1963-12-06 - Stranger Danger
Summary: Drugs taken from a party in the Village have some side-effects…
Related: Buy the Ticket Plot line
Theme Song: None
piotr jean-paul kitty jean 


It's late by some standards and early by others. The thick dark night envelopes the city, interrupted by little other than the glowing lights of the cityscape. It would be a cozy quiet night if it weren't for the thrum of music faintly cutting through the air. On this side of the Village, however, no one seems to care about the noise thanks to the absence of real residences. The industrial zone is a place where people come to relax.

Inside, the warehouse is weirdly welcoming. The bright colours and array of 60s mod-dress with decor matching the same bounciness of the general rhythm and beat of the music. People dance to the music in various ways and forms. The faint smell of local grass emits from the room — this is a culture that embraces altered states.

The twist begins to play, and one of the wallflowers squeals loudly. Delight is written across Kitty Pryde's face as she begins to twist to the now 'old' song. Yes, Kitty is pleased. "Come on~" she reaches for someone's hand. "Dancing is good~ Releases stress and it's super fuuuunnnn~" the singsong tone of her voice reflects that same delight. Yes, she is pleased.


Piotr is not given to dancing. Watching Kitty dance, on the other hand, is welcome. He leans against a post, arms crossed over his chest, and tries not to be more intimidating than he is. As useful as it is to be enormous, it's also a little depressing when people startle and get out of his way. He doesn't want to ruin anyone's fun.


Getting out was good for the goose and the gander. Where Jean thought she would have a plus one, she lost that one and gained two more. The somber Piotr, and the happy Kitty who Jean willingly leeches those feel good emotions off of. All it took was a little focus. Her own dress was nothing to shake a stick at. Lime green, socks with bows, black and white shoes with a tiny little bow that decorates her socks. Her red hair of the sun tied into a ponytail that sways whenever she walks, and wide rimmed glasses because she actually -did- need the perscription.

Well, might as well!

Jean reaches out to take Kitty's hand, but she manages a twirl like a Queen Bee dressed in green! That twirl tugs Kitty out onto the floor, her hands releasing the womans as she curls hers into a fist, her hips swaying back and forth in tune with her feet. "Is this how it's done?!" And she was doing it right! She even put her back into it with a lean and a curve, and for once, she laughs!


Speaking of ruining anyone's fun.

"I thought that was you." An amused-sounding, French-accented voice cuts through the noise from somewhere to Piotr's left and a moment later, there is Jean-Paul Beaubier, a broad grin on his face as he weaves through the crush of bodies to join the Russian at his post. He is, once again, clad in all black, because that is always in style.

Grinning up at Piotr, Jean-Paul calls, "I must confess, I did not expect to see you in a place like this. Or are you a chaperone?" he teases, immediately rising onto his toes and craning his neck to follow the man's gaze into the crowd.


A girlish giggle has Kitty finding her rhythm on the floor. "You are doing amazing!" Kitty calls over the music with a laugh in her voice. Everything about Kitty is light delight — an obvious acknowledgment of the mood of the room. She spins once tightly, a motion that she executes with near perfection thanks to dance and ninja training; spinning is something of a talent.

"we should do this every night!" because Piotr would like that, surely.

The dance floor itself is thick with bodies, evidently this is tonight's scene. Young men and women enjoy the twist and engage in an entire turn movement with every part of their bodies, creating a motion this way and that as they move.

"Hey luvs," a dapper young man says to the girls and lifts his eyebrows. "Having fun?!" he calls over the music.


"Good to see you again, Jean-Paul. My Katya," Piotr says fondly, nodding toward a lovely young woman with dark brown curls. "She enjoys these things, and I enjoy her being happy, so I suppose I'm happy to be here." He gives Jean-Paul a little smile that fades slightly when he sees a man speaking to the girls. "It is also useful in case anyone chooses to be difficult, not that she cannot look after herself."


"I.. Aiya-dunno!" Jean calls out over the music. She was still twisting, legs bent, shoulders now joining into the movement as each joint is worked into a tizzy to the song. "I'm.. I feel like my limbs are starting to burn! My poor back!" Even though it seemed like Jean was complaining, she really wasn't. There was a laughter in her voice as well, cheeks constantly puffed due to the smile that remains upon her face, every now and then, a fist raises to bump the glasses back upon her nose but there was no trouble there!

