All I Want for Christmas is Booze
Roleplaying Log: All I Want for Christmas is Booze
IC Details

It's Jingle Mingle 90s Night at Shakedown!

Other Characters Referenced:
IC Date: December 14, 2018
IC Location: Shakedown - Mutant Town
OOC Notes & Details
Posted On: 14 Dec 2018 16:50
Rating & Warnings:
NPC & GM Credits: NPCs and general shenanigans by Rictor
Associated Plots

The club hasn't been called Shakedown very long. It's been about a month under new ownership and under a rebrand. But the way to sink a business with a following is to change too much all at once. All of this to say - themed dress up 90s nights are really not Rictor's thing, but it's a tradition from when this place was called Club Karma. And Christmastime is a bad time of year to break with tradition.

The halls have been decked. The staff are all wearing some variation of elf or Santa. Many of the staff are visibly mutant, which means at least one set of pointed ears aren't fake. Drinks are suitably merry themed (which means of course, peppermint vodka is on offer) and everyone who enters gets a battery-operated string of lights or a candy cane striped glow necklace (while quantities last.)

It's early yet - just quarter to ten, but people are starting to stream inside. Right now Missy Elliott is telling the revelers to get their freak on. Appropriate, given the colourful cast of characters who consider the club their second home.

* * *

For the better part of the last month or so, Sloane L. Albright has been chained to her work. It isn't that she's been on back to back missions, or filling out mountains of paperwork, but something of an exile of her own choosing— she digs in as much as she can, and lately it's been hard for her to focus on a whole lot of other things other than Christmas, her family (and lack thereof) and friends long away from the 'States. All in all, it's kept her distracted —

— but she just *needs* to get out now and then.

Standing at the bar alone, the SHIELD agent has gone for a cross between Christmas and the '90s: A red, green, and black plaid flannel button-up shirt, rolled up to just below the elbows worn over a long-sleeved white t-shirt with a fake 'ugly sweater' pattern of a nutcracker soldier and a some strange version of a sugarplum fairy holding hands under mistletoe. Her skirt's denim, just above her knees and frayed at the edges, with warm leggings and sturdy mid-shin boots.

Her eyes — fiery orange and vertically slit pupils — are for once not hidden away behind her aviators, which are instead hanging by one of the arms from the collar of her shirt. Sloane's ears just as pointed as the festive employees— though her ears, like her face, are swathed and marked with blue scales. A festive candy cane glow necklace is definitely hanging around her neck.

And lord she just looks so, so nervous to be here, especially alone— especially when she takes a drink of that peppermint vodka and makes *such a liquor face*.

* * *

On a night like tonight. On a party like this. There are some people who would be smart to keep a low profile. The club. The setting. Even the clientele around. With the sword of regrestration hanging over their heads those of Mutant Town might not like reminders of it. Yes. Better to keep heads down. Keep a low profile. That would be the smart thing to do.

…and then on the other hand there is Tony Stark.

It begins as a dull roar getting swiftly louder. It gains volume as it closes the quiet rumble of repulsor engines laced under the blaring high tech speakers of…something….playing…Christmas music. At volume.

It resolves into something tall and humanoid streaking though the air. Something that lands outside of the club with a metalic /thunk/ as it touches down. Bright metalic green armor, painted to look like wrapping paper with little christmas trees on it. Cherry red bow on one shoulder. The familiar form of the Iron Man suit raises to its full height…

Rumors of his death or dissipearance abounded after his double mishaps, but after tonight no one will argue that Tony Stark is…well…back.

God help the world.

The armor cycles open as the man himself steps out, dressing in a green suit with red pinstripes. Little snowflake cufflinks. Santa print tie. Little Santa hat at a jaunty angle and a grin as wide as his ego. "JARVIS!" He calls as he taps the chest of the armor after it cycles clothes. "Spread some mirth and joy!"

"…this is highly undignified, sir." The AI in the Armor murmurs but dutifilly on turns the holoprojectors in the suits to create a trio of great spinning christmas trees floating in the air in front of club. They may or may not dance to the music from the suit.

"Cheer up, buddy." Stark replies with a smirk as he reaches up to pull out a pair of glasses. Even though its night. Said glasses look to be actually /made/ out of some kind of flexible neon. That blinks 'STARK' and 'Merry Christmas' and 'Happy Holidays' across the earpieces every so often. In red and green of course. "Its Christmas."

And with that he turns to stroll inside, snapping his fingers to activate the holoprojectors in his own more mundane suit to blink out Merry Christmas down the sleeves as well as give him a holographic cloak of glittering tinsel.

…no. No one will /ever/ dispute that Tony Stark is back in town.

* * *

If she was going to a 90s party, Valerie was going as Madonna. She arrives in standard long coat- perfect for a New York winter. Under that? A rather faithful reproduction of the costume Madonna wears in her Human Nature video. High heels, PVC catsuit, including corset fit for actual movement and dancing. Her nails are dark. Her lips a very deep red.

Of course, all of this looks a little different on the lithe form of the Japanese American woman wearing it. The glasses she wear make it a little less obvious, perhaps, just who she's dressed up as.

Still, she walks in those surprisingly high heels with a great deal of confidence as she sets her jacket aside, and shoulders her little purse.

Her entrance happens after Iron Man's, however, so she's very nearly invisible in comparison- which doesn't seem to bother Valerie at all. Stark can have the glitz and glam and all the rest- she's here for fun and drinks.

* * *

One of the benefits of working in fashion, is knowing that things come around again and listening to the designers and makeup artists talk about it. So the slip dress is silver and sparkling, with an appropriate black velvet choker danging a sparkly charm, and instead of heels, there are pewter doc martens. Betsy has her hair half up in a high ponytail, the rest tumbling over her shoulders.

She watches the display from the undoubted Iron Man, one purple brow arching. She won't linger long watching, instead advancing to get into the club with her tiny purse that hangs from a chain rather than a strap.

* * *

Someone really should tell Rictor that he's the boss and doesn't need to work the bar anymore. In fact, he probably shouldn't. But one of his bartenders called in sick and another staff member is trying to get a babysitter before coming in. He's behind the main bar with four other staff members. Unlike his staff, he's not jingled to the nines. Instead, he's wearing all black, though the button-up does have a slight sheen to it, and he has a garland of lights around his neck and a candy cane glow bracelet on each wrist.

He shakes a shaker and fills up a pink drink for a bartender, then upnods at Sloane. "I can make you something else you know. To me, peppermint vodka sounds more appealing than it actually is. I…" He's cut off by one of his staff touching him on the shoulder to murmur something. "Stark is here? Really?" He mutters something colourful under his breath in Spanish. "Is this good, bad?" He shakes his head. "I suppose we will find out."

* * *

She'd protested. Too much homework. She needed to finish a feasibility study for her internship research. She ought to be spending the time studying or patrolling instead of partying. She didn't drink: she wasn't old enough and besides, it was one of the things she was reasonably observant about. There could be trouble, and that was the last thing she needed to be a part of.

This all fell on deaf ears, or at least on ears that didn't give a hoot about any of it. Kamala Khan, you ARE going to the ball. Or at least the 90s party.

At least she's dressed for it. Kamala's dressed as what she remembers most vividly from the decade she was just barely born into. Long blonde hair. Really long. Like, far too long to be sensible. It's bound up at least a bit, though, in a bun on either side of the top of her head. The freaking adorable red, white, and blue sailor suit plus red choker with a gold moon… , those are as obviously there as the long white gloves and tall red boots. Brown as she is, it's hard to pull off Sailor Moon and look NORMAL, but who could ever do that?

It would have been easy enough to do all this with a little careful shapeshifting. But Kamala does costumes RIGHT, which means the only part of herself that she's having to focus on is her hair. The outfit, though? Absolutely homemade, and this isn't the first time she's worn it. She even has a little stuffed Luna in her shoulderbag.

"Okay, but did cosplay even EXIST in the 90s?" she hisses to Dinah, clutching her bag and flashing a bright smile at the bouncer. It's the same old story: look like you belong and half the time nobody cards you, right? But it's one thousand percent helped by Tony Stark's Entrance. It earns the capital letters, and as she looks back around at her boss, she covers her face with one white-gloved hand. "Omigosh Mister Stark," she mutters under her breath, "you are the literal worst." But she's still smiling. Or grimacing. If it's the latter, it's probably in anticipation of what Pepper is going to say. Or do. Especially with the Disapproving Stare.

* * *

Meggan Puceanu still had her power-shoulders aggressive businesswoman outfit from a previous adventure. Thanks, recycled field costumes! She did have it laundered, though, and now she's stalking in with her hair both 'up' and 'big' as she radiates pastel determination. She is doing her best Business Grimace, as well.

It's kind of fun.

Then there's a roar. "Oh no," Meggan says near Sloane, looking upwards, as if she's expecting a V1 attack or something. Fortunately the problem is not the rocket assault of Adolf's bright boys; it is, instead, another horrible thing.

"Ohmigod," Meggan says, also to Sloane (she has no choice), "is that /Bruce Wayne?/"

'Mister Stark' someone says in the distance.

Meggan grimaces, leans against the bar and asides to Rictor, "Can I have a tequila please? I need to forget a couple of things very quickly."

* * *

A vision in white enters the room. Straight out of a boy band video from the 90s, white tank top, white dress shirt all the way open, white pants, you get the idea. And though it's been days since the event at Luke's Owen Mercer looks very much like he might have been partying ever since. The traces of eyeliner still sit smudged around on his face and his hair an even more clear representation of tortured chaos in ginger form. And while it may be a 90s themed party, it's also Christmas, so wrapped around the white outfit is a strand of white holiday twinkle lights. He's like an angel, or maybe Ashley Parker Angel at least.

And Owen wastes no time in getting this party going. He breezes straight up to the bar and orders a shot and a beer before even noticing the glowing, sparkly, technological holiday wonder that is Tony Stark at this party. He shoots finger guns at Tony and calls, "Tony! Congrats on not being dead!" But he has his attention quickly turned back to his drinks, which are combined and drank post haste.

* * *

"How am I supposed to know? My biggest concern about Y2K was if it was gonna mess with my Barbies," Dinah tells Kamala.

She flips her blonde hair over one shoulder and flashes a dazzling smile at a pair of gentlemen giving her a once-over. Her outfit? Baywatch. Though, at least she's got the good sense to wear nude leggings under the costume, with matching slippers. Still, the famous red bathing suit is anything but made for actual swimming or modesty.

She blinks at the roar of engines and fire from outside, and looks a little stunned to see Tony ing Stark entering the party. "Holy shit," she breathes, eyes widening. Her blue-eyed gaze flickers to Meggan, and a frown furrows her brow. "Wait, you *know* him?" she inquires of the woman, sounding a little awestruck. A party by association, she'd arrived with Kamala in an ad hoc party, which of course meant meeting Sloane and Meggan and affirming undying loyalty at least until last call.

"Hey, make it four of those!" she calls to Rictor before he can get too far away. "Kammie, get up here and learn how to do a tequila shooter," Dinah says, and reaches waaay over the bar to steal some salt and limes.

* * *

"Yeah, something a little more…" Sloane replies, swirling her hand in the air. "Sorry, it's just—" Her tongue flicks out with a point toward it, "Two years later and everything's still like you just brushed your teeth, you know? Oh, oh, what was it — a Cable Car? Yeah, that's a '90s cocktail, I think…"

'Stark is here?'
Sloane's eyes go a little wide, then roll upwards. "/Ughhhh/."

Then she actually /looks/ at Tony, and her face reaches some kind of exponential scrunch, spinning to face the bar again. "I swear to god, Tony," she murmurs to herself, trying so hard to pretend that she did not see him and please don't ever see her, ever, not like this NOT LIKE THIS. "That is Tony Stark," she replies to Meggan, pursing her lips and hoping the drinks make it to her faster and faster.

"I'll give him one thing, he never does anything half-assed."

* * *

Psylocke isn't shy, moving along with that 'lead with the hips' sort of model stalk for the bar. She will slide past Tony Stark, winking one eye at him. "The art of subtlety isn't yours, Mr. Stark. At least you've the wit to lean into it." There's a bright, camera worthy smile for him, before the mutant model continues on to get herself a drink. You know what should be on special. ZIMA.

* * *

"I what? Know? Um. Kinda!" Kamala puffs herself up a bit: "You know how it goes. You're heroing around and then you just… meet people…" And end up becoming their interns. But not in the 90s sense, because ew no.

"Dinaaaaah, you know I don't drink!" She's getting dragged along anyway, though, and mostly manages to stay upright. "But I will ABSOLUTELY observe and take copious notes." Even though her mom is definitely going to murder her if she finds out her daughter went to a BAR.

"Sloane! HIIIII." She throws an arm around her fellow Inhuman's shoulders and gives her a quick hip-bump, then takes a step back: "What do you think? I thought I was going to end up being overdressed, but it turns out…" Glance back to Tony. Wave to Tony. Hiiii, Tony. Wait. Tony knows how old she is. Turn away and pretend not to see Tony.

* * *

"Owen! Don't drink everything that isn't hidden behind the counter!" Stark returns with a wide grin towards Captain Boomerang as strides like a king among the people there. Its a suprise he doesn't have a holographic crown but he decided that might be a bit /too/ much. Even for him.

His eyes never seem to still, flickering from one party guest to the next. The man has an excess of energy but he always has. They stop on Betsy for one, Valerie for a second but continue onwards as he cuts his way to the most important place in the room.

The Bar.

He also, for those that know him, looks even better than he used to after a few near death experiances. Better than he has any right to really. I mean it /is/ Tony Stark though.

