xp_logs | Party Mutant: Extra Footage

Three logs that somehow got lost in the shuffle. My apologies.

TAROT/JUBILEE/DOUG: So Many Outfits, So Little Time

Jubilee stuck her head around the door to Marie-Ange's room and smiled.

"Yo, heard about the clubbing trip that's in the offing?"

Marie-Ange looked up from the pile of clothes that littered her bed, a pair of shoes in her hand, and rolled her eyes. "No, I just had an overwhelming urge to sort my clothes by colour."

Jubilee threw herself on the bed across from her and eyed the shoes.

"Dude, word of advice, stilettos not good for clubbing. By the way, since when do you own stilettos?"

Marie-Ange dangled the somewhat ominous looking shoes from her finger. "They are not mine. It was here when I moved in." She nudged a pair of low-heeled ankle boots with her foot. "I have shoes, and a shirt. I just can't find my brown pants."

Jubilee looked around, trying to spy the pants. "So, what exactly do they look like? Did you check under your bed?"

"Brown, suede, laces up in the front." Marie-Ange muttered something incomprehensible in French, and then lunged for a plastic-wrapped package. "I am stupid. I forgot I had put them in the box with my formal dress." She eyed Jubilee closely. "Please, please, please tell me you are not wearing that out?"

Jubilee looked down at the clothes she was wearing. Emerald green sparkly top, black leather hip hugger pants and her bright yellow leather jacket.

"What? What's wrong with it?"

Marie-Ange covered her eyes with one hand. "Green and yellow do not match. Especially not that green, and _that_ yellow." She concentrated, mentally assessing Jubilee's closet. "If you insist on the jacket then the white shirt, with sequins. If not, the green can stay. Otherwise, anything solid. No checks, no spots, and certainly nothing Clarice suggests. She has an obsession with plaid."

Jubilee raised an eyebrow and then shrugged. She wasn't sure what Ange had against yellow and green but she certainly wasn't about to go anywhere without her leather jacket. It'd been a present from her parents, the last one they'd ever given her. She knew Ange had a habit of being stubborn on certain things though, and she had her resolve face on.

"Alright, white shirt with sequins it is."

A tapping came on Marie-Ange's door. "Angie, you in there?" Doug peeked his head around the doorjamb. "I came by to return that book on tarot that you lent me. He poked a hand holding the book through and waved it. Taking in the dressed-up girls, he grinned. "Is somebody throwing a party? And why wasn't I invited?"

Jubilee grinned at Doug. "Secret hush-hush clubbing trip. Strictly on a need to know basis. So, wanna go?"

To describe the look on Marie-Ange's face as 'calculating' was probably an understatement. "Yes, there is clubbing, and just now, I have decided, you are going. You need a night out." She pointed to the pair of pants draped across her lap. "Jubilee? Make him go put some real pants on. Not blue ones."

Doug blinked at Marie-Ange's forcefulness. "Why do I have to go? And what's wrong with my pants?" He looked down at them, confused.

"You have to go because you need to relax, and your pants are blue, so you have to change them." Marie-Ange was obviously being deliberately obtuse. "Shoo. I have to put pants on. Go. Shoo."
Jubilee shrugged. "Dude, trust me on this one, when she's like this, just listen. 'sides, we can conspire and plot the --oof" Her sentence was cut off by well-aimed heavy sweater hitting the back of her head and covering her face. "Mmpph, mmmpf. Mmffpfpf."

"Plot the mmpph, mmmpf, mmffpfpf?" Doug shook his head. "I can translate most stuff, but I haven't discovered a talent for translating 'talking-through-a-sweater-in-your-face'." He sighed.
"Okay, I guess I'll go change. I dunno how much fun I'm gonna be, though." He moved quickly down the hall, returning a few minutes later in black jeans, a black t-shirt, and black Doc Martens.
Re-entering Marie-Ange's room, he spread his arms wide and turned in a circle. "Better?"

Jubilee trailed right behind, also having changed, excitedly pointing to Doug. "Look! Look! Mini-Spike! Ooh. Maybe we can get Shinobi to tell us where he got the eyebrow ring!"

"Much." While the two had gone, Marie-Ange had changed into a clingy
red velvet top, and equally clingy brown suede pants. "Jubilee, did Remy say anything to you about getting a taxi?"

"Nope. Just said that anything we needed would be where we could find it, yanno?"

Doug looked a little nervous. "I can't believe I'm breaking curfew and all that. Besides, how are we going to get into the club?" He tapped one foot against the floor.

