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| For He's a Jolly Good Fellow; -Strong Guy's Birthday Party pt 1- | |
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| Topic Started: Jul 9 2013, 03:14 PM (644 Views) | |
| Alani Ryan | Jul 9 2013, 02:57 PM Post #1 |
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So I was looking for information on how lani transitioned into looking like this: into this: ![]() I was more so interested interested in her mutation from a feasibly Hawaiian looking brown eyed girl to a pale blue eyed ginger, but I stumbled across this gem of a poll: "Does Loa Need to go to a Fat Camp? Ladies and Gentleman (Queens fit somewhere in between, naturally), I bring forth a legitimate question that deserves examination. Does the X-Men's own, Alani Ryan, suffer from a food addiction? When Loa first stepped onto the scene, this tattooed wallpaper instantly popped with her skinny thighs and thin wrists. But since William Stryker's crusade upon the New X-Men, it seems only natural that each individual cope in their own way. But it seems that Loa's strategy has fargone that of Trance's neurosis and moved directly onto retaining saturated fats. We were first assaulted with this problem shortly after the New X-Men returned from Limbo, where the signs of Alani's problem came to fruition. http://media.comicvine.com/uploads/0/8981/...erine_super.GIF (Note that Wolf Cub's bowl is still full, while Loa has already devoured her's.) She was able to conceal her problem for a time, but as Rachel's sister says, "a moment on the hips, forever on the lips." Loa knows this all to well, as her body began to show signs in the most unfortunate of ways. The dreaded camel toe. Thus proving Elixir, also known as goldenrod, will hit just about anything. http://media.comicvine.com/uploads/0/77/28...5-loa_super.jpg If that wasn't enough, Alani and her teammates were pitted through constant upheaval, fighting Predator X's and being shown up by baby new year, who wouldn't be upset? Her cause took a turn for a worst not long after as she once again resurfaced in San Francisco. It was evident that she was packing some extra somethin' somethin'. http://media.comicvine.com/uploads/0/5344/...oa_01_super.jpg And now we come to the most recent occurence, X-Force Annual #1. In which we saw this struggling teen emulate her idol, Etta Candy, quite well... http://media.comicvine.com/uploads/0/3347/...zz122_super.jpg So I ask you, fellow x-board posters, what should Loa's next move be? - Should Trance ship her fatass BFFL to fat camp? - Should Carol "Fatass" Danvers (http://i34.tinypic.com/25twxac.jpg) take her under her wing? (Censored because I love you) - Should her guardian, Emma Frost, give the girl an early birthday gift and spring for lipo?" I get that these people are trying to be funny, and I'm not trying to draw a connection toward Lani's physical changes and these kinds of attitudes. I was just bummed that people would talk about any 15 year old character's body this way. |
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| Alani Ryan | Jul 9 2013, 03:08 PM Post #2 |
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Ahhhh. The source of this disembodied text has been pointed out to me and my INTERNET RAGE has subsided. Still not laughing, mind you :/ And still interested in Lani's physical changes. |
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| Strong Guy | Jul 9 2013, 03:14 PM Post #3 |
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Date: June 7 Time: Into the evening hours… Look at ‘em. Guido glanced around at the oddest assortment of weirdoes you ever could hope for and felt himself get a little misty. They were all here to celebrate his birthday. This party was being thrown wholly in his honor. Never mind you the fact that his birthday was nearly two months down the road. Someone got their wires crossed and Guido just didn’t have the heart to tell them they had the wrong date. Besides, maybe he’d get another birthday party in a month. He was made to wear a pointy hat, which sat atop his beefy head like an upturned ice cream cone, green and blue glittering ribbons sprouting out of the point of it like a fountain of festivity. There were balloons, and there was a cake. Really, Guido knew what this was all about and he put the whole thing into perspective and justified it all at once with the sheer and simple fact that people needed a reason to celebrate. There was only so downtrodden and depressed a person could get. Eventually they had to latch onto something…some reason to be happy. Something to focus some positive energy on. Some reason to drink and to eat cake and to be merry. It just so happened that they made their friendly neighborhood Strong Guy that reason. Whatteryagonnado? They had pretty much reserved the whole floor at the fine Irish establishment known as Father Teds. Guido thought that name worked just fine, but a few others took to calling it the Stagger Inn, which was relevant in the fact that they actually did rent some rooms. Probably by the hour, if you know what I’m saying wink-wink-nudge-nudge. Not that this group of angels would know anything about that. Heaven’s no. “Hey, someone get Kyle outta the punch bowl,” he bellowed over the din of music and laughter. The merriment swelled with hoots and hollers and Guido realized it had actually been the owner’s Golden Retriever named Dante who had been licking out of the bowl. Whoops! “Sorry Dante!” |
