ArchivedLogs:Girls Night Out

Girls Night Out
Worst Lapdance EVER.
Dramatis Personae MaybeKris, Rasa, Shelby, WaspWomen	2013-06-08 Some X-Teen girls go out. Instead of getting a taxi when they want to go home, they grab a lift. (Part of Them! TP)
Location <NYC> Lower East Side
Historically characterized by crime and immigrant families crammed into cramped tenement buildings, the Lower East Side is often identified with its working-class roots. Today, it plays host to many of New York's mutant poor, although even here they are still often forced into hiding. It has been a good night. Since the girls left Xavier's and headed into New York City, they've had amazing and cheap Asian food, complete with bubble tea and fried rice sticks. They've been to the movies and raided a thrift store to play around with clothes a bit on a completely more manageable budget. Plus, well, Shelby's loaded now, so it's probably pretty rewarding for her to slam some cash down on the counter of places that turned her away before. After galavanting around the city, the girls end up at Evolve during the throng of the weekly Friday night frenzy. They dance and drink, abusing Shelby's new fake id and taking sips from her glass. Rasa does not have much as ze cannot handle much, but Kris finds a way to get totally sloshed despite her mooching situation. In fact, it's Kris's situation that seems to draw the night to a close, as the trio of teenagers leave the club in the early, EARLY morning hours, to start guiding their inebriated and stumbling friend to their crash pad of the night. Rasa stands to Kris's right, her right arm over hir shoulders, protected from contact with hir skin by the translucent, gauzy shirt ze wears over the halternecked almost shirt ze wears underneath. It's more of a panel, to be honest, a vivd blue silk brocade with a mandarin collar around hir neck and draw strings keeping the panel secured over hir chest in the front. Hir legs are covered in loose black pants, with one of hir disguising shawls wrapped around hir waist in a slightly more seductive fashion. Ze has another one around hir neck, protecting hir from exposure to Kris's drunken form. "You think we should call a cab? She's going to get heavy." Shelby raided the twins’ for this event. From B’s she took the rainbow sparkle dress he’d worn to the dance; from Shane a white button-up that she could knot over her breastbone, to bring the tone down to casual to match her beat up sneakers. No fancy shoes tonight! And it’s a good thing too, or she might be having trouble supporting the much taller Kris. “She already /is/ heavy,” Shelby complains. Oof. “Yeah...lemme...get my fucking...phone...” One hand shifts from Kris to cleavage, patting around until she find’s the phone tucked therein. Numbers are dialed, the earpiece pressed to her head. “...hey, need a pick up at Evolve...” Rasa looks around quietly while Shelby is calling, one half of hir mouth diving deep into hir cheek as ze looks thoughtful. Eventually, ze waves with hir free hand guiding them over to a nearby bus stop and working with Shelby to settle Kris down and free themselves from her weight. Rasa scooches a few feet away and starts stretching hir shoulders to work them out, rolling hir neck to, turning to Kris and Shelby as a slow, tipsy smile finally finding its place on hir face once more. Ze is still gray, hir mind still preoccupied with the disappearance of hir person, but ze is not brooding. No, ze is dancing slowly to the thumping music they can still hear outside the club. It's certianly MUCH quieter than inside, but it's there, inspiring movement. "Mmmm. Thanks for coming out with me." Once the call has been made, Shelby shoves the phone back into her bra and helps with the Kris-wrestling. She’s showing /much/ less from their night out, but her grin is a sweet and easy thing, quick to appear, prone to linger. There are few things dancing won’t cure. “Aww shit, you don’t have to say thanks.” She flops down on the bench beside Kris to help keep her upright. “I think we /all/ needed that. S’good to get out, y’know?” Shelby tilts her head back until it’s resting on the glass barrier, then closes her eyes. The smile lingers. “Should do this regular.” "Hmmmm. Yes. Probably. Yes. Definitely. Summer's going to have a lot of free time. I'm taking a full class load, but it's still the stupid requirement classes, so I don't think it'll be too taxing." Ze runs hir fingers through hir hair to shake it loose and capture some of the night air in the waves. Ze then begins to twist it up at the back of hir head. "You got a hair tie?" And then ze is distracted, tilting hir head upwards to look at the different neon lights up and down the street. "Still - Thanks. Anyway. I still don't actually feel like I'm relaxed, but well, I had to get some energy out." “Jax is getting me an apprenticeship. Tattooing. It’s gonna be