And now he's cutting his way towards the bar. "Bruce could never pull this look off," He drawls in Meggan's direction as he looks over the offerings there. Eyes flicking up from under the neon sunglasses to look at the little knot of people there with a smirk. "Fish girl!" This towards Sloane. "I got your guitar finished, found it in the move after I stopped trying to die." Then a glance between Kamala and Dinah and he just smirks slightly. Does he judge?

He has no room to!

"No hangovers or Pepper will call you in early. Because she will /know/. She always knows." A beatpause. "Always."

But then there is a voice from his other side and he stops pondering reaching over the bar for a bottle of whatever he can grab to turn towards Betsy with a smirk. "When you look this good, you don't need to be subtle. Something you should know pretty well yourself." He tosses back towards her. Because he can never keep his mouth shut.

* * *

The problem with being the boss and tending bar is that it really is hard to do both at once. Rictor is thinking through how to deal with Tony Stark hotdogging it at a quasi-dive in Mutant Town, while also racking up tequila shots for Meggan and trying to remember what the heck goes in a cable car. And his mutant power is not multitasking. He leans over to the bar to Sloane and says, "Casey will get your cable car, one second," and then he makes change for Owen, pausing a moment to say, "George Michael was more of an 80s guy."

And then, there's the man himself. He clenches his jaw and takes in the uh…'wonder' that is Tony's suit. Because he's kind of cynical, he can't help but wonder what brings a billionaire to a place like this. But then said billionaire is getting grabby-handed with his bottles. "Oy. I don't care how famous you are. Ask before grabbing my bottles." Brows go uuuuup.

The music transitions to Sandstorm by Darude which causes a bit of a charge towards the dance floor. The bottle service girls, dressed in short Santa dresses have started cycling the floor, selling shots for cash. The party is really starting to jump.

* * *

Valerie, now at the bar. "I'll have a beer." she says, with a quiet smile- just watching Tony's antics and how everyone seems to know him- or at least act like they do. She pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose. Her eyes slide over towards Betsy and her 'lead with the hips' walk. She just smiles a bit to herself.

"Looks like a fun night." she says, mostly to herself- some, at least in the science community, might recognize Valerie- she is very likely one of the most talented biochemists in the city.

* * *

Psylocke smirks at Stark as she leans against the bar, a hand lifting to slide purple hair back off a mostly bare shoulder. It will then skim along the slightly shimmering silver velvet slip dress. "Well, yes. But I wanted to match theme. It was a fun dive through an old friend's closet." That smile flashes again, before she will glance at a bartender and order vodka on the rocks. "Not that peppermint crap. Just plain old vodka." The smile is warm, before she slides money on the bar.

She turns her head back to Tony, head tilting. "Do the cufflinks spin or twinkle or play music or something?" She's mostly teasing.

* * *

"Oh my god what is this even, you know I haven't worn this much color in forever. Did Kam get into the pixie sticks again?"

But despite her words, Zatanna Zatara seems to be in relatively good spirits compared to the last few weeks, and she's dressed to theme - or at least, she's showing up in solidarity because Sailor Moon clearly needs to have her posse. While relatively unfamiliar with the characters of the famous series herself, she just picked the one with the purple and red motif and went from there, drawn to her favorite colors. Plus she had black hair, that was always a plus.

So after presenting her ID to the bouncers outside, she arrives in an accurate costume because magic is handy for such things: red stilettos, a short pleated skirt, the sailor top with the red hemming, the gloves that pull past the elbows and a star choker threaded in ribbon around her neck. She even straightened her hair out for this, her normally wavy midnight hair spilling like an inky curtain down her back. She even has the circlet on with the red stone.

But she is an entertainer by nature. She is all about dressing up. With one arm curling around Tim's and one arm curling around Nico's, she drags her fellow Titans with her inside once they have assured the bouncer that they're of age.

"Come on, guys," Sailor Mars continues. "Let's go see if our princess is in this castle."

She means Kamala.

* * *

"He kinda looks like a jerk," Dinah mutters at Kamala. She tries to gloss over her faux pas with regards to Kamala's religious preferences. "Taking notes is good," she assures Kammie. "At least you can fake it until you make it. If you're ever at a bar, order a virgin cuba libre," she tells Kammie, beckoning the other woman along. Tony's flickering back and forth earns him a look from Dinah, and a hard narrowing of her eyes, however minute. She seems to be a little protective of her wingmate, and her body language projects a warding wall around Kamala even as she bellies up to the bar and tosses her hair over one shoulder to get Rictor's attention.

"Meggan, and… Sloane," Dinah says, indexing a finger at her two new friends. "C'mon, let's show Kamala how to do a tequila shooter properly," she says, distributing salt and limes as needed.

* * *

Meggan gives Tony her best weak smile even as there is a radiated 'ughhh' coming off of Sloane with semi-radioactive force. "It's wonderful to see you," Meggan says to him, especially as she is given a shot, which she immediately murders with malice aforethought.

She exhales.

MEANWHILE, someone else comes in next to the soldier of Mars. Nico Minoru's jeweled high choker, gauzy 'dress,' and actual very-dark-red dress beneath it are entirely explicable. The hair is a little improvised because she had to bunch up what she did into appropriate yamlike shapes and then spray on a bunch of pink.

Nico is proudest of the costume-correct earrings. She didn't take out the septum piercing 'cuz it seemed to fit. "Fah," she says, once they're inside, "thank /god/," because this outfit is *really cold*. She takes a moment to recover, shaking her head, putting a hand to her forehead.

"And this place is pretty sick," Nico continues. "I know Kiara."

MEGGAN, ON THE OTHER HAND, blinks and reaches quietly for a second shot of tequila, saying to Dinah as she does, "Oh, I just thought you drank it neat. Here, you show me too."

* * *

Scoffing at Rictor, Owen corrects him, "Oh no my friend, this is straight 90s boy band chic. Backstreet. N'Sync." At least Owen's love of 90s pop music like Dazzler, Trish Walker, etc is consistent. But he doesn't seem to dwell on it too long. He laughs as Rictor talks about being short-staffed. He calls, "Hey, if you need a fill in bartender, I'm licensed." And a little drunk. And let's be honest, he barely managed to serve drinks at the party at the bar where he actually worked, but still he offers.

Turning to the door, Owen is mid-oggle of the latest Sailor … Someone to join the festivity when he sees who's on her arm. Not Nico. He sees Tim and turns back to the bar and calls, "I need more shots. Peppermint. Spearmint. Poor Judgement. I don't care, just hit me." Mentally he tries to to tell himself that he can do this. He can be civil and not an asshole. He can do that thing where people don't act out and say grossly innappropri… oh who the fuck is he kidding, this is going to be a train wreck.

* * *

"Thanks," Sloane replies, giving Rictor a friendly grin.

With an arm suddenly around her, Sloane's head snaps to the source, suddenly finding herself getting hip-checked by her stretchiest science friend around. "Kamala! Hey!" Sloane says, giving her fellow inhuman a quick hug. "I didn't expect to see you down here! No! Of course not. You look great. Please lord tell me you gotta wand in there and it lights up and stuff, I—"

Squint. Long stare.

Squint more… then the lean in to whisper, "You're not like — I mean — d-r-i-n-k— 'Cause you know — like." Sloane pantomimes a few things that she somehow tries to equate to 'i am a cop sort of and still have some kinds of obligation would you like to watch this ABC after school special.' "… Sorry. Are you wrangling Tony tonight?" she asks, pulling a thumb toward the Iron Man and his Merrymaker Suit.

She had to open her mouth. "Heyyyy, Tony, I—" Wait, her guitar? He actually — Shoot. Now she feels bad for being a little sassy about him when he arrived. … Though that suit is still pretty ridiculous. "R-Really? I didn't even think that was going … to… I mean … thanks! I'll come pick it up when I can."

A look is fired back toward Meggan. "Okay, so he's not that bad."

It keeps getting more and more busy, from Madonnas and more Sailor Scouts and — and here she was worried about showing up at a bar, alone, dressing like a bit of a dork. "Yes, Sloane Albright, hi— I— sorry, have we met?" she asks.

* * *

Do you know who wasn't alive in the 90s in her original timeline? Rachel Summers. Do you know who loves the 90s anyway? RACHEL FUCKIN' SUMMERS.

Rachel gets in through the bouncer a little late, but she's already coasting on goodwill because — shock of all shocks — people in Mutant Town are generally well disposed toward a famous mutant who rails against registration and has spent no fewer than two NYC invasions flying around rescuing people.

Rachel is wearing her hair differently, favoring shoulder length (how does it grow so fast?!) and parted slightly off center. She's wearing a metallic blue skater dress cut a bit above mid-thigh, along with semi-sheer black tights and black, zip-up industrial-chic boots that hit below the knee. Her makeup matches: heavy mascara, heavy black liner, heavy metallic blue eyeshadow.

This is a costume. Rachel does not care if no one recognizes it. 90s night is her element and she is brimming with power.

Rachel pushes in through the crowd around the doorway (there's always a crowd around the doorway), glancing down at her phone as she scans the place. She's not going to resort to crude psi-scanning tricks on a holy night like this. Eventually, she disappears her phone in a puff of flame and cups her hands around her mouth.


This will probably find Meggan. It will also probably alert everyone with Rachel Summers relationship tethers that she's here, but that's a side effect. Such unexpected results are the chaotic power of the Phoenix. Probably.

* * *

"OI RACHEL COME GET SHOTS" comes the counter-call of the wild Meggan, who perks up three entire mood steps.

* * *

"Heyyyyyyyyyyy." When Tony turns to look at her, this is what Kamala says. She also does finger-guns, weakly, because that's how she's feeling right now. This is huge fun and also just kind of amazingly overwhelming.

But soft! What teammates through yonder window break? "OH MY GOSH YOU GUYS YOU DID IT" Kamala calls, hopping up and down and up and down and waving at her Titan buds. "YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO BUT THANK YOU SO MUCH!" Because it is Loud in here. They are at the bar. There are shots at the bar. There is Rictor at the bar, and to Rictor, Kamala gives a wide and slightly nervous grin.

"… Shirley Temple?"


* * *

Psylocke doesn't have to see Rachel come in. She can feel it, inside her head. Purple hair shifts as she half turns to see the redhead coming in. She will check out the outfit, before a smirk forms, a nod and silent gentle nudge. Just a quiet little hello, while Betsy sips at her vodka.

* * *

"Mhmmm," is the sound Rictor makes to Owen's assertion that he's boy band chic. "Come back with a resume in the light of day and I'll see about putting you on the back-up list." And then he moves off with a shake of his head to start lining up more drinks. Just when he's starting to look particularly overwhelmed, a harried-looking Kiara dressed as a festive Mel B (with tiny Christmas lights wrapped in her cat ear hair buns) sidles up behind her boss and taps him on the shoulder. Rictor exhales a breath of relief and moves out from behind the bar to let her take over. Before he moves off, he murmurs, "Good answer," to Kamala, then nods to Kiara to make said drink.

Meanwhile, a contingent of drag queens enters. One has bubblegum pink hair and a dress that is not far off from what Psylocke is wearing. She gives the purple-haired lady a once over, then wiggles her neck, mouths 'bitch' in a way that could be considered complimentary or catty, then sashays off with her crew towards the nearest Santa-dressed lady slinging shots.

And as if on cue, the first notes of 'All I Want for Christmas is You' start to play. And the drag queens, though they're not performing officially, start to lipsync.

* * *

"AYYY!" Rachel shouts back. She starts pushing through the crowd. Tactical advantage to wearing 90s boots: easy crowd pushing, and you don't care what gross stuff is on the floor.

Along the trek, she feels the familiar nudge on the astral. Rachel chooses to make a detour to the right of a large knot of people instead of to the left, which takes her close enough to Betsy that she can hop up briefly above the crowd line and deliver the other woman a roguish grin along with a little telepathic ~ping~ of return.

Rachel nudges aside three different bearded men in flannel and jean jackets to break into the small clearing where Meggan is. She throws her arms wide.

"Happy 90smas, Meggan Puceanu. What did you ask Grunge Santa for?"

* * *

Dinah keeps Kamala warded in the circle of her arm. Short as she is, the blonde woman fearlessly rebuffs anyone who walks up to the younger heroine with anything like a 'how you doin' expression— not that the line itself is in short supply, with all the guys dressed as Joey.

Her head twists around when Meggan hails Rachel, and Dinah waves reflexively at the redhead. Because death before dishonor, and if Meggan's a friend of Kamala's then she's a friend of Dinah's, etc. ad infintium. When Rae arrives, a tequila shooter's offered to her (really almost pushed into her hands).

"Okay, tequila shooters," Dinah tells Meggan and Kamala. "Salt on the wrist," she says, licking her knuckles and adorning them with salt crystals. "Lime in the hand. You shoot" she demonstrates. "lick—" *myeeeh* "and bite the lime!"

Dinah winces at the bitter taste, but grins through it. "For some real fun, put the salt on someone other than the shooter," she advises, brows bobbing with wicked good humor.

* * *

"Technicly I didn't grab anything yet but sure! Asking now, grabbing drinks later. Peppermint vodka sure I'll try that because I'll try anything about once. Maybe twice if I remember it. Oh and he totally is a good bartender." This towards Rictor, about Owen. A pause. "Owen! You tried the peppermint stuff yet?" He calls over the heads of the crowd towards the Boyband Reject.

Because if anyone has it is him.

"Actually," He turns to lean one side against the bar. Half watching the crowd and half grinning towards Betsy. "They project hard light force shields if I feel like it, but yeah. They spin and do lights and music too. I multitask well." A pause. "And I thought models made themes?"

Of course there are other distractions around and a flash of a grin is shot towards Sloane. "Yup, of course I finished it. Its what I do. Omnidirectional speakers, focused sonic systems, you could possibily knock down walls with the right chords so don't aim it at anyone you don't like."