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| Sub-Mariner | Jul 9 2013, 03:18 PM Post #4 |
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I'm hoping what 'Berto said was right and it's a joke on the other forums, but in any case... I don't believe there IS any reason Loa's appearance changed. Just artists not making up their minds. |
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| Peter Wisdom | Jul 9 2013, 03:22 PM Post #5 |
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I know it's all a joke and fictional etc etc (the 'it's just a joke' defence can be a really shitty one), but there is still something about the tone of that post that is kind of unsettling. So I understand the internet rage. Plus, what the hell is that change about? She's basically been white washed, which is really dodgy. |
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| Overkill | Jul 10 2013, 01:51 PM Post #6 |
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Kinetic Energy Manipulation
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To be honest, Blake hadn't missed it until someone mentioned it. The partying, the quote unquote excessive drinking. It had all sort of faded into the background since XFI had got off the ground and taken Blake along for the ride. He had had some moments, even a little relapse or two. But for the most part he had been so busy dealing with aliens and sentinels and crazy silver haired clones to keep going with the hard partying lifestyle he had once had. Then Jamie had suggested a night out for Guido's birthday and Blake instantly remembered just how much he loved boozing it up with friends. It was an unhealthy but welcome return for the Brit, a return to something he had been so good at. He hadn't been back on his legendary previous form however, or at least not yet. Quite a few beers had gone down thus far and Blake's liver was managing to mostly keep up, but the night would have been fun even sober. So many friends were around, all the best Guido stories were coming out, there was cake and laughter. It was really nice to take a night to forget all the things going wrong in the world outside the bar they had commandeered. Blake was up at the bar, chatting nice and friendly to the female bartender as she and her coworker poured out the multitude of drinks the Englishman had ordered. "So what do you like to do when you aren't servin' stunning foreigners?" He asked with a cheeky grin. "You mean like Guido? I love Italian guys." She replied smiling across the room at the 'birthday' boy. Blake chuckled until he realized she was serious. Apparently he was off his legendary form in more ways than one. A minute or so later he dropped into the chair beside the Strong Guy, laughing as he mistook the canine in the punchbowl (not a euphemism) for their friend Kyle. The Brit turned to his large friend, holding a piece of paper out to him. "The 'ole party was a little out of left field so I didn't 'ave time to get you a proper gift, but 'ere's a start." He explained, showing Guido the phone number written down. "Girl from the bar's cell number. Complements of Wingmen R Us." He concluded with a laugh and a nudge to the big man's side. Just then the bartenders arrived with a glass of some mix for all of the close friends around the main table. Blake stood up and raised his in the air, battling with the din to get his message across. "Alright guys! It's time for the real party to get started, so get ready to skull. To Guido!" He called out exuberantly and tipped his head back to empty his glass of Red Bull and Everclear. The result was a feeling that even the toughest old boot would describe as "putting hair on your chest". Blake smiled as he looked around the bar. Once the Everclear came out, all bets were off. |
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| Kyle Gibney | Jul 19 2013, 03:59 AM Post #7 |
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Feral Abilities/Healing Factor
