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| Ball and Chain -- Scott's Bachelor Party; [Scott, Warren and the rest of the party | |
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| Topic Started: Jan 19 2008, 10:27 AM (514 Views) | |
| Havok | Jan 19 2008, 10:27 AM Post #1 |
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Superheated Plasma Blasts
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Time of day: 8 pm Place in the time-line February 13th, the night before Scott and Jean's Wedding There was something to be said for having Warren Worthington as the best man for your wedding. He did the bachelor party in style. Alex had been the one to get Scott prepared for this event, while Warren made the arrangements. Scott was understandably uncomfortable with the party plans. He was not a man accustomed to a lot of fuss being made over him, but he was, however, going to have to suck it up, his younger brother told him. After all, this was his last night of freedom, no matter how much he had been lonely when he was 'free.' So, Scott had, at last, accepted that he was not only going to have a great time, but that he was going to be drinking too much, partying too hard, and ogling too many women. It all sounded great to Alex, frankly. It was such a natural normal human thing to do that Alex was excited about it. So, after they had all had one warm up beer at home before this all began, and the party had headed for the heart of Manhattan, for first dinner at Robert's Steakhouse that included a special menu prepared for them by Chefs Adam Perry Lang and Jayson Margulies, commission by Warren for this occasion, and then, up the private elevator to the Penthouse Executive Club. The entertainment complex, which normally held up to 400 guests had been rented out at no small expense by Warren, so the small group of mutant men were the sole focus of attention by the lovely ladies and the night club staff. On all three of the stages in the two story atrium, barely dressed woman moved seductively and gracefully. These were not strippers, they weren't lap dancers, they weren't call girls, though they did do any and all of those three upon request. No, they were something more, and the Penthouse was not mutant unfriendly. One of the girls had skin that shone like burnished bronze, as smooth and polished as a work of art. Another cloaked herself in illusionary wisps of cloth that swooped around her in teasing patterns that revealed only what she wanted when she wanted. Scott, center of attention, was clearly overwhelmed, but he could not help but have a good time. He watched the ladies dancing and his thoughts were on his bride to be, which he supposed was against the rules of the party, but he couldn't help it. As gorgeous as they were, not one of them was as beautiful as Jean, not one of them could hold a candle to her. He tipped his scotch to his lips to hide his smile. Alex, however, caught it and said, "Scott! Bad Bachelor! No, thinking about Jean." Scott opened his mouth to protest his false innocence, but Alex wasn't fooled. "Nothing else brings that sappy grin to your face, Big Bro. Now, you start drooling over these sexy ladies or I am going to have to buy you a lap dance." On the other side of the table, Pietro Maximoff watched the spectacle with an appraising silver blue gaze. This was not a celebration like any he was familiar with. Festivities with strangers were not how his people commemorated their important occasions, but these girls were indeed fascinating to watch. They didn't dance like his lovely sister, but that was perhaps a benefit in this case. He thought of Wanda and said to Alex, "I should go and check on my sister, I think. She is not used to American traditions, yet." "What, am I a babysitter now?" Alex threw his arms up in frustration, "Someone please, help me. Piet, you are going nowhere. Wanda is fine. Everyone is fine. We're having a good time here, and none of you horrible bashful bastards are going to spoil it." He tossed back a shot, and signaled for another round for the table. This was going to be a long night, and they had a long way to go before they rested. Penthouse Executive Club *warning: scantily clad women on this site. |
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| Orbital | Jan 21 2008, 12:37 AM Post #2 |
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Unregistered
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On the upside, at least poor Alex wasn't alone in keeping this party rowdy. Having two older brothers meant that Roy, even for his younger age, had been to his fair share of peeler bars -- though, despite the wealth of his family, none were as upscale as this. Normally smooth, composed, and with that razor wit, it wasn't hard to see that Roy no doubt had his wild side, too. He dressed accordingly for the night, as per Warren's guidelines -- a damn nice light-gray pinstriped suit, complete with a matching fedora and undervest. Slick and outfitted to the nines. If you're not travelling in style, you're not travelling. With a tall double rum & coke in his hand, he watched the girls dance and shimmy with a light, borderline sleazy sort of smirk, casting his fair share of glances and winks -- and getting a few back himself. If there was indeed a heaven, it would be someplace like this. Only with cheaper booze. Kohl eyes glanced over to Alex, as his brows lifted from the rising tone of Havok's voice -- and the minor dispute there within. "What, am I a babysitter now?" Alex threw his arms up in frustration, "Someone please, help me. Piet, you are going nowhere. Wanda is fine. Everyone is fine. We're having a good time here, and none of you horrible bashful bastards are going to spoil it." The whole sight drew a bit of a smile on Roy's rugged features -- and he made his way closer to the others, giving a passing pat on Havok's shoulder to assure him he had some backup here. A pointed finger to Piet, and he smirked a bit. "You. Stay there," he said, before standing a bit closer to the silver-haired mutant. "Because American chicks dig exotic, European men." He waved his arms, to overemphasize his words. "Can't get enough of them, so you stay put and enjoy the show." "Scott! Bad Bachelor! No, thinking about Jean." Scott opened his mouth to protest his false innocence, but Alex wasn't fooled. "Nothing else brings that sappy grin to your face, Big Bro. Now, you start drooling over these sexy ladies or I am going to have to buy you a lap dance." A laugh rose from Roy at that comment -- and he shook his head. "Here, let me see if I can help," he uttered, sipping his drink before slipping away to the side -- and to a particularly stacked, lingerie-clad blonde about to head on stage. He only talked with the girl for a brief bit of time, but it was enough to gain a nod and a naughty sort of smile -- and Roy, with a similar half-devious smile on his face, made his way back over to his senior X-Man mentor. An arm, just by his shoulder -- and his hand pat the side of his cheek lightly, holding a hundred dollar bill just in front of Scott's face. "Bite down lightly, please," he mentioned, clearly and politely, a slightly more forceful pat enough to drop Scott's open mouth of innocence on the money to hold it somewhat firmly. And before any effort could be made to protest, Roy backed away with a grin -- as that blonde slipped on stage, eying Scott as she stripped away that excuse for a lace bra -- and, leaning in, gave him a facewash of double D's, conveniently lifting away the money in the process. And as she crawled back with a sultry wink, Roy gave a grin, hand on Scott's shoulder again, downing another sip of his drink. "How's your memory now, friend?" He joked a bit, before looking back at the girl with a faint waggle in his heavy brows. "Because mine hit the dusty trail a good three hours ago, personally." |
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| Cyclops | Jan 21 2008, 06:31 AM Post #3 |
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Punches from the Punch Dimension