…of course he accidently weaponized a guitar.

"And good to see you too, Meggan right? Firebird's friend?" A pause. "And if right on cue. Of course Rachel wouldn't miss this for the world—" The Titans enter and Stark is once more distracted. "Oh my god, Fishnets is that you!"

A look back towards Rictor. "We are so going to need more booze."

* * *

There's a grin at Rachel, Betsy lifting her drink in a mock toast. There's no shrinking or hiding this time…progress, maybe? She will sip at vodka, before brows lift with interest at what Stark is saying. Then she smiles. "Well, we often make a scene, but we're not always in theme, I was…" She blinks at him, purple eyes curious. "I wouldn't have thought you'd be up on fashion models in catwalk shows. Interesting." There's a smile for him.

Her head turns, and there's a mocking laugh. "Captain Caveman! Are you…what's his name, Nick Carter?" She's greatly amused. There's a glance of violet eyes Tony's way. "I was never good with boy bands."

* * *

MEGGAN obligingly salts her wrist and then picks up a slice of the lime, at which point the salt falls off and she has to replace this. "Ohh-h," she tells Dinah, before pausing to beam at the wealthy man. "Yes that's me, listen I'm so sorry about your old little place, I hope the insurance or something - Rachel, look, it's Tony Stark!" She probably saw the Iron Manmas exhibit coming in. "And Betsy too. Small world!"

After this she downs the shot and executes on Dinah's entire order of operations. Her lips pucker, and she seems to be assessing the experience with thought. Her emotional readout is moderately hype but distracted (probably from focusing on this).

She then embraces Rachel with great force and pressure, despite still having the glass in her hand. Fortunately it's empty. "HelLO! Ummmm I don't know, I haven't even thought about that yet. Peace on Earth?" Rachel gets a peck on the cheek, and then she smiles, untangling without great haste.

"Tony made her a guitar," Meggan says, indicating Kamala. "Hi," she then says to Kamala, "I'm Meggan, this is Rachel - oh and you know," this to Dinah, "I don't think *we* met either, did we? Happy 90s-een."

NICO MINORU looks at Zatanna at the exact time that Tony calls her 'Fishnets.'

* * *


"I'm not doing cosplay," Tim Drake tells Zatanna in the confines of the Titans' new hideout. He injects the word with as much disdain as you'd expect from someone for whom the concept of costumes has a professional and indeed quasi-mystical importance. "I don't see why I should even dress up for it, it seems like a lot of work for nothing."


He's not cosplaying, at least, but the combined powers of big pale blue eyes going all Disney Princess and also a witch's ability to conjure up suitably throwback duds means that he is dressed up for it. Possibly whether he wants to or not. The jeans? Kinda baggy. The shirt? Plaid patterened and definitely a size or two too big, over a plain white t-shirt. But also? A vest that was never designed to be worn closed is over the flannel shirt. The verdict? 90210.

"I don't like anything about this," the mysterious young man says, his dark hair slicked back and possibly shellacked in place, what was wrong with that whole decade? He also has sunglasses on, and they are not getting removed for God or anyone. "Oh good, Stark is here. Ten bucks this bar burns down by the end of the night," Red Robin says to Zatanna Mars and Nico Lady.

* * *

"The guitar's for Sloane!" Kamala explains. This is after, however, she takes part in the tequila shooting. Except instead of tequila, she's wheedled a shot glass of tonic water, because it's basically the same thing. Salt. Lime. She does the whole thing in the right order and does her best not to laugh, too.

When Zee and Nico come close, they are going to have to suffer enormous hugs. It's part of the perils of being a friend of Kamala Khan. Tim, too. Poor Tim. If he doesn't get out of the way, Tim-athan Taylor Thomas is going to get a big hug from Usagi Tsukino.

* * *

"The peppermint vodka tastes exactly like you'd expect. A sorority girls mouth after she ate a box of candy canes." … I don't think that's what anyone would expect, except for maybe Owen, but he's comfortable generalizing. He makes a 'see' motion when Tony Stark himself vouches for him as a bartender, even though Owen can't remember actually serving Tony at Luke's. But they've drank together and that's close enough. Which reminds him he needs to talk about pie stabilizing stasis fields at some point. "Tony. Pie talk later!" He calls out, as if that means something which it may or may not.

"I…" He blinks at Psylocke as if trying to place her. Really the Captain Caveman name should prompt him, but it's Owen and he's been partying for a few days now. "Oh. Right. Psy… co? Something?" He extends a hand, "Owen. As much as I do love the idea of smashing things with a giant club, I.." he gets distracted by something in the crowd before returning his focus to her with a fake smile. "Sorry, were we talking about us making out? I lost track of what I was saying." Does that line ever work? Maybe not, but Owen is undeterred by poor past performance of many things.

* * *

Valerie sips her beer, just enjoying the atmosphere for now. Her phone vibrates, though, and she pulls it out of her bag to take a quiet look. "Ooh. Time to go." she says, putting a few dollars down on the counter before getting her coat on and heading out.

* * *

Rachel is immediately gifted with a tequila shooter. She reflexively downs it with a tilt of her head, and then only after looks at who handed it to her. "Well, hi to you too."

She hears her name on someone else's lips, and glances over to see who. The answer is obvious, with hindsight: STARK. Rachel narrows her eyes and puts on a small, thin smile that's more sly than friendly.

"Oh, hey, Tony. Slumming it?" she says, but she doesn't press more than a friendly jab because the man looks like he's got a swarm to manage. Besides, she's getting bearhugged by Rachel, which she returns with gleeful fullness. Meggan being slow on the withdraw means that Rachel has time to plant her own peck on the other woman's opposite cheek. It's very French, except not really.

Rachel tosses her shotglass toward the bar. It floats gently down to land serenely near the bartender's reach. Afterward, she puts her hands on her hips and surveys the gathered crowd.

"Hey," is her grand addition to Meggan's introductions. She does offer some initial counseling to Kamala: "He get you with a present too, huh? He never lets people live those down."

Rachel leans over to Meggan and shields her whisper to the other woman with a raised hand blocking view of her mouth. "I forgot Brian's sister is really, really hot. They don't look related!"

Rachel hesitates, straightening her poise and returning to her normal tone. "I mean, no offense. He's not my type."

* * *

"You're at a bar, Mr. Stark. We're quite well stocked for booze. What brings you to Mutant Town?" Rictor, now that he's out from behind the bar, can play host instead of booze slinger. He really does stand out in the all-black with so many people literally lit up (and getting lit) all around him. "I'm actually the club owner." He's really not trying to be interrogate-y. The club does get the occasional socialite, but not usually the faces of giant corporations.

The drag queens get hoots and hollers as they finish their impromptu lip sync routine. Then one in towering stilettos does a spin around the stripper pole that's wrapped like a candy cane. Mariah Carey transitions into Spice Girls, which naturally has Kiara singing along in perfect time as she lines up drinks.

* * *

It's a rough outline of the guitar — originally it was a joke, originally it was nothing serious, but he did it. He actually did it. Sloane cannot help but let her eyes get big and scale-backed fingers come to her mouth. "Oh my god I'm gonna have my own super-guitar," she says quietly — or at least, at normal speaking volume, but the party is starting to pick up around here.

Shooters? "Okay, but I—"

Salt the wrist, lime in the hand, lick— and then a big sharp canine pops right into the lime. Within a split-second Sloane's hand comes up over her mouth while it looks like she has to choke the shot down, lips curling in and pointing at the drink as though she were trying to give it the most stern explanation of everything ever.

"One day I've *gotta* figure out all the food and drink stuff," the scaled inhuman says, going for a sip of the cocktail once it gets to her.

'The guitar's for Sloane!' Kamala clarifies, and Sloane looks at Meggan and lifts her hand in the ever-classic, ever-awkward 'hi, that's me' way, and— *that is so fucking '90s*. "Hey Rachel!" the agent says, hiding lingering 'oh god the alcohol my tongue can't take' behind another sip of the cocktail.

* * *

"I thought it was Skylark?" Betsy will sass Owen, smirking with amusement even as it shows in her eyes. "Oh please. That line never works, and I've met your girlfriend, you might remember. And I've seen your tramp stamp. Sorry, honey, that's not likely. Now your Irish friend, maybe." She will flash that smile at Owen before she will tip back the rest of her vodka.

The drag queen's mouthed comment actually makes the purple haired mutant model blush, standing just a little straighter. If only she knew what Rachel was saying.

She glances at Tony, as she waits for a refill. "You're acquainted with Rachel? You must not be all bad."

* * *

Dinah's downing a second shooter almost immediately after the first, and she 'mmms!' with wide eyes at Meggan and Rachel, rmemebering her manners. "Oh, my god!" she says. "I am such a ditz," she says, projecting her voice a bit to be heard over the din. "I'm Dinah Lance. Kammie's a friend of mine," she says, giving Kamala a hug around the shoulders. "She wanted to hit the scene up and check out a party. Figured this might be her jam," Dinah explains.

She looks from Meggan to Rachel to Kamala, and rests her hands on the curve of her hips. "Well, shit, am I the *only* person who hasn't met Tony Stark?" she huffs. "It seems like he knows everyone. Why's he at a dive like this?" she asks, wiggling a finger at the bartender for another round of drinks at the edge of the bar they've co-opted. She clambers onto a stool with effortless balance, but sits on an ankle atop it rather than sitting properly. Short as she is, every bit of height helps in a crowd this size.

* * *

It might be the big blue eyes.

It could also be the short red skirt.

But Zatanna isn't complaining when Tim manages to extricate himself away from operations at the new hideout to hang out with a few members of his team. "Nico, I love the dress, is that really a character in the series? I knew I should've researched further," she says as they venture within. "And how did you manage to find this place anyway? Is it new? I've never been. Kam must've really wanted to come."

And speaking of, there is Sailor Moon, rushing over to give them a hug. "Kam, you look great!" the magician exclaims, arms thrown around her fellow Titan. "I brought reinforcements, though I think Nico just trashed us all in the cosplay game." She winks at her fellow goth. "And look who I even managed to peel out of the chair."

And when Kamala turns to hug Tim, Zatanna doesn't let him escape. She hip-checks him right into Ms. Marvel's arms.

Fishnets, is that you?

Zatanna cranes her neck immediately; not that she's the only one who makes it her business to wear them given every opportunity, but the voice is familiar too, and her lips part, faintly, in astonishment. "Hi, Tony!!" she calls out from across the bar, her voice carrying over the music. "I see rumors or your demise have been grossly exaggerated!!"

* * *

"Owen that line never works." A beatpause then. "Wait did you get meringue in the action again?!" Stark adds in the other man's direction with a laugh before he shrugs slight, eyes shifting toward Betsy. "Neither was I, not enough runway models to keep my attention." A flash of a grin then a laugh. "And look, I multitask real well. You would be supprised what always gets my attention. Besides, the hair isn't exactly common."

For Meggan he waves off the apology. "Eh already forgotten about, its fine. Its all Pepper's now anyway! I'm moving on! Big plans ya know! And once I figure out what they are I'll actually tell everyone else."

Tony is defiantly a fly by the seat of his pants in most things.

Rachel gets a grin and a wave. "You know me. I know all the worst people! Don't do anything I wouldn't do tonight!" He calls teasingly towards her. Since that leaves just about everything in the world open. Then back to Betsy. "Oh no, I'm terrible." He replies with a cheerful grin.

He is. Really.

Rictor's question though causes him to laugh. "What? I can't enjoy a night out on the town?" As proved in the last five minutes he knows half the notables here. "Having a near death experience helps a person appreciate the fun you can have in life. Most people get a change in religion, I apparently just get out and party more. So sue me…" A pause. "…wait no don't do that. Murdock would give me that /look/. HOW a blind man can just the most judging looks I don't even know but he can!"

But then the man of infinate energy is turning towards Dinah with a grin and a raised glass. Where he got the glass is hard to tell. "Well its easy enough to meet me, I'm right here! And yes, I'm Tony Stark." A pause. "Sloane! Why don't you introduce us then she won't be the only one to not."

Of course his name shouted gets his attention again. "Always! You kids can't get rid of me that easy! Who is gonna babysit Clawmy if I'm gone!"

* * *

NICO MINORU is given a firm embrace by Kamala. To whom she returns the hug with a firm squeeze that's more forearms than anything, and afterwards she says, "Stop embarrassing me MOM, this is why I went goth." Satisfied by this activity, Nico looks at Sloane. "You play?" Nico asks Sloane, before the hug train moves to its next stop at Red Robin Avenue and the intersection with Annataz Avenue.

MEGGAN meanwhile leans over and says, "Oh isn't she just," in a slightly too loud voice. "I remember being so jealous and I mean even now you just can't imitate the, the /carriage/, yeah? I mean look at that," she says, seeing Betsy straighten up - though she trails off with a thoughtful frown, probably 'feeling' the blush.

"He gets around," Meggan tells Dinah confidentally, re: Tony. She seems content to stand. "So what's with the lime then?"

BUT NICO says to Zee, in answer to her questions, "Yeah, it was when Rini went evil." She reaches up to feel-check one of her extensions. She then laughs at the praise, her face coloring slightly at it, before she asks Kamala, "So did you get here before?? I was gonna come to a show but it cancelled and I had to fix the social media sh- stuff so I guess now I got VIP access or something - KIARA HI," Nico calls, before telling Kamala, "I know her."

Nico is the one who ends up sidling up towards the bar, though at this point the quest for a stool must be in vain. "Do either of you want drinks??" Her voice lowers as she adds, "No bet," to Tim, even as Tony Stark turns his attention towards them-ish.