Jubilee handed a slim plastic card to Doug. "Ask, and ye shall be ..
provided with? Um. I always screw up the Biblical-like quotes." The card was a fairly good representation of a New York State Drivers' License, with a picture of Jubilee but the name "Jung-Li Rosenstein" instead of her own. "Good, huh? Um. I think he made 'em for a bunch of us, cause there was one for Kitty, and I so know she's not gonna come with."

Doug scratched the license experimentally, then held it up to the side of Jubilee's face. He snickered. "Where did he get the picture? Not to mention the name. Jung-Li Rosenstein? I'm not sure I want to see what he came up with for me."

Marie-Ange grinned. "It is probably horrible. They all are."

Jubilee placed her fake ID back in her wallet and shoved it into her back pocket. She'd already had one but this one had a certain amusement value to it that made it worth using.

"So, are we gonna get this show on the road, or what? Thinkin' it's probably better we go out all seperate like, unless you can think of something better?"

Doug nodded his agreement. "See you out by the road, then." He made his way up toward his room to change.

TAROT/JUBILEE: Alcohol, My Permenant Accessory

Jubilee rested against the bench running along the wall, a glass of vodka and coke in her hand. She'd been dancing most of the night with a rather nice looking guy from out of town. Her rule of never getting involved with anyone you had to see on a regular basis was in effect.

She noticed Marie-Ange standing off to the side, having a breather as well and headed over in that direction.

Marie-Ange was in the middle of The Search for a Seat, and so was leaning against the wall, watching the tables with great intent. She caught a table being emptied just as she also caught sight of Jubilee's yellow jacket, and so waved at the other girl with one hand, while making a beeline for the table.

Jubilee nodded and started heading for the same table, hip checking a group of dancers that got a little too close.

Placing her drink on the table she slid into one of the seats, wriggling her butt till she found a semi-comfortable position on the hard plastic seat.

"So, having fun?" Jubilee asked.

Marie-Ange nodded. "Mostly. I had a bad moment with Monet, earlier, but I should have expected it. She was .. bitchy, I think is the word." She played with the straw to her own drink idly, and grinned. "But, the music is good, and there is certainly not a lack of scenery." She nods her head in the direction of the dance floor.

Jubilee nodded, letting her eyes scan the floor for their fellow students. "Haven't had the misfortune of meeting Monet yet, but from the journals she seems rather... interesting. Did you see the guy they've got serving drinks? Big, tall, like, a serious hotty in a rowr kinda way."

Marie-Ange laughed. "Yes, but he likes men. I saw him flirting with one of the guys when I was getting a soda."

Jubilee sighed in regret, leaning back in her chair and taking another sip of her drink. "Why is it all the hotties are always gay? Think guys would go for ID badges? Like, 'Sorry ladies, I only bonk guys' or somethin' like that? Oh! Guess what shirt I saw? Like, there was this girl with this really cool dark blue shirt with yellow writing 'Drink till he's cute', I so want that shirt."

Marie-Ange stared openly at Jubilee for several minutes, and then started giggling. "That is awful! That is a terrible shirt. You should buy one! That, and the shoes with fish in that I saw!"

Jubilee laughed, saving herself at the last moment as her chair wobbled dangerously. "Dude, you saw shoes with fish? Were they alive? Cause, you know, dead floating fish shoes would smell after awhile."

"No, I think they had.. I don't know. The women just had fish in her shoes. Maybe they were fake fish?" Marie-Ange grinned. "Dead fish shoes would also not be attractive. Ick."

Jubilee nodded, passing the small plate of beer nuts over to Angie after grabbing some for herself.

"Did you see the guy with the flares? I couldn't decide whether he was like, stuck in the 70's or trying to make a statement. Although, with the neon pink shirt, I'm not terribly sure that statement needed to be made."

Marie-Ange eyed the plate, and then pushed it back, not even wanting to ask what they were. "I think I blocked that out. Traumatic amnesia." She grinned at Jubilee. "I had the worst experience. I was watching this very cute boy dance, and he turned around, and it was Shinobi. I think Sarah might kill me."

Jubilee raised an eyebrow. "Shinobi? Dude, Sarah would so kill you. Me, I prefer my guys a bit bigger. Kinda like Cain, only, like, not so damn old."

Marie-Ange gaped openly at Jubilee. "EW! Mister Marko? EW! He's scary, and .. just .. scary! " She shook her head, obviously considering Jubilee to be insane. "Shinobi is good to look at. All legs and stomach. But, yes Sarah would poke me full of holes. Manuel, or Remy though. No scary girlfriends, and still nice to look at."

