(Untitled)

[grenadeball]

WHO: OPEN.
WHERE: The flying nightclub Turing.
WHEN: Friday night
WARNINGS: Depends on who does what. This is Tank Girl's club, though.
SUMMARY: The grand opening of Turing!
FORMAT: Whatever!

Comments

[officerslinger]

Robyn fidgeted near the bar, rolling a pint glass of beer back and forth between her hands.

The Toybox was back in her quarters. She felt a little naked without its weight in her arms, and overdressed at the same time, out of her layers of Goodwill finds and in a simple red and black dress.

Part of her wanted to retreat to the control room and check the systems again.

[shockheadedpete]

Pete is the exact opposite of overdressed. He is, in fact, dressed in a way that would only be appropriate if he had some farming planned. He doesn't.

"It's really pretty awesome," he tells her.

Pete's taste is suspect, but it's an earnest compliment.

headbutts job in the face

[officerslinger]

Robyn turns to him and grins.

"Pete! You made it." She doesn't give his outfit a second look; fashion in Neopolis was utterly impossible to follow and she'd seen much stranger things than overalls at a nightclub.

"Yeah, thanks! I'm really glad the weather cooperated." She turned towards the strip of windows lining one side of the room. More of the guests were looking out over the City than were on the dancefloor.

Logs know no time limits

[shockheadedpete]

"Yeah, well. Yeah."

Nothing Peter is wearing has anything to do with fashion in any city or dimension.

He eyes the windows as well.

"Uh. What happens when it don't cooperate?"

Pete isn't a huge fan of flying. Although he's slightly less uncomfortable with it at the moment.

[cantyouhearmy]

They went to all the work of getting dressed up, and Billy's been sort of worried about that -- not sure how out of place it would make them seem -- but in the end it worked out okay. Tank's wearing a dress, after all. A few guys in suits weren't going to stand out in comparison.

Usually, Billy would be sticking pretty closely to Teddy anyway, but tonight he's basically glued to his side, making sure that he's fed a steady diet of sugar to keep him from trying to take anything in the club apart.

"How you doing on gummy bears?" he asks, eying the pocket that should contain gummy bears to see if there's any indication that it's getting low on them.

[skrullactually]

Teddy is halfway chewing through a handful of them when Billy asks so instead of answering, he simply opens his mouth -- his tongue stained an unnatural color from all of the candy Billy seems intent on feeding him tonight. He rolls the sticky, technicolor mass of chewed-up jelly around to give Billy a better look.

Snapping his mouth shut again, he smiles lazily and reaches out to straightens Billy's tie. "No desire to dismantle the room yet, Bill, don't worry."

[cantyouhearmy]

Billy blinks, cross-eyed, down at his tie and then lifts his face back up to Teddy. He makes a face that acknowledges that he is being needlessly neurotic but after a second, he glances off to the side in the direction of the sound system, which ruins the effect a bit.

"I know," he says, tugging on the bottom of his jacket because it doesn't seem to want to lie flat. "But you know me. I worry."

[skrullactually]

"Don't," Teddy says, leaning close and knocking foreheads with Billy briefly. He can smell the sugar on his own breath which is equal parts kind of funny and totally gross. With two of his fingers he fishes around the inside pocket of Billy's suit jacket and -- with a quiet "ah" -- eventually pulls out a pixie stick. "We're supposed to be having fun tonight and if I've got to check my own shiny new brand of neurosis at the door, so do you, got it?"

He rips the end of the pixie stick off and sticking out his tongue, pours a little bit of it onto it. The pale purple powder begins to dissolve into a bit of grape-flavored goo on his tongue. Smirking, Teddy tips his head forward towards Billy, like he's offering.

[shockheadedpete]

There's no good reason someone should be wearing overalls and t-shirt in a dance club. There are reasons, like, say, someone has recently lost a lot of weight in a short amount of time and doesn't have anything else that fits. Or someone has never actually set foot in a club before in his life. Or someone has always had really questionable taste in clothing regardless of waist-size. Something like that.

Pete looks equal parts impressed with the place, and like he wishes he had stayed home.

[attackbackpack]

There was no way he could have not been impressed by the zeppelin. It had a cool name, which was an equally cool reference in the first place, and, okay, it was a flying club. He was a little reminded of Vicious hovering her concerts places through less mechanical means.

Unfortunately for his company, his being impressed came out in the form of verbal diarrhea. "Wow," he said, turning back to Sera (he would have mumbled if not for the music that required talking over) "this is neat, isn't it?" Stating the obvious: one of Kelton's few fortes.

That, however, gave way to his constant worrywarting. "Are you, y'know, is it... alright? Not too big of a crowd or anything?" He had been half surprised Sera'd agreed to go in the first place.

[attackbackpack]

"Okay," he nodded, "yeah, good." His fretting was placated enough by her answer to shut him up. Outwardly, at least. Even if it had to only be inwardly, he just couldn't close his stupid yap.

Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe I shouldn't have bothered her. Maybe she really isn't okay.

"No, no, it's - it's fine, if you don't want to, uh, stick around for very long," he hastened to add, "we can go if you want to go, I don't mind. So. Whenever you wanna."

He managed to go quiet again, save for a constant stream of small "sorry"s he handed out to the others jostling into him by accident.