* * *

"It's — a little complicated! But basically absolutely my daughter." This Kamala says while giving Nico a big squoosh-hug. "Now sweetheart, make Mummy proud. And meet Sloane, Dinah… I got here a little while ago! Like… five minutes? Ten minutes? Hasn't been long. Sorry about the show! But this is pretty wild." Reasonably wild, anyway. Not the weirdest party to ever happen in Mutant Town, by FAR.

"I'll do the honors!" she adds. "Mister Stark, this is Dinah Lance; Dinah, this is Freddie Mercury."

* * *

There's a lock of purple hair twisted in between her fingers, glancing down at it before Betsy looks up at Tony's face. "That it isn't, not even these days. It works for me, though." The smile this time isn't designed for a camera, small and warm and sincere. "Betsy, is my name. Just in case you wanted to know." Then the smile gains size and brightness, sassy confidence all but projected.

"Owen over there forgot I met his slightly off center lady, and saw his completely unsexy tattoo. Those just aren't turn ons for me."

* * *

"Hey, Sloane, been awhile," says Rachel. She reaches out her hand to briefly touch Sloane's shoulder in greeting. They almost died a few times when they last teamed up, and Rachel gets comfortable with people fast. (Superficially, at least.) "Feeling better? I last saw you in a rough place."

"He's a real man of the people," Rachel explains to Dinah on the subject of Tony Stark. It's mostly true.

Rachel, sensing Meggan sensing Betsy, throws her arm around the blonde shapeshifter's shoulders and leans slightly in as she continues the conversation. The weird mingled connection they have usually means that Rachel's emotions can usually outpower everyone else's when it comes to what Meggan is picking up, and right now Rachel is feeling good. IT'S 90S NIGHT. WHO CAN BE SAD?

Also her dress is metallic pink now. It shifted over in a shimmer without much fanfare or comment. This is also a costume because it was that kind of music video.

"I like your carriage just fine, Megs. Anyway — the important thing about 90s night is karaoke. You've gotta have thick skin because the queens savage anyone who doesn't lipstick, though."

* * *

Though he uses his expert training to hide anything that could be construed as a reaction, there are two things that can be guaranteed about Red Robin: One, he absolutely knows what character Nico is dressed as, despite Zatanna's relative ignorance of a cartoon that ended before she was born. Two, he definitely knows the original Japanese names and dies a little inside when the dub ones are used.

It's fine though, it's fine. He'll never let on. No one must ever know.

Besides, he's preoccupied with getting half-shoved into Ms. Marvel's exuberant hug, which he responds to with a slightly awkward return hug and precisely two pats on the back.

Where he comes from, that's a lot.

* * *

Rictor looks…suspicious at Tony's assertion that he's just there for 'a night on the town.' Anyone coming to Mutant Town is making something of a political statement. Coming into a night club in Mutant Town is even more of one, even if unintended. However, the proprieter does look at least somewhat reassured that Tony doesn't have an agenda beyond making a spectacle of himself. And hey, this is a great place to do that.

As evidenced by the drag queen now doing some rather impressive pole work while wearing candy cane tights and while Salt N' Pepa sings about their weakness: men.

Kiara waves at Nico and gives her a big smile shakes a cocktail shaker before draining the contents into three iced glasses and garnishing with a candy cane.

Basically, the only person not smiling in the place is Rictor, who keeps looking around like he's expecting trouble.

* * *

"Well I guess I can just come with a string of continually degrading variations on what I remember of your metaname if you like. I guess." Owen answers after not getting an actual name in return. He frowns, not remembering introducing Harley and he would never say the word girlfriend … that's strange. But who knows, he was hammered. He scoffs, "First, of all my tattoo art is gorgeous. Second, I fully support a woman or man's right to advertise their loose morals with a lower back butterfly."

"Tony. That line works." Owen just gives Stark a look, which sure might be exaggerated but Owen's not exactly hitting on supermodels like Tony, so who knows what does or doesn't pull in the shallow end of the pool, well Owen does. however when the topic of being terrible comes up Owen asides, "Yea. As an expert on terrible, I'd agree with that."

"Betsy." Owen confirms the name before adding to Tony, "Betsy kicked my ass once already. I'm thinkin' if I keep drinking it's gonna be twice before I know it." And that doesn't stop him from stopping a shot girl to buy two more shots off of her, no not for Betsy.. or Tony, nope both for him. He downs them and hands back the 90s style test tubes they are being served in before she can even move on.

* * *

Oh look! Kamala's getting Hugs from Tim. "Oh, they grow up so fast," Dinah sighs to Rae and Meggan, clasping her hands and sighing happily. "One day you're teaching them shooters, the next—" She gestures soundlessly at Kamala. And she's about to show Meggan what to do with the lime, and then Tony is introducing herself and Dinah puts on her most charming expression. It's got a certain girl-next-door quality to it, though that's likely small beans compared to Psylocke's effortless British charm and regal manners. "Dinah, it's a pleasure, Mister Stark," she tells him, a dimple appearing near her smile. "Nice of a big shot like you to come down to this part of town. You make a habit of hitting midtown bars, or is this some special occassion?" she inquires, golden brows hiking minutely.

* * *


"I'll have a vodka-soda," Zatanna calls back to Nico when she asks for drinks. "And maybe a coke for our fearless leader here." The point of her elbow nudges Tim's side lightly, flashing him a grin. After their last real conversation, the contrast is staggering - gone are the puffy eyes and the overall miserable state of being, her expression as incandescent as a supernova. Lowering her voice, she tilts her head to deposit a few quiet words in his ear.

"Isn't this great?" Not really Red Robin's scene, but she has been doing her best, lately, to bond with her teammates, even if it is in a venue where they have to yell at one another or invade their personal spaces for them to be heard. "Come on, it's holiday season. I bet the Manor isn't as exuberant as this, better get in while you can before you have to show up at home."

To Tony, pointing in his direction with a candy apple-red fingernail: "I'm gonna hold you to that, Stark!"

* * *

"Well— you know most of … everyone, I think, Tony?" Sloane squints, then glances to Kamala, then toward Dinah. "Oh, this is— um. This is Kamala's friend!"

She's good at this, honest — and then the rest of the Sailor Scouts and friends arrive. Her head turns away, with a whole lot of conversation happening at once.

Sloane grins at Rachel, letting her expression soften up a little, not even flinching at the hand on her shoulder. The last time they talked was over coffee in a trashed safehouse. Her hand was still a mess after having to repeatedly punch demons in the face. "Of course. Work keeps me busy," she replies, reaching out to give the redhead a light tap on the arm. "… really busy," she murmurs into the rim of her glass, eyebrows lifted and trying to hide the sigh.

She's bad at hiding the thought of it: Back to back work, and more work, and more work…

"I'm doing better. And Tony's giving me a crazy-ass guitar."

* * *

"I could kick your ass again, if you really want to be humiliated in public again. I won't even chip my nail polish." Betsy says to Owen with a smile. "Truth is, you didn't know my real name until just now. It was what the hell is a Psylock, Tri-delt, Skylark… But if you promise to stop screwing up the name, you can call me Betsy." She will sip at her refilled vodka on ice, eyes wandering around. Stark, Rachel, Meggan (even if Betsy doesn't feel that she knows her as well as she should).. She will watch Owen down both those shots, smirking into her glass.

* * *

NICO says, "He does kinda look like him," as Kamala Names who Tony is trying to be.

MEGGAN gets snuggled up and her head presses against Rachel's as she is given the warm comforting emotional embrace of Rachel. Her head tilts forwards and she giggles then. It's an easy thing and it sits well on her face. "Ooo," she says, "is that HYPERcolor you have on Miss Rachel, if I pinch it is it going to turn plue? Or blink?" ("though that'd be purple wouldn't it")

"We could go up there," Meggan tells Rachel. "We could do it blind or something. I know I wanted to do Paradise when we went to that place in Brighton but I couldn't find it. And we didn't have those ladies, but -" Her cheeks puff and she straightens up, "I'll take it all if it's for the nineties!"

"BETSY," Meggan calls. "YER DRAFTED!" She raises a hand up above the crowd to point over towards the Song Zone.

NICO meanwhile tells Kiara with complete and total confidence, "Okay a vodka and soda, a white Russian aaaand a Manhattan." Silently she prays that Kamala won't narc her out.

This is kind of nice, Nico thinks. I don't have to be in charge here. Mostly. To Sloane, she asks, "Is it like, an Iron Guitar or something?"

* * *

"Betsy, with a last name that starts with the same letter and also the letter of the country you happen to be from. I love concidence!" Stark replies brims with laughter as he looks back towards the woman in question. "And I do like to know names of pretty women that happen to be flying close to my orbit. And the orbit of /other/ people I know. Since you're apparently Rachel's friend." A smirk again though as he glances towards Owen. "But unsexy tattoo. How can you say that? I mean look at that face, how can it have an unsexy tattoo."

A pause.

"Don't show it to me I haven't had enough to drink yet."

"I am extremely nice I'll have you know Dinah," A smirk towards Kamala as well. "And I am totally fine with being introduced like that. Means I have stage presence." Back to Dinah and he laughs. "I hit up any bar, I am not bar prejudiced! What kind of genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist do you think I am?" He surely is into making a spectacle of himself.

But at least he looks recovered.

"I'm sure you will!" This towards Fishnets, er, Zee. "He likes to chase the Gremlins!"

Yeah. He's talking about a new drone type. Not…actual gremlins. Really. He isn't. BELIEVE HIM PLEASE.

A quirk of an eyebrow again towards Betsy, especially when he hears that name of Psylocke and he smirks just slightly. Of course then Meggan happens and he laughs. "It seems you are needed!" He says as he gestures towards Rachel and Meggan there before glancing back towards Rictor. "So! If I buy a round for the whole club does that mean you stop giving me the side-eye?"

…he did say he was a massive terrible.

* * *

"No, but I might crack a smile," says Rictor to Tony. Then one of his staff comes up to him. He frowns and heads towards the back. Always something. Or at least, it seems to be. He hasn't been the boss for very long, but the host's job is making sure everyone else is having a good time.

By now, the evening is in full swing. The dance floor is packed. And then, there's the sound of jingle bells and a dance mix of Here Comes Santa Claus starts to play. From the stage area, a buff hipster with a natural beard that looks like it's been sprayed white emerges. He's shirtless and wearing Santa pants. He's carrying a sack full of small presents that he starts to hand out. They're small boxes of chocolates or gourmet candy canes. A few select boxes have a pass to come back another night at a VIP table for six. One of the drag queens picks one of the winning boxes straight away and does a little hoot of excitement.

* * *

Psylocke turns her head, lined violet eyes wide as Meggan bellows her name. "Drafted? For what?" The drag queens are over there! A cat fight might break out! But she will toss back the rest of her vodka gamely, looking at Tony. "Maybe if you're lucky, later I'll show you my hidden tattoo." She will smirk, chin lifting. "Maybe it starts with a B, too."

She laughs as she pushes away from the bar, to head for Meggan and Rachel, giving them a curious look. "What exactly am I being drafted for? No one wants to hear me sing, you two." Psylocke, nervous about karaoke? Perhaps. She only sings in the shower.

* * *

("It would be purple,") Rachel advises Meggan.

But then, the magic of the 90s night begins to suffuse Meggan. Rachel presses her lips thin to hide her otherwise pleased expression. That Meggan ropes Betsy into things is unexpected, but welcome. Yes. The cosmos desires this timeline.

"Hey Rictor! KARAOKE OVERRIDE!" she calls out over the bar, invoking the ancient pact between regulars and staff. Rachel claps her hands together. "Betsy! You've been called up! You gotta show the yanks how to carry a tune!"

FUN FACT: Rachel Summers is officially a citizen of the United Kingdom and not of the United States. Nevermind the accent.

She glances toward Sloane, raising up a finger while grinning to communicate the idea: one moment, conversation delayed by hijinks.

* * *

"Did you guys have birthdays without telling me?" Red Robin wonders when Zatanna responds to Nico's question about drinks. Because he's pretty sure they're underaged. And that law enforcement would definitely not give even the faintest whiff of the benefit of the doubt to a mutant-run establishment in the current political climate. Unfortunately, by this point Nico has already absconded to get the drinks. Where Zatanna's smile is incadescent, the currently 90s disguised vigilante's mouth turns down in a frown. Soon enough, though, he lets it go with a sigh so quiet even Zatanna can barely hear it, as close as she is.

"I'm having fun," he tells the witch, though there's a lack of obvious evidence of that. "I mean, how many Christmas parties have a shirtless Santa? And before you ask no we're not getting Nightwing to do that at our Christmas party."

* * *

"Hey, don't worry about it!" Sailor Kamala reaches out to Betsy and gives her shoulder a quick squeeze. "Karaoke's not about being great at singing. It's about having fun. Come on!"

And then she's grabbing Zatanna's hand and slipping through the crowd, drinks-less (well, except for the Shirley Temple), toward the karaoke station. "I don't know if they have the one I want…" But apparently she's going to be joining in, too. NO ONE CAN WITHSTAND THE FUN VORTEX.

* * *

"Promises, promises," Tony singsongs at Betsy before smirking. "Alright you people! Drinks are on Stark for the next two minutes!" He calls as he raises his voice. "Lets see if y'all can break the record!"

* * *

"I'm sorry I can't actually promise to call you Betsy. It's a thing. Bad habit. Nicknames."

He shrugs it off and then takes a side step towards Sloane and asks, "What is this I'm hearing about a weaponized guitar? Because.. that's awesome." He extends a hand, "I'm Owen. I blow shit up at Stark's." Yes, that's the technical term for it. "I'd love to put it through it's paces with you." And even though he couldn't not burst in to talk about weaponizing non-weapon things, he tries to remain on the outskirts of that group. Closer to the bar.