fucking amazing, I could get course credits for it /and/ get money.” Shelby peels loose an elastic from her wrist and offers it over. “Every class oughta be that way, y’know? Where you /do/ instead of just sit there drooling. It’d make learning easier. I bet I’d get all As.” She settles back against the barrier and reaches up, picking at a torn bit of advertisement. She’s probably a label peeler too. “I don’t think you get /real/ relaxed with all this shit happening. But it’s better than banging your head against a wall.” "I have had so much head-wall banging lately," Rasa agrees, accepting the tie and pulling hir hair up once more, tying it back so there are only a few whispy bits falling around hir face, and that, most likely, is because ze is drunk. "You realize, the last time I went drinking was when Peter went missing. It's kind of nice to drink /after/ the bad news, not before. It's a stress relief, not a... um... big, nasty thing that keeps me from thinking properly in crisis." and then ze is swaying a bit, dancing will soon follow. "Awesome job opportunity. I'd offer to let you practice tattooing on me, but I'm not sure it would work out all that well. I mean, I'm relatively sure I can keep a tattoo, but what if my skin just keep stretching and changing and I don't notice because it's all unmarked right now, but if I got a circle or something, it could turn into a blob or a star or a droopy mess in a matter of days, because -- think about it. The skin that's on my face today, could be on my ass tomorrow." And thusly, the metamorph rambles drunkenly. "Got any cigarettes?" Shelby slumps down on the bench, stretching a toe out to try to reach the opposite barrier. It proves fruitless; her legs are too short. “I could give you a fake one for awhile if you want. I got a few here,” she says as she straightens up, gesturing to her covered midriff. “Fix it whenever you went swirly.” The request for cigarettes leads her to pull the front of her dress out again. Fishing around produces a sweat-soft hard pack of Marlboros. There are only a few smokes left inside, rattling around with a lighter. “You should try pot next. It’s a serious buzz. All mellow.” "Aww, Shelby, are you promising to be in my life for the rest of my life?" Rasa grins pleasantly and accepts the box from Shelby, drawing out a cigarette and the lighter. "You're sweet, but that's a long term commitment. And, with the way our lives seem to be going, a little bit... well, I don't know. I think I'll stick with your needless handiwork." Ze sticks the cigarette between hir lips and cups the box in hir hand as ze lights it, handing both the cigarette and the lighter back to Shelby. "Hmm. Maybe pot. I don't know. That last buzz I got from Megan was pretty weird and I don't know. Not really all that mellow." “Any time,” Shelby says as she fishes out her own smoke. The pack is tossed onto the bench beside her before she lights it up. “I heard her shit’s pretty good too but yeah, not like pot. Gonna have to try to corner her and shake her like Tinkerbell, see what all the fuss is about.” This is confided with the naughtiest of grins. As she breathes out a plume of smoke, she gives Kris a nudge--just to make sure she’s still breathing. “Man, she’s gonna have a helluva headache tomorrow.” "We'll just let her sleep as long as she needs to, maybe open her mouth and coax fluids in so she doesn't get too dehydrated." And if they drown her, then she'll never be hungover. "Anyway, nothing more sleep and some painkillers can't fix." Ah, the simple things in life. Rasa takes a deep pull off hir cigarette and watches the cloud lift up into the street light's glow. "So, did we cramp your style or did you pick up any hot dates tonight?" Shelby’s lips quirk around the filter of the cigarette. She breathes in, breathes out, watches the smoke curl up to the roof of the shelter and then slide free to escape for the sky. “Nah, wasn’t looking to get picked up. Think I’ll head to Hive’s, maybe. Sleep over. We’re supposed to hit the beach tomorrow. S’gonna be nice. Maybe even better than dancing. Hey, you got a bathing suit? I don’t have one yet.” "Don't know what you see in the guy," Rasa admits quietly, ashing and looking down. "Yeah, he's okay, but he's damnably cranky sometimes. I mean, sure, he apologized for fucking me over and putting me in the medbay and pretty much frying all my powers, but it was a … not very apologetic apology, you know? One of those that comes after a big explanation about how fucked up the universe is and yeah, it's shitty you got shit on too, kind of things. Maybe he was just depressed." Annnd Rasa talks hirself out of being annoyed with him. "Yeah, so I don't know. He was depressed. I didn't see anything so awesome. Then again, I suppose you don't see what I like about Ivan." At the mention of the name, Rasa turns back to hir cigarette and really focuses