Morgan, Amanda - Thursday night at Silver.
Jun. 5th, 2008 10:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsAmanda is at Silver for a bit of downtime, and runs into Xavier's newest resident.
Mark was in fine form tonight. Amanda raised her glass to him in the DJ's booth and received a nod and a grin in return, before tossing back the rest of the drink and heading to the bar for another. She was keeping things in moderation, since spazzing out in the middle of Silver and drawing on the tables wasn't really something she wanted to do, but it was hot in the club and she'd been riding the vibe of the crowd for a couple of hours now.
Placing her order (and waving to Jay who was stuck down the other end with customers), she leaned forward against the bar, moving to the beat of the music and glancing around her. Good crowd, lots of people having fun... Amanda basked in it a little like someone basking in sunshine.
It had taken Morgan what she considered far too long to hear about Silver. She considered she should likely not be quite as opposed to the city as she was. Maybe she'd revise that policy after tonight. Nothing worked out excess energy like dancing did and after weeks of being holed up at Xavier's Morgan had more than enough to spare. Her hair had been thrown up into a ponytail but it didn't stop the sweat that she felt rolling down her spine. It wasn't necessarily her poison of choice as far as music went, but it had a beat fast enough to make her reach that giddyhappy that only happened when she danced.
Morgan wove through the crowd toward the bar, needing water to cool her skin before she went back in. If her legs worked at all to ride back to the school it'd be a miracle. She leaned over the bar slightly to get the attention of one of the bartenders and ask for two bottles of water before setting herself back on her feet. She probably made someone behind her very happy by doing that considering how short her skirt was. Clubbing clothes were not made for modesty. Glancing to the side she noticed the girl next to her, blonde and still moving with the music. She looked like she'd hit that giddy happy point as well and it made Morgan smile.
Catching the smile, Amanda returned it, even as she admired the other girl. Athletic, cute, dressed in a manner she approved of, and not one bit concerned about her obvious mutation. It was like Brighton all over again. She also looked vaguely familiar. In an effort to figure out why, the witch leaned over slightly and raised her voice a bit so she'd be heard over the music. "Hey. Haven't seen you here before. 'M Amanda."
"Haven't been before." As Morgan answered she heard the Irish undertones of her accent thicken, though it didn't quite nudge out the prominence of her Boston accent. "I'm Morgan, just found this place today, actually. You come here often, then?" And now she was checking Amanda out. Part was habit to size up what could have turned out to be a potential opponent. Mostly it was that she was cute and she had a British accent.
"Pretty much - DJ's a mate of mine." Over the music, Amanda caught the slight Irish lilt - not exactly home, but close. Interesting. And hey, she was being checked out - incorrigible, Amanda preened a little, a little frustrated she was still on the thin side after two weeks on the streets but knowing the leather pants forgave any amount of boniness. "Hopefully you find it to your liking - we like new faces here." She grinned as she said it.
"He's good." Her eyes went to the DJ booth briefly, watching the kid in it. He almost seemed to feed off the music the way Amanda was basking in it. Points for enjoying his job. Morgan's focus went right back to Amanda, a sly smile forming on her lips. "Now I'm hurt, love. Here I was hoping I was special but I'm just another new face, yeah?" She laughed, obviously joking.
"I don't think you're 'just' anything, but what can I say? Can't always judge a book by its cover - I tend to like to have a bit of a read before I make up my mind." Her drink arrived and she took a sip. "Just moved to New York?" she asked with friendly curiosity. "Sounds like you've spent a bit of time with the Paddies, to judge by your accent." Her own was broadening somewhat, the South London creeping back in.
"Yes and no," she said with a shrug. Unfortunately their accents seemed to feed off one another. Amanda's thickening brought more of the Irish in Morgan's. At the moment she was just glad she wasn't shifting to the South London of Amanda's voice, that happened all too easily with her. "I grew up in Boston. Southie, specifically, it's an Irish area. When I left Boston I hooked up with a bunch of guys who are mostly Americans but all are Irish, most of their families immigrating here more recently than mine did. And one was from Ireland so that didn't help. It rubbed off worse with them and I've not been back long enough for it to fade."
"So you're a bit of an accent sponge then?" Amanda chuckled. "See, I do that a bit too - as long as it's variations of Old Blighty. Being here for..." She had to think about it for a minute. "...five years has done sod all to my accent in terms of picking up the American - I just smooth out the worst of it so people understand me when I'm on the phone at work."
