xp_logs | LOG: [Mark, Lorna, Haller] Silver

Lorna's back from Hawaii and cranky, so of course one of Haller's more uppity parts decides now is a good time to force her into socialization. Of the imminently regrettable kind.

Flying was like torture, Lorna decided. And flying in from Hawaii was like flying from another country on the other damn side of the world. She'd gone right around being exhausted to being wired again and having already put away everything in her luggage, she'd moved on to twitchily cleaning the suite. She was on her hands and knees scrubbing the kitchen floor when there was a knock on the door. Grumbling, she crossed the newly vacuumed living room and yanked open the door. She glowered. "I'm still not speaking to you."

The lanky frame and wild black hair waiting for her behind the door were as familiar as could be expected. The green eyes staring back at her were not.

"No, that would be Jimmy," Cyndi said. She raised one hand and gave her fingers a deliberate snap that was punctuated by a brief burst of flame. "Different Haller, lady."

Lorna thought about it for about half a second. "Yeah, I'm not talking to you either. Pyros are nuts. Go away." She started to shut the door again.

"Yeah, that would be totally wrong again." The attempt at antisocialism bounced off a Doc Martin that Cyndi'd had no say in buying but grudgingly approved of because it was useless looking for anything cool that actually fit David's freakishly large feet. The alter walked her foot across the carpet to pry the door further open and rested one hand on her hip. "Remember that time in the sunroom? It was my turn and I had to step back so the Dork could be your gay boyfriend. Now it's my turn again, and you totally owe me."

Lorna stared down at the boot in her doorway. Doc Martens had steel toes. She could march Cyndi right back out of here without so much as a by your leave. But the alter had a point. "What do you want?"

"I want to go out." The last word was angry, with an undercurrent that bordered dangerously on plaintiveness. "It's been five freaking months and all Jimmy wants us to do is work. I wanna to do something I want to do. Except I can't drive and I'm not supposed to talk to anyone my age."

Cyndi kicked at the carpet in frustration, the movement traced by a brief trail of light as the air next to her shoe ignited. "Jimmy's trying to keep his insane to himself, fine, good for school morale, whatever. Jack doesn't care about talking to anybody unless he can punch them in the face and the Dork's life has always been pathetic and empty. Peachy for them. But it means Davey and I don't really got anybody to go to except for Chuck and Dr. Mommy." The alter raised her green eyes from the carpet to Lorna, and the expression on the young man's face was suddenly much more familiar. "'Cept you."

"Don't set my carpet on fire. Out where? I just got back from the other side of the country. As far as my body's concerned it's noon." And she was probably slightly delirious to even be thinking about agreeing to this. Why on earth would she be subjecting herself to even more stress? Baby-sitting stress at that.

"Cool, so on top of owing me you've got no excuse!" Cyndi chirped with the inexorable logic of self-interest, the echoes of Jim's earnestness abruptly falling out of her features. She folded her arms across her chest, her expression one of acute contemplation. "Okay, I haven't clubbed in like forever. There's that mutant-friendly place I keep hearing about. We should go to that. It looks fun and also I totally have no clue what else is in New York."

"You want to go to Silver," she said flatly, "Right now." Lorna sighed and rubbed her temple. "I should just shut the door in your face. Is that what you're wearing? I can't believe I'm doing this." But she took a few steps back and opened the door a little wider. "Debt paid in full and more than for this, Cyndi. It only works this once."

"The Dorkbody don't own anything good. It's either the tasteful powder blue David got told was safe when he was like eight or whatever retina-blasting crime against nature someone still thinks looks good despite the fact that no one has ever looked good in it ever and oh no, was that out loud?" Cyndi rolled her eyes as she strolled into Lorna's suite and not even giving it a second glance. She'd seen it plenty of times already. "But seriously, you got anything, help. Like, please. Except no to the crossdressing, because yeah. Speaking from experience this body is a world of oh HELL no." Cyndi plucked at her hair, reconfirming the spikiness. At least she never had to do anything there. Living in something this gawky, low-maintenance hair was the least she felt she deserved. "And hey, you drag Jimmy out dancing constantly. This is so beyond fair it's not even funny."

Lorna sighed again and flicked her hand to close the door. "Dancing gives him something to do with those spider limbs that you're sporting besides flail them awkwardly. Are you wearing an undershirt? Or do you own an undershirt? Preferably something that isn't seven sizes too big?" She walked away, heading for the bedroom. If she was going to a club then her sweatshirt and old leggings weren't going to cut it. "You need eyeliner."