Jean was of the friendly sort. Friendly as in, she'll promise someone the world, say that she trusts them with her life, doesn't know how to -not- talk to strangers and offer them a bite to eat. Call it sheltered living, living in which one grew up with electric shock therapies in the form of dinner. Quite possibly why she was thin as she was now. So the mans approach was a welcome thing, Jean immediately beaming a toothy grin towards the man as she nods her head in earnest.

"Yes! This is my first time!" She hollars out to the man, even giving a little bit of a lean. "I'm doing the twist! Watch this!" Her hand shoots up, and with a smooth transition, she twirls like a pretty ballerina who lost her footing with a stumble, then quickly begins to twist her hips again, laughing the entire time.


Little known fact: 'My Katya' is Russian for 'ruin all of Paul's fun.' Jean-Paul just sighs wistfully before immediately dismissing the thought. "That's her?" he asks curiously, peering towards Kitty for a moment before he nods once, as if granting his approval was somehow a necessary burden. "I suppose that I cannot chastise you for being here while she is off dancing, since she seems to be having fun with her friend," he muses thoughtfully.

His expression does not change even as he focuses his attention on the dapper fellow who has approached the girls. He has been in too many clubs in too many countries to ever really relax in them anymore. Honestly, one wonders why Jean-Paul continues to try.


The young man is given a once over by Kitty, and a bright smile in turn. Like Jean, friendliness comes easily. She chuckles as Jean complains about her limbs and back; it's an unusual motion, but fun regardless. Her face beams and her eyes trail the room, to shoot Piotr a bright toothy grin… that reflects concern when his smile seems to shift. A trace of mischief sparkles behind hazel eyes as she issues him a small tick of her head … and Mister Friendly's friend reaches for her hand for balance. "You alright?" she asks with a flicker of a smile.

"Yeah, thanks to you, Kid," the fellow chirps. "You having fun?"

Kitty's eyebrows draw together lightly, and a touch of hesitation seems to colour her expression. "I am!"

Meanwhile, Mister Friendly "And you're such a natural!" the young man laughs towards Jean, offering her a hand as she stumbles just a little. "You good?!" he chuckles lightly. Evidently everyone enjoys the twist. He looks through the haze and back towards the women again. "My friend and I…" his head ticks towards his other friend "… were wondering if you both wanted to have more fun…"

That can't be good.


Piotr is not watching with the air of the protective boyfriend. He is, however, watching with the air of a man who has had to throw down more times than he'd like and is weighing how much of a fight he's going to get into here and now. It shows in the way that he gauges distance, glances around for the exits, and then brings his attention back to the dance floor.

Is this the only little scenario of its type? Is anyone else watching? Is anyone leaving? He's just gathering information — that includes looking over to see if Jean-Paul is also taking all this in. They've already fought together once, maybe tonight will be twice.


Is this song ever going to change? Jean idly wonders how many times someone can twist it out to a good tune before they've had enough. It wasn't as if she was having enough, it was just an idle thought to keep others idle thoughts at bay. But back to reality, Kitty was near grinned at, Jean's fingers jazz-handing towards the brunette, her head bopping back and forth in cool and easy wiggles as she flower childs all over the place. Screw the twist.

It's funky monkey time!

Her arms were flailing limbs of delicateness that paint the picture around Mr. Friendly. Glasses were cut with fingers in the shape of V's as she wiggles her head back and forth, lips pursed with a faux seriousness as her fingers turn to fists to begin to pound the angry town!

Yeah! Monkey time!

Though, his question has her brows shooting up, her gaze falling towards Kitty and then to the friend, and then to Mr. Friendly yet again. Jean doesn't take social cues well, just ask how Kitty and Piotr had gotten together. "Okay!"



As soon as Jean-Paul realizes that Mr. Friendly has a) a friend, who has b) taken Piotr's girl by the hand, his posture subtly changes. "Piotr. Would you be terribly offended if I asked your Katya for a dance?" he asks the big man, and without waiting for a response, he begins to push his way through the crowd to approach Kitty, Jean, and their new 'friends.'


