16939/Pincers, Are There

Pincers, Are There
Date of Scene:	16 January 2024
Location:	Sion - Nightclub
Synopsis:	Dancing the night away at Club Sion!
Cast of Characters:	Roxanne Spaulding, Emma Frost, River Banks, Caleb Dykstra, Lucas Trent, Noh-Varr, Quentin Quire, Julian Keller

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Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
"Go white girl! Go white girl! Go white girl!"

That would be the chants and shouts this evening at Sion. The club isn't usually this rowdy, but with it being one of those hip hop nights, that lends itself to dance battles and challenges.

All sorts of people are gathered on the dance floor. Humans, metas, and mutants alike bump and grind against each other, and the body heat of all those gathered makes it practically sweltering inside.

Said white girl is one purple haired Roxanne Spaulding. She's in the midst of a dance battle with someone with a rather sinuous serpentine like frame and body (Cobra-lalalalala). With her opponent just having finished seeming to charm the crowd, that's when she steps in and begins mimicking her opponents serpentine movements to match the groove of the song.

From there, she raises her arms in the air, mixing waacking and voguing, moving her arms back and forth, spinning them around, while keeping her gaze upon her opponent the entire time. With a spin and a deathdrop on the floor as the song finishes, the crowd cheers, and she huffs and puffs on the ground.

"A draw!" she calls out, dusting herself off, before shaking snake-girl's hand before beaming brightly. "DO THE BAR!" And off she goes with the crowd.

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma Frost is coming out of the office after having checked to see if Elizabeth is there. Having not had any luck, Emma Frost goes to glance upon the dance floor after hearing the chants. The girl isn't recognizable to her, not that a punkette should really stand out that's not Quire. She goes to cross her arms to just watch while looking tenderly amused.

Emma's always been one for the more formal styles of dance.. At least since she was a teenager. Too many things from that era have long since spoilt her ability to enjoy them. She just simply gives a nod in passing if Roxy happens to notice her (nt that Roxy might care, eww old woman). Emma idly goes to look about the room, seeing if anyone else familiar is about.

River Banks has posed:
    At the bar, a straw-blonde young woman was sitting, a mostly empty glass in front of her as she checked her phone. Seems like she's here alone. Makeup helps to cover a scar coming up from her chin towards her lower lip, a mesh shirt beneath a black mini dress, knee-high boots with a decent platform and heel crossed at her knees as she gives a mildly cross expression, locks falling over her face as she reaches to tuck her phone in a pocket of her black leather jacket, and she looks up. Scion was not quite her scene, but she was supposed to be meeting someone to celebrate.

    And as usual, River was stood up. She sees a crowd coming towards the bar, and she motions the bartender for another drink before the crowd hits the bar.

Caleb Dykstra has posed:
So Caleb said to himself, 'why not vent out at a bar, and forget all your life's worries for at least a night?'

What could go wrong?

He arrives at the club when people are cheering for the 'white girl', so out of curiosity, he moves in to check what it's all about.

"Nice moves", he comments to himself when he sees the dance battle.

Once that's over, he goes to the bar, and orders himself something to drink, taking in the mood of the place and see what's happening around him.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
For her part, she was dressed in a dark sweater dress with a turtle neck, matching leggings, and a pair of mid heeled knee high boots. If it wasn't for her pink hair, one could easily mistake her for a goth... until they saw her booty popping. Goths dont booty pop.

Roxie finally arrives at the bar, seeming to have a grand old time as she orders a neon green midori sour. Leaning back, she lets out a soft sigh and just closes her eyes for the briefest of moments to calm herself down from the dance battle.

Hearing someone reference the dance, she looks on over to Caleb and offers a cheeky grin. "Wasn't my best work, but it's hard to compete with someone who looks like a lamia. There's no way my hips can move like hers."

As she says that, she raises her drink in the direction of the snake-y mutant as a toast before taking a sip.

Her brows raise as she glances about to spy Emma. There's a shake of her head. . o O (The olds should not be in the club after 9 PM. Gross)

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma Frost is rather amused as she picks up that particular thought from Roxy. Oh, to be judged by the young.. Ah well, she has to play to her role. And if Betsy does make a show then she will wait to see how the punkette reacts to her. Emma goes to tap her hands over along her thigh to the music, going to order something from the bar to be brought over to her. Rather than going to it to order, she would just raise a hand over and gesture at the waiter to come to her, speak, and then simply pass along a very large denomination bill to justify the somewhat stretching of the normal rules of service here. Benefits of being rich and on good terms with the club manager.