"Oh my god, yes I do! Eyeliner and nails." Finally someone who got it. She'd known there was a good reason to go to Lorna. David had let her keep makeup once -- Cyndi thought probably so he at least had some kind of control over what she ended up with -- but not Jim. Even allowing Davey's toys in the safety of their own room had been like climbing freaking Everest, and there was apparently something way too threatening about finding cosmetics in his cabinet. Well, that was fine. Jim wasn't out now, and while he was nominally still around he'd stepped way back to let Cyndi have her time. Where Jim was concerned, willful ignorance was almost like approval.

Heedless of the other woman's privacy, Cyndi followed her into her room and dropped onto the bed, sprawling with adolescent bonelessness. She gave Lorna a wicked grin from behind David's face.

"Glam me, lady. Glam me hard."

Lorna fulfills her good deed for the night by taking Cyndi out as promised. They run into Mark. Unfortunately, the identities of all parties involved proceed to fly completely over the participants' respective heads.

"'Swear to shake it up if you swear to listen,'" Mark sang softly, swimming through the sea of people that separated the DJ's booth from the bar. The bartender was expecting him, so he didn't need to even try to speak louder than Panic! at the Disco to get his creamsicle. He was ready to head to the dancefloor for a bit but then he caught a smile directed at him out the corner of his eye. He was more than happy to follow it.

"What'll you have?" he asked, flashing a pleasant smile at the dark haired young man with green elevator eyes.

"Whiskey sour," Cyndi replied, assessing the newcomer from the bar. Oh good, up-close he was still reasonably cute. Sometimes the lighting in clubs was a serious death-trap. Shorter than her, but was there a person in the tri-state area that wasn't? Aside from the brick wall who'd chucked her into the Pacific Ocean, and people more than triple her age didn't count. Cyndi smirked and tapped the bar with fingernails Lorna had been way too enthusiastic about painting black. "So like . . . no offense, but are you even old enough for chivalry? Unless you're buying and breaking the law for me, because then I just might think hard about swooning."

"Whiskey sour for Slade here," Mark called to the bartender. "How about I go with the latter if it results in swooning, whether or not it's true?" he replied to Cyndi, raising his glass in a mock salute to her.

"See, if I swooned all delicate-like this conversation would be short as hell." Cyndi gave the man behind the bar a brief smile before turning back to Mark. She brought up a fire-scarred hand and let flame burst just above her open palm, billowing like a chrysanthemum before it dissipated. "And far be it for me to waste flying sparks."

Mark gazed curiously at Cyndi's hand. The brief flame was actually kind of pretty, in that dangerous pyromaniac sort of way. "I'm sure you could swoon in a manlike manner if you wanted," he suggested and held out his own hand. A remix of some song by The Academy Is... had replaced Panic!, so Mark showed off his own sparks, these ones electrical in nature. "And I'll even lend you some sparks so you can't keep yours for later."

Cyndi approved, and not just because of the visuals. The guy's power use hit an end of the spectrum she didn't know or really care if her telekinesis could affect, but the poweruse felt like ants in her head. Tingly glowing ants crawling in tight little arcs around his fingers. Besides, what was the use of powers if you didn't show them off? "Shiny, man. 'Course, this is where I got to break the tone and mention fire good but the flesh is still squishy and flammable, and third-degree burns? Really the low end of sexy."

The alter accepted the drink slid across the bar to her and gave Mark a smile-edged salute before inelegantly slamming it back. Cyndi set the noticeably-emptier glass down again and leaned towards the young man, one elbow propped on the bar as she met her eyes with his. "Guess you're gonna have to come up with something more creative to keep my attention."

"Well, I could just keep liquoring you up," Mark suggested, downing the rest of his drink and waving to the bartender for another round. "Ooh, look at the shiny alcohol! See how it reflects what little light shines in here."

Cyndi smirked as she moved to down most of the rest of hers. "Oh, keep enabling and this place will be plenty bright. But it's all good." She reached out to bring the side of the glass to his cheek, leaving a streak of condensation against his skin. "You ain't gonna have to work that hard."

"Magic words." Mark gulped his drink, paying not attention to the burning in his throat or the throbbing in his head. Hopping off his stool, he offered Cyndi and hand. "Care to dance, babe? Then you can see how I 'work.'"

