Starring:
Summary: Alyssa McAlister throws a Pirate Rave on Talk Like a Pirate Day. Lots of people attend, and Desiree walks the plank. Somehow, the other DJ's name is Dave Jones. Hey, it works! LOOK OUT, THERE'S A NINJA. AND LOOK, MOAR PIRATES.
Date It Happened: 19 SEPTEMBER 2007
Talk Like a Pirate Rave
Warehouse Somewhere in NYC
When the doors open, there's only a sliver of daylight left outside. Already the peacocks of New York's street scene are there, lined up (it only pays to be fashionably late if you're not paying the door fee, right?) - and they start in to the sound of a pirate singing hip-hop, Captain Dan lamenting about all his Mateys, Dead and Gone.
The bass rolls out in the street, as the security guys - a couple of seniors from NYU in pirate garb - check IDs and usher people in.
Not that they're checking /closely/ - but they are checking.
Once inside, the room opens into vaulted space with lights already at play, alcohol on one side and tables on the other. And yes, everybody's talkin' like a pirate.
"Arrrr!" And just inside, an expansive fellow stands, legs at shoulder width, arms held wide, and.. beard on fire. Well, with tallow in it. "Welcome mateys, aboard the Mary Celeste!" It'd probably come off better if that weren't a brooklyn accent.
—-
She's only here to work. There will be no shenanigans on Erin's part, because if anyone finds out she's even here, she could get in some serious trouble. It's not that being somewhere like this is bad normally, it's just that people tend to take the worst pictures at the worst possible times, and she doesn't want to end up on the front page of Variety with an enormous beer on her hands. Whether she's a star or not, the headlines will soon read that she's in rehab for her drinking problem and that her career is falling apart and—
So she's completely hidden from the world, wrapped in black from head to toe, Erin is a ninja. And because this is a pirate-themed party, she also has a do-rag on her head, as well as an eye patch. A ninja pirate. The one blue eye that's still visible is definitely feminine, even if the black outfit she's wearing hides that a little. There's no white clothing on her at all - nothing to glow. Hopefully it stays that way.
—-
It's strange, but at the same time, it's interesting. The noise level just rises once Mikhail somehow miraculously passes the ID checks and gets inside the place. Overwhelming, but interesting. He said nothing about meeting anyone here, but he figures there will be a few familiar people there. Of course, one has to wonder why he's decided to take a break from slaving away at his artwork for one night.
Blame his curiosity. And the shiny glowsticks.
He fixes the now-glowing bandanna under the fancy hat he wears, his dark clothing blending in with the scene. If it weren't for the trim, he'd be a definite pirate ninja.
Wait a minute. This description…it is pointless. Oh well. He's probably going to hang around on the side, anyway. With his head bobbing to the beats.
—-
Displaying an ID which shows her to be nearly twenty-six, Jane steps into the warehouse, complete with pirate garb, weapons which may or may not be real, and highland bagpipes. She places hands on hips after being cleared by the security studens, and continues on. An air of being hostile is affected, she scans the people already here as if she were a pirate aboard ship about to take on and capture another. Confidence shows in her gait; for Jane Forrest it's a simple case of applying stagecraft, and this is by far not the most outlandish thing she's ever worn. She once did Jessica Rabbit opposite… well, she prefers not to think about that too much. The ninja and the man in glowing bandana are studied for a moment, then she moves on. There's a DJ to find and drinks to be had.
—-
The music makes smooth transition from hiphop to a techno 'yo ho' sampled from the Pirates of the Caribbean films - not bad, and obviously local work given the cheer that comes up from the NYU bunch already headed to the dance floor. If anything, the music gets /louder/.
Smokeybeard goes on to welcome other folks - one lean woman with a very, very fake glowing goatee goes to press a glowstick on Erin, "Here!" It takes a bit of volume to be heard.
Mikhael gets his quota of instant admirers - hey, /goth pirate, people/. There's a lot of big eyes and fishnets in evidence - and many offers of glowy, sticklike objects in a multitude of colors.
As for Jane? Hunting the DJ doesn't do much good, just yet - but she definitely gets a few ogles from the guys playing security up by the stage. And at least one proposition of a most improper nature involving skirts, bagpipes, and upstairs. But he's polite at least!
—-
Whoa, what. He's getting attention for being…oh yeah. Hello, dandy goth pirate. Too bad he doesn't have an eyepatch to lessen the effect of those admirers. He'd like two if possible, but that will do wonders for his sense of sight.