Perhpas getting a glare or a bit of a stare from the others at the ever so subtle flaunting of station.

Lucas Trent has posed:
Lucas Trent arrived shrugging off a leather jacket, handing it off at the coat check and gliding out through the people towards the dance floor. He's walking with the swagger he always carries, even out of costume. He's broad shouldered, with dark hair turning more salt than pepper, a strong jawline and a dangerous look in his eyes.

He snags a quick beer, taking the bottle straight and draining it. Take a lot to give him a buzz, but it felt right, just part of the party. He's wearing black and white camo pants and combat boots, along with a black A-line tank that shows powerful shoulders and muscular arms. He has a bit of chest hair floofing out the top of that tank.

And then he starts to dance. A gay man who's been dancing in discos since they were called discos, endowed with superhuman speed, agility, reflexes, with nothing to fear and no fucks to give. He spins and flicks, striking a pose and working his way around the crowd. No partner needed.

River Banks has posed:
    River spies a familiar face among the crowd, giving a slight smile to Caleb, though she doesn't wave. She accepts her whiskey sour, and sips it quietly as she watches the 'kids' and the 'olds' measure each other up.

    Admittedly she's far more at home with cowboy hats and honky-tonks, but this is proving to at least be amusing even if she's alone.

    "Evenin' ma'am." she states to Emma Frost, leaning out of her way.

Caleb Dykstra has posed:
"But still, despite your disadvantage you came out in a...", wait, wait, there's a pun coming here, "...thigh?"

Caleb chuckles at that one, but waves a hand in dismissal. "Sorry, sorry... My puns are compulsive." He introduces himself, "I'm Caleb."

He looks at Emma, having seen her before, and offers a nod. He honestly has doubts she'll introduce herself, given her clear socialite status.

So onwards, to River. "Hey, nice to see you here, River. How's your lil' brother?"

His glance drifts towards Lucas momentarily, though no opinion is exatly formed. To him, for the moment, he's another dancer in the crowd.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
The sounds of one song fades into another. This time, an airy introduction and a low kick rhythmic beat. The synthpad sounds soon is joined by a higher electronic string set and then snapping and high kicks can be heard.

The crowd starts to let out a happy little yell, especially when the synth goes into a set of triplets. Still a crowd favorite after all these years, the sounds of Madonna whispering 'VOGUE, VOGUE' brings out people onto the dance floor.

Roxie is most assuredly one of those people, as she looks towards Caleb and flashes a toothy grin. "WOMP WOMP." THat's when she starts bouncing her way towards the dance floor, spinning and flashing a smile to let people know it's an invite to dance before she spins once more as she heads towards Lucas. He was one of those whose dancing actually was... dancing, not just flailing around or bumping and grinding mindlessly.

There's a bounce and soon, she's in front of the older salt and pepper man, as she forms squares framing her features with her arms and wrists bent. Someone his age might recognize the original choreography before she spins and adds her own, voguing while doing the running man!?!?

"Come on, VOGUE! VOGUE!" Madonna's voice reverberates through the club at this point.

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma Frost would tap her fingers along her side while looking at some of the arrivals. Hmm, interesting. Betsy does draw a rather eclectic crowd in. She doesn't notice Lucas, or if she did she wouldn't recognize him. Caleb gets a distant salute from her as she drinks her Long Island Iced Tea. Everything is quiet tonight and it looks like the dangers are enjoying themselves. WHich is the point of it. So long as there's not a disco night going on. Only ALison gets to do those sorts of things.

Her fingers would tap over at her sides to the beat, and she relaxes.

River Banks has posed:
    "Mr. Caleb, good ta see ya." River's southern drawl is clear as she leans back a moment. "Brother's been doing just fine, how's your sister?" she questions as she relaxes, more of the dancers moving to the floor.

    "Ah like dancin', but this sorta dancin' isn't my flavor." she comments just above the music, and sips her whiskey sour again. "But they do look like they're havin' fun." she murmurs.

Noh-Varr has posed:
Into the two-way dance-off comes a young man with silvery swoopy hair, silvery stubble on a movie-star jawline, and a strong, athletic frame dressed in a green mesh shirt and a pair of snug silver jeans with a black leather harness.