Cyndi took a quick swig to down the rest of her drink and accepted his hand with mock-demureness. "Oh, I dunno," she said, tastefully-smoky eyelids lowered, "I think I already got a pretty good look at the manual." Cyndi smiled again, her curled fingers tracing slowly against the inside of his palm. "But y'know. I think I need a demonstration."

Mark smirked. If where this dude's hands were going was any indication, then he must have a very good comprehension on the mechanics already. Mark decided to respond in kind, though he had to admit that it looked a little funny given the eight inch difference in height between them. "I think you're doin' just fine," he said just barely loudly enough over the music.

Lorna elbowed her way through the sweaty, barely clothed bodies, her head pounding from the perfume and otherwise overpowering the women's restroom. She was too old for this kind of thing. What the hell was she thinking, letting herself be talked into this by Haller's not so better half...er, fourth. Possibly fifth... part anyway. Grumbling, she glared at the next guy who asked her to dance--why did they always want to touch the hair?--and looked around for Cyndi, praying that she hadn't gotten into any trouble in the ten minutes Lorna had been gone.

...someday she'd learn that thoughts like that were really just tempting Fate to new and greater heights of mischief, Lorna reflected as she finally spotted the tall slim form. It had taken longer than she'd expected because she hadn't been looking for a guy quite that plastered up against someone else. God, she was going to go blind and...whoa, hands. Hands in new places. "Ha...er..." Shit, name...um... "Hey! What's all this?" Praying this worked, she stormed up to her erstwhile charge and his...her...Haller's dancing partner.

The words alone weren't nearly enough over the noise of the club, but the hand on her arm got her attention. There was plenty of touching in this place, but the grabbing wasn't usually quite this aggressive. Cyndi snapped her head around to stare at the green-haired woman, narrowly avoiding setting something on fire in her annoyance. "Trying to have a life, what's it look like?" She tried to will Lorna's hand off her with stare alone. I already found someone to grab for the night, dammit!

Jealous girlfriend? Couldn't be. This guy was way too femme to be straight, Mark thought. Hell, he probably didn't even know what that word meant. And Mark was none too happy about being interrupted. "Um, is there a problem here?" he asked, crossing his arms not the least bit defiantly.

Lorna bared her teeth in a none-too-sweet smile, "Not at all. I just need to talk to...my friend for a minute." She matched Cyndi glare for glare, daring her to give Lorna any kind of reason to drag her out of here by the stiff brightly colored spikes in her hair. She'd been on a plane most of the day and then been dragged out to a noisy, poorly lit little club to amuse her best friend's crazier side. So. Not. In. The. Mood.

"Really not done here yet." Somewhere in the back of her mind was a flicker of something like gratitude, but Cyndi's prevailing emotion was annoyance. Annoyance, and the kneejerk you can't tell me what to do! that was more or less the ground state of Cyndi's entire existence. Just to make that perfectly clear to Lorna, she followed up the statement with a defiant step closer to Mark and a creeping hand around the man's abdomen.

Jim's going to kill himself if I don't stop her. Lorna tightened her grip on Cyndi's arm. "I'm certain your new friend will wait for you to come back and continue getting to know him. Right now, we need to talk." She transferred her gaze to the young man currently being groped and held up her other hand. "Five minutes. Promise. Then I'll go find a bar stool and do shots until this all seems like a bad dream."

Even through the darkness of the club, the blur of the booze, and the haze of Hotty McYummy touching him, something about this woman seemed familiar to Mark. Where had he seen hair her color before? He shook his head and looked up at Cyndi. "You go calm Miss Cockblocker and I'll wait here." He spared Lorna and brief glare, and then leaned up to place a soft yet lingering kiss on Cyndi's lips. The look in his eyes told her that there was plenty more of that later.

Cyndi was about to make a witty reply when the borrowed jewelry began to start a not-so-subtle constriction around her neck and wrists as Lorna began to move towards the door and oh my god she planned this totally on purpose. "All right all right all right!" the alter yelped, and, with one last longing look at Mark, stumbled into line with Lorna.

The alley was cold. Really cold. Cyndi regarded Lorna furiously, taking out her frustration on the hot pink paper bracelet they'd been given for readmittance. She could yank all she wanted, because the damn things were indestructible. "Yeah, just some friendly advice," she hissed, glaring at the other woman. "Next time you decide to drag me around by my neck like a dog you better be ready for something to burn. And I have shitty aim."