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He'd been to bachelor parties before. Hell, he had even arranged one, considering he had been Jonathan's best man, and that was certainly an experience for him. After all, Scott Summers was not known to be a wild party animal, but there was a responsibility that went with being the best man, and like anything else, Scott was a strategist. He'd researched and made phone calls and scouted mutant friendly locales, though nothing like The Penthouse here, and the party had gone well, everybody having a good time. It made him miss Jon, suddenly, their lost friend on his thoughts since the incident at Christmas time, especially during all this time, the wedding preparations, helping Jean deal with her own attendants, dealing with his... He smiled as he did another shot, and suddenly Roy was there. Scott did not want to put that filthy bill in his mouth, but he'd promised to be a good sport about all this, to do what they said. Alex laughed, clearly knowing what Roy had planned, so Scott, after shooting his hyena of a brother a look of feigned exasperation, bit down and waited for what was obviously coming. The woman Roy brought over was huge-breasted and fair, no signs of mutation, not that it mattered to Scott really. This was all in fun, right? Fun for who exactly? The girl gyrated on his lap in a way that was poised and sexy and thankfully impersonal, and she took the bill in a way that defied description. Roy was not a fool, and had apparently mentioned that Scott losing his glasses would be a bad thing, because the girl was very very cautious not to dislodge them, with her... attentions. When at last the music ended, and she slipped off his lap, her treasure secured, she leaned forwards and kissed him lightly on the lips, "Congratulations, Scotty," she said, with a pouty pucker, "She's a lucky girl." "I'm the lucky one," Scott said, as Alex passed him another shot. The dancer smiled and gave a wink, before looking at the other men at the table, "Get him more alcohol. He's still got nothing but his wifey on his mind." She wiggled away, joining the girl who was currently dancing on the center stage, kissing her deeply before joining her in a bump and grind. Scott hefted his shot to Roy, and tipped it back. |
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| Hank McCoy | Jan 22 2008, 02:14 AM Post #4 |
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Unregistered
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Hank McCoy was not usually late for functions. Usually. That being said, if he got too caught up in an experiment, there was no telling when the massive man would emerge from his lab. This time, thankfully, he was only about half an hour late for the party, driving up to the building in his rather cramped car. Not that the car was cramped. Oh, no, it was the roomiest sort of car that anyone could find. It was that Hank was too large for any sort of car, roomy or not. A valet was waiting there, looking bored out of his mind as he leaned against the building. While Hank was generally uneasy of these employees, he was running late and obviously he couldn't just leave his car there in the street. So, with a grunt as he wiggled out of the tight car, Hank handed the keys over and straightened his tie. After all, they had said it was a party. Hank was even wearing his image inducer, though it was on the fritz and kept flickering, giving glimpses of blue fur and claws every so often. He sighed again, clawed hand going up once more to fool with his tie as he started inside. At the end of the elevator ride, though, he had to raise an eyebrow. Was this really Scott's party? He edged around a particularly...busty...woman, keeping his eyes straight ahead as he made his way towards Scott and the others. "Er...the architecture here is quite nice." Hank rumbled, letting his gaze drift over the room. One hand clasped Scott's in a brotherly handshake. "Congratulations, O Fearless Leader. I believe you were meant for each other from the very first day." Then, about to lapse into a Shakespearian quote, Hank stopped himself, a little sheepish. But the real reason was that a woman was approaching him, hips swaying seductively as she looked to him wickedly. Hank gulped audibly, and stumbled upwards from the bar stool that it nearly toppled. "Er...I...shall be in the restroom...er...combing my fur." |
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| Wolverine | Jan 22 2008, 01:58 PM Post #5 |
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Unregistered
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This was just too much. Scott Summers playing naughty, how exactly did that happen? Logan watched the entire scene from just behind the husband-to-be, out of the way, yet close enough to hear what was being said, able to be heard should he choose to speak. Scott wasn’t the only one with one woman on his mind;; there may have been a time when dancing scantily clad women would have at least gotten a raised eyebrow and a smirk from him… now, he couldn’t care less, and completely understood why Hank needed to excuse himself to the bathroom. He considered following the blue doctor, but to leave Remy in a room full of… women, even if his affections were taken by one Lou Tringum, well, that was just asking for trouble. The guy just couldn’t help himself, rather comfortable as another young brunette did a similar dance to what the blonde had just done for Cyclops, red-on-black eyes glowing, emphasizing exactly how much he was enjoying this party. Truly, he was glad he’d been talked into coming to it. Not knowing Scott and Jean that well gave the Cajun pause to think that perhaps he wouldn’t be on the top of the invite list. Turned out he was wrong. “Hey, Scott, the Cajun’s stealin yer limelight,” Logan called, smirking. Taking the beer offered to him, Wolverine chuckled lightly to himself. There was one thing that made him stand out from mostly everyone else in the room;; he could drink way more alcohol than them before it started to affect him even slightly and, he was so going to take advantage of that well known fact. It wasn’t often the beer was free, and offered in such quantity too. |
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| Warren Worthington | Jan 22 2008, 08:39 PM Post #6 |
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Unregistered
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JP between Warren and Amber [played by Ari] Warren rested on booted foot one the low table in front of him and shifted slightly in his seat, trying to move his weight off his tightly bound wings. The seating was kind of conducive to lounging against the back which was great, unless you were hiding large wings underneath your clothing. He would never complain about the harness because it allowed him to move around freely in public and his wings were flexible enough to fit in the harness but that didn't mean it wasn't uncomfortable. The fact that he was thinking about his wings rather than anything else was enough to convince him that he needed far more to drink, and he reached over to the tray of shots and downed one quickly. Downside of having a healing factor was that drinking wasn't quite as effective anymore but at least his wasn’t even nearly on a level with Logan’s. He watched as Roy moved over to talk to one of the dancers and he wondered what he was up to. Moments later he and the dancer returned, and Roy stuck the bill in Cyclops’ mouth. Realisation dawned on Warren and he just about managed to keep from laughing and choking on his drink. He doubted this had ever happened to Scott as all Warren’s attempts to get him to come to place like this in their youth had proved completely in effective. That was one of the main reasons he had decided on this place, after a lot of scheming with Alex and they’ve both agreed Scott needed a huge send off into married life. His friend seemed to be enjoying things so far and the fact that he was still thinking about Jean was no surprise but with a bit more alcohol hopefully he’d loosen up some more. A tall, broad fellow joined the party and Amber, a leggy auburn-haired dancer, decided that this was the right opportunity to head towards the group of men. For the past while, she’d been writhing and dancing rhythmically on stage, by herself, because she was good enough that she didn’t need to work with the other women to get excellent tips. Using her sexiest walk, she began sauntering towards the man, a devious grin that usually worked with most men slipping onto her full lips. But it seemed that this tall fellow was not ‘most men’…and he ran. Amber, a seasoned pro, did not let her dismay reach her features. Instead, she let out an easy laugh and looked towards the other men, one dark-haired blonde in particular catching her eye. Ah, the big spender. She’d had her sights set on him from the very beginning, aware that it had been him that was renting the place out for the night. Such a feat was not a cheap thing to accomplish. Of course, like with any bit of information that wandered the club, Amber was in the know. The dancers had all gossiped about the handsome businessman, and the auburn-haired woman was intent on landing him. Was she a gold-digger? Most likely, but that didn’t bother her one bit. She had nice things and lived in a classy apartment. Why get an office job when she could be dancing, something she absolutely loved, for money. Grinning at Warren, she said in a sultry tone, “Someone should tell your friend I don’t bite… much.” Slinking towards the arm on his chair, she draped herself over it, crossing her legs and smiling down