"I don't think that's a good — " Kitty begins only to be interrupted by Jean's bright 'Okay'. Huh. Okay, then. Apparently Jean is having more fun. Kitty's eyes flit between the pair and her lips part wordlessly and she tries to work around some speech, but before she can get a word out, her hand is given a squeeze. Right. Random dude is still holding her hand. Her eyes darken.

Jailhouse Rock plays in the background, and the twist finally ends.

Mister Friendly reaches into his pocket and extracts several small blue pills. He immediately downs one, Mister Friendly's Friend grasps another, and two are held out towards thew women.

"I'm not sure this is a good idea — " Kitty begins as her hand rather magically finds its way out of Friend's grasp. Absently, her eyes trail to Jean-Paul who is treading towards her, and her eyes flit to the other men, "Friend of yours?"


"Katya is her own person. She will tell you 'no' if she does not wish to dance." Piotr doesn't mind at all, he's not remotely threatened by someone that attractive dancing with his girlfriend. For one thing, Jean-Paul is less likely to provoke aggression than Piotr is, if he intervenes in something. For some reason, men seem perpetually inclined to attempt to fight him and it's deeply irritating. He exhales sharply, then pushes away from the post to follow Jean-Paul a few paces behind.


Kitty wasn't ignored. Jean just didn't hear her at the moment. She was busy moving her arms like a snake towards Mr. Friendly, even turning once more to step in front to give a pose that.. just looked weird as all get out. Social cues, totally missed. This is what happens when you're in a room full of feel good vibes; empath or no, everyone was having fun and it was infectious. Except for Piotr. He didn't seem to be having fun. He was not infected. For another turn sees them upon approach and with a face front towards Mr. Friendly, Jean watches as the pills were drawn from his pocket, popped.. and then offered.

And then Kitty speaks.

Somewhere in there, Jean -knows- it was a bad idea, but she does hold her hand out for the pills that were possibly dropped into her palm. With both of the pills fingered, she lifts them up towards the light with a little bit of a frown. "Where in the world is the fun in this?" It was an honest question, at least.


Good question, Jean. One moment, there are pills held between her fingers. The next, they're gone.

Of course, the slightly windswept-looking man now standing next to her might be why. Jean-Paul finishes tucking the pills into his pocket and eyes the two men with a flat, unimpressed stare.



"It's called Vigour," Mister Friendly explains lightly. "Take it. It's fun." And even as he says it, the fellow downs the pill, shoving it back with a single motion. His friend does the same. They shrug at the unimpressed Jean-Paul.

And in mere seconds, one of them is aflame and the other solid ice.

Eyes trail across the dance floor and across the room 'mutants' seem to be popping up out of nowhere.

Kitty's breath hitches in her throat, and she reaches out to grasp Jean's hand. "We need to go. Like five minutes ago." She swallows hard.

Of course, Mister Friendly winds up to punch Jean-Paul with a tight fist full of flames.


Piotr swears in Russian and shifts form before surging through the crowd toward the chaos that's about to erupt.

"I knew this was too much fun to actually be any fun," he says mildly to Jean-Paul. He's not worried about Jean-Paul, to be honest. The other man could be home having tea before Piotr could tie his shoelaces. Piotr has seen him in action.

"Katya, Jean, we need to make sure this does not get out of hand."


Within a blink the pills were gone. Jean was still holding her fingers up to the light at a half pinch as her head rears back in disbelief. Well, it was a lot better than what she was going to do, quite possibly offending the friendliest guy in the room by tossing them into the garbage pail or stomping them beneath her feet! Sweet! She dodged -that- particular bullet right there.

"Well.. I lost mine.." Jean says all too casually, her shoulders lifting in an innocent shrug as she glances towards JP. Before she could even speak to the handsome, young fellow, she was whipped up by a Kitty, her foot possibly the only thing that was seen as she marvels at the way the two men light up. Holy shit! They were mutants! They all were mutants!