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"Oye!" Kyle yelled from across the room. "I heard that!" He remarked, nearly slurring his words after how much he had already drank and the party was only getting started. Since about noon he had been drinking bottles of whiskey as if they were beer for "prep" before the party. Mostly because of Kyle's healing factor, and him knowing that if he wasn't inebriated, then he might just ruin this night for his good buddy Guido and everyone else that had come to the party. Kyle just desperately wanted to try and recapture that night years ago when he and Guido and the rest of X-Factor just got so smashed while the world was going to hell. A night where there were no more troubles and the world outside of the bar did not exist, that nothing in recent months happened. It was selfish. He and likely the others knew that it was, but everyone needed an escape otherwise they'd all go absolutely mad. "Yer just lucky I can't get into a dog's head, cause that would be... fuckin' hysterical right about now." He laughed, perhaps more gone than he anticipated, but after the year he had, it may have been a good thing. Blake finally called for the grand shots to really kick off the celebration. " 'Bout friggen time!" Kyle cheered and quickly moved through the crowds to get to the shots. " T'the big man!" Kyle cheered as he threw back the shot, feeling the drink and all its intensity immediately. "Wooooooooooooo!" Kyle howled, and tore off his shirt with all the drunken feral intensity he could muster in his drunken excitement. |
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| Lucy Saint | Jul 19 2013, 03:17 PM Post #8 |
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Needless to say that Lucy had been rather surprised when she had received a hasty invitation to a party meant to celebrate the birthday of an old friend that he hadn’t seen in a long time. The surprise was only bigger since she knew his birthday wasn’t really until in a few months – if she had scrapped it down correctly in her calendar, but she understood people’s need to party. Life hadn’t exactly agreed with any of them the past few… oh heck, did it ever really agree with any of them? So of course they all needed to just let go – even she needed it. Lucy wasn’t usually the big drinker; she hadn’t really been drunk since… Denmark? Since she had become a nurse? Did the night where she got tipsy with Piotr count? She shook her head and concentrated on the person she was standing and talking to, laughing at whatever joke had been made. She really needed to stop zoning out like that. She took a swig from her beer and grinned looking over at Guido who was making a joke on someone’s expense. She’d be lying if she said she had a clue who Kyle was before, but after watching his drunken scene which caused her to laugh, she believed she had a small clue. The toast for Guido wasn’t exactly deep, but it fitted perfectly in some way and she raised the rest of what was left of her beer, whoo’ed with a few of the others and finished her drink. Tonight would be the night that Lucy would let loose and just go with the flow and have fun celebrating her friend and party with so many people she had no clue who was. Walking up to the bar to get a strawberry daiquiri, she looked around the room to see if there were anyone she would recognize, but no such luck yet – other than of course the big guy. She took her drink with a grateful smile and walked over towards the toaster and the birthday boy, placing a quick peck on his cheek and grinned, “Happy early birthday.” She said and handed him a soft gift that contained yet another silly apron to his collection. This one, though, had the print of a female’s body. She turned to look at Blake and smiled, “Hi. I’m Lucy Saint.” She greeted and offered her hand to him. “So Guido, having a great time?” |
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| Stacy X | Jul 23 2013, 04:29 AM Post #9 |
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Neurochemical Control/ Reptillian Traits
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The rule was simple; never mix business with personal shit. It was no mean feat considering Stacy was in the business of getting pretty damn personal with people. A long time ago she’d learned how to maintain distance from those around her. Originally it had been more about survival; then it became a professional thing. And after the Purifiers it was a mixture of both. Few friends, no lovers. There were just colleagues she knew and clients she was still getting to know, paying for her time and talents by the hour. For years, Stacy lived by that rule and it worked for her. But then she’d washed up in New York and by June things had gotten just a little bit weird and… it was complicated. She’d been given a job that night. Stacy would die before she took orders from a pimp, but arranging a few ‘handlers’ was okay by her standards. More like recruitment consultants, they threw extra work her way that she wouldn’t have gotten by word of mouth alone. They got a cut, everyone went home happy. The Voodoo Dollhouse in Hell’s Kitchen was one such handler. And they’d gotten a request from some guy called Blake for the ‘freakiest’ stripper available. They had an employee roster packed with Suicide Girl fodder and fetish specialists. But when people asked for the freakiest, the Dollhouse called the snakewoman. She wasn’t sure who the birthday boy she’d been hired for was, but it was never that hard to find out. Nobody seemed to know where “Father Ted’s” was until one local (who eyeballed the bullwhip curled round her torso like a bad Indiana Jones cosplay) explained to Stacy that it was better known as the Stagger Inn. That was a name Stacy actually remembered hearing about a few times due to its hooker