at him. He was even better-looking up close and Amber couldn’t help the flare of pleasure that sprang up in her stomach. When you had to do this with overweight old men on a constant basis, having a hot late-twenties guy was a definitely welcome change. Extending a dainty hand, she gave him her best smile, “I’m Amber.” Twirling a strand of her highlighted hair, she leaned down to talk intimately into his ear, “So, what do you like to do for fun? “Hank. Glad you could join us.” Warren said with a grin, as the man appeared, his inducer hiding the blue fur and claws and leaving a rather imposing figure in it’s place. He smirked as he watched Hank stumble off to the bathroom as a auburn haired woman approached him. He covered a laugh, not wanting to be too obvious at his friends expense. His attention was momentarily taken by something Logan said and when he turned back the attractive blonde dancer was practically on top of him. “He’s just shy. Wait until he gets a few drinks down him, and he’ll be up there on the stage with you.” he said, nodding towards the stage she’d previously been dancing on, letting her know he’d noticed her before. To him at least, she was the hottest of all the dancers, she’d stood out from the start. He took her hand as she offered it to him, his larger hand closing around slender fingers as he kissed the back of her hand. “It’s nice to meet you Amber, I’m Warren” he said, giving her a charming smile as he gently released her hand. She moved to speak to him, and Warren leaned in a little bit, the smell of her perfume surrounding him. He was flirting a little, but these things happened at Bachelor parties, and he knew where the line was. Ari meant a lot to him, but that didn’t mean every other woman became unattractive to him, just as he was knew she was probably attracted to other men. Realising his thoughts had strayed, he only half heard the dancer’s question and it registered belatedly. “For fun? A bit of everything really. It usually involves something sleek, fast and expensive though.” he said with a wink. It was a cliché, but he knew what women like Amber wanted to hear. It was also a bit of lie, but it was better than ‘I work all the time and when I’m not doing that I like flying, using the wings growing out of my shoulder blades.’ “How about you?” he asked with a smile, and then glanced at one of the approaching bar staff. “Would you like a drink?” Amber was instantly pleased that the dark blonde didn’t seem unnerved by her sudden presence. That was good, it meant he knew how the club system worked and wouldn’t blanch at her flirting. Of course, she let out a throaty laugh as he nodded towards the stage, her lips curving into a smirk, “The big fella might be losing his opportunity. Shouldn’t have left me alone with his handsome friend.” When he took her proffered hand, Amber’s green eyes instantly took a look at his ring finger. Ah, not hooked. At the very least, he wasn’t wearing his wedding band if he was. Would it have mattered? Of course not. And Amber didn’t try to take all of her client’s home. But this one, she could almost see the money spilling out of his pockets and it added to her interest. “Its nice to meet you, Warren,” she said back, batting her false eyelashes at him. A grin spread over her lips and she threw her head back to let out a laugh, “Sounds like my kind of fun…” The flirty ones were always better to deal with than the first-timers; those men that looked so scared and could barely look at you. He questioned what she liked to do, and Amber smiled, “Oh you know. A little bit of this and a little bit of that…” Ah perfect timing, Isabelle was striding up just then and Amber gave a gracious nod towards Warren, “I’d love one.” Giving him the barest hint of a smile, she said in a seductive tone, “I’ll have a Wild Sex.” In an instant, Izzy had disappeared and returned with drinks on her tray. Taking the drink, Amber made a show of playing with the straw and taking a long sip of the sweet and fruity drink, looking at Warren as she rolled the straw between her long fingernails, “Something else I really like to do is dance.” She tilted her head purposely, “Oh, I love this song…” Placing down her drink, she ran her fingertips along his arm, “I’m ready to dance for you now.” Without giving him much of a chance to deny her, she stood and leaned over him slowly, moving sensually to the driving beat in the club. Running her hands over her exposed thigh, she dragged her long slit dress up slightly, showing off her long legs. It was her best feature and she was well aware of it. Turning, she gripped the arm of Warren’s chair to steady herself as she hovered over his lap, always keeping that few inches or so of space. She wouldn’t have minded doing more though, and if he gave her the go ahead, she would quickly drag him off to the more private harem rooms. Turning once again, she faced him, still dancing sensually, her long-nailed fingers brushed through Warren’s dark blonde hair, “So, your friend is the groom. Am I so lucky that he’s the only one taken?” Warren was about to refuse the dance as politely as he could; it kind of went against the unspoken ‘look don’t touch’ rule, when Amber started doing it anyway. She was obvious, and laid it on with a shovel when she spoke to him, and he knew exactly what she was after, but she was an incredible dancer and really, really hot so he just relaxed back and admired her. Under any of circumstances he probably would have spent most of the night with her and then taken her home, but he was attached now and at his best friends bachelor party so that wasn’t happening. However much he was enjoying the movements of the woman in front of him, he was old enough and had made enough stupid mistakes in his life to keep a rein on his hormones. As she turned back to face him, her fingers in his hair, Warren gave her an apologetic smile. “My girlfriend is with the bachelorette party.” he explained and then glanced around the assembled group of men. He moved forwards in his seat slightly, moving to talk into Amber’s ear. “But the guy with silver hair, and the blonde one; both of them could do with a dance.” he told her, his hand coming up to hold hers as it rested in his hair, discreetly slipping a folded section of money into her palm and giving her a wicked smile. Okay, it was a little bit mean, but he thought the sooner Pietro stopped worrying about his sister the better, and Alex would probably appreciate it. “Thank you for the dance” he added, pulling back and giving her another smile. mber’s full lips instantly formed a pout, “Aw, it’s always the good ones…” She felt a twinge of disappointment and if he’d given her a different sort of reply, or responded the way she would’ve really liked, she would’ve offered to take him to the more intimate areas of the club. As it was, he’d promptly shut her down and Amber had been doing this long enough to know when men wanted to be swayed or not. But her face showed no signs of true disappointment and she flashed him a grin, particularly at the sensation of the cool bills against her hand, “You got it, Sweetie.” Giving him a wink, she slipped the money into her bra, “The pleasure was all mine…” With a flick of her hair, she turned and sauntered towards Pietro. Hmm, now this one was going to be a challenge, she could already tell. But hey, part of the fun was breaking them in, right? Warren shook his head slightly with an amused smile as he watched Amber saunter off towards Pietro, he had to hand it to her, she was a complete professional. Who knew, maybe she could even charm the uptight gypsy. His attention moved to Scott, checking to see if his friend was okay, he seemed to be having a good time though and Warren's blue eyes moved back to watch with barely veiled interest the exchange between Amber and Pietro. |
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| Quicksilver | Jan 23 2008, 12:10 AM Post #7 |
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Superspeed/ Superstrength