And by come into, I mean he's duck-walking into the cleared space around them, crouched down while he bounces forward, stern-faced and touching his elbows perfectly in time to the music. "Hello." He greets Lucas as he bounces up to his feet, "Deathdrop." And he does just that, one leg extended while the other bends and he bounces to the ground, rising up with a nod towards Roxanne.

Lucas Trent has posed:
Lucas Trent is working the dance floor quite ferociously. He isn't shy about taking space for himself and anybody who tries to infringe on his space will likely find themselves rebuffed unless he finds himself face to face with Roxie. He's familiar with the young lady - he served briefly as a sort of dark uncle to the Gen13 kids here, a few years ago, before he'd come in from the cold and he'd still been living in the shadows.

No words needed, he slips into dance battle mode. He plants his feet and can vogue right back with the best of them. Well, maybe a few words needed.

"I know I'm old, but we can do a dance from this century, girl."

He grabs Noh-Varr by the wrist and pulls him in, giving him a twirl and a dip, no kiss, but just a snap of his teeth before he brings the young alien back up with a flourish.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
Her brows raise as she sees the little toothy nip in the direction of someone else kinda-sorta familiar to her. "YAAAAAAAAAS Uncle Lucas!"

Yes, she just referred to the older man as 'uncle'. It seems Roxie did recognize him after all, as she continues voguing in earnest before she glances at Noh-varr.

"You don't death drop until the climax of the song. Doing so early is blowing your wad before you've had a chance to enjoy." Roxie says, before raising a hand up in appreciation of the dance battle. "YAAAAAS!" she cries out as she spins and starts bouncing up and down from a low crouch while looking like she's fanning herself.

"And Vogue is from LAST century." she teases.

Noh-Varr has posed:
Look, Plex used Dancing with the Stars to help acclimate Noh-Varr to this universe. Plus he saw 'footloose' and 'pose' on a list of must-watch media and took it as a command not a marketing pitch. Plus, he's got a certain familiarity with Lucas from murdering ninjas with him in Madripoor (long story). He surfaces, and shakes his head. "Unlike our friend, ma'am, I have a short refractory period." Noh-Varr says dryly, even as he lifts his leg to run his knee along the *inside* of Lucas's leg, stopping just short of the payload (as it were). "And there will be many climaxes from me."

And he then pushes off Lucas, snapping to the end of his long reach and uses the momentum to do a front flip before jerking the older man into *his* body, hopping down onto his knees with a playful snap of his own before surfacing in a flash of silver hair and tanned skin. "I'm Nolan." He introduces himself politely to Roxanne, letting go of Lucas as he mimes opening a compact and dabbing at her face before snapping it shut in Roxanne's face challengingly. "Little shiny there."

Caleb Dykstra has posed:
"Indeed, womp womp", Caleb affirms to himself, grabbing his drink and just about gulping it in a go. "I'll be placing a ten on the jar when I get home..."

Looking back to River, he shrugs, "She's doing well, as much as I can hope for." He listens at the song. "Never been much of a clubbing guy, trying to get a feel for the thing...", his eyes are set upon the group forming in the dance floor, but his question is directed to River, "What's your dancing poison?"

Lucas Trent has posed:
Lucas Trent grins, "See, what you gotta learn and what I always tried to teach you and those other girls, you always get yours. Win, lose, draw, love and war, you get what you want, for you and yours. Anybody tries to make it otherwise, you make 'em pay," he grins.

"Excuse the twink, he's new around here," he says, giving Noh-Varr a playful swat and spinning around. His combat engine reads movements, anticipating, programming Lucas' body to react and anticipate. The result is something that looks almost choreographed as he bounces dancing off both Roxanne and Noh-varr.

"Glad to see you're still up and running, kid," he says to Roxanne.

Quentin Quire has posed:
Hey look! It's the only pink haired punk worth thinking about!

Quentin Quire.

Although tonight he's a little less punk and a little more high fashion, what with his fancy vest and button down with the rolled up sleeves as he hits the club, easily bypassing that long line of slobs waiting out in the cold. With a cocky grin he saunters past groups of drinkers and avoids the gaggle of dance battlers out on the dance floor. Instead he heads towards the bar and the booze, snagging a spot vacated by a drunken debutante to flag down one of the bartenders and order himself something to drink.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
"That's cause you were the one teaching." Roxie says with a hearty laugh as she spins and stands up in front of the pair. Slowly, she raises one leg up into a high kick, a position she holds, as her arms do the artsy flailing that is otherwise known as waacking.