"Aye, a bit." Morgan's eyes went to the ceiling, a mix of faux impatience with herself and amusement. She cleared her throat. "More like a language sponge. Slang and all, as you see." Morgan shook her head at herself, laughing lightly. Her bottles of water finally appeared and she twisted the cap off, downing half of it in one go. "So why're you here? Not Silver, but the States. Why'd you leave England?"
"Mutant school," was the reply. "I needed training and there's this place called Xavier's where they can help with that." Amanda snorted. "Or try, at least. I wasn't exactly one of the success stories for a while there."
Morgan suddenly looked very, very amused. "Oh? You went to Xavier's? They asked me to teach kids how to fight recently." She grinned, sudden and broad. "Self-defense, fighting, pick and interpretation."
Smacking herself on the forehead, Amanda exclaimed out loud: "That's where I know you from! The fuckin' journals!" A little sheepishly, she turned back to Morgan. "I should have known from that, but I've been a bit scattered lately. Too much goin' on. How're you findin' the madhouse? Didn't take them long to get you into the teachin'."
She shrugged, "Told them I wouldn't stay there for free. Teaching the mini humans self-defense is better than moving stuff, literally." Now Morgan was staring at Amanda to try to remember if she'd noticed any icons of her on the journals but she didn't exactly pay the most attention ever to them. "The mansion's interesting. Bit odd. Some people are cool. Some're...well, thick as fucking hell. But that's life, yeah? So why were you such a failure, if you don't mind me asking?"
"Well, it's not so much thick as some of them having this whole self-righteous thing going on where they think they know better than everyone." Amanda said it without malice, but pulled a bit of a face remembering some of the threads after Mark's return from the 'dead'. "I had a few powers issues, made some bad choices, wound up gettin' myself royally in the shite and havin' to leave before I finished high school. Spent six months in New Orleans with the world's scariest woman gettin' my head back on straight and then came up here with Pete an' Remy, to work at the Snow Valley Centre." She raised an eyebrow at Morgan. "You don't strike me as the career teacher type, tho'. Mind if I poke a bit an' ask what brought you to the X geezer?"
Self-righteous, now wasn't that just one of Morgan's favorite things ever? She made a mental note to look out for that. Though, she put that whole panic over her mimicking people in that category a bit anyway. "I had a sort of powers side effect glitch that nearly got those Irish boys of mine killed. Couldn't have that, could I? So I came over to get it sorted. Jean's not bad, she's the one I'm working with. Though apparently she puts people over her knee," her eyebrows raised for a moment, helping her tone along with the implication that it was for entirely kinky reasons. She was still smiling but her voice dipped down to something more serious. "Since it sounds like I should get the reference but I don't, what's the Snow Valley Center?"
"Ah, powers glitches. Where would we be without the bastards?" Amanda rolled her eyes sympathetically. "Mine're a bit unhappy right now, which is why I came out for some 'therapy'." The comment about Jean made her laugh. "Well, I can think of worse people to be spanked by, but when you meet her husband, I never said that." She winked at Morgan and then continued to the question. "Snow Valley Memorial Centre for Mutant Research. We're a think-tank, do research on various mutant-type issues. Sometime we wind up working with Xavier's, but most of the time we're doing our own thing. Lots of travel, field work and for me, musty old libraries."
"That sounds...really fucking boring. It's not as bad as it sounds, right?" Morgan could think of very few things she'd enjoy even less than sitting around doing research all day. Eight years bouncing between war zones gave a girl a certain standard of the type of thing she expected from a work day. Libraries was not it whatsoever.
"Oh, you'd be surprised." Amanda grinned at her own joke, thinking of some of their jobs. "The perils of paper cuts an' rogue photocopiers an' all."
"Sounds right dangerous, that," Morgan said dryly. Amanda looked far too amused for that to be all there was to it. There was something about it she wasn't saying but it wasn't important most likely so Morgan didn't go digging, but it was obvious to tell she'd picked up on something from the way she looked at Amanda.
Morgan might have picked up on something, but that was all she was going to get. "Fancy a dance?" she asked instead, even as images of a laughing, dark-haired girl with a skateboard flickered through her head. Bloody brain...
The smile appeared instantaneously. She was much too practiced at smiling at appropriate times to curb the impulse even if she'd wanted to, not that she did. It morphed afterward, turning more mischievous and playful and erasing the sweetness that had arranged itself on her lips first. Morgan held her hand out to Amanda before she spoke. "Turn down a beautiful girl? I'd never be that mad."
