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The club wasn't so much a club per say, but was a rather occupied bar filled with young people. A dance floor became occupied quickly, with dancing, moving bodies. Smoke and perfume clouded the air with a tang of sweat. The dancers cheered, well, mostly the young girls did as another Beatles track was played, before they started to sing along and loudly, off key.
A green haired mutant stumbled free of the crowd, laughing softly as she broke free and made her way toward the bar. Lorna squeezed toward the free space, and hummed under her breath as she waited to get the bartender's attention. Illyana had convinced her to go out and party. And here she was.. and yet Wanda's warning still hummed in her head about drinking.
*
Dancing and music and alcohol? It was the perfect combination for a lot of trouble in a very short amount of time; and if there was anyone who would happily draw trouble to him like a magnet — and vice versa — it was none other than Tommy Shepherd. Why he's at the club that wasn't quite a club? It was hard to say. Maybe he wanted a drink. Maybe he'd planned to meet Hope. Maybe a lot of bodies in close proximity made easy pickings for a pickpocket and rent was coming due, there were a million possibilities that could be the answer and none of them mattered as it all changed when he made his way to the bar.
"/Lorna?/" Tommy says, voice laced with disbelief that he'd find /her/ of all people there. "Did you get lost or something? I didn't think this was exactly your scene." the platinum-haired boy offers, brows rising as he settles on a stool, one hand motioning to the bartender and then a bottle on the wall. Yes, he's curious, but apparently also thirsty.
*
A drunk girl, who was quite loudly singing along bumped into Lorna and she stumbled away from the bar at the familiar voice. She turned a sheepish look upon the silver haired mutant that came up beside her. Her arms crossing as if to hide the shortness of her dress and bare sleeves that went with it. Her hair was teased high with hairspray with a matching purple headband in the front.
"Tommy!" She bit her lower lip and blushed as she looked as if she was caught red handed. She made her way closer to him, avoiding getting stepped on in the process.
"And uhm, I know. But Illyana was suggesting we go out. And oh, Tommy it's terrible. Julian stopped returning my phone calls after we had dinner with tata." She blushed again, and looked down, wringing her hands.
"It always happens! I swear! Every guy that meets him bolts. And he was being nice! And I don't know what to do. I've only been training and studying. Gosh. I sound so lame."
*
Tommy has partially disconnected.
*
Tommy… well. Tommy was dressed as Tommy always dressed; he wasn't a trendsetter, or a square, but a rebel against… well, pretty much everything. Refusing to be defined by any one label and choosing to fly in the face of them all. Frankly, it was just way more fun that way.
"Oh, that's cool. Illyana's your roomie, right? Nothing wrong with a girls' night out and stuff; get out, unwind, act stupid, it's great, right? Right. Where's she at?" Then a pause. Then the /rest/ of the news hits home. First he blinks. Once, twice. Watching thoughtfully. What he says now will matter, he tells himself. It's important to say the right thing.
"Want me to find him and run him up a flagpole by his shorts? I could do that, you know. It'd be funny and it'd be a message not to mess with you and your emotions and such." Protective and troublemaking instincts satisfied by /that/ response, he moves on to part two of the problem - what she should do.
"You should confront him about it. If he's lame and not interested anymore… make him regret it. Go out with his best friends. Go out with everyone. In public, lots of PDA. Make it uncomfortable. I mean, he might be busy or something, but… if he's not? He's a jerk and should suffer." Pause. "I could make a list."
*
A faint laugh escaped her and Lorna glanced over her shoulder. "Former roommate. We ended up at the Xavier Institute, the Frost Institute kinda merged. I dunno. Official stuff and nonsense. We hang out still though." She shrugged and looked back to Tommy, pushing green hair back from her features. His words brought a strained smile to her lips before she was moving to try to hug him.
"No, no. Don't do any of that Tommy." She would lean back and away with a sheepish look. "I don't want to be that person, or seen as clingy or crazy or anything. Maybe he's just.. just busy. I dunno." She sighed and shook her head, but it was clear there was hurt behind the look.
"But Illyana suggested I get out and not dwell on things and have fun.. I was going to try something to drink.. but uhm.." She blushed, "I've never had anything to drink. I don't know what I'd like or anything.. and your mom did tell me not to.."
*
"Oh. Huh. Well, as long as you're happy with it and it still works out for your, uh… special needs, you know?" Key trying to say 'mutant' without saying 'mutant'. Tommy may be trouble made form, but that doesn't mean he wants to start a bar fight with a lovelorn Lorna involved; that just seems like a bad idea for /her,/ and darnit, he's the one meant to be at the center of his own hurricanes!
"No promises. /You/ might not want to be that person but I'm a big believer in payback, because otherwise you just become a doormat for people to walk all over. I mean, I don't have to say it's coming from you or anything, but…"
…yeah, Julian might be in some trouble.
Then there's a shrug, and a grin. "Having fun is always a good thing though. I mean, what's the point of living if you're just gonna be down in the dumps all day, right? Right. As for what to drink… if you've never drank before, maybe something fruity to hide the boozy taste." Pause, grin. "If you really wanna go against 'because Wanda told you not to', there's some hard stuff I could recommend, but no promises that I won't let you start dancing on the tables with a lampshade over your head. I might even get you the lampshade."