Chains clink whenever he stops, taking up some more glowsticks and glow things along the way. Oh hey - these are free, right? Mikhail will be sad if they aren't, but living in the moment with glowing things makes him feel like a kid again.
—-
She glowers at the man making his proposition, intending the expression to be one which communicates very clearly her treasures are not to be had, and continues further onto the stage. Jane there begins to keep something of a wary vigil, hands staying on hips as she observes the growing crowd. The last time Ali had a party someone interfered, caused children to be hurt, and got the DJ into legal trouble. She also hopes the equipment for this event was obtained and used with clear written consent from whomever owns it.
The scowl Jane wears while studying the crowd is made all the more authentic by the sounds all around her. It's not rock. This is, to her, just a step above George Michael.
—-
There are several reasons why Desiree Russo is out of place. One, she's older than most of the rave's population, save for the security guards; two, she's obviously completely out of her element as she winds her way awkwardly through the crowd after not even having to show the bouncers her ID, bewilderment written all over her face as she's jostled around; three, she is not dressed like a pirate in any way, shape or form, unless you count the combination of black and white, sans skulls or crossbones, on her floral dress. The white designs blaze brightly under the blacklight. "'Scuse me-sorry-pardon me, sir… miss?… oh, it's sir. My bad, that's a-that's a real nice blouse…" Four, her thick Southern accent is a far cry from 'arr, mateys'. "…what in God's name," she breathes out to herself. She's just going to get swallowed up forever in a sea of glowing pirates.
—-
When the bass moves into the regular electronic pulse of techno, the slow build of instruments over drums - the stage comes alight, lit from above with blacklight and moving lighting. A woman's voice crashes out over speakers all around the room - "AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRR, NEW YORK!" And Bonnie Blythe (McAlister) moves out onto the stage, grinning in skeletal glee as the music crashes in.
It's not even that she's particularly well known - but the beat's infectuous, and it brings out a roar in return, the thickening crowd moving to the dance floor with the simple application of a beat, lights.. and fog machines. Jane - as close as she is, gets a wink that likely only she can see, Ali heading for the soundboard and tables up there.
In the meantime, Mikhail's groupies are carrying on with him, one giving him big eyes and even reaching out to try to tug the prettyboi out onto the dance floor.
Erin's glowy-goatee lady is joined by another fellow with lightstrands, trying to add pieces to her ensemble - apparently being in all-black is something of a /crime/ if fishnets and safety pins aren't involved.
—-
Mikhail can see there are some strings attached to the sticks in hand, each glowing faintly under the black light. The roar from the crowd makes him cringe, but he is mainly getting into the spirit of things. Really. As for the sudden appearance of groupies…
Dang, how'd that happen?!
He blinks, looking back at the girls who decided to target him. "Buh?" And then he's being dragged onto the floor. Man, she has a strong grip. No use trying to fight it now. Miki looks back and forth among the crowd, passing by other pirates and random weirdos along the way. "Uh…" Help?
—-
Yeah, but— She doesn't like glowy things, because… Oh, bother. Accepting the glowstick, Erin ties it to her bandanna and rolls her eyes. Speaking of eyes, the eyepatch is getting on her nerves, because there's a lack of depth perception. Is she having fun yet? No? Well, she will. Eventually. She's just grumpy, and nervous, because there's a lot of people here, and they're probably all going to go home sick, and it'll be her fault. AAAH.
So what's she doing? She's part of the crew. And because she does similar stuff on the set, she's working on… Well, a set. Making things look awesome, making sure they stay awesome, working on lighting, checking wiring. It's a little of everything, as long as it keeps her off to the side and off the dance floor, she's good!
Despite the fact that it's crowded in here, Erin notes something that's out of place, and it has nothing to do with the decorations. There's some lady in here who looks horribly out of place, and she's going to get trampled. Taking one of goatee-girl's light sticks… Then another for good measure, she makes her way over to Desiree. "Here. If you don't have a couple of these, you're going to get run over." There's a green one and a pink one. ENJOY!
—-
Ali is spotted and moved toward slowly, while she continues to check out the crowd, but manages just the same not to spot the out of place woman being given glowsticks by the ninja working on a set. Jane rests eyes on the DJ when she gets closer, but does nothing to disturb her routine. It's not like she could really converse in here anyway, given how loud it is, and she's still scowling.