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jp Pietro/Amber The girl approached Pietro, who was standing beside the table, arms folded a tall, slender drink in his hand. He'd balked at the American beer, and after a discussion with the bartender, he'd been poured some real russian vodka, an expensive label that Pietro, a poor gypsy, would never hope to have access to without sticky fingers and a lot more luck than Pietro had been gifted with. It was undeniably smooth, and they had mixed it with a sweet citrusy syrup for him, at his comment of needing sugar. This club certainly knew how to cater to its clients. He'd had several already, beginning with dinner, and Alex, in his desire to make them all have a good time, had been encouraging it. It took a great deal for Pietro to stay drunk, but not too much for him to actually get there. He looked this girl over critically, comparing her in his eye to Avery and to Wanda and finding her terribly... common in her beauty, no different from any other woman in this club, but then, he'd learned in his time as one of the evolved to appreciate the exotic. So, while she was beautiful, and any one else would find her attractive, he merely found her pleasant to look at and no more. She offered a dance, and Alex next to him, brayed like a jackass. Pietro had seen how she danced for Warren and how the other girl danced for Scott, and he did not want the one sided gyrations of servitude these women were trained in. As she sidled up, he said, simply, "If you wish to dance, we dance as one. I do not think you could keep up with me." Amber was always one to spring back from a rejection. As a dancer you had to have a thick skin when it came to these things. Some men wanted to marry you at first glance…others, wanted the girl next to you. It was all part of the job description. Mr. Warren was taken, but he’d tipped her well and given her a new target. A tall, lean silver-haired man, not as enticing as the tall drink of water she’d just left. But whatever, he was young and fit and despite the cold look in his eyes and the scowl on his face, he was handsome. He gave her a look over and Amber put on her best smile, flipping her hair back over her shoulder, but he seemed unfazed. “Let me dance for you, Silver…” she said with an easy grin, already moving her hips to the beat of the music. And then he threw her a statement that caused the auburn-haired beauty to cock her head in interest. “As one?” she smirked, “Why don’t you try me?” Pietro smirked back, and handed his drink to Alexander who stopped laughing and instead let his jaw fall open with surprise. Pleased that he had startled his friend, Pietro allowed himself to be bold. He would never be so with someone he cared for, someone who meant something to him, but he was a young man, a young gypsy man, and though he was inexperienced in the ways of love, he was not so in the ways of music. He and Wanda had busked for a living in the streets of Transian Villages, and all throughout Eastern Europe. They'd danced on the cobblestone roads of Doomstadt, to music ethereal and haunting. This "techno" throbbing was not music like he knew music, the rhythm, the beat, those he knew and he knew well. Besides, they believed he could not do this, these men he was with, and that was an insult to his manhood. He slipped an arm around her waist, and pulled her close, and spoke, his accent thicker, his eyes never leaving hers, "Take a deep breath." Then, without waiting for her to do so, he spun her out onto the floor, and began to dance, moving with the grace and the passion of his people. It would be beautiful, it would be surprising. It would be at a speed that didn't hurt her, but was more than a normal man. Amber felt the man’s hand slip around her waist, and had he tried anything untoward, without paying or asking her first, she would’ve had a bouncer over in the flash of an eye. As it was, she merely nodded towards the bulky man in the corner, who was already taking a step forward. The silver-haired man spoke with an accent, and she planned on asking him a load of questions about it, to find out his name, and to give him hers. But she was given no chance. His words came and before she could even do so, he had swept her off her feet at a speed that she knew was not human. She could barely feel her feet on the ground, the room around her moving in a slight blur. Pietro was not unaware that there were rules to this sort of establishment. After all, these women were not prostitutes to be used up and cast aside, so he had noticed the bouncer, and had made sure that he handled the girl with respect. But, as they danced, he kept his eyes on hers, with the intensity of a lover, for that was part of the dance. Her flesh pressed against his flesh, warm, blood just below the surface, pumping with every rapid beat of the heart, for that too was part of the dance. One hand around her slender waist, the other sliding down her side, to shift her leg, so he held her thigh as he dipped her in a round swoop and ended with them spun around and upright, lips only a fraction of an inch apart. No kiss though, that was not part of the dance. Bodies pressed together, Amber raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. Her full lips parted to speak, but the force against her lungs caused her to close them right back again. Any sassy comments would have to come later. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself further into his chest and hips. Hey he was a cutie, and when she was able to actually be attracted to a client, she took the opportunity. Smirking at him slightly, she left her green-eyed gaze on his, taking in the pale silver depths. He was intense, that much was for sure, and Amber liked it. The same way she’d enjoyed how flirtatious Warren had been, she now enjoyed how intensely the silver-haired man was eyeing her. His hand came to her thigh and she gracefully arched towards the ground, sweeping at a heart-racing speed against the open air. In a second, she was upright once more, her eyes dark with interest and her lips in a smirk as she caught the distance between them. His mouth was there, as was hers, but kisses were not part of the deal. Not unless he asked for it. Running her fingers through his bangs, she smiled, her long lashes batting, “Thank you for the dance. But I didn’t catch your name.” "I did not throw it," Pietro said, as he released her, to trail his hand down her arm, and catch her fingers. Bringing them to his lips, he said, "Pietro Django Maximoff, of Clan Maximoff, of the Wundegore Romaly." He released his hold on her, and said, "I thank you for the dance, but I steal attention that is not mine to take." Amber’s lips curved up into a smile as the man released her and answered so smoothly. “What do I have to do to get it?” she asked, tilting her head coquettishly. His fingers brushed against her arm and he took her hand, his lips against her skin. Her eyebrows rose faintly for a moment, taking in his title. Part of a Clan…was he a prince? Perhaps she had missed out on the hot businessman, but taking up with a prince would make her a princess… Every little girl dreamed of being a princess, and Amber had been no different. Besides, princes were rich. “Pietro, lovely to meet you,” she said, standing tall and pushing her chest out. “I’m Amber,” she said with a conscious little lick of her bottom lip. “It’s not stolen if it’s given to you willingly,” she said, twirling a strand of auburn and blonde highlighted hair around her finger, her words laced with double meaning. "I do not mean attention from you, Amber, as lovely a thing as that would be. I mean from the groom," Pietro nodded to Scott, who was talking casually to Logan at the moment, unattended and not entirely looking displeased about the lack of feminine attention. "In the customs of my people, the focus goes to the one who is to be married, but then, we also do not celebrate with strangers, so I perhaps do not understand it." He shrugged, and bowed deeply, dismissing her if she so chose, "I have not danced in years with a partner beyond my twin sister, and our dance is obviously of another sort. Thank you for awakening my long slumbering enthusiasm." And with that, he turned and rejoined the party, taking his drink from the hand of the catatonic Alexander, who stared at him as if he didn't know who he was. "Close your mouth, Summers, you'll catch flies," Pietro said, with a smirk, as he finished his drink and called for another. Amber grinned, a perfect set of teeth showing through, “I know what you meant.” Winking at him, she turned and glanced towards the groom, dismayed to find that there was no beautiful woman hanging off his lap. Honestly, sometimes she had to do all the work in this place. Her face never showed a hint of displeasure though, and she said, “There’s a lot for you to learn then. I wouldn’t mind being the one that teaches you.” He bowed and she gave the smallest nod of her head, unsure what he was talking about at his mention of dancing with his twin. Hey, they got all sorts at the club. Maybe there was more freaky in him than he initially gave off. He added that it was a different kind of dancing and Amber smiled easily, “I’d be jealous otherwise.” He thanked her for the dance, and Amber blew him a kiss, “Thank you.” Warren had given her quite the wad earlier, and therefore Pietro’s dance was paid for in full. She would see later that the close contact had also been paid for, even if Warren had not intended it in his heavy tipping. Glancing towards Alex, she intended on heading towards him, but already there was a fellow dancer edging towards him. With the smoothest of motions, Amber turned on her impossibly high heels and sauntered off into the crowd. |