on it, first the glowing tip, then the filter end, and finally, the feel of the smoke entering hir lungs as ze looks up toward the neon lights again. "I don't have a swim suit. Haven't had one in years. Not since some stupid boardshorts in the 4th grade, I think. If i get one, maybe it'll be frilly. They used to make really cute skirted ones. I haven't seen any online that are worth the money. Why are swimsuits so expensive?" Ze glances over at Kris again. "Man. We're talking clothes and she's still out. She is going to hate us in the morning." “/I’m/ kinda cranky sometimes,” Shelby points out. “And if he said sorry, he meant it. I mean, like...he doesn’t...usually say shit like that.” Her expression shades more thoughtful with another drag on the cigarette. “I guess he’s...y’know...the things Ivan does that make you feel different from everyone? In a good way? Hive’s like that, with me.” But she doesn’t elaborate on /which/ things he does. Just bends forward to stub out the smoke. “Shit, yeah, if she was awake we could maybe talk her into putting some suits on her card.” "Annnd... yeah. That. Or we could just go back to the not-thrift store. The namebrands for less store?" Surely Shelby knows the one, that has clothing. Rasa's brain might be a little tired, a little drunk, and a little drunk for conversation. "I think I saw a cute little crochet number that was brown with flowers woven in. You don't think... it'd be weird for me to wear a bikini? I mean. Well, I don't know." The way ze stops talking, the way that ze shifts around again, perhaps there is something more to this thought that isn't vocalized. Ze finishes hir cigarette and crushes it under foot. "I have some allowance. I didn't spend it all on that dress for Sebastian." Which he didn't even wear! Alas, the rainbow one was much cuter. "I could take us shopping if it isn't too much money." The evening has gone very well indeed. Especially from ABC's point of view. Azalea, Blossom and Camellia have been tracking the three girls for most of the night. They knew the burqa costumes wouldn't get them into the clubs, but they didn't need to go /in/. They were content to wait outside. They were relatively sure following Rasa's scent, but they wanted to make sure. They weren't /kidnappers/ after all. It wouldn't be kidnapping if Ivan wanted them. It was just… like a car service. A pick up! And then Rasa mentions Ivan by name - the Chosen One! SQUEE! The three approach the bus stop, walk around the side, and pretend to read the schedule for a moment. Then they further pretend not to see the girls sitting there, and each burqa form /accidentally/ sits in one of the girls' laps. They hop back up, pretending to be surprised, comical hand-over-masked-mouth-expression. But already, each of the girls feels like they were pricked with a pin in the thigh, and the sleepiness is washing over each of them already. “Why would it be weird for you to wear a bikini? I bet /Bastian/ wears a bikini if he wants to and he doesn’t even have to cover anything up.” Shelby is in the process of glancing sidelong at that pack of cigarettes--does she want another? If she lights one, will the cab come? Does she want to /hurry/ the cab into arriving?--when suddenly the little rest stop is filled with BODIES and FABRIC. Losing sight of Rasa isn’t of immediate concern, but someone sitting on her and Kris? Oh hell yes. “What the flying /fuck/!” she has time to say. Then the woozy hits and she’s in the act of reaching for her boobs--phone’s there, natch--when woozy becomes limp and limp becomes unconsciousness. "Woah, woah, lady!" Rasa is reaching up to try and keep the burqa clad woman from sitting on hir in the first place. Hands come up first to let the person know that ze is there, and then when that person keeps /trying/ to sit, ze begins to actually grip her by the hips and push her away. Of course, it's too late, and then there's that 'prick.' Rasa tries to shove her off as ze get to hir feet, stumbling clumsily forward as the venom begins to take affect. Fingers dig into the burqa, pulling at it, trying to drag whoever is underneath it down with hir. "Shit." {It's ok, they'll} {thank us when we're} {all together.} The one assigned to Rasa herself (Azalea of course, the oldest), struggles and goes down in a heap with the fading girl. Once Rasa is finally unconscious however, Azalea is able to struggle to her feet and straighten her robes. She nods at the other two, who each quite deftly haul a girl up with arms around shoulders, like drunk friends helping each other. Blossom, the tallest, got Kris, but is still short enough that she's struggling. But when they reach the cover of darkness in a nearby alleyway, they shed the burqas and turn their respective charges to a hug position. Once everyone is securely in place, each wasp flexes her wings, and takes to the air. Ivan will be so pleased!