His attention snaps back with laser focus when Betsy mentions her tattoo though. "What?! Please tell me you have a super slutty butterfly tattoo." And then to Tony, "Wait? You've never seen my ass tattoo? Really? … huh. Good for me for keepin' my pants on at the tower I guess. I mean, a little surprising but probably for the best."

Owen can hear Tim crushing everyone's hopes for a good time despite being on the far side of the group and his eye roll is nearly audible. He starts to say something and gets as far as "Oh fer fuc.." before clamping his mouth shut and turning back to the bar, and finishing his double of whiskey.

* * *

Dinah offers Sloane a squeeze of fingers in greeting. "I'm so sorry, it was so crazy!" she apologizes. "I'm Dinah, I'm friends with Kammie," she explains to the scaled woman. "I love your outfit by the way!"

Her attention returns to Tony's vague self-deprecation, and she rests an elbow on the bar to smile sunnily up at him. Easier, now, 'cause Betsy just got shanghai'd to go sing karaoke. "Well don't get me wrong, it's nice of you to come down here," she tells him. "I guess I don't know you very well. But if you're going to pick up the next round, I guess I could take a few minutes," she says.

But one eye remains cocked protectively Kamala's way, even as she scampers off to dig through the karaoke binder.

* * *

Psylocke will cast a look over her shoulder. "Stark, it's not a promise, it's a threat!" She will laugh, even as she's ignoring the growing knot in her middle. There's a shake of her head at Owen. "Do I really strike you as the sort of woman to have a super slutty anything?" There is a toss of thick purple hair, before she is giving Rachel and Meggan a long look. "So what are we humiliating me publicly with?"

* * *

"I want to hear you sing," Meggan tells Betsy, "and Rachel's right, we have to do this. It's a matter of honour now." You can hear the additional U.

She is about to say something else when Owen speaks within her hearing. Meggan's head swivels hard enough to make her hair bounce and she tells him, "D'you mind?" in a tone that comes through clenched teeth.

NICO returns with hands full of drinks, though she does mutter to Zee as she does, "I think she did 'em weak, not my fault," while delivering it over. Tim mentions something about shirtless men, which temporarily distracts Nico into headswivelling to catch sight of this. There it is, with the singing.

* * *

Betsy has been called up to … THE SONG ZONE.

Her eyebrows lift, looking between Meggan and Rachel with mild amusement falling onto her face, letting her shoulders rise and fall with a shrug. Hijinx? No complaints there.

"It's not … I mean *weaponized* is not — strong—" the SHIELD agent says, squinting after a moment at Owen. It's the Disapproving Stare, but if anything, the 'lite' edition. She knows him, right? It's not just the buzzing in the inhuman's head from the drinks that she's been having? Regardless, she takes the hand to give a shake. Curiously, her scale-backed hands feel a degree or so cooler than the average…

Her attention snaps again to Dinah, following suit with more handshaking. "Ohhh, okay! Kamala's a friend, too."

And then Sloane swivels, following Rachel and Meggan's antics to watch with rapt interest.

* * *

"Shhhhhh," Zatanna says, pressing a finger on the disguised vigilante's lips. "If anyone asks, it's a double birthday celebration with uh…Nico and me." She reaches out to take the vodka soda whenever the Dark Lady returns to their collective, frowning faintly when she says that the bartender made them weak. She taps her finger on her glass to make it less so, and reaches over to do the same for the Dark Lady.

Though when Tim expresses that he is, indeed, having fun: "I'm glad you are, even though…I can't really tell."

How many Christmas parties have a shirtless Santa?

Her lips part, but when he anticipates what she's about to ask, she pouts, and snaps her fingers. Taking a solid gulp of her drink, she grins at him impishly. "Fine, we won't ask him. But what about you, Crossfit?" An old, two-year old injoke. "Are you willing to be our shirtless Santa this year?"

Unfortunately, or perhaps luckily, before the magician can get a response from the Titans leader, she's snagged by the hand, and dragged away by Kamala towards the Mysterious Karaoke Machine. "Uh, where are we…I'll be back! Nico, make sure he doesn't start stripping without me!"


* * *


The Girl of Thunder gently massages the shoulders of Scott Adsit, Agent of SHIELD. These days the poor man has been assigned to make sure that Atli doesn't get out of hand, a job that once belonged to Phil Coulson. And now that the Son of Coul has returned from his vacation in Valhalla, it is likely he will have the job again. But for now, at this fine hour, Scott Adsit, a man who is certainly not Phil Coulson, has the responsibility. And boy, does he look nervous. "How.. how about this one?"

Atli leans in over the man to peer at his electronic device, and her brows lift. "Nine Zero. Very well, I suppose for Midgard, that is about the highest quality spirit one can expect. Excellent work, Scott Adsit. Now, please do mind the goat. He recently had his heart broken when he realized he could not in fact be adopted by Cake Woman."


Atli is not even fashionably late, nor is she really fashionable. Her cloak could be cleaner, that's for sure, and she's still wearing flip flops. Or rather, mis-matched flip flops now. Entering Shakedown with her flask tilted back, she is indeed already catching up, and as she beams a smile at the various festivities take her into their wake, she meanders towards the bar with a childlike glee at those who are clearly here to celebrate their love of the 90's. Something Atli doesn't pick up on at all.

Then, it happens.


Cupping her hands and shouting across the the way, Atli points at her scaled friend with a mad gleam in her eyes. At about the same time, Sloane will receive a priority one text from one Scott Adsit, Agent of SHIELD: OMG I'VE LOST HER AGAIN.

* * *

Rachel waves her hands dismissively. "No, no, no public humiliation! This is a celebration of 90smas. There's no shame allowed during 90smas. Look, let's get you away from Captain Boomerang negging you over there and get you on stage where you can strut. You used to model, right? You're gonna be fine!"

FUN FACT #2: Rachel does not actually know that Owen's codename is literally Captain Boomerang.

Rachel spreads her hands to shoo Meggan and Betsy toward the stage, where she commandeers the karaoke machine. She knows all the buttons already for mysterious reasons that no one should think very hard about. While she selects, she removes the microphones and hands one off to Meggan, and then one off to Betsy.

"So I'm thinking something gentle, in one key, and kinda sultry but not too much, you know? And everyone knows the chorus because it was a top 40."

Rachel Summers, the woman incapable of wearing anything longer than a miniskirt, judging anything too sultry is a real laugh.

The redhead adjusts the machine so that the screen is facing the stage properly, and then turns to beam at Meggan and Psylocke.

* * *

"It sure didn't sound like a threat!" Stark shoots back towards Betsy's retreating back even as the drinks start to flow. A smirk crosses his face as he looks towards Owen. "And if you didn't I've totally blocked it out. With bleach and whiskey the best combo." A look towards Dinah though as amusement dances in his eyes.

"You realize she works for me right?" A nod towards Kamala's very enthuastic looking though songs as he snatches a drink. "Don't know me very well though? Come on now. I'm an open book. Avenger, Iron Man, billionaire." A flashed of a wicked grin. "And it totally is nice of me, but its entirely selfish. I get to see all these people I know without someone trying to kill any of us." A pause. "Well unless you count all of us trying to murder our livers." A longer pause as he downs a shot of peppermint vodka. "Owen! You were right about what this tastes like!"

* * *

A pause.

"…of course I offer to buy a round and the Asgardian shows up!"

* * *

Owen slowly turns to Meggan, having no idea what he's said that was offensive, as is so often the case with Owen. In his lexicon 'super slutty' is basically a compliment. He frowns at Pyslocke as she asks if he thinks anything about her could meet such a high standard and he replies, "Hey a man can always hope."

He does a small blink double take back to Sloane though and asks, "Do I know you? I feel like I recognize that look of judging on yer face." He thinks about it, "But I get that a lot." His musings on disappointed looks get interrupted by sudden Asgard.

He turns back and sees the woman again from the other night. "You!" He calls out, not actually loud enough for her to hear likely about the noise, but then Owen's leaning through the crowd looking to see if, ya know, just by chance, that cake girl is in tow. Because she has his jacket. Yea. That's why.

* * *

MEGGAN giggles as she's drawn up into the Song Zone. She lets Rachel pick out the song, watching the screen with interest and twirling the microphone once just for sheer delight as she says, "Yeah, right, good choice!" She settles down a bit after that, rocking on her heels and taking in a deep breath…

As the backing track comes on.

It is everything that Rachel describes. Meggan pivots towards Betsy as she sings towards her - if maybe not quite at her. Her eyes stay half lidded because this one she knows by heart. Her singing voice is ill-trained but enthusiastic, and improves almost palpably between bars.

"Dear, I fear we're facing a problem; You love me no longer, I know and Maybe there is nothing that I can do, To make you do
"Mama tells me I shouldn't bother, That I ought just to stick to another man, A man that surely deserves me - But I think you do

Her voice rises in intensity as she falls out of singing: "so I 'cry', and I ''pray'', and I '''beg'''—"


NICO meanwhile says, "Totes," and takes a swig as she does. Her lips purse for a moment as she swallows. "Got it," she tells Zatanna with a nod, and then looks at Tim, admitting to him in a quiet conversational tone, "I have no idea what I'm doing right now."

* * *

Sloane is oddly content to watch from the mild distance while Rachel sets about helping get the Karaoke Challenge put together, leaving her to her devices with owen, Dinah, and Tony. Finishing the cocktail, she sets the glass down on the bar and flashes a quick 'one more' signal— at least until Tony is declaring he's going to buy a round for the bar. "Weren't you in Stark Tower during … I think…? Hm. It might've been—"


Every psychic in the room can hear the one surface thought on the mind of a buzzed Sloane Albright: Fuck.

Sloane's head slowly ratchets around to turn toward the Asgardian burst into the bar, then looking down at her phone as it starts to frantically buzz.

She texts back in reply:

* * *

this is my first night out in 6 weeks adsit i swear to god
forget it she's here
i have her

* * *

"I don't care about anything but youuuuuu." Psylocke has had just enough vodka to stop giving a damn, singing along with Meggan and even dancing a fair bit. There's a trace of laughter, violet eyes lighting up as the mutant model loosens up a bit for the first time in days.

* * *

"And my roommate, Barbara Gordon," Dinah tells Tony. "And it seems like a few other friends of mine. Are you just out to hire the entirety of Gotham, or just everyone in my social circle?"

She flags down the bartender for another drink— tequila sunrise, never mix your liquors, kids— and focuses back on Tony. One advantage of flirting with the billionaire is that it forms a little protective shell preventing the usual barflies from making a pass at Dinah.

"Hey, Sloane, is that a… friend of yours?" Dinah asks the other woman, keying to the concern written on her features. Atli sure knows how to make an entrance, whether or not she intended to. Short of kicking the doors open or showing up to a personal soundtrack, anyway. Dinah's foot bobs in the air as the girls get into the song and a smile crosses her delicate features as they start loosening up and really belting it out.

* * *

Rachel steps back to let her handiwork unwind. She knows Meggan is good for a number, but how will the mysterious Lady Braddock fare?!

Turns out she can carry a tune. Rachel cups her hands around her mouth and cheers. The crowd needs someone leading the way if they're gonna get hyped up.

Rachel drifts back enough to where she's in Sloane's orbit again. She offers the other woman an apologetic smile as she nears conversational range.

"Hey, sorry. Had to work my evil plot to get to know my coworker's sister."

A shadow of sincerity dims Rachel's effervescent expression. She steps in closer so that she can use a lower tone.

"Look, Sloane, I know you're helping people and everything… but don't feel pressured to work for a government that doesn't respect you. You can help people as a civilian, too, and fight back against the other stuff at the same time. You know there's a place waiting for you, right?"

* * *

Would he be a shirtless Santa?

The world may never know, because that's when Zatanna gets dragged off by Ms. Marvel into what may well be Karaoke Hell.

Under the circumstances it might be for the best.

He looks down at his own drink, which fortunately Zatanna didn't use her phenomenal cosmic powers to make boozier, presumably, but it's not clear if he actually means to drink it. Instead, he looks to Nico, who confides that she has no idea what she's doing.

"Me neither, but Zatanna seems happy," the vigilante answers her. And that might just be the crux of the matter, in the end: Seems. "Plus, hey, Stark bought everyone's drinks and then an Asgardian showed up, so that's pretty funny."

* * *

Both fists go to the sky when Sloane turns to look at her, and though Owen does search for his pants-partner (not that they were pants), unfortunately Cake Woman is not in tow. Atli makes her way right on over to Sloane, reaching up to clasp a hand on her shoulder and give her a re-assuring squeeze. "Now that we, warriors of absent parents are joined for merry revels, we shall conquer the night, until at least one of us forgets our name!"

Atli sounds entirely serious, and then waves over the bartender. Somehow, some way, she has actual, factual money. It could be she traded for it, and spreads it out along the bar liberally, even after Lord Stark announces he is buying. Her gaze goes distant for a moment. "Verily, I now know why some bug people consider him a God."

Of course, Atli will smile ever so politely at Dinah, and then reach out for whatever counts for bar pretzels or whatnot as she looks all about, and then the music starts and Atli does stare at it all with grand fascination. "Look! That wall seems to predict their words, and paints them as a tapestry as they sing. We don't even have mind reading walls on Asgard, at least, that I know of. You humans are so very ridiculous!"

Somewhere around that time, Rachel enters the Sloane Orbit again, and Atli's face goes almost blank. Her pretzels fall out of her hand, and she gives a casual-not-casual lean against the bar. "Lady Flamefeather! I.. do not recall how I last left you, but I seem to remember a grand escape from insurmountable danger, and so it must have been glorious."

Indeed, Atli doesn't remember anything from that night after jumping on her goat and preparing to make a break for it.