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| Cyclops | Jan 26 2008, 08:34 AM Post #8 |
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Punches from the Punch Dimension
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"Congratulations, O Fearless Leader. I believe you were meant for each other from the very first day." Scott smiled as Hank's huge paw engulfed his. "Thank you, Hank," he said, about to offer him a drink when the girl's approach scared McCoy off. Watching with interest, Scott, who had had more than a couple at this point, and was starting to feel... not so very stressed, leaned over to his brother, hovering nearby with a tray of shots that he had taken from the hands of some pretty girl with a faint mane of soft red hair almost the color of Jean's running down her bare back. "I'm not sure I've ever seen him date," Scott confided to Alex. Alex smiled and said, "We should get him drunk. He could put that tongue of his to use for something more than talking like a thesaurus." His brother laughed, "Believe it or not, he was worse when we were kids. Only eighteen year old I ever met that read Plutarch in its original latin as 'light summer reading." "Wow, and I thought you were the King of the Dorks," Alex chuckled, "Speaking of getting people drunk though, I think you are falling behind." He nodded at Warren who was in the middle of a lap dance with some stripper, "Course, I don't even know if he's been drinking, frankly. He's just too pretty. Like honey to opportunistic bumblebees or something." “Hey, Scott, the Cajun’s stealin yer limelight,” Logan called, smirking. Alex looked over at Remy and said, "Oh, now this is just ridiculous." He pulled the pretty maned girl over and handed her back her tray, "This is the groom. He is not drunk yet. That is a problem." The maned girl nodded, and carefully avoiding Amber and the silver haired speedster she was dancing with, she called over three other girls, two human and one mutant like she was. This was a special party, one that the mutant girls had been looking forward too. There was no end to human clients who wanted the exotic thrill of a mutie girl, but these men, not an ugly one in the bunch, were like them, mutants... they didn't have be a spectacle because they were different, they could be a spectacle because they wanted to be. It was a subtle difference but one that mattered more than anyone discussed. The music switched something slow and rhythmic, the dj knowing very well this routine. After all, this was not a new thing. This was a popular place for bachelor parties. Scott looked over at his brother, and shook his head, "Alex, what the hell..." he laughed, "Warren, Logan, help..." Alex smirked and said, "Live dangerously, Scotty." And, in time to the music the four women did their best to make the groom forget about his bride intended. In singles and pairs, they moved up and down his body, hands stroking, thighs straddling, breasts pressed against his chest, and one by one they passed him shots and insisted he tip them back. One girl slid up on him and tucked the shot glass in her ample cleavage. A not gentle, but then not necessarily forceful hand on the back of his head guided him down to retrieve it. "Your glasses," said one, her hand coming up to them. Scott caught her wrist. "Not happening," he said. "My eyes..." The girl leaned close, "Then, close them." It was the drinks, it had to be, the drinks and the atmosphere, and maybe just an unusual desire to 'live dangerously,' as Alex put it, Scott closed his eyes, and the girls removed his glasses. Then, the fun really began. The tempo of both the music and their caresses grew faster, and the shots came quicker. With his eyes closed, he was still very aware of which girl was touching him where and when, trained to fight blind, trained to know what was happening to him. With Mystique it had been a misery to know, with these girls it was a pleasure, and Scott, who had by now lost count of how many shots he downed, realized idly, he was getting drunk. It was a disconnected thought, and his thoughts floated back through the rapport he shared with Jean, stretched thin by their physical distance. They'd made a promise not to check on each other though, to trust that whatever they did stayed within the realms of trust, so Jean had faithfully sealed their link off, the only residual being the feeling of pleasure and... enjoyment. She was having fun and was pleased to find him having fun. They needed no more reassurance than that, and as his thoughts were pulled back by what was happening to him, with him, a girl nibbling his ear, another on his lap, the maned girl's lips were suddenly pressed to his, passing him a shot through a kiss. |
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| Orbital | Jan 28 2008, 07:56 AM Post #9 |
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Unregistered
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A few words could've been attributed to the junior X-Man in his day-to-day life. Composed. Collected. Altogether cool and together, with his act, combined with impeccable wit and tact. Add alcohol and girls to the mix, and it was no surprise that Roy could get a touch ... wild. Hey, he was young. He lived it up. As Logan and Gambit filtered in, he raise his glass and gave a nod to them in some greeting -- but it was Hank McCoy's evident shyness around the girls that drew a smirk from the young X-Man, standing up as the blue one ushered himself away to the washrooms. "Hey. Mr. McCoy, where are y'going?" Roy said to him, a wide grin and a stiff drink in his hand, hooking an arm around Hank's broad shoulder -- and, with a slight trick of gravity and spin of his feet, turned him around from where he was heading. "You're missing the party! C'mon, have a brew, check out some girls, it's a great night to do it!" It might've been odd for Hank -- not only being pulled into this, but by none other than Roy Stoll -- the son of one of Hank's geneticist professional peers. But, at the coaxing of two girls dancing by, Roy split company with the blue-furred mutant -- and over to a chair that they led him to, sitting him down. One slipped in his lap, and the other had a small tray of assorted shots, passing right to his lips as the first girl moved in a grind against his lap in a slow, rhythmic lap dance. A half-plastered smirk lifted on Roy's face -- and he held his hands up, asking for a pause. "Ladies, ladies," he uttered, making a grin as he looked to both of them. "Let's make this ... a bit more interesting, shouldn't we?" Of course, the girls weren't sure what he meant by that -- but, Roy took the one shot glass that was handed to him, and between him and the girl in front of it, poured it out in mid-air. All it took was a lack of gravity -- and the liquid bubbled out, floating in a gelatinous-like, shaking orb between them. With a smirk, he leaned in, and drank the liquid up -- and gave a short nod to the girl on his lap, the signal for her to continue. Her own naughty little grin back -- and so she did. Really, the jiggle was so much better with low gravity -- and after a countless number of drinks, Roy really began to appreciate it. |
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| Hank McCoy | Jan 29 2008, 09:41 PM Post #10 |
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Unregistered
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Hank was almost to the door -- it was within his sight, no more than a few feet away -- when an arm settled around his shoulders. Normally he would have kept going, the door firmly in sight, but a small trick of gravity forced his feet around. Had Hank not been as balanced as he was, he would have hit the floor. As it was, the man quirked an eyebrow as he was suddenly facing the opposite direction. It wasn't that he didn't like those of the female persuasion -- very much the contrary, really, and he gulped with a suddenly dry mouth as one of the women approached him and guided him to a barstool. No, it was just that he was more used to staying inside his lab, and to intellectual conversations and chess. And the woman who was suddenly twining her way around him like a cat...well, she was most definitely not someone who would think of chess as a hobby. "My..." Hank finally managed, turning bright red -- one of the disadvantages of having his image inducer on, in that when he blushed the blush was plainly visible with no fur to hide it. He tried to shift in his seat, a bad idea. "Oh...my stars and garters...er..." He cleared his throat, shooting Roy a look that combined 'you're going to die' and 'help me?'. Of course, Roy would be no help. He was plainly enjoying himself. At a loss for anything else to do, Hank reached around the woman and grabbed for a shot. He downed the shot quickly, savoring the sharp flavor down his throat. To be honest, Hank wasn't normally a drinking man, but...well, this seemed like the time to start. |