"I learned this in the Castro. The daddies there were less lame than you, old man." she teases, her smile clearly just showing she's teasing before she spins, lowering her leg before she does as to not kick anyone.

"And he's your twink?" Her brows raise a little as she cants her head to the side. "I always figured you were into fellow daddies." she admits ruefully.

And that's when she glances around to find another pink haired punk! WHAAAAAT? Yes, the other pink haired individual STARES at him. There can only be one.

Emma Frost has posed:
Ahh, and there's that pink headed streak. Now Emma waits for the inevitability that will be the clash of egos as Quire goes up and probably to start cranking over which will in turn ste off Roxy. Emma's not sure whether this will qualify as amusement for the night or not. She gose to reinforce her own shields while also going to keep a mental scry out in case she picks up Quire starting to mess wtih people around him mentally..

Just as Betsy would no doubt be annoyed if that did happen and she's not here to get in the way, and no one wants to be psychic knifed.

Noh-Varr has posed:
"I believe my homozoological designation is closer to himbo." Noh-Varr is either a little dim or has a *very* dry sense of humor, because his correction is done in the most dead-pan, serious way possible, even as he works with the other two metas. He doesn't have fancy battle computers, but he does have nanites and genetic engineering to make him a dance dance revolution champion. His reflexes are nearly instantaneous, and he just *moves* fluidly, as if he'd gone to the same choreographer as Lucas.

"Also, he bottomed." Noh-Varr adds as he twists and twerks in time to the echoing 'vogue vogue vogue'. Not exactly the behavior of someone that would make the proclamation he made. "So I was daddy."

Julian Keller has posed:
It is very easy to get lost in the crowd. To just be another dancer among the throngs of people who pack the dancer floor. Who knows who may be out there. It could be Superman. It could be Bruce Wayne. If they wanted to be here, they certainly could and likely go unnoticed if they wanted. Until they do something to announce there presence.

Sorry Folks, it's not those, but a Julian. And shockingly, he makes no grand entrance. There is no fan fare. He had been here dancing. His dark red silk shirt clings to him obviously having worked up a sweat. His jeans, totally designer pair, are loose enough that allows him to move. Spend the past 4 years partying it up and living the rich boy lifestyle you are going to pick up moves here and there.

All is quiet until he's shoved from behind pushing him straight into a throng of people. Wheeling, his eyes glow green for an instant but the apologetic look on the mans face, causes Julian to stamp out the anger. He just gives the other an upnod before turning and trying to make his way through the dance floor to the bar.

River Banks has posed:
    "Line dancin'. Ain't got a lotta that in the neighborhoods I'm in in Gotham City right now." River replies quietly, as she looks out over the crowd. "I'm a country girl livin' in the city world at heart. Ain't nothin' wrong with it, this kinda dancin, but they're havin' fun with it." she states, giving an upnod.

    "I was s'posed to meet a fella here, but looks like the weather gave him cold feet."

Lucas Trent has posed:
Lucas Trent sighs, "Are you sure you're an intelligence officer, Noh? You have the discretion of a village gossip," he says in his gravelly voice.

Lucas almost seems to be a little flush in the face, impressive given the nanites. He isn't used to having his business, so to speak, aired. He's never been ashamed but he's private, just by nature.

"Himbo isn't a real categorization. I will not be anybody's zaddy, I simply refuse."

Quentin Quire has posed:
Quentin is being good. No blatant manipulation of the dull-witted masses around him. Okay, maybe a little push here and there to keep the drunks from falling all over him, and to get the tender's attention faster than waving a Grant around. But nothing drastic, sheesh. Most of the girls in here probably did the same thing to get in in the first place, dressed up the ways they are. Everyone's just using their natural talents, after all.

Drink in hand; some flashy looking cocktail with an umbrella and everything; Quentin detaches himself from the bar and starts to circle the club, sipping from the glass as he spies about, seeing if there's anyone interesting.