* * *

…oh God the Asgardian is here. Atli. Impossible to miss. Like that time they were in Genosha together —

And then Kamala's eyes go WIDE and she stares at Dinah, quickly drawing her thumb across her throat. One white-booted foot kicks the actual-blonde in the ankle sharply but not hard: "Di. Babs isn't actually going first-name-last-name on this one." She leans closer in: "He knows me. But he DOESN'T know Babs's whole life story."

And to cover it over: "Heyyyyy, Atli! Long time no see." Especially since last time they saw each other, Kamala was in costume and didn't have eight feet of blonde hair. It's a subtle change.

Their two song choices are programmed in now, though, and it's time to WOO for the singers!

* * *

Owen settles down and orders a beer from the bar, maybe slowing down shots is a good idea right now. That will probably last about half this beer. He manages to not react when he overhears Dinah telling Tony who her roommate is. The worst he does is let his eyes slide over to Tim for a fraction of a second, before focusing back on his beer. He then realizes who is actually singing right now and yells out, "Woo!" and lifts his beer in appreciation of the women's effort.

At Rachel's conversation with Sloane, he takes a step back from her not wanting to lean in on what sounds like a more personal conversation than talking about using guitars to blow stuff up. But then Atli is there talking about drinking until they forget there names and Owen can't help but chime in. "Hells yea! That sounds like a party I want part of." He adds, "With or without dancing cake ladies."

* * *

Now there is a wicked smile in his eyes as he looks towards Dinah. "Oh really? And here I thought the person I hired lately was a brilliant AI programmer I knew as Oracle." He drawls as he looks over towards the singers. "Barbara Gordon then? The daughter of the Gotham police chief? Man, strange how things like that happen to work out!" He snatches a second shot of vodka and knocks it back even as the girls start getting into the music.

A grin though. "And naw, I hire lots of people! You just happen to travel in good circles." A pause. "Or bad circles. Since we have confirmed I'm a terrible person."

A glance over at the door. "ATLI! DON'T BREAK THE CLUB!"

But really that is the only comment he gives on that, the open bar is still open. For the next minute at least.

* * *

Betsy wrinkles her nose at Meggan at the end of the song, but she's laughing and clearly not nearly as humiliated as she feared. Maybe it was the drag queens lip synching along in the edge of her vision, or just.. being surrounded by people who don't know or don't care who she is, what she is, or where she's been. She will set the microphone down and take Meggan's arm. "Drinks!"

* * *

Pushing the phone back into the pocket of her denim skirt, Sloane lifts her hand a little at Dinah. "It's — yes. She's a friend. It's just complicated, because she's not from around here. She's — uh—" she says, at least a split-second before Tony is helling about Asgardians. "… Yeah, so, she's an Asgardian. And parties. And — goat? Goat…"

Using a stool to boost her height up a little bit, she waves an arm in the air to get the Asgardian's attention— also to check to make sure she hasn't tried to bring a goat into a nightclub and that … would not be the strangest thing to happen in her life.

Easing back down, Rachel returns. Sloane pulls a thumb over her shoulder. "That's fine, I've — got company chasin' me down in a sec anyway," she says.

Rachel moves closer, and speaks in a lower tone— and her slit eyes shift forward, then tilts down, shifting the fresh glass in her hand and frowning a little bit. "I know. … I…" She breathes a sigh, collecting her thoughts before firing a glance the psychic's way. "I'm trying to work with them, petition them from the inside. I know I can get people to listen." The drink clinks a bit. "If I can get the higher-ups to listen, that's a lot of momentum turned our way."

"I— still. Thank you, Rach. I'm glad," Sloane says, reaching out to put a hand on her wrist.

Atli arrives. "Hey, Atli." And then— *and then*—

Sloane looks straight at Rachel and leans her head on her hand, the smirk on her face huge and lopsided and a slight flash of teeth at one corner.

"Lady. Flamefeather."

* * *

"Anytime," says Rachel. She grasps Sloane by the wrist in turn, giving her a fragile but genuine smile as she locks gazes. "Just don't let them keep your wheels spinning forever with promises, alright?"


Rachel's eyes go wide. She leans to the side to look over Sloane's shoulder. Oh no. Asgardians.

"Hhheyyy, Atli." Rachel shoots a look at Sloane but chooses not to fight this battle right now. "I'm glad you're doing alright. I think I lost track of you when the goat dragged you off."

* * *

Psylocke will do her particular brand of strut/sashay to the bar, for another drink. She'll tell the bartender to surprise her, flashing a bright smile. That natural flush matches the smile, as she turns to watch everyone doing their thing. There's the asgardian girl from the fight night and Luke's, Rachel, Meggan lingering over there somewhere, the woman Rachel is talking to, there's Stark feeling generous and Stark-y,… Sailor Moons getting ready to go sing..

* * *

She is going to have to let Barbara know just what happened. Argh. And they were having so much fun. Well! They're STILL going to have fun and Kamala can just think about dealing with identity crises later.

As one song ends, just on cue, another one is starting! It'll push things like names and such out of everybody's brains as Sailors Moon and Mars position themselves in front of the video screen.

"All right, girl; we're back again!"
"Hi, hi! We're your weather girls, and have WE GOT NEWS FOR YOU."
"Tell them, girl!"

This is about the moment the drag queens catch on. God bless them, they're great on cue and look to be providing fantastic back-up-singer roles.

"Get ready, all you lonely girls, and leave those umbrellas at home."

That's when the actual singing starts:

"Humidity's rising… barometer's gettin' low…
According to all sources, the street's the place to go!
Tonight for the first time, justt about half past ten
For the first time in history… IT'S GONNA START RAINING MEN!"

* * *

"Shit," Dinah growls, under her breath. Way to go, Dinah. Out Barbara's secret identity over a few drinks with Tony. He starts to turn away to pay attention to something else, and her hand rests on his. To anyone nearby it'd just look like she's getting his attention, or maybe even flirting with him.

She puts a thumbnail against Tony's median nerve in his wrist and pushes. Just enough to get his attention. "Maybe it'd be best if we all forgot I said anything," she says, Very Pointedly. The fingertips resting on his hand are definitely stronger than they look, with subtle but well-earned calluses.

Dinah's tone goes from cheerful blonde party girl to something very hard-edged for just a moment, then disappears behind another beaming smile for the billionaire before she slips to her feet. She almost loses some height standing up as she dismounts the barstool. "'scuse me, I'm gonna flag down a refill on my drink," she tells Tony, and skips away towards the other end of the bar.

* * *

"Why do I feel like I should be taking my clothes off right now?" Owen wonders aloud. Drunken flashback to Ladies Night perhaps?

* * *

Meggan is practically sparkling as she gets off the stage, laughing along with Betsy. "ABSOLUTELY. I am dehydrated as hell, I want a pint. They have pints here, right?" she says, as

NICO says to Tim, with a faint smile, "Yeah?" She takes another sip from her manhattan with less grimacing. "You guys are cute," she continues, before she blinks slowly, turns her head, and says: "Oh, I know her!" How? She doesn't specify, instead drifting towards Atli while telling Tim, "You'll love her, c'mon."

That's highly speculative.

"ATLI I AM SUPER RIDICULOUS" Nico calls, before getting nearer by. She looks past Atli at Rachel, nods once, and then says to the Asgardian: "So let me ask you, in your experience, HAS it ever, in fact, rained men."

("It's Nico," she adds, realizing belatedly that she has Chibi Moon Hair at the moment, uncertain, perhaps, how compelling the costume will be to one born of the fair realm of Asgard)

* * *

Enter Franklin Percy Nelson.

He heard it was 90s Night. He doesn't care where, he doesn't care when, he doesn't care how. He's going to be there, and damnit, no one better not fucking ask him for legal advice or he's going to going to activate his dormant X-Gene and become something absolutely terrifying… like a golden retriever gone rabid.

He got out his best ugly Christmas sweater that just so happened to also be totally 90s themed. What's on it? A beautiful fair-isle style pattern of The Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers, complete with lovely serif block letters that clearly state that yes, it is indeed MORPHIN' TIME. Complete that with his slacks, brown shoes, dress shirt and the hint of a bright red tie, and Foggy Nelson is ready for the Jingle Mingle.

* * *

"Oh, do not worry Lord Stark," Atli calls, one hand near her mouth. "This bar looks quite sturdy, even if I were to dance on it I doubt it would break!"

To Owen she gives a glorious thumbs up, her enthusiasm only matches by that smile and her already rosy cheeks. Taking the round ordered by Stark from the bar, she downs her shot and slides the glass back towards the bartender. "I require much, much more, dear friend!" This, she calls to the bartender, and then she gives a wave to Kamala with that brilliant grin of hers serving as a back drop. At Rachel's reply she smooths out her vester and gets a slightly distant look in her eyes, as if trying desperately to remember. "Yes.. yes I seem to remember .. something like that. But, was their a wading pond of some sort? I distinctly remember landing in some water somewhere. Hmm. Yes, well. A perfect end to the perfect night. And you know my friend, Sloane Brightscale, Child of Wehrsweir, my adopted… sister?" She says that with an odd sort of upturn to the word, and then shrugs. "She is one of my closest friends, you see. Once, I used her scale oil to fix the squeaking in Steven Rogers chair. After that day, when the Shieldmaiden of Midgard slid his glorious glutes along that fine leather, not a sound was made!" While Atli tells her tale of defeating the squeaks in Captain America's chair with SLOANES SCALE OIL there is a sudden Nico.

Atli squints, perhaps deceived momentarily by the costume, and then she grabs Nico up in a most glorious hug. It does not last forever, setting her down again as she ponders her question. "Well, I have seen it rain demonic bats. One time, it rained elves. I do not recall it ever raining men. Which is unfortunate. And do not worry about being ridiculous. You are human! It is your defining trait. Embrace it, much like my good friend Sloane has."

An arm goes around Sloane then, and, of course, she cannot help but cast another glance at Rachel to see if her story impressed.

* * *

And that last sentence appears to be some sort of trigger. The drag queens hired by the venue go wild, performing a choreographed dance number in the background. Zatanna Zatara in her sailor get up gets right in there with Kamala, mic in hand, belting out the chorus of the Weather Girls classic.

"It's raining men, hallelujah, it's raining men, amen
I'm gonna go out to run and let myself get— "

And here, she and Kamala sing together: "Absolutely soaking wet!"

"It's raining men, hallelujah
It's raining men, every specimen
Tall, blonde, dark and lean
Rough and tough and strong and mean…"

"God bless.

And this is what is waiting for Foggy Nelson as one of his clients makes an absolute spectacle of herself with a friend, drink in hand, microphone in the other.

…and this is pretty much what happens in the entire three minutes and thirty-one seconds, her arm around Kamala's shoulders, legs doing high-kicks in time with the beat. One stiletto accidentally flies off the magician's foot, a scarlet missile rocketing into the crowd.

* * *

There is a smirk towards Betsy from the billionaire. "Look at that, all that time on stage and you don't even look slightly wounded. Came though /unscathed/." He downs the vodka in his shot before reaching for a third one, smiling slightly at Rachel and Sloane's interactions but saying nothing of it as he glances round the bar. The 'Lady Flamehair' though causes a slwo grin to grow as he turns those eyes on Rachel.

He will be remembering that he will.

In fact he was about to comment on it when Dinah's hand slips over his. Now to most people it would indeed look like he's being flirted at but he feels the pressure against his wrist. A quirked eyebrow as she leans in. A few intimate whispers before Dinah smiles and gets up, beaming to find herself a new drink.

Stark though smiles as well even as she strolls off, leaving him fairly along at the bar. "Well." A pause as he sips his next glass of vodka. "Isn't /that/ interesting." A longer pause. "JARVIS? Scan and tag. Just for later. Seems that my new hires keep entertaining company."

And just in case someone decides to erase his memory at the party. Or he drinks too much. Both have been known to happen.

But then Atli is talking and Stark's grin breaks out again as he laughs. "Atli, I /never/ want to here anything about Steve's ass again. Please."

* * *

Psylocke reaches out, without thinking it through. That red stiletto missile with freeze in mid-flight, and head back to settle harmlessly on the edge of the stage. Of course, no one can prove she did it, after all. Violet eyes will turn to look at Tony, smirking. "I've spent enough time on stages of varying sizes to carry myself through. Stiff British pride, and all of that." She will sip at her strong, fruity and blue-green mystery drink. "So, what do you do when you're not buying the whole bar a round and being unsubtle in such a suit?"

* * *

"Of course."

Lady. Flamefeather.

She does not even look away from Rachel while Rachel starts talking to Atli, just relishing the moment with a bit of a shit-eating grin.

Shifting her drink in her hand, she does *finally* turn her attention to the Asgardian, she's got the look on her face that shows her night has turned to something magical and hilarious, secure and confident in the knowledge that nothing could ever change how she feels right n—

— Sloane Brightscale.
Child of Wehrsweir.
soaked up scale oil

Sloane does not shy away from the arm thrown around her by Atli, but she does shift her free hand to quickly pound down the rest of her cocktail before setting the glass carefully back down on the bar.

* * *

Rachel nods at Nico when Nico comes over. Game knows game.

But Rachel's expression goes blank as Atli launches into her story. It segues from topic to topic without ceasing, traveling from the relevant — how Atli survived the shakedown, how Atli knows Sloane — to the peculiar. Peculiar involves scale oil and Captain America's star-spangled butt.

Rachel looks askance to Atli, then to Sloane, then to Sloane's scales, then Atli's arm around Sloane's shoulders, and then to Atli.

"You get up to some stuff, don't you," she says, carefully weighing the words. She can't really judge. Excalibur doesn't make sense ninety percent of the time either.

When Sloane looks back from turning away briefly to grab and pound her cocktail, Rachel has stolen her tremendous grin and added the phenomenal power of fingerguns.