—-
Desiree does the unthinkable and stops somewhere near the edge of the dancefloor. Lack of movement in a place that's meant to get you moving? A crime! The woman stands there, dangerously close to the moving bodies (she doesn't know how much they flail) with wide eyes, the various lights flashing on her face and making her blink and squint. By the way she fights to peer through the lights, fog, and people, it seems that she's looking for something (more likely, someone) in particular. The appearance of the pirate ninja Erin shocks her — it's not like she can hear anyone coming, what with the insane pirate techno. "O-oh, uh, well— " She takes the glowsticks without quite realizing what she's even doing - it's just polite. "Thanks! Wouldn't… wanna get trampled. So. Okay." Dezi brandishes the pink one like a torch, smiling with awkward enthusiasm. "Glowy sticks."
—-
Ali grins - gesturing Jane to the side as she steps up to the tables - and goes right in; there may be lights, but there's no video, not at this one. But the sync is nice, and the rhythm is driving, the transitions pretty darned good - or at least they are once the DJ gets a monitor headset in place.
The crowd moves with the beat, glowsticks forming a counterpoint of phosphorescence - and the girl dragging Mikhael /right past/ Desi starts right in as she hits the edge of the floor in the best of goth style.
In the meantime, the outer doors are pulled-to - at capacity, apparently. Now it's only people coming in when others go out, and so far - nobody's gone out /yet/.
The captain's cabin above is opened; a few pirates are already heading up the stairs.
—-
"Hi. Whoa. Excuse me, sorry," the dandy goth pirate apologizes while passing up the other people. He nods toward Dezi when he goes past her, fixing his large hat again as they continue.
Well. He's out here. Now what. Dance? It's expected, isn't it? As long as they're on the outer rims of the crowd, it's not bad. Mikhail frowns a little, trying to clear his head. It's no use thinking about other things at the moment. Two of the glow sticks dangle, swirling slowly on each side of him. Now to see if he's up to speed with his rave dancing stuff.
—-
She's kind of here to make sure nothing happens, too. That's mostly what the guards are for, but Erin's kind of curious about an older lady wearing a floral dress, hanging out at a rave. It doesn't much look like she wants to be here, that's for damn sure - Erin can tell, really. Giving the woman a good-natured (she hopes) clap on the arm, she asks - over the music - "What are you doing here?"
The ninja doesn't dance, she doesn't sing along with the music - she's just here to people watch. And save for someone in particular telling her to dance, she doesn't plan to. Take that, Alyssa! But if two people have to be out of place here, they might as well stick together.
—-
She nods once at the DJ and stands aside near the tables, making way for Ali to pass, while keeping hands on her hips. A few moments later Jane returns to scanning the crowd for signs of trouble, of anyone paying more than what attention seems warranted to equipment here. And again she fails to spot the out of place Desiree, even when she's taken on glowsticks. One boot becomes partly visible when she lifts it slightly to rest on some very small piece of equipment, and her head turns when one of the men who ogled her makes his way over with something to drink. "What manner of grog is this?" she mouths. "Ale," he answers, and she seems satisfied by that. It's accepted, but not tasted.
—-
"I'm— " Desiree holds the pink glowstick in the air and leeeeans back, pulling a face with a scrunched-up nose as the girl and Mikhail whisk by and she tries to avoid being lambasted by the feather in his hat. "I'm lookin' for somebody!" she answers the masked woman, shouting. "You ain't seen a underaged kid around here, a teenage boy… 'bout… yay tall…"
—-
Oddly enough, Ali leans out to one of the pirates near the stage - and points out into the crowd (suspiciously in Desiree's direction - fear) saying something with her hand over her mic that has him and a buddy heading Desi's way, with a grin.
The DJ settles back in, though- crossfading over to a track that sounds /suspiciously/ less piratey, and more popular - I Will Survive, and the reception seems to be good enough.
The girl with Mikhael is shamlessly flirting - and doing her best to draw the boi farther out into the floor.
The ninja, Erin, gives them a bit of space. Even at a rave in NYC? You don't mess with a /ninja/, no. It's like tugging on superman's cape, spitting into the wind…
—-
He didn't think the feather would be harmful, honest. Then again, it's one of those articles of clothing that one isn't sure whether or not to wear with the rest of the outfit. However, without it, he'll look funny.
As if he isn't odd-looking enough.
Good starts are made with the sticks, whirling effortlessly while he moves. He's trying to stay away from the flirty girl, but it seems impossible as she draws him into the mass of people. The control on the sticks is kept so that people won't get whacked by them accidentally, but he still manages to stay with the beat.