Jubilee raised an eyebrow. "Dude, no, see, like big guys, you're thinkin', muscles and big arms and tall and Mmmm." Jubilee paused for a second, reviewing the image in her head. "Dude, Marko is so not scary."

"No, I am thinking "Big and could sit on me and break my back!" and I am thinking "If his arm is that big, how big is the rest of him?", and he is scary, I'm sorry. He .. " Marie-Ange trailed off, not sure how to explain what she'd seen. "He works for Sauron."

Jubilee blinked at her friend, and pushed her drink to the side. "Sauron? No, you don't understand. It's not like I'm jonesing after him or somethin', way too old. Just, Marko saved my life. He found me. I...he's just not scary, okay? I know he didn't expect to find me there. Dude, I can't remember a damn thing about what happened that day, I don't know why. But I know he found me. That's worth somethin' to me. "

Marie-Ange shrugged, and shook her head. "It is hard to explain. I just .. I think there is something wrong with him." She peered at Jubilee curiously. "Did you talk to Doctor MacTaggart, or make an appointment with that doctor that Professor Xavier asked to come to talk to us?"

Jubilee shook her head and shifted in her seat, looking uncomfortable.

"Not yet. I meant to go see Moira, but then school work kinda got in the way. Gonna try and make another appointment with her though. Seriously not gonna go see Chuck's shrink. Had enough strange doctors trying to get into my head after my parents died. Course, "making sure you're going to deal with this tragedy properly" didn't seem to stop the bastards from sticking me with people who felt the need to use me as some kind of target practice."

Marie-Ange shrugged again. "You know Doctor MacTaggart is also, as you say, a shrink? Besides, if no one is making you go, no one can make you keep going. What harm can it do to talk to him once?"

Jubilee took a swig of her drink and trailed the napkin in circles behind her finger.

"Least Mac is one of us. Don't have to worry about her throwing me in some psych place and throwing away the key. Angie, I feel cold all the fucking time now, and I can't figure out why. I'm sparking every time anyone so much as turns on a tap. I can't talk to anyone, cause everyone's so damn busy either bitching about security or saying how they don't feel safe anymore. How safe is anyone gonna feel around me, hey? Dude, you can't say anything about this, okay? Promise me you won't."

"I promise I won't. Pas à moins que je pense il est nécessaire. Not a word." Marie-Ange nodded in what she hoped was a reassuring manner, and stomped down the tiny voice in her head screaming at her for tricking Jubilee. "I do not think they would lock you up, though. There are people who have more problems than you that we have not locked up."

Jubilee shook her head. "Somethin' we're just gonna have to disagree on. Now, what did you think of the cocktails in this place? I'm thinkin', something with chocolate."

Jubilee hoped Angie would let her steer the conversation away, she hadn't yet been able to remember anything previous to Cain picking her up from the floor of the boathouse and it wasn't a lapse she really wanted to admit to. Especially considering the stains she'd noticed on the bottom of her slippers.

Marie-Ange eyed Jubilee suspiciously. "Chocolate. In a drink, at a club." She shook her head despairingly. "I think I'm stopping for the night, actually. At least one of us should be sober enough to remember how to get home, and I know when I have had more than enough."

Jubilee grinned. "Well, suit yourself. I intend to work my way through the cocktail list by alphabetical order. The chocolatey drink is a Toblarone, so I've got to get up to T before I can have it. So, what do you think, should I cover all Amanda's possessions in cling wrap, or foil? Saw the foil thing in a newspaper and it looked cool."

Marie-Ange covered her eyes with her hand. "If you vomit anywhere near me, I am never going to forgive you. Vomit is an unforgivable offence. Neither, please. We do not need a repeat of Amanda's glitter incident."

MANUEL/AMANDA: Green Is Your Colour, Boys

Manuel's just coming back from being out on the floor. From the looks he's getting, it seems that he's been a very popular dance partner. But by the look on his face, he's one step away from faceplanting. He's heading for the bar like it's an oasis in a desert.

He's not the only one at the bar. Amanda is making good use of her accent and her other... assets to get free drinks out of the local boys.

Manuel stumbles over to the bar, his eyes glowing red to clear him some prime real estate next to Amanda. To the barkeep, he glances over and throws a fifty dollar bill onto the counter. "Courvoisier. And whatever she wants." he says, nodding his head at Amanda.

"You look all in," she says after ordering a couple of vodka shots.

"I feel great." he says, smiling a death's head grin. "It has been one hell of an evening. But I think I need to ask of you a favor. I'll pay for it with some nice juicy gossip."

"Gossip, eh?" she replies, grinning. Her face is flushed and sweat sticks her hair to her forehead - she's been working the floor herself pretty hard. "What d'you need?"