"Nice job saving Cap's ass, Brightscale."

* * *

One of the very finest songs of… all right, it was the eighties, but it had to happen… one of the finest songs EVER WRITTEN has been performed by two young women who. Well. They don't sing quite like the Weather Girls, but who does? It's also very likely the most risque thing Kamala has ever done in her life, shy of that one fanfic with —

Ahem. Anyway.

As luck would have it, the next song is about to start, and Kamala calls out: "Rachel! You have to join us on this one!" And any nineties kid — or kid born perhaps a little past the nineties — is going to recognize the opening chords to one of the finest songs Disney ever put out.

* * *

"Well, that's happening," Red Robin says, as Zatanna and Kamala enjoy themselves with the necessary lack of self-consciousness that the dark god Karaoke demands. He can't help but grin a little, a grin so faint that it might require advanced equipment to detect - one he doesn't even realise he's letting slip - before he hears what Nico has to say.

You guys are cute.

"Huh?" the vigilante wonders, brows furrowing behind his concealing (and somehow not obstructing to him) sunglasses. "Well we've been friends for a while, it's a funny story about how she was tied up in an abandoned tannery by this serial killer who wanted to sacrifice her to a demon…" It's a funny story where he comes from anyway. Gotham is kinda weird.

"Yeah, I've met her before," Red Robin adds on the topic of Atli. "It was kind of a hectic day, though."

* * *

Foggy Nelson's eyes flit across the room, and are drawn immediately toward the stage. He stops, he stares, and then he casually drops his forehead directly into his palm with a heavy sigh.

He sighs externally. He sighs internally. And at the sight of Tony Stark, he sighs eternally.

He starts toward Stark, gravitating toward the billionaire because he figures that his legal advice is going to be needed at some point, and dear god please let it be about blood-alcohol content.

* * *

Kamala calls from the stage. Rachel glances over her shoulder, and then reiterates the fingerguns with a gesture. "Looks like I'm needed. Life of a superhero is never quiet and all that!"

The redhead turns and pushes off the ground, sailing over the crowd to land lightly upon the stage.

"Hey," she says, already smiling. The energy of the evening is buoyant. "What are we singing?"

Rachel glances to the lyrics screen as the first notes start up. "Whaaat? I didn't even think to look for Disney."

She holds out her hand. Another mic snaps up from its cradle and flies to her palm.

* * *

Atli starts talking and Nico sips her drink again, giving Sloane a glance as she is declared to be the child of… Where's Where? Nico, at least, doesn't quite get it. Her brow furrows slightly as she rewinds the tape or what Atli said but she can't think too much about it because

HUG! Nico huffs afterwards, landing a little unsteadily. "Well aren't there like male elfs," she says to Atli. "— Hah! Totally."

"Man, you run into a lot of demons," she says to Red Robin.

Nico sips her drink and frowns at the implication.

Until it begins.

THAT song. Nico looks up at the stage with surprise.

MEGGAN, meanwhile, slides into the spatial gap freed up by Rachel being summoned forth by Sailor Kamala. "What was that about oil?" she asks Sloane.

* * *

"Well I continue to be unsubtle in suits, though usually with micro-munitions and repulsor beams. I think my most unsubtle suit is the size of a skyscraper. Because sometimes…" A smirk from Stark is angled towards Betsy. "…you /really/ have to punch a dragon in the jaw." A slow nod. "It is a moral imperative."

A shrug though. "Otherwise? I build. And cause promblems…so many problems. Which is why I have great lawyers. Like /this/ guy!" And he claps a hand on Foggy's shoulder as the poor put upon man angles over in his direction. "Speaking of! I'm totally not lible if I buy the house another round and someone does something crazy right?"

* * *

What are they singing from Disney? Zatanna waves in a friendly fashion towards Rachel as she joins her and Kamala on stage. The familiar notes fill the club. She starts them off this time as she belts out, in a surprisingly decent singing voice (she is an entertainer after all):

"Let's get down to business, to defeat the Huns
Did they send me daughters, when I asked for sons?"

She points at the crowd.

"You're the saddest bunch I ever met!
But you can bet before we're through…"

And together with friends old and new on stage:

"Mister, I'll make a man out of you!"

This is when she realizes that she's missing a shoe and tries to find it, but does not succeed. It is nowhere on stage. But she does find it somewhere in the crowd, left like a glinting scarlet beacon in the darkness. She'll have to get it later, but she is definitely going to have to retrieve it. It's a Manolo Blahnik, damn it. Nobody better steal it!

* * *

"… Tony, I'm not on the clock right now," Foggy says, his voice a bit reproachful and tired. Then he looks at the billionaire, and he actually feels a small smile twitch at the corners of his mouth. He tries to stabilize the look, a serious edge creeping into his mouth despite the slight glint in his eyes. "As your lawyer, I say that you are not at all liable as long as you also make sure everyone gets a cab home." There. Good advice. Nicely done, Nelson. Oh, the girls are singing again —

Then he hears Mulan, and the Nelson half of Nelson and Murdock shouts out in total, brutal instinct: "BISEXUALITY, REPRESENT!"

* * *

"YEAH!" Rachel immediately roars back from the stage, with the benefit of a mic.

* * *

The second Rachel says it, Sloane's face scrunches, hand balled into a little fist that taps on the bar before pointing back at her. Even with the shiny blue scales, her face still pretty red, before pointing at her a second time, trying to come up with something solid as a comeback — instead, she falls back on the first thing she thinks of:

"Fight me."

More fingerguns, and the other redhead is off to the stage, the SHIELD agent watching her go. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she lets out a small laugh and shakes her head. "Adsit was already texting me, Atli. Did you sneak out on him?"

And then, Meggan. Again, she pinches the bridge of her nose, letting out a small laugh. "It's a long story, Meggan, I swear. … Do you know Atli? Atli's an Asgardian."


Sloane rests her chin on her hand again, leaning on the bar and just watching.

* * *

Psylocke laughs, cheering along with Rachel in the respresentation. She will glance at Tony afterwards, smirking up at him. "The size of a skyscraper? That must be something to behold. A moral imperative, indeed." The smirk shifts into a grin. "Well, if sometime you want to have a potentially trouble making evening, I'm sure you can find me."

* * *

"YE" Nico begins before dying of embarrassment and also nearly spilling her drink onto Red Robin.

* * *

Modesty is not a family trait in her line, and so when she gives a bit of a shrug with that grin plastered all over her face, it looks entirely absurd and fake. She also looks entirely to pleased with herself, apparently having impressed the Lady Flamefeather. "Yes, well. Sometimes stuff simply comes flying at your face, you see. And you have to be hero enough to catch it. Just like I caught Sloane, when her fearsome mother, Wehrsweir, abandoned her here. Well,"

Atli brings a finger to her mouth, tapping at her lips once. "I suppose it was more like we slaughtered her, and sent her back to the fabled land of Boston. But that is nothing compared to your adventures, Lady Flamefeather, for I understand you have slaughtered countless armies and vast empires wh-" But of course Rachel makes her exist while Atli is rambling on, and it doesn't seem to put a damper on her spirit. She leans in to Sloane a bit, and offers her scaled friend her bottle. "Verily, Sloane, I think my story made an impression. Adsit? What? No, no, he is watching the goat." Excited as she sounds, it is also guarded. Hopeful?

"Hmm? What? Oh yes. Well, with elves it is hard to tell, you see. The men look quite like the women. I didn't exactly get a good look at all of their various, scattered body parts when they hit the ground, and so, the mystery persists." To Tim she gives a beaming smile, and a bit of a wave. "Hello there new friend! Will you join us all, in seven or eight rounds of drinks?"

Atli, of course, does not recognize Tim at all as anything but Nico-Friend.

The song begins, and Atli zones everything out, watching the mind-reading wall as the performance begins. Oh, what a treat, not one but three sirens, and Atli simply basks in the glory of it all, for how many have heard the Phoenix actually sing and lived to tell about?!

* * *

Dinah's digging in her cleavage for her phone, which prompts more than a few surprised looks from people as she heads to a quieter corner of the bar. There's a flurrying few moments as she pensively fires off texts to Babs, fingers flying over the screen.

A gentleman comes up and tries to initiate conversation, and Dinah stops him cold with a stiffarm to the chest without even bothering to look up from her screen. Girl's strong.

Finally, she heaves a sign and tucks her phone back out into her bathing suit, absently making sure she's halfway decent in the leggings and red lycra. She starts weaving through the crowd, dodging the other patrons while making her way towards Sloane and Rachel and the others. At the bellowing cry from Foggy, she cups her hands to her mouth and joins the hooting. "REPRESEEEEEENT!" she cries out, her voice easily cutting through the din of noise.

* * *


It's epic, though.

Kamala's singing voice isn't bad either — she's no performer like Zatanna, but neither is she entirely tone-deaf. Still, she's doing more of the speak-singing thing because it just ends up being easier.

"Tranquil as a forest, but on FIRE! Within!
Once you find your center, you are sure to win!"

Her face curls into incredibly theatrical disgust as she finishes the verse:

"You're a spineless, pale, pathetic lot, and you haven't got a clue!
Somehow I'll… make a man… out of YOU!"

That's when everyone gets that brief image of what Kamala would look like as a villain. Or just if she ever got really mad.

* * *

Psylocke will finish her last drink, and will give Rachel the equivalent of a mental hip bump, and Meggan will feel that empathic measure like a hug. She'll push her hair back as she glances towards the door. "Well, Mister Stark, it's been interesting. Don't work your lawyers too hard." There's a grin there, before she'll head on for the door, waving and the like to appropriate parties.

* * *

Rachel counts the verses down in her head. Verse 1, 2, chorus, verse 3. The chorus belongs to everyone by right of blood, which means verse 3 is hers. She runs it over in her head. The first word is… time?!

You win this round, cosmic coincidence.

Rachel holds her mic at an easy ready in her left hand. It might be misconstrued as drunken courage, but one shot of tequila is not Rachel's price. Perhaps Rachel is simply a woman brimming with confidence in all situations.

FUN FACT #3: Rachel spent a year in Mojoworld as an interdimensional multimedia superstar after Spiral convinced her to sign away her life while she was delusional from massive blood loss due to being stabbed in the heart. It wasn't a great year.

The song rolls to the third verse, and Rachel brings the mic to near her lips, eyes half-lidding. Expert eyes may notice her studied technique. Others may just find her husky singing voice pleasant. She's definitely the kind of lady who plays the trouser roles.

"Time is racing toward us, till the Huns arrive! Heed my every order and you might survive!"

Rachel opens her eyes wide as she leans forward into the snarl of the next lyrics, physically looming almost halfway off the stage and over the crowd.

"You're unsuited for the RAGE OF WAR —"

Sparks explode at the back of the stage, heralding a wall of heatless fire that waves with an energetic lash as if blown by winds. When did this place get pyrotechnics?!

(The same time it got a karaoke machine.)

"— so pack up, go home, you're through! How could I " Rachel staggers back onto the stage and away from the crowd, tilting her head back and holding the mic above her as she croons: " make a man out of yoooou!"

The chorus pounds on. It's hard to avoid audience participation in an old-school Disney banger like this. The flames in the background swirl in time, flowing through themselves like a river, spinning tumultuously like a typhoon, bursting upward like the inferno it is, and dimming to allow the disco ball above the stage to shine brighter.

When it's all over, the flames die down without incident. Rachel is a scamp.

* * *

"I always do," Stark replies with a smirk. "Always. And as for causing trouble later? Well I am always up for trouble." The billionaire replies airily as he looks back to his drink, seemingly already forgetting about Dinah's threat from earlier as he smirks at Foggy. "Great! That is totally what I was hoping." A pause. "You're a good man Foggy…" A pause. "…what the heck are you wearing anyway?" A longer pause. "You know. It doesn't matter."

* * *

"Ah, I'm gonna have to pass," is the vigilante's response to Atli's very Asgardian invitation. "I'm the designated driver."

See, it's funny, because he's the only one of the Titans who came that is also old enough to drive in the first place. It's Red Robin's favourite kind of joke: Dry, and it really only makes sense to him.

People are definitely into the performance, with its unexpected pyrotechnics, but he's a bit distracted by Nico almost spilling her drink on him; those ninja reflexes bring his hand up to steady the witch's drink, though he can't do the same for her embarrassment.

He can only work so many miracles.

* * *

"No one suggested that you cause trouble later, Tony." DID THEY? Foggy was too busy sighing to hear it if someone did. "Please, Man… don't cause trouble later. Because you know who I have to call right?" There's that tone… he's giving Tony a serious look.

We all know who Foggy would have to call right? Starts with a 'P,' ends in a 'Epper.' And you know who she's going to blame? Starts with an 'F,' ends in an 'Oggy.'

"You better get me a double of whiskey on the rocks fast." Beat. "And it's the fucking Power Rangers, Stark. Get with it, Nerd."

Someone is feeling sassy. Activate 'Rabid Golden Retriever.'

* * *

"We must be swift as the coursing river — "
"With all the force of a great typhoon
"With all the strength of a raging fire"
"Mysterious as… the dark side of… THE MOON!"

Appropriately enough, at least on one of those choruses, Kamala withdraws her Moon Scepter and raises it high above her head in proper Magical Girl Posture. Legs apart Wonder Woman-style, microphone trained toward her mouth, hair whipping up as if a sudden wind had caught it (it's part of her shapeshifting control, or Rachel's Phoenix-telekinesis, or something, but let it go).

The chorus repeats again, and this time it's just about the whole bar singing it loudly enough to rattle the windows. Best. Night. Ever.