Mark was in fine form tonight. Amanda raised her glass to him in the DJ's booth and received a nod and a grin in return, before tossing back the rest of the drink and heading to the bar for another. She was keeping things in moderation, since spazzing out in the middle of Silver and drawing on the tables wasn't really something she wanted to do, but it was hot in the club and she'd been riding the vibe of the crowd for a couple of hours now.
Placing her order (and waving to Jay who was stuck down the other end with customers), she leaned forward against the bar, moving to the beat of the music and glancing around her. Good crowd, lots of people having fun... Amanda basked in it a little like someone basking in sunshine.
It had taken Morgan what she considered far too long to hear about Silver. She considered she should likely not be quite as opposed to the city as she was. Maybe she'd revise that policy after tonight. Nothing worked out excess energy like dancing did and after weeks of being holed up at Xavier's Morgan had more than enough to spare. Her hair had been thrown up into a ponytail but it didn't stop the sweat that she felt rolling down her spine. It wasn't necessarily her poison of choice as far as music went, but it had a beat fast enough to make her reach that giddyhappy that only happened when she danced.
Morgan wove through the crowd toward the bar, needing water to cool her skin before she went back in. If her legs worked at all to ride back to the school it'd be a miracle. She leaned over the bar slightly to get the attention of one of the bartenders and ask for two bottles of water before setting herself back on her feet. She probably made someone behind her very happy by doing that considering how short her skirt was. Clubbing clothes were not made for modesty. Glancing to the side she noticed the girl next to her, blonde and still moving with the music. She looked like she'd hit that giddy happy point as well and it made Morgan smile.
Catching the smile, Amanda returned it, even as she admired the other girl. Athletic, cute, dressed in a manner she approved of, and not one bit concerned about her obvious mutation. It was like Brighton all over again. She also looked vaguely familiar. In an effort to figure out why, the witch leaned over slightly and raised her voice a bit so she'd be heard over the music. "Hey. Haven't seen you here before. 'M Amanda."
"Haven't been before." As Morgan answered she heard the Irish undertones of her accent thicken, though it didn't quite nudge out the prominence of her Boston accent. "I'm Morgan, just found this place today, actually. You come here often, then?" And now she was checking Amanda out. Part was habit to size up what could have turned out to be a potential opponent. Mostly it was that she was cute and she had a British accent.
"Pretty much - DJ's a mate of mine." Over the music, Amanda caught the slight Irish lilt - not exactly home, but close. Interesting. And hey, she was being checked out - incorrigible, Amanda preened a little, a little frustrated she was still on the thin side after two weeks on the streets but knowing the leather pants forgave any amount of boniness. "Hopefully you find it to your liking - we like new faces here." She grinned as she said it.
"He's good." Her eyes went to the DJ booth briefly, watching the kid in it. He almost seemed to feed off the music the way Amanda was basking in it. Points for enjoying his job. Morgan's focus went right back to Amanda, a sly smile forming on her lips. "Now I'm hurt, love. Here I was hoping I was special but I'm just another new face, yeah?" She laughed, obviously joking.
"I don't think you're 'just' anything, but what can I say? Can't always judge a book by its cover - I tend to like to have a bit of a read before I make up my mind." Her drink arrived and she took a sip. "Just moved to New York?" she asked with friendly curiosity. "Sounds like you've spent a bit of time with the Paddies, to judge by your accent." Her own was broadening somewhat, the South London creeping back in.
"Yes and no," she said with a shrug. Unfortunately their accents seemed to feed off one another. Amanda's thickening brought more of the Irish in Morgan's. At the moment she was just glad she wasn't shifting to the South London of Amanda's voice, that happened all too easily with her. "I grew up in Boston. Southie, specifically, it's an Irish area. When I left Boston I hooked up with a bunch of guys who are mostly Americans but all are Irish, most of their families immigrating here more recently than mine did. And one was from Ireland so that didn't help. It rubbed off worse with them and I've not been back long enough for it to fade."
"So you're a bit of an accent sponge then?" Amanda chuckled. "See, I do that a bit too - as long as it's variations of Old Blighty. Being here for..." She had to think about it for a minute. "...five years has done sod all to my accent in terms of picking up the American - I just smooth out the worst of it so people understand me when I'm on the phone at work."