—-
Looking for an underage boy? Hah! The only feature of Erin's that's visible - her eyes - smile briefly when Desiree asks. Unfortunately, you're gonna get a lot of those in here, even if there are people at the door to check for that. There's just no time to be suspicious of everyone, and certainly no time to cause a scene at the door.
"I haven't, sorry," Erin replies loudly. Having worked on stage enough to know the sound of a microphone being covered, the ninja turns to look at Ali. Still, who is Erin to interfere? Her charity only goes so far, and she's already given Desiree a couple glowsticks so she doesn't get trampled. What more d'you want from her? "I'll keep an eye out," she says. As if she'll find one particular teenage boy in this crowd. Poor girl - just a mother looking for her son, it seems. LET HIM HAVE FUN, Erin would say! Another pat to Desiree's shoulder, and she says, "Good luck." More because she's wondering what Ali's up to than she is wishing good fortune to the woman in finding her son. She doesn't walk off, though, because she has a front row seat. Why give that up?
—-
The things one does for friends, Jane thinks, as she holds her position on the stage and watches the crowd. It isn't her kind of place; while she doesn't stick out by her age or her clothing she definitely feels it. She's a rocker at a rave, with her ears being tortured by techno. Her eyes close for a moment as she perhaps prays the people gathered here will discover taste in real music and start to clamor for Aerosmith or something. But there's no such luck. Jane eyes the drink in her hand, and the retreating guy who brought it, deciding not to taste it. God knows what might be in there; she'll just hold the thing as she edges closer to Ali with intent of standing nearby.
—-
The room is /happening/ - Mikhael spins lightsticks on the dance floor among the packed crowd there, moving in time with a driving techno beat supplied by the DJ Bonny Blythe McAlister, transformed tonight into an undead pirate, Captain of the Rave, the Mary Celeste.
The bar is serving, the upstairs is open; Jane plays security by the stage while Erin makes sure Dezi doesn't get stepped on (out of place as she is in her glowing-white, floral print dress under the blacklights), the latter holding a pink glowstick up like a torch.
—-
Undeterred, Desiree smiles graciously at Erin. "'ppreciate it!" She casts a glance in the direction of the grinning men approaching her general direction, more curious than wary, unsure of where, exactly, they're headed. They're not looking for her, obviously. Unless she's breaking the dress code or something. The woman clutches onto the unfamiliar glowing lights in her hands and starts to move along the edge of the crowd, her smile slowly turning into a scowl as she tries to find her wayward teenager.
—-
The two fellows bracket Desi - not touching, just yet - "There ye are, wench!"
"Aye, the Captain wants a word, she does!"
… hey, it wouldn't be a Pirate Rave if they weren't in character, right?
"Ye will just be comin' along with us, then, arr!"
Okay. Acting lessons. Good thing.
—-
Like Jane, this is definitely not Orion's sort of party. The tall man slips in discretely, a lovely and marginally younger Filipina in tow, though he's all but biting back a snarl at the techno-sound. Granger is neither a rocker nor a rap enthusiast, but he'd certainly feel much more comfortable embracing their beat than the phat beatz laid down in techno.
He adjusts his orange shirt, glancing down at the reactive paint-smear where he would ordinarily have some random kanji or image scrawled to take note of his hasty looking… Is that supposed to be Morse code? Did he 'paint' Morse code on his shirt? It certainly looks like it. Granger shrugs a little bit, re-adjusting his shirt and his leather jacket quickly before he finally looks to the Filipina at his six.
"We came, we saw, we listened. Can we go now?"
—-
The young Filipina is also a bit surprised by the rave. She's never been to one, and as Orion can attest, she's more into bootie shaking rap and hip hop than the 'udge udge' sound of techno. She hrmms for a few moments, letting her fingers entwine with his own before giving it a gentle squeeze.
A wry grin curls onto her lips as she takes a deep breath, wincing a little at the smell of BO and sweat. She shudders and takes his other hand, smiling warmly before bringing him towards the dance floor. Claudine beams brightly as she tries to make the best of it, dressed in her usual club gear: a tight denim skirt and black spaghetti strap blouse that's pretty much skin tight.
"Well, let's just dance for a bit. We came out all this way? I promise to make it up to you at home!"
And she waggles her brows scandalously at that while tugging him towards the dance floor.
