ArchivedLogs:Clorox

Clorox
Dramatis Personae Anette Billy	2015-03-21 "...damn your power sucks."
Location <NYC> Evolve Nightclub - Lower East Side
Accessible up a flight of stairs from the coffee shop below, Evolve's nightclub is only open Thursday-Sunday nights. The bar stretches wide along the back wall, polished dark wood with an abundance of drinks available behind, their selection none too high-end. A balcony overlooks the dance floor, filled with plush black and green couches and armchairs and small black-wood and glass tables between them. The stark white and black walls encourage graffiti, paint markers of all shades hung around the walls by chains. Leaning forward over the balcony with a cocktail glass of clear liquid in his hand, Bleach watches the writhing mass of mutant bodies on the dance floor below. In the space, the antiseptic smell given off by his mutation is harder to pick up on. The other secondary effects, like the whitening off his clothing, are as easy to spot as ever under a beam of black-light. It's a weekend night, when the club is open. Abandoned by the friends for the dance floor, Billy can only watch and pine for the day when he might be able to take part in the fun. Pouting, the young man lets out a woeful sigh and with a white-gloved hand, brings the drink to his lips. Some people enjoy the dancing more than others and tonight, Anette is one of those dancing. Through most of the night, she's danced, grinded, and occasionally made out with a variety of fellow mutants. Taking a break, she makes her way towards the door and sits down. Ordering a drink for herself, she leans up against the bar and watches the dancing on the floor. Someone to her left moves and she suddenly catches a glimpse of some poor soul sitting alone, almost glowing under the lights. She can't help but laugh and is unable to resist the urge to stand and make her way over. Leaning up against the bar next to his seat, Anette takes a sip of a drink. "Long time no see Clorox, buying pretty girls drinks tonight?" Bleach flicks up his perfectly shaped, white eyebrows expectantly only to furrow them in a deep frown once his eyes lock onto Anette's. From behind his thick, white glasses, he stammers for a comeback. "Only-If-The-" He can only produce a few disjointed words until he's forced to forgo wit altogether, "Don't call me that." Anette smirks slightly. "Why not? It suits you. You know, if you ever wanted to get into acting, you could easily make a killing doing commercials for Clorox. Maybe a side job with Mr. Clean. Pinesol. There's a whole world of cleaning products out there." She takes a swig of her drink and ticks her head to the dance floor. "Why aren't you out dancing? Don't tell me you're afraid of everyone else as much as you are of me." "I'm not afraid of you," Billy chirps back a little too quickly. He pauses to fume at the woman before continuing to stammer for a comeback, "Maybe you should get a job with-the-shut up." If his face could redden, it would. "I'll spare you the detailed explanation of my mutation, /Anette./ It's like, probably above and beyond your level of comprehension." Anette ruffles Billy's hair lightly. "Really? I always assumed you were, considering you look like you want to cry when you see me....now I just had an amazing vision of your cry pure bleach. Forget commercials, you should get into art." As Billy insults her intelligence, she pretends to be hurt. "Well that's just cruel. And here I was going to invite you out to the dance floor." Bleach jolts back, but not nearly fast enough to stop his hair from getting messed up. "I do cry pure bleach," he grumbles, setting his drink away to free up both hands to smooth down his hair, "I sweat it, too. So, I'll /pass/." The blonde turns his body to face his drink and pointedly /not/ Anette, "But please, don't let me stop you." "And-I'd-pass-even-if-I-didn't," the Xer adds, obviously proud of himself for thinking of it. One of the barstools besides Bleach empties so Anette takes the opportunity to plant herself. "Hey, I sympathize. Trust me, as much as I love the wings, I hate wearing coats in the middle of August just to hide them. Anyway, why don't I keep you company since you can't go out and dance? I could use the rest." She doesn't seem to mind Billy turn away but it doesn't defer her from facing him. If Billy were capable of downing his drink in a single gulp without gagging, he would. As it so happens, staring down at it, he realizes that there's far too much left in the glass for even an attempt. He doesn't sigh or scoff. He simply remains silent, thins his lips into a straight line, and glances up towards the ceiling as if to check if there is a God. There obviously is not. "Come on, I'm not -that- evil...you don't need to pretend I don't exist. Can't we just have a normal conversation like two friends from school?" Anette sets her drink down and turns to face the dance floor. "So who did you come here with? I assume someone dragged you here. I can't imagine you coming to a club just to sit around since you can't dance." While Anette is looking away, Billy takes the opportunity to steal a glance over at her, "I was supposed to meet friends here, but they bailed." He holds his tongue to spare her feelings, if she has any, even as he has a retort about how they are not two friends from school is locked and loaded. "And I had already gotten a drink." Swiveling, he turns to face the dance floor as well, "And I can dance-" Billy pouts, and shrugs a shoulder, "…just not without burning people." Anette shrugs. "Ah well, it happens. Was one of your friends wasn't a pretty blonde wearing a blue skirt? We met on the dance floor and I...uh, nevermind." Her sudden disinterest in clarifying seems to be for Billy's sake, not her own. "Hey, I believe you. Still...there's got to be a way for you to have fun without blinding people. Wow, if you sweat pure bleach, that rules out a LOT of stuff...damn your power sucks." Billy holds up his drink as if to cheers his old classmate, "At least I don't like, shit owl pellets." By the way his eyes widen and his hand flies to his mouth, he's just as surprised by the comment as anyone could be. He choke-coughs briefly. Anette doesn't seem upset, more annoyed. "Really? That's the best you could do? Of ALL the owl related jokes in the universe, THAT'S the one you chose? Next time, work with molting." She glances over Billy, twisting her her lips as she thinks. "Damn...sorry, just trying to figure out a way for you to...well, not sweat bleach on everyone. Course, you -could- just be careful. Once you feel yourself getting too warm, get out and cool off." "What? That was really good," Billy tilts his head back and forth on his neck, "Anyway, I'm not risking the safety of others just so I can be out there getting all pushed around and bumped into. I'm happier here." He's unconvincing, even to himself. Setting down the still half-full cocktail glass, he moves his hand away from it as if preparing to abandon it, "Anyway, I think I'll just go." Again, the blonde's eyes fall on Anette and he isn't sure what to do or say here. His expression goes flat. "Have a good night." The words feel so unnatural coming out of his mouth, to her, that he half expects to wake up from a dream. "Yeah, take care," Anette says, suddenly turning her head as a blonde woman wearing a blue skirt approaches. Anette grins and stands up, taking the other woman's hand. "Have a good night Clorox," Anette says with a grin and wink as she slips an arm about the blonde's waist and heads in the direction of the stairs. Billy sneer-smiles in response, his bleached teeth glowing blue in the club's light. He makes as if he's going to leave, but when Anette suddenly does, he feels safe relaxing back into his drink.