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| Alejandro Villalobo | Jan 30 2008, 09:14 PM Post #11 |
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Unregistered
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Everyone else seemed to be taking their liquor in stride, but Al.. well, let it be known that the Spaniard didn’t drink often, and definitely not often enough. Aside from teaching and playing maintenance man around school grounds, he honestly didn’t do much else, especially for a man his age. Work kept him occupied, made him feel useful, and that was all there was to it. There was no room for a shot of cognac, or two… or twelve. By this time Alejandro had lost count, and the girl straddling his lap and running such teasing fingers through his hair was doing a great job in making him forget. The male patrons of this classy little establishment weren’t allowed to touch, but technically, that brunette bombshell was the one instigating all the contact. For the girls, anything was game as long as they got their just compensation. And God bless Warren’s little feathered heart, he’d made sure of that. The cognac burned pleasantly down his throat, the sweet phantom of brandy and wine lingering on this taste buds long after his glass went dry. Which wasn’t often. The staff certainly prided themselves on their service and presentation, and Alejandro made his appreciation noted, another folded bill escaping the confines of his wallet and disappearing God knows where on her person, with only a little guidance on her part. She was lovely, no doubt about it, a tall lithe thing with legs that just seemed to go on forever in that barely-there gossamer dress, and oh how those heels did such interesting things to them. Her eyes were a deep cranberry color, almond shaped and framed by thick eyelashes, an artful application of jade dusted around them and making her Asian features more alluring. He didn’t hide his interest, letting his eyes wander down that long exposed line of back that her pearlescent dress teasingly allowed; there was no one at home holding him back, and even if there were, well, he was only joining the celebration. Speaking of which, how was the future groom faring? Alejandro looked over to the side, searching the bevy of patrons for their man of the hour. He frowned slightly, wondering if the room had always slanted at such an odd angle, but a feather-light brush of the girl’s fingertips along his neck and the pleasant warm rush it brought prompted his attention back to other things. She looked at him with a contrived little pout over her shoulder, playing with a lock of his black hair. “What’s wrong, sweetie, am I boring you?” she asked, but at no point did it break the sensuous wind of her dance. She turned around on his lap effortlessly, her dress riding far up her creamy thighs while she ran a teasing finger along his jaw and down his neck, the trail leaving his skin tingling and giving him a pleasant buzz distinct from this drink-induced one. He dimly wondered if the girl secreted some kind of opiate. In that case, her business would never stagnate. “Para nada, chica,” he responded, settling back into his chair after he’d seen Summers getting all the generous attention he deserved. Most of their group seemed pleasantly occupied, except, however, for the tall fellow stuttering by the bar. Alejandro frowned again, and the dancer followed his gaze to the frazzled scientist. “Just looking out for my friends. Cannot be selfish,” he smirked, looking back to the girl. He was tipping her enough, so she didn’t see why she needed to find other guys to entertain. “He’s being taken care of. Don’t worry about him,” she cooed, sensing that her generous patron was getting ready to leave. She slid off his lap with an unspeakable grace, moving behind Al and running her hands down his chest. “Maybe if I took you to one of the private rooms, you wouldn’t be so distracted,” she spoke into his ear, another gratuitous brush of her fingers sending more of that opiate into his system. That always did the trick. “Maybe later, mamita.” Al rose from his seat, keeping a hand on the table nearby as the floor argued with itself and finally decided on a stable angle. “But until then, you see that hombre there?” he asked, pointing towards a certain Canook who didn’t spare the club a glance over his liquor. He handed the dancer another little gratuity. “Say no more, sweetie.” And with a coquettish grin, she walked up to Logan, slinking up to his side and sliding into the bar stool next to him. Her fingers brushed against his arm oh so innocently, and those dark eyes washed over his figure as she settled in. “Mind if I joined you?” she asked with a smile, glancing up to the bartender and nodding her head. The guy already knew her drink of choice. That left Alejandro to take his glass of cognac with him as he headed for the bar, tossing the rest of the drink back and clapping a hand on Hank’s shoulder. “Oye, hermano!” he greeted jovially, that friendly hand on the fuzzy-man’s shoulder also serving to keep Al from possibly swaying. He placed his empty glass on the bar counter, then looked back at Hank with a rather bleary smile. Oooh, no more cognac for you. “Who would have guessed, the beast appears outside his lab! But what is with the face?” He patted Hank’s cheek jovially, referring to his blushing. “She’s a pretty girl. Tremenda chuletica. Ahi si hay.” At that, he gave the dancer a little wink. “If you don’t like the girl, we’ll set you up with something else. Even if I have to give you a lap dance myself. Who knows? You might like it,” the Spaniard smirked slyly. Was he being serious? Well, the cognac had done some stranger things… |
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| Havok | Feb 3 2008, 08:05 AM Post #12 |
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Superheated Plasma Blasts
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The party was in full swing now. Several girls were attending to the groom as they should be. Many of the other men in the group were being teased, taunted, touched and tempted, and Alex Summers was having a great time. He wandered over to the bar and the bartender smirked, "You gentleman doing ok?" Alex pointed at Scott who was pulling back from the surprise kiss of the maned girl who straddled his lap and said, "You see that guy there? That's my brother, and he is the most straight laced son of a gun you're ever going to meet. The fact that your girls have not only gotten him drunk, or mostly there, and have gotten his glasses off him means we are doing more than ok." The bartender laughed, "Well, the girls'll be pleased to hear it. The straight laced ones are their favorites. He's the groom?" "Yup," Alex said, as the man slid him over a straight scotch, "Marrying the girl he's been after for like half his life." "Congrats to him," the bartender said, "He must be a patient guy... or she must be a patient gal." "More the latter, I think," Alex said, tossing back the scotch. He watched as Scott reclaimed his glasses and laughed, lightly untangling himself from the girls with protesting gestures and pleading looks towards Warren and Logan, both of whom were ignoring his plight in utmost amusement. Alex shook his head, absolutely amazed that his brother was having such a good time. He'd figured that he would be so out of his element that he'd be miserable, but Scott was surprising him. Seemed he was good at that. God, things were going so well, so smoothly. He'd become accustomed to things blowing up in their faces. Trips to the mall, family reunions, when you're a mutant, it seems that nothing can be simple, peaceful. Could it really be possible for Scott to have a happy ever after? Made him wonder about his own chances for a fairy tale ending... the way things were going with Lorna... or not going as the case may be, it didn't seem likely. He pushed his glass forward for a refill. The bartender obliged, with a smirk, "Do I sense a bit of the green eyed monster in that sullen gaze?" "No, not jealousy," Alex said, "Not really. I mean, you don't know the kind of shit my brother's been through. He deserves to be happy. I just... kind of wish I had what he's got." The bartender nodded and said, "Gotcha, look, your playboy buddy took care of the house tonight. Everything. Dances, booze... use of the private rooms. You want to get your wick wet, anyone of these lovely ladies that strikes your fancy is sure to be bewitched by those baby blues and that hang dog expression of yours." Alex laughed, "Yeah, that's going to solve all my problems." "Oh, it definitely won't," the bartender joined in on the laughter and topped the younger man's drink up, "But you'll forget about them for awhile." "Oh, I have no doubt, I have no doubt," Alex chuckled. |