—-
Whirl whirl whirl. Mikhail is finding it harder and harder to concentrate on the environment. It's all blending in with his glowstick raving: the hollering of the pirates, the crazy lights, the continuous unf tiss unf tiss unf tiss. His costume doesn't make things any better. Seeing a goth pirate rave is just boggling. Tonight is an exception.
If there has been more space created for him, Mikhail will not have noticed. The glowsticks start flying around him, figure eights and other things breaking out unless he gets hit by one. He's not on drugs, and he doesn't need it at this rate. Although the colors are really pretty and bright like this…
—-
Erin has to roll her eyes at the pirate performance, because she could do oh so much better were she not relegated to hiding here in this place! Sure, it's self-imposed, but that's beside the point, because there's something to be said about a little caution. However, she hasn't yet gone far, and she will, in fact, follow Desiree and her escorts back up to the stage, if the floral-print mom doesn't get away.
—-
"Uuhhh," comes Desiree's articulate response. The out-of-place Southerner glances from side to side, hazel eyes wide as can be, even going so far as to look behind her to make sure the men aren't addressing a different… wench, but there's no mistaking it. They have her surrounded! "The Cap'n? Did I do somethin' wrong? I don't gotta walk the plank, do I, 'cause I didn't wear the right shoes and uh…" Dezi gestures over one narrow shoulder with her green glowstick, creating a trail of light in the air. "I'm jus'— I'm jus' lookin' for my son, see, I think he's here somewhere…"
—-
A packed room, loud music, people, and booze. Gene does not belong here and he knows it. Dressed in a simple black shirt and blue jeans, he comes in equipped with three vital parts of being a pirate. First, he has the eyepatch over his eye. Secondly, he has pirate bandanna, the red headgear covering most of his hair. Thirdly, he has a taser which appears to be like a harmless PDA. Wait, you are saying that pirates didn't have taser? Suck it up, Gene has a taser. But for his 'pirate weapon' he also has an inflatable sword that came with his PotC: World's End Happy Meal. If someone has a problem with the inflatable sword? Well, good thing he's got the taser. He would have brought in R2-D2, but there are too many people around, the close quarters making a partner in crime a bad call. After all, with so many people, they could steal the droid and Gene might not even notice… Which would be a horrible thing indeed.
Moving in after Orion and Claudine he looks around. He doesn't see Elena. He doesn't see Eric. He knows Jaden's not here since the man could stick out in a packed football stadium None of his friends are here. Maybe Elena isn't showing like she said she was. Maybe there will be someone else to grab his attention, but someone he doubts that she'd be at a place like this.
—-
Oblivious to the pirates sent to get Desi and bring her to the Captain, Jane takes position close by Ali and quietly begins to look over CDs and such the DJ has here. She's perhaps plotting to improve the musical quality here by slipping in something decent. Her unstated opinion does add to the effect of her pirate garb; she looks distinctly surly. That ale is still in hand, untasted, as she seeks to catch Ali's attention and ask her if the guy who brought it is the sort who'd spike it. Too, too easy for a woman to get roofied by drinks from people she doesn't know.
—-
The two pirates bracketing Dezi laugh - it's a friendly thing, one offering an arm to be an escort. A PIRATE ESCORT. "Maaaybe. Ye should talk to the Captain, ye should!"
"AYE, THE CAPTAIN!"
Volume comes with enthusiasm.
More sotto voice the second adds, "I promise. No horrible things will happen to ya. And you get to be on stage, right?" It comes with a wink - and, if she lets 'em, those two pirates will start chivvying her for the stage.
The music segues into a drunken sailor techno thing that's suprisingly danceable, the bar starting to get its fair share as the music has folk working up a thirst. Mikhail's out in the dance floor hitting himself in the head with glowsticks on strings, while Erin shadows Dezi for the moment and Orion's being made to dance by an eager Claudine.
For those paying a /lot/ of attention, there's a bit of a commotion on the other side of the dance floor, in the darkest corner away from the stage, the lights, and the dancing at its tightest.
Ali blinks at Jane, mouthing - "Not anybody that'd bring a drink up here - " But there's a shrug. Caveat Emptor. Nevermind, tho - she spins up another disc, adding in a plug on a nearby synth - watching the pirates below for timing.
—-
Orion looks like a wounded puppy as he is literally dragged out onto the crowded dance floor. He sighs, closing his eyes, and tries to sway to the beat of the music. Shockingly he actually hits a few of the beats, moving in time with it as he clears processing vision from his brain's many tasks.