friendly room rentals. She was assured that the venue would be able to take the music she had on her MP3 player and pipe it out through their own sound system. But the place was packed and after squeezing her way through the gathered masses for twenty minutes it felt like she’d never find a member of staff who wasn’t too busy to deal with her. When someone she didn’t know rammed a slice of cake on a paper plate into her hands, Stacy decided to just go with it, scooping a finger through the centre filling to give it a taste test. The jam and buttercream combo was pretty good. “Sorry Dante!” Stacy’s reptilian eyes went wide at the sound of that voice yelling over the din. Her head snapped around in the direction it had come from. Tugging the hood of her jacket up she nudged another winding path through the revelers, balancing the cake as she went. The taste on the air told her enough, but she needed to see it with her eyes. Guido ‘the fucking Strong Guy’ Carosella. He was sat there in a pointy green and blue party hat that said “Birthday Boy” no less. “Oh come on…” Stacy whined. There was unlucky, and there was just downright ridiculous. She backed away as quickly as the crowd would allow for. Finding a corner at the far end of the bar to hide in, she stood eating cake and wondering what the Hell to do. She’d already had to cancel a few jobs in May thanks to various beating and bomb related damages. She couldn’t afford to start cancelling anything over trivial personal preference. A Golden Retriever wandered over after a few minutes, chin dripping with punch. He gave the cake in Stacy’s hand a long adoring look. “Oh fine.” She said, crouching down and breaking off a piece for him. Life, it seemed, just refused to let her have her cake and eat it. |
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| Strong Guy | Jul 23 2013, 04:52 PM Post #10 |
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Kyle of course took the whole ribbing good-naturedly. He usually did and to be honest it would have been impossible for him to be friends with either Jamie or Guido if he took himself too seriously. And of course it certainly didn’t hurt anything that Kyle was looking to be a few steps beyond giddy. Remembering their last drink-off Guido estimated that he had already drank enough to stifle a Canadian squadron, or maybe even an Irish bowling team. Wait, did the Canadians have squadrons? That’s just silly. Guido took another thoughtful sip off his fruity cocktail and then glanced over at his British buddy Blake who was already in mid-sentence with him. Despite his better judgment he took the paper and scowled down at it. “Aimee with an I, and a heart where the dot goes,” he said. He glanced over Blake’s head to the giggling blondie and flashed a bicep at her, twisting his wrist around to get a nice bowling ball sized bulge going on. They giggled and pretended to swoon and honestly Guido was as happy as could be with the attention. Especially when Blake broke out the good stuff with a toast. Far from bashful, Guido actually grinned from ear to ear as people all saluted him with their respective glasses of hard liquor and hooted and howled and then the music swelled loudly with some vintage ZZ Top. He almost didn’t hear Lucy over the din, but he looked down and answered her to the best of his ability. “Time?! It’s before midnight,” he shouted to her and then proceeded to dance and boogie, picking her up and spinning her around. She was pretty strong…she could likely return the favor if it crossed her mind. And someone started shouting that the stripper was here and there was more hoots and hollers and the lights began to dim. Guido’s grin grew even larger at the thought of a stripper. He elbowed Blake. “Aw man, you shouldn’ta. How’d you know what was on my list?” And he looked around to see if he could spot her with absolutely no idea who exactly he was about to spot. |
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| Trevor Fitzroy | Jul 23 2013, 06:35 PM Post #11 |
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‘Twasn’t his fault that he was stumbling into Father Ted’s – what a name, wasn’t it? – already quite a few sheets to the wind, but Trevor didn’t mind if he were to take the blame. It had been a very long day. Long week, really, and he was knackered and more ready for bed than anything else. But, Guido was his mate – a good one, at that, who had asked him what was wrong and taken him out now and then to cheer him up – so, he couldn’t just ignore a birthday. Even if the birthday was not the one listed on Guido’s W2s or in the office calendar. If the big Italian wasn’t going to say a word, the lanky Scot wouldn’t fill in the blanks for him. Instead, he would arrive a bit after the party had obviously started, gift in hand – which was obviously a bottle of some sort of liquor – and happy half-smile on his lips. Sure, he was wearing sunglasses at night, but he was old enough to remember that used to be cool – and not as old as Corey Hart – so Trevor had nothing to worry about except for watching the ground ebb and flow