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| Quicksilver | Feb 5 2008, 09:37 AM Post #13 |
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Superspeed/ Superstrength
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This was not a celebration like the ones back home, but then, Pietro Maximoff was not back in the wilds of the Transian countryside, in the shadow of Mount Wundegore. He watched as the girls danced, more often that not managing to pull the men they honed in on into a pressing of flesh. Scott Summers had at last untangled himself from their grasps, and they were presently lining up more for him to drink. Worthington, Alejandro, Logan and Gambit had turned to their own drinks. Roy was juggling alcohol in the air. Wine, woman and song was all around. Pietro, already beginning to lose his own pleasant drunk thanks to his sped up recuperative process, watched the men, so easily plied with alcohol and beauty and his thoughts drifted to the women. What were they doing? He was not concerned with his lovely Avery, for she was undeniably an American girl and understood the ways of this society, but his sister, the poor delicate thing she was, didn't know how this world worked. She would very easily be taken advantage of by opportunistic men who did not know the miracle of her. Seeing that Alexander was involved in conversation with the bartender, Pietro took a few steps towards the exit, and in a whirl of wind and rush, he was gone. exit Pietro to Truth or Dare |
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| Wolverine | Feb 5 2008, 10:29 AM Post #14 |
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Unregistered
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If it wasn’t for the fact this was Scott’s bachelor party, he would have exited already, just as it seemed was along the same lines of Pietro’s thinking, Logan’s gaze settled on him, for no other reason than he just happened to look in his general direction at the right time. Even keen eyes such as his were hard spent to see where he’d gone, the white haired speedster obviously having something else on his mind… his sister perhaps? The Wolverine couldn’t honestly say, for, he’d chosen to stay away from the Maximoff twins, for now, and for reasons he couldn’t exactly explain. It was hard to keep up with every single happening at the Institute, after all, new faces came and went, and well, seeing those two reminded him of the specific events he hadn’t been here for, something about not being able to protect Mina, or be there to help Scott, when they’d needed him the most. “Dat be de look of a man dat be tinkin too much,” Remy commented, motioning with partly gloved fingers to two rather sexy blondes, who, immediately moved over to begin one of their many chosen numbers very close to a man who couldn’t care less if they were there either way. “Oh, c’mon, Mon’ami, how can yo not be moved by what yo be seein?” Gambit leaned in closer, suddenly apart of the very dance number he’d helped initiate, “Mina be knowin yo be here, so why not be havin some fun, lettin down de claws, showin dem yo not be as old as yo actually are,” and that certainly earned a quirked eyebrow from the Canadian, but, still no reaction, just a man leaning back against one of the tables, sipping a bottle of beer, with two girls dancing around him, like it was something he did every day. “Oh, I swear, he be impossible!” Remy cried, red-on-black eyes flashing with annoyance. “De man be too in love.” “She must be special, hmm?” one of the blondes asked, seductively running her hand over the muscles of Logan’s arm, on down over a chest she really did wish wasn’t covered with a white shirt right now. Logan just looked at her. “Yer could say that,” he simply said, taking another swig of his beer and giving his Cajun friend a noncommittal look. “Would it help if I told you we’re sisters,” and with that direct statement, the two began dancing awfully close to each other, right there in front of him, hands going to places he would only ever dream of letting Mina explore. “Damn,” he whispered, blinking a little. “Hah!” Remy cried, laughing. “See, I be knowin de real man be still in dere somewhere,” and, with that said, he allowed another young girl, this one with hair as dark as a starless night, and legs that looked liked they would never end, lead him off a bit from his friend. “Trust me Darlin,” Logan said to the sister that had spoken to him, “yer really don’t want me ter truly let down my claws,” and, it was then the one who had yet to speak leaned over, licking the side of his face with a tongue that clearly wasn’t human. “Why’s that?” she asked, the Wolverine now a tad bit at a loss for words. The second eyelid over her eyes closed then opened just as quickly, and when they did, Wolverine knew exactly what type of mutant female he was dealing with. He really did have to admit, he’d never been this close to a lizard before. He suddenly wondered how flexible she could be, or, if she stuck to walls? Wow, interesting tangent he now found himself on, even as she leaned forward again, trailed that forked tongue down his neck, and whispered, “You didn’t answer my question. Oh, and if your wondering, snake, not lizard," her eyes flashed, moving her head so he could finally see the red and black scales all over her sister's body;; scales that were starting to make an appearance over hers as well. Logan quirked a brow again, "Yer poisonous?" "Yep." "Interestin'." |
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| Warren Worthington | Feb 11 2008, 02:54 AM Post #15 |
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Unregistered
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JP - WAR & SCOTT Warren glanced around the bar, checking out what everyone was up to and making sure that the members of the party seemed to be having fun. Scott seemed to be having fun with a large group of women and Warren wasn’t about to interrupt that. He’d admittedly he’d been a little neglectful in his best man duties over the past half an hour but when a beautiful woman like Amber danced for him, he wasn’t in the habit of thinking about his best friend. He wouldn’t expect Scott to be thinking be thinking about him either. It would be kind of weird if he was, Warren concluded. Pushing those, admittedly weird, thoughts aside, Warren noticed Alex at the bar and got to his feet. He was pretty good at holding his drink, and was only slightly unsteady as he walked up beside Alex, clapping him on the shoulder. “Cheer up mopey. I’m sure you can persuade one of the ladies to dye her hair green for you.” Not too long ago Alex might have blasted his head off for saying something like that, but they had moved past most of their issues recently and could now be called friends. He signalled for a beer from the nearby bartender and then turned around to face the room, bottle in hand, leaning his elbows back against the counter. “Okay, hot, barely dressed ladies and shots are all very well but I have it on good authority that there is a tattoo parlour around here.” He said with a wicked smirk at Alex and then nodded towards Scott. “What do you think?” Alex snorted at Warren's comments about green hair, and said, "Sure, she'd look the part, but would she have the same magnetic attraction? All my personal issues aside, there's something undeniably exciting about a woman who can get the iron in your blood flowing just by thinking about it," He finished his drink and cocked an eyebrow at the tattoo parlor comment, "You're seriously still thinking about that? I just don't know if Scott's going to go for it." He looked over at his brother and said, "He is pretty drunk. Those girls have gotten about a baker's dozen worth of shots down his throat." He chuckled and said, "I'm all for giving it a try, but here's the deal, Jean decides to go all scary about it, I am laying the blame squarely on your feathered shoulders, you got it?" He laughed, "Oh, god, we could be soooo mean and get him a bunny or something, but I'd be a bad bad brother if I let you humiliate him too much... wouldn't I?" “Whoa that’s too much information.” Warren said, holding his hands up in a gesture of defence. “Each to his own though. Sure it’s great until you make her mad and then you end up bleeding out of your eyes.” He commented, taking another swig of beer and shooting Alex an amused look. One thing that most of the men in the room had in common was that they were attached to fiery, independent women, and could all relate to the down side of that. As Alex questioned the tattoo idea, Warren smiled broadly and nodded. “Absolutely. He may not be too bad right now, but in a few minutes those shots are going to hit home and we could probably get him to tattoo the Professor’s face