Unfortunately Claudine turned her back and Orion has, quite inadvertantly, started dancing away. By the time she turns around, Orion can be faintly seen dancing with someone with a particularly Scott Baio-like androgenousness to their person. His eyes being closed is probably the only thing that is going to save him from being brained for dancing away.
—-
And she begins dancing, or rather jumping. She's with the beat, raising her arms in the air and letting his hands go. That's probably why he got away and when she comes to, she blinks blankly and just /STARES/. She stares for quite some time, but when she feels the faint rumbling of the earth, she takes control and forces thing to not get all destructive.
So, the young Filipina bounces on over to Orion, going inbetween him and 'Scott Baio', even bumping her hips against the Baio man-thing cause well ya know..yeah.
"You know, you were the one who asked me if I wanted to go to this. It's your own damn fault.."
—-
Thonk. "Ow," Mikhail blinks as he hits himself with the blue glowstick. It's not cool now, hanging and dangling there while the other one creates circles and rings of bright orange. He rubs his hat since his head is under it, now back in reality. Blue gray eyes dart around at the bodies in motion, looking a little lost. He also sort of lost that one girl who was dancing with him. Oh well. Shrugging, Miki goes to start up the other glowstick again. Space! He needs space! Fear his fanciness!
—-
As she trails behind Desiree and her escorts, Erin glances around at some of the other people here. Okay, so it's fun and humourous to see some of the stuff people wear… Her eyes roll at people like Claudine, though, who aren't dressed up at all. At least Erin is a ninja! With a pirate bandana! Oh, well. There's always a few, aren't there? Expertly weaving her way through the crown near the stage, Erin jumps up on it, sitting on the edge before swinging her legs over so she can stand. To Ali, she says in a shout over the music, "What the hell are you doing?"
—-
Desiree's boldly-shaped eyebrows shoot way, way up. The smile that the woman gives the pirates might as well be glued there with sticky-tack. She wants to be polite even to her captors (they're friendly enough), but there's that one word… "S-s-stage? I think I'd rather walk the plank." Finding herself walking along with them, she hesitates and starts to trip over her own feet. "O-okay, I'm comin', I'm comin'! don't get yer pantaloons or whatever you've got under there in a knot…"
"Boxers!" The loud one supplies, helpfully.
—-
A nod is given to Ali as she replies about the safety of the ale she's holding, and Jane lifts it to drink a small amount, but her hand freezes in mid-air. There's pirates approaching, with Desiree. She double-takes, blinking to make sure she's not hallucinating or anything of that kind. And when the eyes reopen, sure enough, it's her. "Desi," she greets in a somewhat confused shout, "I'd never expect to see you here…" Flanked by pirates, and followed by a ninja. Ali is turned toward, her brows arching in puzzlement, as she utters another shout. "Why're you having my friend dragged up here?"
—-
The music is overcut with the Dj's mike - with a mischevious smile given to Jane and Erin, she stalks out from behind the podium, drawing that plastic, glowy sword of hers. "AVAST!" her voice booms, the driving beat continuing - "A spy! A British wench, no doubt, sent to spy 'pon this gather - "
The pirates graciously help Desiree to climb the stage as the audience cheers - in the din, Ali leans in close, cutting her mic to offer a quick murmer, a wink, then leaning back to brandish glowy cutlass, phosphorescent bone-paint bright under the blacklight. "Stands only one penalty fer spies, 'mong this company - and all o' ye know what that is!"
—-
Orion was unaware that this would be a theme party or else he would have let Claudine know. Then you would all have to fear the mighty might of Orion in some pirate costume selected by Claudine and forced upon him like flea medication on a dog. And Orion's one big (sea)dog.
At the sound of Claudine's remark, Granger opens one eye. It studies Claudine and then the 'guy' behind her that she appears to be hip-bumping. Granger opens both eyes now, one eyebrow arched speculatively before he inquires, "What is my own damn fault?"
And let's not forget the all important dance roll.
—-
"This. Dancing. The wierdness. Raves are odd.."
Even she's slightly uncomfortable. Give her bootie popping and shaking any day of the weak to hip hop or hardcore gangster rap. She's definitely not into this at all, and it shows as she drops it like it's hot, and it just doesnt go with the rhythm at all. Well, it does, but it just seems awkward with the 'udge udge' beat of the music.
Claudine grumbles while chuckling softly at her own sillyness. "But dont worry about it. Just jump..and dont crush my feet, please.."