"Shut up, Cyndi. I'm doing you a favor here and I'm totally not in the mood to be threatened. Of the two of us? I'm scarier, so just...you know, don't even start." Lorna pushed her hand through her hair then wrapped her arms around herself. Christ, it was cold out here and her thin top wasn't actually helping. "What exactly do you think you're doing in there and how likely is it to end up with you actually setting something on fire? Because, seriously? I'm so very much not in the mood to see my best friend arrested for arson or assault and I know that you wouldn't stick around if something happened."

"Oh my god, no wonder Jim likes you. You're both old women!" Cyndi raised one hand to flap her fingers open and closed as she sing-songed, "Don't set nightclubs on fire, Cyndi! Don't tongue strange men, Cyndi! Don't do this, don't do that, consequences ramifications blah blah blah! Jim's the respectable one, not me, and if I got to take one more ounce of it I'm going to hurl!"

Lorna stared up at her for a moment then started laughing, "My sweet god in heaven. You're such a teenager." Exhaustion made strange things seem funny because this probably wasn't really. "What will you do when he goes beyond just tonguing? And he will because that's actually the whole damn point for most guys. He thinks you're a guy. This guy," Lorna gestured up and down Haller's lanky body, "the guy that isn't actually attracted to him. So, yeah, consequences. What the hell are you doing?"

"Why shouldn't I? If somebody wants me, why shouldn't I go?" Their faces glowed gold as Cyndi's mounting frustration began to leak through. She slashed one angry hand through the air, the movement streaking fire. It was so close the heat scorched her skin, but Cyndi really didn't give a damn. "Nobody wants Jim. Jim's a freak. Jim's repulsive. There was only ever one person who wanted us and when the Crazy came out surprise surprise, she ditched! Well, I don't need the Ninja Bunnykins. Nobody wants Jim, but I can do just fine." Cyndi hugged herself, arms wrapped around her thin body, shivering with what she refused to think of as anything but the cold. "Somebody wants me," she whispered.

It was amazing how quickly irritation could be washed away. "Oh, hon." Lorna sighed and stepped closer, reaching out to rub her friend's arms. "You know it's not the same thing. What he sees, what he expects? This is Jim's body that he's attracted to. What will you do with that? I don't want to see you hurt. You or Jim."

"Yeah, I know. I don't know. I hate David's dumb messed-up head. Why does everything got to be so stupid-complicated?" Frustration still bled into Cyndi's tone, but lessening, and someone back there was too grateful for the simple weight of Lorna's hands on their arms to shake the woman off. Spending the weekend with Yvette and her mother, then the stress of Terry's crisis. Watching students and staff going to their families for Thanksgiving when they didn't have one to go to, and the utter sense of isolation about a thing Jim wouldn't even talk about polluting the entire system. It was unbearable. If she didn't do something about it Cyndi thought she really would explode.

But angry as she was, Cyndi knew it was better Lorna had stepped in. It would have caused way more drama than it was worth when Jim came back from whatever edge of nowhere he was skirting right now, and there was really only so far Cyndi was willing to go in David's body. Despite talking a big game she'd never been able to push past anything more than a light make-out. Or at least, not with any result that could be termed good. Sure, the guy was cute and into her, but what would she even have done if she'd gotten him?

Lorna's logic made sense. Cyndi just didn't have to like it.

"I just wanted to have some fun," Cyndi muttered, one foot scuffing the grit of the alley. "For once."

Lorna sighed again and wrapped her arm around Haller's waist. "That's just the way life is. If it makes you feel better, you're not the only one who had to pick the better part of valor this week. I kissed my ex-fiance yesterday. His girlfriend wasn't really very pleased with that. I kinda ended up threatening her a little." Nope, didn't sound any less awful when she said it out loud as in her head. "Anyway, you can have fun tonight. Just...don't get all gropey, okay? Fun can happen without hands in new places."

"Jim gropes you all the time and that seems to make everything better. But fine. I guess I'll just say I spontaneously developed a headache in the five minutes between then and now or whatever. We can all do a couple shots or something to make it up to him." Cyndi swivelled her head to regard Lorna through the painstakingly-applied eyeliner as the other half of the comment registered. "Uh, wow, your ex-fiance and already taken? And you're giving me advice on who to mack on again . . . how?"

"Okay, first of all, it's totally platonic and you'd think that living in his head would help you figure that out." Lorna pulled away and crossed her arms a little indignantly. "Secondly, this is what we call a 'do as I say, not as I do' situation. Besides, it was one kiss and we both agreed it was a mistake and you are never allowed to bring it up again. I was illustrating a point. Now, let's go back to your new gay boyfriend and have a drink."