Manuel nods. "Of course. The kind only I can give you. And what I need is a quick refresher on that healing spell of yours. I think I got a little too vigorous earlier." And with a wink, he lets Amanda know just
_what kind_ of vigor he was showing.

"You _have_ been havin' fun, haven't you?" she chuckles. Glancing around, she spots a couple of seats in a dim corner. "Over there - don't want one of these idiot Americans freakin' out on us."

Manuel nods, collects his drink, and unsteadily makes his way over to the aforementioned table. Using his empathy, he convinces a quartet of teenagers that that table was the _last_ place they really wanted to be. Their fear was a salve to his overexcited nerves as he sank into the chair unsteadily. "Ow." he said.

Tossing back one shot and grabbing the other, Amanda follows, sitting with her back to the dance floor so what she's doing is partially shielded. "This will take a sec." She closes her eyes, trying to concentrate above the noise of the music and the crowd, and a faint glow appears in her hands. "Legs?"

"Legs and abdomen again." he clarifies. He takes a fast swallow of his drink, then grips the edges of the table in anticipation of a lot of pain.

Fortunately this time Amanda isn't quite so highly charged. There is some pain, but not nearly as much as she lets the spell work on abused tissue. After ten minutes, she opens her eyes, the glow leaving her hands. "There, done. As good as I could make it, any way. Yer need to give yerself a chance to heal, yer wanker." The insult is without malice.

"I wasn't the one doing the wanking." he smirks right back. "And judging by the pretties back at the bar, you've been making new friends as well." he smirks. Residual lust and greed and desire wash over him like waves at the beach, all of them aimed at Amanda from the boys back at the bar. "Think you're going to indulge any of them?"

She shrugs. "Maybe. They're a bit soft - I might break 'em. Like my toys a bit tougher."

She downs her second shot, the alcohol countering the fatigue caused by the spell. "So what's this goss yer got?'

Manuel hrms at that, considering his own all-too-fragile constitution.
"It's about everyone's favorite purple girl. Apparently, she's quite upset and jealous of your little tryst with the Cajun. She might even be planning to _do_ something about it."

Amanda laughs. "What, the Pixie's got it for Remy? An' she's after me?
Oh, that's worth more than a healin' spell. Best joke I've heard all night." She tilts her head. "Think he knows about it?"

"That psychopath? Probably. He threatened to kill me the other day."
Manuel says while stretching deeply to test the extent of the healing.
"That didn't hurt nearly as much as the last time."

"I wasn't as nearly off me face this time - I was better able t' control it." Amanda catches the wave of hostility rolling off Manuel and avoids mentioning Remy again.

“And not being linked to me at the time probably helped." he commented.
"Well, I think one of your admirers is nerving himself to come over here and kick my ass a sign of his True Devotion to you. What a tonker."

Amanda laughs at the idea. "Definitely a prat," she agrees. She runs her hands up Manuel's legs. "How devoted, d' yer reckon?"

Manuel grins at the sensation, and stops to do a quick check. "He feels that he's your One True. Either than or he's high. One of the two, it's hard to tell." Manuel chuckles rudely. "I'm sorely tempted to demonstrate how wrong he is."

"I've always thought it was best t' give int' temptation," suggests Amanda with a wicked grin. "What have yer got in mind?"

"Lest it not come your way again." he says, completing the thought. And without further ado he grabs the back of Amanda's hair and plants a huge kiss on her, bending her as far as backwards as her flexibility will let her go. All the while, he keeps an eye on the approaching would-be suitor.

Amanda plays along, enjoying the game, and truth be told, the kiss, in equal measures.

Manuel keeps it going, using all of his skill to make it obvious how
_good_ it is, how exciting and dangerous and forbidden. The would-be suitor just stops to glare, then stomps back off towards his clique of waiting buddies.

When he lets her back up for air, Amanda is breathless. "Did we break him?" she asks, giggling a little.

Manuel just grins as he pulls Amanda back up to a sitting position.
"No, he's just back among his buddies trying to convince himself that he never really wanted you anyway. How sad for him, don't you think?"

She nods. "No stayin' power, that one. So much for True Love," she says, smirking. She tilts her head at the dance floor. "You up for showin' these bumpkins how it's done?"

"What, right here? In front of the entire club? I had no idea you were
_that_ risqué..." he grins. "Oh, wait, the dance floor! Sure, I can do that too."

"After th' common room, you should know I like risks," she replies, laughing and standing. She grabs his hand and pulls him up. "But I'll settle for a dance for now."