Emma, of course, gets a nod of recognition as the pink-haired mutant makes note of her. Then his attention draws towards the crowded dance floor as there's a somewhat familiar pulse of telekinectic energy for a split second. Just that second though, and then Quentin is back to looking for something interesting to watch. Not even deigning to notice the dagger-eye stare from the pink-haired imposter out on the dance floor.

Emma Frost has posed:
Quentin is behaving. Emma's been doing much the same when it comes to manipulating others so she can't fault Quentin for it. Betsy might, but Elizabeth isn't out here now so there's nothing to be concerned over unless someone starts misbehaving. Emma waits for something that feels like it will be inevitable to happen of a clash of the egos.

And there's Julian making his own entrance getting cuaght intot he crowd. Emma does go to pay just a little more attention now. Julian's control should be fine.

Caleb Dykstra has posed:
Caleb is perplexed at the revelation, "You're a country girl...?" Pause, "Living in /Gotham/, no less?" He immediately shakes his head, "Newp... That..." He struggles to gather his line of thought, and pulls it off into a look of concern. "You really should get out of there, River, that place's gonna eat you alive like the poor girl in 'Jaws'."

He definetely speaks from experience, there.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
The way Noh-varr speaks causes her to quirk a brow. Sure, she's met him before, but even then, she found it odd. Before she can say anything else, her eyes widen at the statement that is clearly TMI.

Her eyes widen and she starts coughing, having choked on her own saliva as she shakes her head. "OH DEAR GOD! I did NOT need to know that." she says, flailing a bit, taking her out of her waacking rhythm. It would totally be a loss if there was a judge.

"Just ya know, no love, no glove. Or at least be on PrEP or something." Yes, she's seen the commercials, still, she dances with the pair, somewhat awkwardly now.

Her gaze flits about, as she looks towards the somewhat familiar face of Julian and then the pink haired punk, Quentin. "Biter." she mumbles under her breath.

River Banks has posed:
    "Actually, moved ta Gotham. Got a friend who's lookin' out for me, lendin' me a hand. Even got myself a job, supplimented by gigs. Ah'm fine." she gives a slight smile. "Don't mind swimmin' with the sharks when I got teeth a' my own. An' my brother's in school there." she gives a little smile, looking at the dancers having their fun.

    "There are places /worse/ than Gotham."

Noh-Varr has posed:
"Jock on jock?" Noh-Varr suggests to Lucas dryly, although his green eyes are absolutely *gleeful* as he takes in the blush on Lucas's cheeks. He breaks away and does that windmill arm fist thing that people do in clubs, winking at Roxanne. "I was a diplomat, not an intelligence officer. Guess my nanites *are* superior if that's all it takes to rattle you."

And to Roxanne, he chuckles, "Quaint. STIs are a human concern." And he does a one-handed stand, clicking his heels together before letting himself fall oh-so-gently and doing the worm.

Quentin Quire has posed:
Is it really misbehaving to use one's natural gifts to make sure the drunks don't lurch into oneself? Quentin doesn't really think so. It's not like he's flinging them off into the walls, just a little nudge here and there if someone staggers a little too close. Or to help someone stagger a little closer, if they're particularly good looking. But nothing handsy, just a grin and a "watch it there!" from Quentin as he makes his way through the crowd of people.

Just getting the feel for the place and getting his drink on, even if his gaze keeps sliding back towards realy what's the most interesting thing going on in the club; the dance battle between the pink-haired wannabe, the himbo, and the uncle. When people are doing leg kicks and handstands, the rest of the "smashing bodies against each other" dancers in the club are really off their game.

Lucas Trent has posed:
Lucas Trent nods to Noh-Varr, "True, but she doesn't know that for sure. It's good advice, one that would still be shared and often, even in the modern era," he says. He's post-human himself, with nothing to fear from mere disease. But he came of age during the AIDs epidemic and saw his own generation die on the vine, usually in brightly lit clubs not so different from this.

He takes a moment, breaking from the dance, "I'm going to get a drink," he says. He brought a flask of his own, a Madripoor-born sludge only barely resembling liquor, capable of intoxicating even the most potent of regeneratives.

"You were a diplomat?" he shouts back as he returns with his drink. "So what you're telling me is you're one of the peaceful ones?"

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
Squintyface. There's a bonafide alien in front of her. A himbo at that. Then she blinks and purses her lips, clearly mulling over whether or not she should ask, but alas, curiosity gets the best of her.