"Aye, a bit." Morgan's eyes went to the ceiling, a mix of faux impatience with herself and amusement. She cleared her throat. "More like a language sponge. Slang and all, as you see." Morgan shook her head at herself, laughing lightly. Her bottles of water finally appeared and she twisted the cap off, downing half of it in one go. "So why're you here? Not Silver, but the States. Why'd you leave England?"
"Mutant school," was the reply. "I needed training and there's this place called Xavier's where they can help with that." Amanda snorted. "Or try, at least. I wasn't exactly one of the success stories for a while there."
Morgan suddenly looked very, very amused. "Oh? You went to Xavier's? They asked me to teach kids how to fight recently." She grinned, sudden and broad. "Self-defense, fighting, pick and interpretation."
Smacking herself on the forehead, Amanda exclaimed out loud: "That's where I know you from! The fuckin' journals!" A little sheepishly, she turned back to Morgan. "I should have known from that, but I've been a bit scattered lately. Too much goin' on. How're you findin' the madhouse? Didn't take them long to get you into the teachin'."
She shrugged, "Told them I wouldn't stay there for free. Teaching the mini humans self-defense is better than moving stuff, literally." Now Morgan was staring at Amanda to try to remember if she'd noticed any icons of her on the journals but she didn't exactly pay the most attention ever to them. "The mansion's interesting. Bit odd. Some people are cool. Some're...well, thick as fucking hell. But that's life, yeah? So why were you such a failure, if you don't mind me asking?"
"Well, it's not so much thick as some of them having this whole self-righteous thing going on where they think they know better than everyone." Amanda said it without malice, but pulled a bit of a face remembering some of the threads after Mark's return from the 'dead'. "I had a few powers issues, made some bad choices, wound up gettin' myself royally in the shite and havin' to leave before I finished high school. Spent six months in New Orleans with the world's scariest woman gettin' my head back on straight and then came up here with Pete an' Remy, to work at the Snow Valley Centre." She raised an eyebrow at Morgan. "You don't strike me as the career teacher type, tho'. Mind if I poke a bit an' ask what brought you to the X geezer?"
Self-righteous, now wasn't that just one of Morgan's favorite things ever? She made a mental note to look out for that. Though, she put that whole panic over her mimicking people in that category a bit anyway. "I had a sort of powers side effect glitch that nearly got those Irish boys of mine killed. Couldn't have that, could I? So I came over to get it sorted. Jean's not bad, she's the one I'm working with. Though apparently she puts people over her knee," her eyebrows raised for a moment, helping her tone along with the implication that it was for entirely kinky reasons. She was still smiling but her voice dipped down to something more serious. "Since it sounds like I should get the reference but I don't, what's the Snow Valley Center?"
"Ah, powers glitches. Where would we be without the bastards?" Amanda rolled her eyes sympathetically. "Mine're a bit unhappy right now, which is why I came out for some 'therapy'." The comment about Jean made her laugh. "Well, I can think of worse people to be spanked by, but when you meet her husband, I never said that." She winked at Morgan and then continued to the question. "Snow Valley Memorial Centre for Mutant Research. We're a think-tank, do research on various mutant-type issues. Sometime we wind up working with Xavier's, but most of the time we're doing our own thing. Lots of travel, field work and for me, musty old libraries."
"That sounds...really fucking boring. It's not as bad as it sounds, right?" Morgan could think of very few things she'd enjoy even less than sitting around doing research all day. Eight years bouncing between war zones gave a girl a certain standard of the type of thing she expected from a work day. Libraries was not it whatsoever.
"Oh, you'd be surprised." Amanda grinned at her own joke, thinking of some of their jobs. "The perils of paper cuts an' rogue photocopiers an' all."
"Sounds right dangerous, that," Morgan said dryly. Amanda looked far too amused for that to be all there was to it. There was something about it she wasn't saying but it wasn't important most likely so Morgan didn't go digging, but it was obvious to tell she'd picked up on something from the way she looked at Amanda.
Morgan might have picked up on something, but that was all she was going to get. "Fancy a dance?" she asked instead, even as images of a laughing, dark-haired girl with a skateboard flickered through her head. Bloody brain...
The smile appeared instantaneously. She was much too practiced at smiling at appropriate times to curb the impulse even if she'd wanted to, not that she did. It morphed afterward, turning more mischievous and playful and erasing the sweetness that had arranged itself on her lips first. Morgan held her hand out to Amanda before she spoke. "Turn down a beautiful girl? I'd never be that mad."
