12103/Poolside Daydrinking

Poolside Daydrinking
Date of Scene:	22 July 2022
Location:	Swimming Pool / Patio Deck
Synopsis:	No description
Cast of Characters:	Betsy Braddock, Jamie Madrox

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Betsy Braddock has posed:
It has been a rather dull Thursday all told; No existential threats from rogue mutant hate groups, no Sentinels or other forms of hateful technology designed to destroy the entire homo superior race. No bigots with pitchforks and tiki torches. Not even any good juicy crimes to solve. What, pray tell, in the midst of all that ennui is a girl to do?

Day drink by the pool, apparently.

Betsy is sprawled out on a lounger, wearing the sort of teeny tiny little bitty bikinis that supermodels favor when they're out sunning. Hers is in black today. Sitting on the table beside her lounger is an mostly empty cocktail glass and a pitcher, as well as a bottle of SPF 45 sunscreen to protect her fragile British complexion from going completely KFC. The British psi-ninja is engrossed in a paperback book, seemingly zoned out of the world around her.

Jamie Madrox has posed:
Hopefully not too zoned out to catch the smackity-smack-smack-smacking of a dozen feet running across the tiled flooring around the pool as half a dozen Jamie Madroxes bum rush the pool and launch themselves into the air, tucking their legs in and cannonballing one after the other -- SPLASH, SPLASH, SPLASH, SPLASH, SPLASH, SPLASH -- sinking under the pool water.

Of course, there's a seventh Jamie -- presumably Prime but it's all but impossible to tell, even for telepaths -- walking up to where Betsy's lounging, beer in hand, boardshorts and tank-top, sunglasses. He tugs his sunglasses down and lets out a low whistle.

"Looking good, Bets."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
One lilac-purple eye opens to take in the splashing of the Madri, and she clucks her tongue at the six copies of the man beside her all sink to the bottom of the pool. "I'll go ahead and say it, luv." And she eyes the presumed Prime with both eyes now, wry little smile about her lips, "Enthusiastic, but poor form. 4/10 from the British judge."

Her score delivered and her attention caught, the psi-ninja telekinetically refills her cup with the mixed drink in the pitcher, before floating the glass to her outstretched hand. "Too kind, Jamie, my lad." She grins, mischievously. "That's why you're my favorite Jamie of the doubtless hundreds of Jamies out there."

Jamie Madrox has posed:
"You're assuming the rest of them don't think the same way," Jamie points out with a wink and a smile. He drags a lounging chair closer to her and sits in it sideways, facing her. "Wait for it," he says, gesturing to the dupes in the pool.

Then, almost as if on cue, the six dupes start to... dance? No. Not _quite_. It's synchronized swimming, and they are _not_ half bad at it at all. But then again, it only takes one dupe going out there into the world and devoting 24/7/365 into learning that _one skill_ for Jamie to be a master at it, and there's always at least a dozen Jamies out there, learning, consuming knowledge, gaining skills...

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"Know what they're thinking?" Betsy repeats, with feigned innocence, "Why, Mr. Madrox, what do you take me for? A telepath?" Not that she would ever 'peek' without permission, but that doesn't take away from the joke, does it?

The routine the dupes start is met with an impressed glance at Jamie Possibly-Prime, before she sips her cocktail with lady-like delicacy and watching the rest of the show. "I bet you could make a fortune on tiktok, mmm?" She finally says, setting her glass down to politely clap. "Very nicely done, boys."

Jamie Madrox has posed:
Three of the dupes lift the other three up and out of the water so they can bow,a nd then they all switch, so the other three can bow, too. Then they all drop into their routine again, practicing it another time.

Jamie smiles at Betsy. "I have a TikTok. @manyme. I mean, most people think it's just like, you know, special effects, and I kind of mess up the video sometimes to keep them thinking it. But they're easy to film." He takes another drink. "So what've you been up to lately, Bets?"

Betsy Braddock has posed:
Once the dupes accept the applause and go back to practicing, Betsy shakes her head in amusement and turns her attention to Jamie Prime(ish?). "Never quite got the appeal, but my agent occasionally sends me strongly worded emails about filming some of the dances." Betsy admits, ruefully, "Sometimes I wish I could just hire someone to manage my socials for me. But then it isn't as authentic and engagement goes down."

Oh, the plight of the entertainment professional! Cue the tiny violin music. But Betsy takes a sip of her drink, summons forth her stiff British upper lip, and moves on from the tragedy of it all when he asks what she's been up to. "Oh, just trying to keep busy, as one does." She tells him, "Bought a club in New York, Sion. Trying to rebuild my modelling career after the whole..." And she waves a hand vaguely in the direction of her face. "... thing." She chuckles, ruefully, "Not to mention the usual insanities of being here and part of a team. We were just in the Savage Lands, dealing with cyborg dinosaurs. With flame throwers, even."

Jamie Madrox has posed:
"I'd follow you," Jamie says with a bright grin and a shrug. He's never been shy about pointing out just how attractive pretty much everyone in this place is, after all. He shrugs and takes another drink. "You could just do the dances, Bets. They're short." He smirks.

"I should check the club out, I heard about it. Business is good, huh?" He rolls his eyes at the dinosaurs with flamethrowers. "Reasons I don't still run with this team except on reserve," he says, laughing. "There was a, like, Asgardian thing, with Asgardians attacking. I was kind of just cannon fodder for it though."