* * *

The set ends with drunken cheers and noisy revelry - basically what holiday parties ought to be, and Zatanna lifts her hand to high-five the ladies she shares the stage with. "Worth it," she says breathlessly with a laugh. "I'm Zee, by the way." The last to the redhead she doesn't know.

The magician lingers long enough to get Rachel's name, if she deigns to make an introduction, plucking the stiletto that Betsy helpfully TK'd back on stage. Her costume whole once again, she's assisted off the platform by a couple of the drag queens, whom she also shares a few high-fives with, before trotting back over to where Nico and Tim are. Her face is flushed from all the singing and dancing. Eyes lit like burning stars, she looks, at the very least, like she's having the time of her life.

Though she looks somewhat disappointed when she finds Red Robin not having somehow transformed into a shirtless santa in the six minutes she's been gone. "Oh, come on," she groans. But it's good-natured ribbing. She didn't really expect it. To Nico and Atli, she grins at them both - and she's probably not helping her fellow goth witch's assumptions when she tugs on Tim's arm.

"I'm stealing him for a few minutes," she tells them both. "I want to see if I can get him to dance like a Backstreet Boy."

And with that, she'll tug their fearless leader to the dance floor.

* * *

"Woo-OO!" Dinah calls, applauding with the rest of the bar as Kamala brings the house down (figuratively). The pyrotechnics don't seem to bother her one bit, and she hops up and down gleefully at the fantastic impromptu light show.

"Tony! Hey, Tony!" She leans across the table, around Foggy, and beckons for Tony's attention. Her hand lays across the table, palm up, and she gives him a pointed lift of her brows. "Gimme your hand!"

"Don't worry, I ain't gonna hurt you," she assures him, laughing at the idea. "I gotta write something down. Please?" she asks, trying to make her blue eyes a little more pleadingly vulnerable.

* * *

There is a moment there where the light from the stage turns Atli's features almost demonic, wreathing her unending smile in flame and putting a dancing flame in her eyes. Her hands reach out, as if to steady herself, one on Sloane, the other one Tim, grasping their shoulders maybe just a little to hard. The crowd sings along and becomes alive with music that stirs the soul, because it is more than a song. It is a battle cry, speaking of war, and unfit soldiers, and a valiant attempt to make them into proper men. And as the crowd sings along, she only wishes she knew the words!


Atli even points at them, and begins singing along, thankfully releasing bot Tim and Sloane to clap along and join in the revels.

Finally, Zatanna steals away Tim and Atli calls out. "Verily, make a man out of him!"

Giddy is the only way to describe the Girl of Thunder. Between songs powered by Cosmic Poultry Pyrotechnics and meeting T H E D A Z Z L E R the other night, it's a wonder she doesn't have some sort of seizure.

* * *

Sloane says nothing while Atli tells the tale again; she's heard it a dozen times and somehow the whole thing has started to grow on her a little bit. The bottle offered, the scaled inhuman lifts her hand and shakes her head. "Thanks. I don't wanna get too far gone."

She's dreading the spotlight being turned on /her/.

Looking toward Dinah as she too calls out, she doesn't have long — her attention jumps back and forth from the stage to Atli, to Meggan.

Sloane can't help herself: Not just singing along when it becomes time for the house to jump in on the chorusOH GOD ATLI CRUSHERGRIPS YOUR HANDSbut letting that trained musician's ear start picking through those notes, even letting her eyes closed as she's focusing on the music.

"They're good."

And of course, she does clap at the end — and stick her pinky fingers in her mouth to aid with a sharp whistle at the pyrotechnics display! — and also watching Zee try to drag Tim down to the dance floor.

* * *

"Rachel," she says to Zee, still grinning from the energy. "Rachel Summers."

But time on the stage is fleeting, and after sharing high fives and so on with her fellow cast, Rachel disappears back into the crowd to let others have a try. She makes a line to catch up with Meggan, Sloane, and Atli. She rests her hand on Meggan's shoulder as she leans in.

"Hey, I'm gonna go down the street and get some food before coming back. Anyone want to come with?"

* * *

"She's a bit like fireworks that don't stop going off, isn't she?" Meggan tells Sloane, finishing off her pint in a long lingering pull before plonking the glass on the bar to add to the indebture of Tony Stark - ha ha! They could never drink enough liquor to bite that roll.

When Rachel comes up near, Meggan leans over and in. The plan is set. The scheme declared. "Sounds brilliant," she says, nodding emphatically once to Atli, with whom, despite all, she feels a certain sort of kinship. It's probably the stories. Or perhaps…

As for Nico, she got a stool at long last. Unfortunately, she doesn't manage to get a second drink. It does not take long for her to doom herself and her ambitions for this glorious hypercolor night by *getting out her phone*.

* * *

"That. Was. AMAZING." A breathless Kamala squeezes Zee's shoulder and… well, and now she reaches a hand out to the girl they shared the stage with. "Rachel, I'm Kamala. We don't. Really. Know each other? But you had to be up there, that's all. Thanks!"

And now she's descending as well, heading in the same direction as Rachel, just a few steps behind.

"Good to see you again, Thorsdottir! Sloane, heyyyy. I'm not even /drinking/ and I feel… almost like I'm drunk except without the horrible queasiness."

* * *

Unfortunately: Atli has what you might call an extremely strong grip.

Fortunately: Thanks to his extracurricular activities, Red Robin is pretty used to people almost breaking his bones.

It's even more fortunate that Zatanna shows up, and if the vigilante was in any way embarrassed at the idea of going onto the dance floor with the witch right now it would be thoroughly offset by the promise of escape. Even the Asgardian's called encouragement doesn't ruin it.

It comes close, though.

"You guys seemed like you were enjoying yourselves up there," he says to Zatanna as she tugs him along. Though whether she's going to get any suitably boy band-y dances out of him remains to be seen. "Gonna start a band to supplement your stage career? I'm pretty sure Nico plays bass or something, judging by the calluses on her fingers…"

Tim, no, stop making deductions about people, it's weird.

* * *

There is a smirk at the show, Stark seeming to relax a bit as the others enjoy themselves. Drinking and making a spectacle of himself seem to be exactly what he came here for. To see and to be seen…and boy was he seen. You might can see that holodisplay from space.

The call of his name though causes a browraise though before he shrugs slightly. "Sure kid," He drawls out before sliding his hand across said table. Palm up. "Do your worst." He drawls as if in a challenge.

He doesn't believe that blue eyed innocent look for a second anymore but hey. He's never one to back down from putting his various limbs in danger.

* * *

"Ha, yes, exactly like fireworks! Wonderful, unending, world obliterating fireworks!"

A beat. Fireworks?

"I don't know what that is!"

An arm goes around Sloane's shoulders again, and she gives her a shake. "Very well! Then I shall drink for the both of us." By the time Rachel returns to the their little circle, Atli already has a bottle in each hand. The question from Rachel draws her expression into something almost serious, maybe even sobering. Meggan's look does not go unnoticed, and what can she do but smile in return, for it's what she always does when she has absolutely no idea what something means.

It makes her look absurdly happy most of the time. In reality, she is often just absurdly confused.

But that's alright, because Lady Flamefeather is gathering a band for a new, grand adventure. Atli has the most important ingredient already, more spirit. "Lead on, Lady Flamefeather. Let us eat, and drink, and challenge the sun to dare interrupt our evening of revels! Ah, yes, Goodbye!" This last bit she says to Kamala. And then.

As they turn to make their leave, Atli spies a man running towards her. SCOTT ADSIT, AGENT OF SHIELD.

"Scott Adsit! Yes, good. I believe they were asking for you up there."

Scott Adsit simply stares, and then Atli pushes him towards the stage. Of course he has no idea what is going on, but hey, it would keep the Asgardian here, right? Right?! He peers out over the crowd, and nervously picks up the mic. Of course, it's Boyz II Men's 'I'll Make Love To You', a perfect song for Scott Adsit, Agent of Shield to bring the house down with.

And man, his voice is smooth.

* * *

Dinah picks up a pen, uncaps it with her teeth, and starts writing on the back of Tony's hand. Full number, with a Gotham area code. "I kinda screwed the pooch tonight, my … friend was gonna explain the situation later this week. Call her, okay?" she tells Tony, and gives the fresh digits a gentle pat, before releasing his hand. "Just … don't blame her for it, it's all my screwup."

She catches Kamala leaving out the corner of her eye, and whistles to get the younger girl's attentin. "Kam!" Dinah's voice cuts across the bar easily enough, and she makes a tappy motion in her palm while making an exaggerated mouth around 'text me!', before flashing the exultant Sailor Marvel a beaming, dimpled grin of approval.

* * *

"… Yeah, she is…"

And *dear lord* Atli can drink. Every time the inhuman forgets, Atli is able to remind her with absolute clarity. With the song ending and the crowd shifting about, she spins on the stool before getting an arm all the way around her and — getting dragged right along with Atli.

"Singing's a great feeling," Sloane replies, though the sound of her voice is a little more weighty than that — that look in her eye, the hang of the words. There's a *story* there.

"Adsit, I—"

Atli pushes him toward the stage. Pushed, dragged right along, she throws a wave at Scott before he's sent right up and she's led right to the door with the others, grabbing her coat on the way to the door. "I guess I'm coming along too!"

Sloane's eyes narrow, brow creasing. "I mean if that's alright. I don't wanna — you know what I'm coming. I could use something to eat."

* * *

Big smiles! Smiles, EVERYONE, smiles!

Kamala sees the gesture and nods, thumbs ups, and roots around in her bag to find her phone.

Dinah's in troooouuuuble…

Sailor Marvel is heading out the door as well, though. All that singing and drinking of non-alcoholic beverages is making her crave some fresh air and maybe some really, really terrible street food. But she texts Dinah regardless:

you are maybe the worst chaperone but I think it's all good
TS is cool, he won't abuse his knowledge

* * *

"I've been trying to make it up to everyone," Zatanna confesses to Tim as she drags him towards the dance floor, dark as it is and occasionally lit with the strobe lights that come standard issue for every bar in New York City. "It's pretty unusual for me to go this long without really getting to know people that I spend a lot of time with anyway. I feel like I've been subsisting on pizza this entire week since Conner and Bart really like the stuff, and this is the first time I've ever dressed up and hung out with Nico and Kamala outside of HQ. It's…nice." The admission is almost embarrassed. "With everything that's been going on, I've almost forgotten that I'm….well. Not even thirty yet." She flashes him a sheepish grin. "Too young to be a homebody and chronic Netflixer. Besides, you know me, I'm pretty nocturnal."

When they reach the floor, she turns to face him and the mood changes considerably when Atli shoves her SHIELD babysitter up on stage and he picks Boyz II Men of all the other bands he could have picked from the nineties. She stares Scottsward in disbelief, her expression indescribable, watching her Backstreet dreams crumble to pieces.

"…um. Well, there goes that plan."

The dark is helpful, at least, in hiding her expression, unless Tim is cheating (which, let's face it, he's been known to do all the time). But she lifts up her arms and rests them on one shoulder and the other clasped in his grip in proper slow dance posture.

And it won't be awkward at all later once they realize Nico's melted in the crowd, and Kamala left without them.

* * *

Dinah leaves and Stark sighs as he looks at the number on his hand. "JARVIS. Record and save. This is going to be an intresting conversation." A shake of his head again before he downs the rest of the drink and almost flippantly pays his tab. Then he stretches and grins…

And throws an arm around Foggy's shoulders.

"Come on, Foggy!" He says cheerfully as he starts to drag his poor lawyer out. "Lets go be responsible chaperones for all those ladies!"

Which means Tony can cause more trouble and Foggy can try to be responsible.

…it is good to be Tony Stark.

* * *

Dinah's sitting there looking around as everyone takes off, and she blinks, once. She's sitting there *alone*? "What the fuck?" Dinah mutters, and slams back her shot glass before vaulting off the barstool and chasing after the others. She pauses only to grab her jacket and shrug into it.

"Hey, wait up! We doing iHop, or what?" she calls, her short legs hustling to catch up to Tony, Foggy, and the rest of the pack.

* * *

"HEY! FISHNETS!" Comes Stark's shout as he turns back towards the party at the door. "iHOP! Last one there pays for everyone!"

Are they really going to iHop? Tony has no idea. But he's drunk, it sounds good, and he has no idea where Rachel is actually going. SO HE'S GOING WITH IT.

* * *

I've been trying to make it up to everyone.

It's hard to tell what Red Robin's expression is as Zatanna makes her quiet admissions, given that it's dark and he's wearing sunglasses. But he does let out a little chuff of amusement when the witch, almost bashfully, says that it's 'nice' to get out with other members of the Titans like this. Not even thirty yet, she calls herself.

"Not by a decade, Zatanna. C'mon, you're barely even twenty. This is why you needed friends your own age, so you don't think of yourself as being the same age as Doctor Foster, or Miss Jones. Hanging out with old people ages you," the vigilante confides, jokingly.

And then they get caught on the dance floor during a (surprisingly skillfully) crooned awkward middle school dance classic.

If Zatanna had wanted to bail on it, well, he certainly wouldn't blame her: Instead, though, she goes right for the slow dance posture.

While Tony Stark shouts about iHop.

"You wanna go?" he wonders.

* * *

"Yeah? No wonder you decided to reboot the Titans. I'm pretty sure you were doing the same thing," Zatanna retorts, but she flashes her best friend a smile. "Hell, I thought you were forty when we met."

She's not serious. She's definitely ribbing him. The grin says it all.

Until Tony yells at them to go to iHOP. There's a glance at the billionaire's direction, before flashing him a thumbs-up from Tim's shoulder.

You wanna go?

"In a bit. Did I ever tell you I never got to go to prom?"

After a pause:

"Besides, I don't mind splurging for late night pancakes, and it could be worse. We could have brought Bart with us."

* * *

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