Putting up a finger, she opens her mouth. Closes her mouth. Then opens it again as she speaks, probably against her better judgement.

"Sooooo, you two are like doing it, right? Like, and he's an alien, right? So, how... does that work? I mean, like ya know..." and she puts a finger in and out of her other fingers. "Are they compatible? There isn't like pincers or anything to grab onto you, is there?" Bonus points if you get the reference.

Julian Keller has posed:
There is a pause in his step as Julian spots Roxy. It's a moment of trying to recall if I he knows her or is she just another one of those club girls looking for a good time. It's only a pause though as he continues his way to the bar. It's packed, like most bars are, and instead of waiting pushes himself through. "I'll buy your drinks." It's not an offer, it's not a question, but just a simple statement of fact.

"2 shots of tequila," Julian says, "And put those two I pushed throughs tab on mine." Flex much? There is no preamble. No warm up of salt or chaser of lime. One shot of tequila down then another and feeling no pain turns back to the crowded dance floor, raises his arms in the air and cries out, "Let's DAAAANCE!" He doesn't wait grabbing random peoples hands lurking at the edge of the dance floor and pulling them onto it. "It's a club! Dancing is a must!"

Noh-Varr has posed:
And when the other two break off, either to get a drink or just stare in embarrassment, Noh-Varr clutches his fists and raises them in the air.

Champioooooon!

He cracks his neck as he stands down, leading Roxanne over to Lucas so they can drink. "Don't be so earthling." He says with a shake of his head at the talk of tentacles and pinchers. "Sex can happen no matter the biological differences... At least once, maybe, but it can happen." He gives her a ghost of a shadow of a smirk, before turning to Lucas. "Peace is best achieved through domination, friend." He tells him with a shrug, "Be it intellectual or physical. Gin and tonic." He orders, and adds to Lucas. "I heard they are tasty, like sucking on a christmas tree."

Caleb Dykstra has posed:
"Can't imagine any", Caleb says. "Way I see it, whoever finds Gotham a breeze, tells me that they a) are looking for trouble, or b) they were dying of boredom back home."

He glances to River, "Oh... A benefactor, huh?" He sighs, and shrugs. "I hope everything turns out okay for you guys. I mean it."

But the look on his face has a je-ne-sais-quoi of 'it was nice knowing you'.

Go figure.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
"Like sucking on a Christmas tree..." That is Roxie repeating the statement, looking quite puzzled as she simply follows along to go towards the bar, catching Julian along the way. "Subway guy!" she chirps cheerily before she looks back to the couple.

"So, is he the Christmas tree?" she /has/ to ask, jerking a thumb over at Lucas before she giggles at her own immaturity. Giving a dismissive wave at her own sillyness to show she's mostly joking, Roxie orders another midori sour before glancing in Quentin's direction, yelling to be heard over the din of the club.

"Nice hair!"

Lucas Trent has posed:
Lucas Trent does not get the reference. He probably hasn't watched television since you needed an antenna. Never know what kind of signals they'll try to put through those airwaves. Control your input, control your own mind. And don't let anybody else even try.

"Yeah, yeah, you win, you always win," he mutters at Noh.

To Roxanne's question, the increasingly inebriated Midnighter adds, "It's pretty much all the same controls, you just have to learn how to handle them the right way."

Julian Keller has posed:
Subway guy doesn't quite know what the hell that is all about. It's actually taken Julian 2 shots and dragging people to the dance floor before something clicks. "Oh snap!" he says a bit a way from the group Roxy is danceTalking with. He causes him to stop in his impressive dance moves and turn to squint at her through the crowd.

He makes his way through the crowd and stops in front of her. "I think I owe you breakfast. Or was it dinner? Maybe lunch." Julian says calling loud enough through the crowd. "If you prefer I can just send you Money." He the very last word. Is said as the song cuts off suddenly before transitioning to a new song. It's quite possible people think Julian just offered her money for something.

River Banks has posed:
    "Gotham's as good a place to disappear as any." River states with a smile, tucking some of her blonde hair back before she goes to settle her tab with a fistfull of cash in small bills, and she gives a nod. "Anyway, good catchin' up with you Caleb. I was s'posed to meet a guy here but got stood up. So... think I'm gonna catch the hyperloop an' head for home. Be safe out there, Caleb." River gives a grin, and goes to make her exit.