—-
out there with Claudine and Orion, a rather tall, gangly pirate with a spaced out expression and a 'love the world' grin, inundated with glowstick and glownecklace, well, he dances through, etherial and gothy, brandishing a palm at both of the two - on which sits a nice selection of potential trouble, all in pill form. "Time to fly, children - " the candypirate offers, with a grin.
A couple of security guys notice, and move that way - feathery hats marking their progress.
—-
Oh, this poor woman. Despite the fact that her mouth is already covered by NINJA STUFF, she raises a hand to do so, as well, laughing behind it. "She's only here to look for her son," Erin says quietly, knowing damn well that her roommate won't hear it.
As the guy with the glowy strands comes by, Erin grabs out out of his hand - she probably doesn't need to grab it, but she does, anyway, leaning down from the stage. He doesn't even notice! Putting it around her neck, she hangs her glowstick from it. And. Watches.
—-
Mikhail is becoming unaware of things again, spinning cycles of color with some of the other people. There's always more than one pirate raving - it'd be weird to only having one guy doing it. Again, he's distracted. His hat flounces as he turns, letting the glowsticks twirl and swirl. He can probably pull out another two, but it may be dangerous for those around him. However, he can be a little more daring. Time to try some other steps. Or fail trying.
—-
Why indeed! That's Desiree's question. She doesn't look too put out about it, smiling a bright smile at Jane, but there's a nervous edge to her features. What is she going to have to do?! On stage? Oh dear. "Hi, Jane!" she shouts on her way up to the stage before the form of the Captain makes itself known to her. "I know y— " she starts to say, but cuts herself off while she leans in to listen carefully to McAlister's murmur.
Standing up straight, crossing her arms, flanked by pink and green glowsticks respectively, Desiree adopts a more confident grin. "British!" she exclaims loudly in her natural Southern accent as if appalled. "Well, I ain't British or a spy. You got the wrong gal, Cap'n!" While trying not to look at the crowd, she dares to poke the glowing cutlass with an extended finger. "And what, pray tell, do you plan to do with— " Oh no! It seems they have a spy in their midst after all! She's lapsed into a slightly over-theatrical British accent all of a sudden. As if realizing her mistake, Desiree clamps a finger over her lips, pantomiming the classical 'oops!' as the pink of the glowstick she still clutches illumines her face.
—-
She watches, her eyes moving between Ali and Desi in equal measure as they speak, then on the slightly taller woman more when she addresses the crowd. Jane seems content not to do or say anything at the moment, her pirate scowl has eased off a bit, but she's still plotting. All sorts of minor pranks to retaliate with. Soon the expression has changed into something of a smirk, and the cup Ali declared safe is finally tasted. Decent ale, she seems to think, as a second swig is taken soon after.
—-
Oh, the crowd eats that up - laughing and roaring - "HAVE HER WALK THE PLANK!" "RUN HER THROUGH!" "YEAH, I'D RUN HER THROUGH!"
There's always /one/.
"THE PLANK!" "YEAH, THE PLANK!"
the Captain Ali sneers, covering a laugh, pointing to the right where a spot, clearly cued for that moment, illumines /an honest to goodness plank/. Well, it's a diving board stolen from somewhere and painted to look like wood, but /hey/. With the way the light hits it, the deepest darkness past the edge of the stage somehow gets darker.
"To the plank with ye, wench! Speak yer last words - and when y' meet Davey Jones, ye tell him he'll not get Bonny Blythe!"
—-
"My god Ali, you went all out didn't ya?" Eric Walker mutters from his little corner of the chaos. Oh yes. He's there, he's enjoying himself. He never was one to get out in the middle of everything. He's got himself a nice little piece of wall though, and a glowstick. Actually two, attached by a string. Thats he's idily spinning about his hands and wrists as he watches the chaos and madness that goes on in the middle of the room.
…wait. Wait…is…is that…Desi? *pause* Does that mean Ramon is here?!
Now Eric's head swivels about, because if there is /one/ thing that would be awesomely classic to see it would be Ramon's reaction to all this…well…to all this. Sadly enough, no Ramon is in sight.
…well….its a good thing really it is.
—-
"All I knew was there was dancing and that you like dancing. How was I supposed to kn-"
And then The Candy Pirate steps up and into Orion's range. Granger's foot immediately comes down on the pirate's foot in a moment of abjectly horrible timing on both of their parts.
The worst part is probably that Orion is now dancing at a sub-par level /ON/ the candy pirate's feet. Did we mention that Orion is trying to escape the Candy Pirate so as not to shatter the man's feet? Because he is, but his dancing is failing in an utter and complete manner.