The thrown punch towards JP has Jean's hand throwing up. One good save deserves another, but there was a little hope that she's managed to block the punch to her new found savior with a small wall of TK that guards his face. "Wait, we're not leaving?" She asks Piotr.. Guh…

…THIS IS GOING TO BE SO AWESOME! "Do.. don't we need our supersuits?" She whispers aside to Kitty. "..I think we should get our supersuits." Giddy Jean is giddy. No one should be -this- happy at doing some heroing.


When the flaming fist comes towards Jean-Paul's face, he doesn't visibly flinch. He is surprised, but his mind just works so fast that his reaction is there and gone before most could even see it. He stands his ground, which means that the little wall of TK that springs up between his face and the fiery punch still has something to protect. "…oh. Merci."

He thinks for a moment, eyes scanning the room, before offering Piotr a wry smile. "I do not know if that will be possible," he says, sounding apologetic as he zips around behind Mr. Friendly. "But we should at least try to prevent the place from burning down, yes?"


Kitty arches a single eyebrow back at Piotr, but there isn't time to react as mayhem breaks out throughout the room, causing her to reply swiftly to Jean, "No time!"

The man on fire sends a large blaze up towards the ceiling, causing it to alight. The flame licks the ceiling, causing it to spread and grow.

A will of win from a girl along the wall sweeps anyone in its vicinity away — forcing them to be pushed around by a vague twirl of her wrists.

A laugh emits from the ice fellow in a cold chuckle. He shoots a blast of ice in front of him to skate on across the floor, moving like a speed skater as he creates a surface for himself to move.

"I'll get people out of here — ! Deal with — " but even before Kitty can finish her sentence, the brunette is racing to move a group away from impending flame.


Piotr, rather dispassionately, smashes a fist into the back of the fire-thrower's head. It's a calculated blow on the thickest part of the bone, but it's gauged to drop the man like a stone.

"Jean, we need to get people out, keep them from panicking," he says as he wades toward the doors. He plans to take them down, and as much of the wall as he can, in order to make an exit. He would simply make a hole but people know where the doors are and will head for them regardless, like lemmings.


No time. Got it. The fire to the ceiling has her eyes lifting in wonder, that inner-demon thing nearly calling out in a fit of glee as her own eyes strike a flame. Almost enchanted, her feet nearly rise from the floor in flight, until Piotr calls through the fog which snaps her out of her reverie. "RIGHT!"

There was no protecting Jean-Paul's face anymore, he was already on the move. So she pulls into herself, her eyes closing as fingers press to her temples. If one could see the act of psionics or any sort of gift that Jean possesses; there would be a wave that ripples through the crowd, mostly to those who were innocent and not hopped up on Vigour..


The voices would come at whispers to those minds that she touches, urging them to follow the silver man who makes for the exit, urging them to not trample and yet to take care of those who weren't fast enough to make it or fall in their mild fits of panic.


Well. Since Piotr has their fiery friend well in-hand…

Jean-Paul seems to flicker out of sight before he reappears across the room, a gust of wind left in his wake. Appropriate, since it's the woman manipulating the air that he's making a bee-line for. "I do not suppose I could just ask you politely to stop?" he calls towards her, his hands spread. "I do not know how my new friend — "

Jean-Paul gets his answer when what feels like a solid wall of wind carves a path towards him, and judging by the hole it cuts in the wall behind where he had just been standing, he is damned lucky he is so fast. She, however, is less so. A disappointed noise comes from behind her, and then a concussive blast of blue-white light slams into her back to propel her out the hole she just made.


The fire man crumples to the ground. Vigour may have some benefits, but it doesn't seem to bear with it new fighting style.

The door is forced open by the large metal man. The double doors give way underneath the pressure from the metallic man. A flood of people follow in turn thanks to Jean's instructions. The people flood out, running this way and that in order to leave the building catching fire!

The wind woman is pushed out the hole, flying into the world outside thanks to the punt through the wall.

It seems like the situation is getting resolved, but the high emitted from the Vigour doesn't seem to be wearing off any time soon. For anyone paying attention, everyone with an invigorated high also seems to have abilities of some sort.


Piotr is paying attention. It's not that he's Mister NoFun (he's kind of Mister NoFun) but he's got an abundance of caution and he was watching all the various little exchanges and interactions leading up to all hell breaking lose. He widens the gap for people to flee, keeping an eye inside for anyone in need of help.

