheral; a subtle shift in the odd shadows, caused by the morning sunlight. It took her a whole second to realize the familiarity of the figure that stood on the far end of the room, far away, and by the time her mind and conscious thought pieced together that she wasn't alone in the room, Charles Pontiff had come barging into the area as well, a generous smile on his face.<br/><br/>"Good morning, Olivia!" he beamed, spreading his arms wide as he approached. "Early as always, and I didn't expect any less!"  He approached the girl without hesitation, giving her a warm clasp upon the shoulder before turning to look at the very sight that had the girl in a catatonic hold. She was staring ahead, towards the bar where a man stood, returning her gaze with an expression that she couldn't quite place. She barely took notice of the casino owner, her eyes all but fixated on the man ahead. "I see you've already met mister Vandel. He just flew in from Albany to come and see what we've been up to in here."<br/><br/>To those words, Olivia finally managed to tear herself away from the sight of the stranger, and with slowly blinking eyes she shifted her attention to the casino owner. "What we've been up to..?" she repeated slowly, confoundedly. Charles laughed.<br/><br/>"The lights, dear child!" he explained in that peculiar patronizing way that she had not yet learned to appreciate. Charles Pontiff stepped away from the girl, crossing the room to get to the man - mister Vandel - instead. "Those works of art you've been fawning over ever since you set foot in here? Well, Jason here is the one who designed them, and now that they're all up he's come to admire his craftsmanship in all its glory. And you love it, don't you Jason?" he said amicably. Jason was treated to a - far less gentle - slap on the shoulder as well. "Yup," Charles sighed contently, "This is going to be a place of beauty."<br/>