beneath his feet. ‘Twas a blessing to be drunk with friends, certainly, and Trevor was the last person to push away a blessing. He needed them as much – or more – than most of the lugs lining the bar and listening to Guido laugh, Kyle howl, and Blake do British things. Whatever they may be. Making his way to the little party, he pulled out a cigarette and lit it, not even thinking that the bar might be smoke free thanks to political appeasement going on in the City. He inhaled, felt a bit more steady, exhaled without falling, and then looked over at the birthday boy and got ready to yell out when the call came over the bar that there was a lady of ill repute in the House and that was something Trevor didn’t want to miss. Instead of saying a word, he meandered over toward the group, settling himself against the bar and near to Guido, but unobtrusive enough that he wouldn’t be in the way of any other male or inclined female having a look at the woman entering. ‘Course, he should’ve seen it coming – that he knew the lass, because how else could Murphy affect Trevor’s life? He wasn’t even Irish, for Crissakes! Staring, he realized that the woman entering the bar was the same one from a while back that he ‘rescued’ from some strangers and hadn’t seen again. His smile faded a bit and he worried his lower lip, trying to think of how he left things that evening. Couldn’t remember, of course, and that was worse because was he supposed to be happy to see her or otherwise? He didn’t know. The curse of alcoholism is not just the physical strain one puts on one’s body, it was the fleeting memory and other mental problems that piled up very neatly. ‘Twasn’t his evening, though. ‘Twas Guido’s. And so Trevor raised a finger to the bartender and ordered another for himself, first one here of the evening, and decided to not look in the woman’s direction. Not seen, not heard, that might be the way to go until she collected her dollar bills and left. |
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| Jet Black | Jul 28 2013, 04:33 AM Post #12 |
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Guido's birthday. Always an event. As far as she could remember they always had a celebration for the Strong Guy. Jet sat at a table seeing everyone celebrating, drinking, having a good time. Which was rare in the times they lived in. Jet kept a small smile, even as the ever clear and Red Bull was being dolled out. She passed and said, “I'll stick with my Coke.” Toasts were made, jokes were too. Jet stood up and walked over next to Guido to talk to him. “Happy Birthday, G.” She gave him a pat on his arm before hopping up on the bar top to sit on it and spoke again, in a low tone so no one else would hear, “But isn't your birthday like next month?” He was a very good friend of hers, of course she'd know when his real birthday was. But she wouldn't tell. It seemed like this was the break they needed. Then the announcement for a stripper were shouted. “Oh lord...” Jet shook her head. “Don't know who ordered one for you, G... But I almost wouldn't be surprised if it was a male stripper.” The blonde set her coke down next to her, and put her arms on her thighs as she leaned forward. She patted Guido on his back and spoke again, “Let's just hope your stripper isn't the body builder type.” Jet smirked at him and gave him a wink. |
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| Songbird | Aug 2 2013, 07:22 PM Post #13 |
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After someone started shouting that the stripper was here, there appeared to be a brief tussle near the entrance of the Irish bar. This tussle, of course, was caused by Melissa Gold shoving the guy that had shouted out that a stripper had arrived and it was conveniently timed when she had entered. Then the dude's girlfriend hadn't liked that, and for a moment there was a shoving and shouting contest on the other side of the bar. It only stymied when the guy said that he wasn't talking about her, but the woman who came in right behind her. “Oh,” Melissa said, adjusting her hair and looking back at the stripper while fixing her hair. Not bothering to let them see that she was embarrassed by the mistake, Mel pushed her way through the tavern to the other side where the bar where the party seemed to be taking place. She expected to know most everyone here, but it seemed that either Guido had friends that she didn't know about, or they were letting people in to fill the void due to a lack of friends. Surely it was the first choice though. “Hey Jet, Blake... Happy Birthday Guido!” Mel said when she reached the group, stepping over to Guido to give him a hug. She then slapped Blake on the back and took a seat on the other side of him, leaning one elbow on the bar as she looked across them. Glancing around she recognized several others here as well, such as Trevor, who was remaining quiet and drinking his drink. She gave him a nod in greeting, then looked back across Blake towards Guido. “Sorry I'm late big guy,” Mel said, taking a beer from the bartender when it was offered. “Did I miss you dancing yet? 'Cause if so, we are going to have to get back out there once I get limbered up.” |