*
A nod, "Yeah, well, tata lives there. So it's okay. I mean I literally never get time off now because it's always conditioning, textbooks, studying German, Polish, French, who knows what else. Seriously, he wants me to know like everything. And Scott Summers? Total prick! I got into a fight with him the other day over 'civil' rights. He makes me feel like I'm an extremist just to say it's like important to stand up for yourself. You know?" She hooked a brow upwards and then some of her cheer faded again.
A hand reached out to pat his shoulder, "It's not worth it, okay? It's.. we hardly had started to go steady or anything. It doesn't really matter.." She mumbled, and deflated somewhat. Then his next grin and comments about drink earned a laugh from her.
"I don't know, get me something to drink that I'll like first. How about that? I'm an adult and I have never drank anything. So start there. Then when I'm less likely to complain, get me something that will make me not want to tell Wanda, or tata."
*
"That… well, personally I'd consider it a drag. I mean, I'm happier not being /directly/ under the Doc's nose — though, a lot of that probably has to do with Hope, but, I'll spare you the juicy details." Cue the cat that ate the canary grin crossing over the boy's lips, before she pats his shoulder… and he decides to spin on the barstool.
"What was the name of that drink Lisa dug…" Tommy trails for a couple moments, crinkling his nose, pursing his lips… generally scrunching his face up before… "Forget it. One sec."
Literally, one second is all it takes for him to go, and return to the stool with a glass in hand — brightly colored liquid that almost seems to glow is inside. What exactly it is? It's hard to say. But, the taste is a fruity one. "Try this — Hope can keep up with me, but Lisa was a lightweight." 'Like you probably are' goes unsaid. "She was more interested in her drinks being pretty than, y'know… drunk-y." Pause. "You want me to light it on fire? I could light in on fire. I'm sure I've got a lighter in here somewhere." …and if /he/ doesn't…
*
A nod, "I love being able to be around him more and all, but like, everyone treats me like a kid. Even Scott, and he's Wanda's age!" She pouted and shook her head, her arms crossing as she leaned against the bar.
"And ew, I don't need to know about you and Hope. So grody, you're my nephew." She blinked and he was back, drink in hand.
A sigh, and a smile, dry and amused followed. It was impossible to stay mad or even vaguely irritated with the speedster for long. She reached out to take the offered drink, eyeing the color.
"Well, cheers, to my first drink!" She sipped at it cautiously and blinked, "Woah! I can't taste a thing in that." She grinned and continued to sip at it.
"Groovy! Thanks Tommy! And no, don't light it on fire. I like it just how it is."
*
Illyana delivered Lorna unto the bar, and then slipped out again for Illyana reasons. Illyana reasons are generally decidedly valid reasons, and also reasons that nobody wants to investigate too deeply — it could be anything from needing to powder her nose to something requiring her attention (and possibly her sword) in Limbo. 'Illyana reasons' is usually a sufficient statement.
She returns to the bar in her best clubwear — a black dress printed with bright yellow daffodils, narrow straps over her shoulders, prim bodice. Her hair is pulled back into a rare ponytail. She could be any American cheerleader type. She plops onto a stool next to Lorna. "This guy bothering you?" A wink at Tommy.
*
"Yeah, well, when you're the teacher's kid people are always gonna see you differently. It's just the way things work, you're always an automatic potential stool pigeon, people think looking at you the wrong way is gonna 'corrupt you forever and piss off daddy'." Tommy offers, rolling his eyes.
But a grin's quickly back upon his lips. "Why do you think I tell you these things? The faces you make when I talk about me and Hope are /priceless./ I'm tempted to make a run for the polaroid." Snicker. Snicker. Cue the sticking out of the tongue.
"And that's the point! Uh…" Out of one of the pockets of his jacket comes a slip of paper - it's one of the many that have his name and (old) number. Habits of a poor person; don't throw away things that can be useful, even paper. Upon that is scribbled a mixture of drinks, and these are handed over to Lorna. "The recipe. I wouldn't do more than, like… five, maybe seven if you've got someone to help you get home." Is this with Tommy's metabolism, or not? He's not saying. Maybe he doesn't know for sure.
Then over to the newcomer, a flash of a practiced smile, a two fingered salute. "Hey! You must be Illyana. Heard lots of juicy details about /you/ from this one here." Cue amused wink back at the blonde; trouble, thy name starts with T. "I've started her off right, I'll let you take over. If she remembers everything that happens tonight, you didn't do your job right!"
…and one blink of the eyes he's there, the next? He's not and the door is swinging closed behind where he made his departure. A couple of people might have been knocked over in the process and are likely one wallet lighter each for the effort. Guy's gotta pay rent somehow.
*
Lorna continued to sip at her drink despite Tommy's rapid fire answers, she looked unruffled. Her dress was purple on purple patterns, hemmed short with quick modifications and a matching headband. It went rather nicely with her green hair and the pink drink in her hand. She blinked, taking the recipe as he offered her the paper. "Uh.. seven? I think—"
And then Illyana snagged her attention.
"He's my nephew, so it's cool. It's like his job to bother everyone." She grinned and when she looked back to Tommy? He was gone. A huff of a breath escaped her, faint irritation.
"He does that often too."