on his ass if we wanted.” Warren shook his head slightly, trying to remove that disturbing image. “But let’s not, because that would be intensely creepy.” He shifted his beer into the hand furthest away from Alex and extended his hand to the man next to him. “I’ll take the flack from Jeannie. God knows I’m used to it by now.” he commented with a grin. The younger man commented on getting Scott a bunny design and Warren laughed, looking over at Scott. “Don’t tempt me.” There was a sudden whoosh, and Pietro, who had vanished to parts unknown, appeared, a slightly dazed look on his face, and a definite hint of lipstick smear on his lips. "Hello," he said, "What are we discussing?" His voice had a slur to it as well. "Where did you run off to?" Alex asked, suspiciously. The white haired young man shook his head and said, "I... have absolutely no idea... I think... I have had a bit much to drink. I am not accustomed to this. My systems process the alcohol a lot quicker than this normally. I have entirely had too much." Alex chuckled and clapped his friend on the back, "Excellent. I'm proud of you, I think." He handed Pietro a napkin, and said, "Wipe the lipstick off your face, loverboy. We're going to take Scott to the tattoo parlour and get him a lasting memory of his last night of freedom." Pietro glanced over at Scott and, as he came from a much different culture, the idea made perfect sense to him, "Well, of course, that would be a symbol of his entering a new phase of life." He looked at the two blond men, both of whom were smiling mischievously, "He has no idea you are planning this, does he? Warren raised his eyebrows but didn’t comment on Pietro’s flustered state. He didn’t really have to ask anyway, he had a fair idea of what the white haired man had been up to. He was tempted to ask if he had seen Ari and what she was up to, but he restrained himself. He’d stated to her before that he wouldn’t make a big deal about anything that happened at the Bachelorette party and he was going to respect that. As Pietro commented on whether Scott knew about the tattoo, Warren attempted to school his expression from that of a mischievous child to one of feigned innocence. He almost managed it. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” he said simply, spreading his hands. “Now, let’s get this show on the road.” he said, draining the rest of his bottle and putting it back on the bar. Alex laughed, and said, "You're going to have to change that codename, Worthington. You can't pull that angelic innocence off as well as you think you can." He passed the bartender a nice sized tip and said, "Thanks for your hospitality," The bartender smirked, "It's all the girls, my friend. I'm just swinging bottles." Alex walked over to his brother and said, "Hidey ho, Scott, you having fun." Scott looked up at Alex and said, "I've had far too much to drink. If I am hung over tomorrow, Jeannie's going to kill me..." He smiled, his head drooping a little and he murmured, "I'm getting married tomorrow, Little Brother." "You definitely are," Alex said, "And, we'll get you some water or something before you sleep, so the hang over shouldn't be too bad, I think." He helped him to his feet and said, "One more stop and then, we should probably get you home to sleep it off." Scott, amicably, allowed his brother to pull him to very unsteady feet and he said, "More party? I don't know if I can handle more." "We'll take good care of you," Alex smirked, "I promise." The older man looked his brother in the eye and said, "I don't know how much I trust you..." He glanced at Warren, "Either of you..." Warren pushed his weight off the bar and followed after Alex as he went to pull Scott up. He paused for a moment, and looked around at Al and Hank, both of whom were standing a little further down the bar. “Hey, we’re going to wrap things up here, but we’re going to get Scott a little parting gift before we head home.” he told them with a grin before meeting up with Alex and Scott, who was just being helped to his feet. Warren came around to the other side of him, and urged the groom forwards. “You should always trust us. We’ve only got your best interests at heart. Remember that tomorrow morning” Warren added as he helped Scott towards the door, thanking the staff and the dancers as they went. The night was cold, but liquor warms the blood and keeps the chill away, so the unsteady group that stumbled from the club, was fine as they walked down the street. It was fairly late, but this was a popular part of town, and so many a reveller was out tonight. As they passed various boisterous groups, Alex wasted no time in telling them that his brother was about to get married. Cheers and jeers came from all sides, warnings about balls and chains, and cries of "Don't do it, pal!" from the men, and coos and "Congratulations, Cutie!" from the girls. Scott, his face as red as a beet from embarrassed pleasure, shook his head at his friends and family who propelled him forwards and said, "This is too much." "Let us be the judge of that," Alex said, as they stopped in front of a well lit store with pictures all over the wall, and an small fenced in area at the back. "I think we've arrived." Scott looked blearily around at the art on the walls and it took a moment, but he very quickly identified this place for what it was, "Oh... oh, no no no, she'll... she'll kill me... You're kidding... right? Please, tell me you don't expect me..." Alex pushed him inside and said, "Just look, ok? Who knows... Chicks do like tats, Scotty." Warren smirked lightly to himself as he looked over the array of tattoo designs, listening to the protests of his friend. Squinting slightly in reaction to the overly bright lights, Warren decided to have a little mercy and not pick one that was completely awful. The place was important as well. The one on the winged mutants own shoulder had been done while he was sober, and while painful, hadn’t been too bad. Arms and upper body was usually okay. Stopping by a section of the wall dedicated entirely to Phoenix designs, Warren grinned and reached out to grab Alex’s forearm. “This is perfect. Has to be one of these.” Scott stumbled backwards, Pietro moving to brace him upwards with a zip and a blurred movement. The tattoo artist, a skinny man with more ink then flesh showing, stood up from where he was eating Chinese food out of a box and watching the drunken party with a wary eye, "Hey, you guys mutants?" Alex looked away from the art on the wall, and said, "That an issue?" "Hell, only in the kinda ink I use if you got diamond skin or some kinda healing factor," the guy shrugged, "This ain't mutant town, but your money's as green as anyone else's, you feel me?" He looked at Scott, and said, "Birthday or bachelor party? I'd say going off to war judging by the look of him if he wasn't a mutant. Far as I know, Uncle Sam isn't drafting the genetically enhanced yet." Alex smirked, "Bachelor party." "I'm getting married," Scott said, fading quickly, the shots definitely finding their mark, "She's a phoenix..." He wasn't exactly certain why he was telling the tattoo artist this, but he smiled, "She's a goddess..." The tattoo artist smirked, "God, he must be in love." He came over to the men and said, "So, a phoenix it is then. Which one?" He looked Scott over, "Which do you like?" "I'm not gettin' a tattoo," Scott said, stubbornly. He pointed to one, though, almost identical to the symbol he'd seen on the new costume Jean was designing for herself, "That one's her... that's Jeannie..." Alex laughed and looked at Warren, "You think?" Warren gave a shrug, looking at the one Scott had picked out. “Sure. Looks as good as any. She’s going to love this.” he said with a grin, thinking that Jean might get a kick out of Scott ‘branding’ himself with her symbol. He looked over at the tattooist and nodded to the one Scott had pointed out. “He’ll get that one. Upper right arm. Don’t want it to be too noticeable.” he said with a smirk. "Make sure it is in dark colors," Pietro said, quietly, "I believe Scott told me once he cannot see certain shades. I think if he is to be inked, he should be allowed to see it." Alex looked at his friend and burst out laughing, "Oh, God, Maximoff, that's an excellent point." The tattoo artist shook his head in amusement. Drunken, rowdy mutants were not his favourite cliental, but something about the groom gave him the impression that this was as uptight a guy as could be, especially the way his friends were enjoying this. "Come on, Mr. Man of the Hour, let's do this thing, and get you home in time to kiss the bride." Helplessly, Scott was led up to the chair and sat down. "She's a goddess," he repeated, as he closed his eyes behind his glasses, "Waited half a lifetime for her..." Scott's tattoo
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6:57 PM Jul 11