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| Overkill | Aug 3 2013, 02:39 PM Post #14 |
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Kinetic Energy Manipulation
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Things were kicking off alright. So many people were there for Guido. People who Blake was close friends with, and some he didn't know. Still it was truly refreshing to see a gathering so bright and enjoyable as this. Jet was there, though she was being a party pooper and 'sticking to coke'. Blake remembered a period in his life where he had done the same. Only he had been doing it, it hadn't been cola and he'd been only too keen on partying as hard as was humanly possible. Trevor was there too, being surprisingly broody off to the side. He hadn't been the same for a while before then, and Blake had been hoping that a colossal booze up would have drawn him out of whatever funk he was in. Apparently not. Kyle was among the most enthusiastic to hear the call of Blake's offering, though violently stripping down may have been beyond what the Brit was hoping to achieve. "Awww put it away mate. We'll leave the nudity to the professionals shall we?" He asked with a cheeky grin that said he had something very specific in mind. Of course this was before the others even knew a stripper was on the way. Blake had only mentioned it to one other person, that person being Jamie and who knew where captain dupe was. Blake hoped he'd make it along though, with the way things were shaping up this was going to be a hell of a night. In truth he had no idea just how true that was. Some woman Blake had personally never met came over and gave Guido a gift before introducing herself. Blake nodded to her name like he was going to remember it, and offered a hand in return. "Nice to meet you. I'm Robert Tambling." All time top goal scorer for Chelsea until recently. 202 goals. Not that anyone in the states knew that, which of course made the 'use a random name off the top of your head' game all the better. The word broke out that the stripper had arrived and Guido turned straight to him. Blake supposed it was a fair call and shot the big man a grin back. "Because it's on every bloody list you've ever made!" Oddly enough that included the XFI inventory list once. Blake hadn't asked. He tried to push the image of Guido with a stripper in the supplies closet out of his mind as he spotted Melissa having some sort of scuffle with someone. Hardly headline news, he just hoped the guy hadn't tried to sneak a feel or they'd need an ambulance really soon. As their resident boom-box made her way over Jet expressed some concerns about Blake stripper-judgment. He took that personally. "I'll 'ave you know Jet, that my stripper judgment is impeccable. This woman is not only a lithe and well... A woman... But is also totally goin' to blow G's mind in the best way possible." He assured with absolute confidence as he slapped a pile of dollar notes into his big friend's hands. Songbird made it over and Blake returned her greeting as she arrived. When she mentioned getting Guido dancing however he had to interject. "There'll be plenty of time for dancin' Mel. Startin' with 'er." He said pointing out the stripper he'd spotted with a grin on his face. Little did he know that he had just introduced the catalyst that would take their night from awesome and memorable to less memorable and more 'when did we adopt a child?' |
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| Stacy X | Aug 10 2013, 04:05 AM Post #15 |
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Neurochemical Control/ Reptillian Traits
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[Figured I'd jump ahead of Ms Saint, but still molesting her as per request ^_^] Stacy was still crouched in the corner feeding cake to the dog when someone yelled out about a stripper. She stood up and looked to see a lot of people were actually focused on the girl with a funky pink dye job and more ink than a hooked squid. Of course that was around the point one guy caught sight of the bullwhip looped round her own scaly torso and yelled “Startin' with 'er!”. Well that was probably the cockney guy her booking girl mentioned. Sighing, she put her plate of cake crumbs down on the bar. At least this time, she seemed to have one of the barmaid’s attention. “Hey, you’re the… uh… entertainer, right?” She managed to ask diplomatically. “I’m Aimee. Sorry, we’ve been super-busy with all this.” She gestured around them. “But I remembered to save a piece of cake like you asked.” “Oh, no that’s okay, I already got some…” Stacy looked at the dog who’d started sniffing at the guy a few seats down from her. “No, for the show silly.” “Wha…Oh. Right. Yeah, cool. Thanks. Can you get me a Jack on ice, princess? Make that a double. Wait… Is it open bar?” “Uh-huh.” “Okay, triple then!” The new object of the dog’s interest was the only patron who looked more like he wanted to hide than Stacy herself