The powers he's seen exhibited would not be out of place among the X-Men — they are not average mutants, either. It's not difficult to put two and two together and, even as he's trying to resolve the situation, he knows that someone needs to make a reliable account to the mansion.


The people were getting out just fine; a mental manipulation of comraderie is what does the trick. With a lowering of herself to the ground, Jean helpfully places an arm around a girl to lead her towards the exit. It was a sheer mess, the night of fun turned into something so horrible but yet Jean.. that lightness really never left her. Thankfully, she didn't do something inappropriate as cheer or clap, the adrenaline rush kept a straight face upon the woman as she quickly darts into the middle of the room.

It was a quiet loom, the fire upon the ceiling may cause a backlash soon, but she remained a beacon of direction as she still will those others -out-. "We don't have much time!" Jean calls out.


Anyone who is not making their way to the exit(s) on their own will soon find themselves visited and encouraged along by Jean-Paul, some more physically than others. He's fast enough to help clear the room, and the fact that he can fly means that Frosty's ice patches aren't the hazard for him they might be for others.

If the ice wielder wants to stay inside a burning warehouse once it has been cleared of innocents, Jean-Paul is not going to lose any sleep over it. He's just not that good of a person.


And as the room clears out, it becomes strangely peaceful inside (aside from the fire) as the heroes manage to evacuate the building — even those who are high and troublesome have been made to exit — albeit to further locations. Once the dust has settled, and it feels like the world is coming down from whatever oddity happened, the heroes have a few moments to breathe.

Kitty solidifies just outside the warehouse, gaze askance to her comrades as her arms tug over her chest. A glance is given to her dress — one of the few she owns and wears, "So." There's a long pause as she attempts to formulate some thoughts. Instead of thinking in fast forward, she notes, "That was odd." Good job, Kitty.


"That was illicit and dangerous." Piotr's jaw tightens. "We must inform the correct — authorities." He hesitates on that last word. "I had no idea that was even possible." It's sinking in, now, how incredibly powerful and risky that kind of drug would be. "I cannot imagine that the police do not… how could they have missed it? I have seen nothing in the papers about this drug. Did they say a name?"


The cleanup really wasn't done. While everyone was fleeing, Jean at least had the niceities to levitate the bodies of the fallen, drawing them out into the open and allowing them to rest in a safe space. Semantics be damned, Jean was pumped and ready to go, all the while her eyes aglow as she watches the building burn.

All in all, no one was hurt. People were in good spirits, save for being hopped up on drugs. With a glance around, she gives a slight shrug towards Piotr, moving towards the firebug to check his pockets for more of the pills. "I'll give one to Moira.." If she had found any. That's the /least/ she could do.

After shaking the unconscious man down, she approaches the rest of them with a solemn look, a grin slowly pulled upon her face as she does the most un-Jean thing possible.

"That. Was fucking. AWESOME."


No sooner does Jean say 'I'll give one to Moira' than Jean-Paul is at her side again. Calmly, he reaches out for one of her hands, turns it over, and drops one of the two pills into her palm. He just assumes Moira is some kind of a scientist, or at least a giant nerd. What could go wrong.

"I do not mean to alarm you, but I think she has developed a taste for it," Jean-Paul says dryly to Piotr, loosely folding his arms across his chest as he eyes the redhead. Is he going to chastise her? Hell no.


"Vigour," Kitty deadpans to Piotr. Her eyes trace the skyline and her head shakes lightly, "Whatever it is, I've never seen anything do that before." Her lips curve downwards and she emits a long sigh. "That is incredibly dangerous." No question about it. Alarms ring in the distance earning a deeper frown. Of course stye would. "We should… maybe think about heading out."


"I believe I am long-since out of alarm where Jean is concerned," Piotr says, not unkindly. He winks at Jean before he changes back into his normal appearance. "That was incredibly helpful, Jean." He assumes that the orderly evacuation was due to her good work.

"We should definitely depart, though I fear for the welfare of the attending officers they are unlikely to differentiate between us and…the rest." Piotr offers Kitty his hand. "Perhaps another venue?"

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