Noh-Varr has posed:
"Don't be silly." Noh-Varr tells Roxanne briskly, as the bartender presents him with the drink. "The contest is over. I established my superiority, and there is no more reason to bother the old man." Oh, yes. Noh-Varr has a *dry* sense of humor.

He does, however, bump shoulders with Lucas in a friendly manner, "My only concern was our nanites interacting in an unexpected manner when I learned of yours." He says with a chuckle, before raising an eyebrow. "According to Lucas, there's a lot of money in sex work. I don't know if it was his idea of flattery, or a business suggestion."

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
"Well, you did say you were the top." Roxie says with a playful wink, before she looks towards Julian, chuckling a bit. "You make it sound so scandalous. Totally not a prostitute, not that there's anything wrong with it. World's oldest profession and all." she says with a bit of a smirk. "But, I'm game for food, as long as you're paying."

Then, she looks between the two as she motions between Julian, Lucas, and Noh-varr. "Have you two met yet?" she wonders.

Caleb Dykstra has posed:
Caleb observes the people dancing, searching for the mood to go and join the crowd...

But tonight, not really feeling it, he gets up from his space at the counter, pays and starts heading for the exit. To Roxanne, he offers a small wave in passing before finally making his way outside.

Julian Keller has posed:
"..I never said anything about you being a prostitute." Damn that song that just went quiet again, before kicking back in with a sick beat. Julian shakes his head and looks to her. "Well, you never called to collect! So I thought you'd forgotten." He shrugs his shoulders looking towards the other two. "Nope. Don't think I have." He shrugs his shoulders again. "But it's possible I have, I do meet a lot of people."

Noh-Varr has posed:
The assessment Noh-Varr gives Julian is more appropriate in a battlefield than a club, green eyes coolly taking in every aspect of him, analyzing it, and filing it away for tactical use later. He then nods solemnly at the mutant. "I don't think we haven't. I'm new here." Which is true on so many levels.

He lifts his gin and tonic in salute to the retreating Lucas, before taking a sip, turning back to Roxanne. "Sex work is, indeed, real work for all that it is not government regulated. Back home, sex workers get the most leave days. Ironic that laying on your back needs more time off, but friction, I guess."

Quentin Quire has posed:
Quentin was polite enough to give a "Hey, you too!" shout back at Roxy when she called out his awesome hair. Because it is awesome, after all. But then he disappears back into the crowd, which is something to do for a guy in a bright white dress shirt and a bright magenta mohawk.

Eventually though that shock of pink hair appears back in the crowd and the flashing lights as Quentin emerges from whatever hidey hole he found. Huzzah! Somewhere along the line he lost his drink or finished it, as now he cuts his way across the far less interesting dance floor as he makes a line for the bar, empty glass in hand.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
"I have not forgotten!" she says, putting up a finger. "I've just been, uh, busy." Cause getting stalked by a vicious feral manbeast and having to run and hide takes precedent. There's a furtive glance about before waving as 'Uncle' Lucas heads off to do whatever it is zaddies do.

"It's that rug burn." Roxie says with a sage nod, as if speaking from experience, as she pink haired punk starts heading in their direction. Looking back to Julian, she hrmms, "Text me and we'll set something up, yeah?"

Julian Keller has posed:
Julian Keller is just an average joe, just doing average joe things in a club. Dancing. Drinking. And hitting on girls. Well, not so much the last one. Yet. The look though, garners a look back to Noh-Varr. "You have a beef with me? Do I piss in your corn flakes some how?" His eyes widen a bit as he misinterupts the look. "OH! You were hitting on subway girl here. And you're upset I asked her to dinner." or breakfast or lunch, whatever.

"Sorry pal, if you want to get the girls you gotta be bold!" He does seem confused though, "I sure hope sex isn't just laying on your back. Seems really dull way to have sex."

Turning back to Roxie, "Uhh... " he pauses and pulls his phone out and scrolls. And scrolls. And scrolls some more. Huh. "OH!" He nods to himself pleased as punch and types a simple message. 'Yo. Your turn.' Hopefully he got the right Subway Girl.

Quentin Quire has posed:
Quentin is heading towards Roxy and Julian by dint of them being between the bar and the telepath. He does give a grin for the other pink-haired punker, attention completely sliding past Julian as he moves past. Unless they stop him.