did. “…Trevor?” Background noise, added to the 70s rock blasting away, all but drowned her out. Stacy was thrown somewhat, wondering why she hadn’t recognised the scent. A few more seconds to zero in and she realised it was because his body chemistry had actually shifted a little on some internal level. It would have taken a scary amount of ‘self-medication’ to get to that stage. Her mouth opened again to try shouting his name louder, even reached out to try and get his attention… but then a drink was shoved into that hand instead. The cold sweat of the glass reminded her she had business to attend to, and cash had to take precedence over compassion. “You want me to put your music on?” Aimee asked. “Nah. I brought a Devo mix but ZZ Top’s first album works well enough. Let it ride.” The music reminded Stacy of her late teens, crawling around after truckers and travelling salesmen in far-flung LA dive bars. Easy meat. She pushed back her hood, shrugged her coat off and handed it to Aimee. “I think what’s on, that was Guido’s choice. He’s got really good taste. He…” She trailed off, distracted by Stacy's leather get up, a corset tied up the front and trousers laced up the sides, all with worryingly delicate-looking gold thread. Stacy arched an eyebrow at the fawning tone in the barmaid’s voice. She looked over again at Guido, who had already managed to surround himself with Blake, Kyle, Lucy, Jet and Mel. Since the days of whoring around with wayward pop stars, Stacy had lost nearly all her friends. Guido on the other hand seemed to be doing better than ever. “Uh-huh…” She scowled, not liking the weird twinge that sight gave her… not quite what she’d call jealousy… Maybe. Probably nothing. She downed her drink, caught an ice cube between her teeth and crushed it while she uncoiled her little party trick. Back in Vegas, Stacy had learned how to be scarily accurate with whips up to twenty feet long. Balla Fire, Tanya Cheeks, Wipson Chayns, Viva Dallas – she’d learnt from the best; spent hours of practice cracking away to cut up lengths of raw pasta and bread sticks just so that she could take the end off a lit cigarette in a person’s mouth without so much as brushing the smoker’s nose. Sadly her original collection of whips had been burned up by the Purifiers… Yards and yards (and hundreds of dollars’ worth) of elaborately plaited cowhide and kangaroo leather, all went up in smoke. The one bullwhip she had now was only three feet long, but like many aspects of her work, Stacy was used to making a little go a long way. She picked up the plated cake slice Aimee had saved and took a deep breath. As “Bedroom Thang” started up she raised her arm, and with a flick of her wrist let out an ear-splitting crack above the crowd. There was a reason bullwhips were the favoured method for herding cattle. In time with every other beat, she let out perfectly placed whip-cracks to clear a path up to Guido and his little entourage. Her lips were pulled into a flawless smile but her eyes darted around as she approached. The occasional twirl here and there let her check a little more thoroughly. She was looking for any of the other do-gooders who’d crashed Typhoid Mary’s party. The only phones she could see pulled out were clearly for the camera function rather than making calls to the police. She was hoping that was a good sign. If anyone tried to arrest her, she was perfectly prepared to start handing out lashes (and not the sissy kind reserved for clients either). She came to a stop in front of the birthday boy. Kicking his legs apart she moved in to make herself heard over the general din. “Happy Birthday, Beefstick.” Her head tilted as she leaned in. What she had to say next wasn’t for the whole bar. “Your Brit friend there forked out for me, totally legit. I didn’t know this gig was for you.” The professional veneer of her smile took on a truer, roguish glint. She handed Guido the slice of cake with an unlit candle poking out of it. “I would just say sorry ‘bout before, but y’know there’s so many things I do better than apologies.” Freeing up her hand allowed her to reach up and trace a finger down his nose. The simple gesture allowed her to dose him up for a ‘Goodnight Special’. Once the chemical cocktail kicked in he’d have fun. But in the morning, with any luck, he’d forget he ever even saw her. Before twirling away, she scooped two fingers through the cake’s frosting. The first finger she licked clean herself in a completely obscene demonstration. Then her gaze settled on one of the girls still hovering near Guido, the one who, out of the three, looked the most straight-laced. “Mmm, seriously, you gotta try this.” Stacy offered the second scoop up to Lucy’s mouth. A second of skin contact was all she needed to work her voodoo and rip those laces open… “Oop, missed a spot.” she grinned, licking a stray sugary glob away from the corner of the other woman’s mouth. “That’s a sad lookin’ little candle on Birthday boy’s cake there.” She called out, moving on. “Anybody got a light?” |
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8:55 AM Jul 11