—-
And he dances. That brings a bright smile to her features as she giggles, looking around real quick for a few moments. Oh hey, there's Eric. She remembers being drunk with him, and so she decides to call him over. "Hey, it's the ninja nerd!" she calls out before turning her attention back to Orion.
She's blissfully unaware of the candyman's feet getting crushed as she bobs her head, raising her arms in the air. She decides to go with the usual college co-ed dancing, raising her arms while swaying her hips from side to side. Claudine sways her hips from side to side as she hrmms at the candyman and just shakes her head, refusing the bag, as well, she already has enough sugar in her system, and the poor girl doesnt know any better.
"And I do like dancing, so thank you."
—-
Didn't those pirates imply she wouldn't have to walk the plank?! Well, maybe Desiree wasn't listening between the lines. In any case, she's trying not to break into a goofy grin. "Davey Jones doesn't frighten me! I laugh— " That's laawff. She's ever so British, you see. " —at Davey Jones! I spit in his beard!" The floral print mom takes a bold step toward the plank and tries to hand one glowstick, then the other, to McAlister, as if having to carry them to her doom would be some giant inconvenience.
—-
Erin is still watching. Ali wouldn't kill anyone. She's harmless. Like a kitten.
—-
THe candypirate steadies Orion with an oof and a laugh, limping back a step - "Hey, man - careful there- " But then he's moving to dissapear into the crowd… before the guys in hats catch up.
It takes him Eric's way, for now.
—-
Spotlights, planks, chaos - what else can they ask for here? People who go to these things more than once are strange. The goth pirate gets up from his awesome glowstick move, again pausing to stare at everyone else. The blue glowstick keeps drawing little rings near the ground, the orange one swinging like a pendulum on the opposite side. He can't tell where people are anymore, the lighting obscuring his vision. Mikhail squints, the feather in his hat being fluttery and weird.
Hopefully people have stopped watching him, too. But who is he to say what happens? Besides, this is getting interesting.
—-
She's walking the plank. Jane watches this in silence, her plotting easing up a bit since the taller woman seems to be playing along, and she doesn't think Ali would influence her to do such a thing. Not that way, anyway. The trust here is complete, though there may still be retaliatory pranks in the future.
—-
Ian. Well. Ian's in black fatigue pants, but rather than his usual black t-shirt, he wears a mesh top, which really leaves nothing above the waist to the imagination. Deliberately so, because on the skin beneath, someone's painted a dragon in UV-reactive body paints, in glowing shades of blue, red, purple, and green - its tail ends at the small of his back, the body curling over his shoulder, the head right below his heart. Thank goodness it's not that cold out. He's squinting into the blacklit dimness, looking cheerful and eager, just out of the entrance.
—-
Ali takes the glowsticks - taking that moment to whisper something - and then steps back - "Oh, ye will /learn/, wench!" And she turns her back on Desi, raising that glowing cutlass -
The driving bass continues in the underlay -
"Over the side!"
—-
The Candy Pirate's helping did not help much. It sends Granger off-balance and off-beat, the tall man wobbling about before he finally gets his footing. Unfortunately, Orion seems to have lost the beat. And control of his limbs.
SPAZ DANCE - ENGAGE!
—-
Considering she was also trying to match Orion's rhythm so he doesnt look that bad, she just oyes as he begins the spaz dance. She blinks in disbelief for a few moments before taking a deep breath, jumping a little while giggling impishly the entire time. She might as well join in the crazyness, it's techno music afterall, so she just has to go with the beat.
So what happens is the young Filipina moves in seeming counterpoint to Orion's moves, jumping up and down while raising her arms in the air. Claudine laughs heartily the entire time while still trying to wave Eric on over.
—-
Someone that hasn't really been seen yet at the rave is the young mechanic Kitty, who after hearing of the party /had/ to go especially since her friend was the DJ. So dressed in a brown miniskirt and white blouse along with high black leather boots the young woman makes her way through the crowd and bobs her head to the music as she searches for Ali, wanting to greet her friend. Her auburn hair falls free to her shoulders and she is jostled some as she makes her way through the sea of bodies.
—-
One of whom is Ian, who turns to apologize, having already gotten himself a bottle of something full of stimulants. But his face relaxes into a grin. 'Oh, hey," he says, blithely, patting her cheerfully on the shoulder.
—-
Desiree's boots — knee-high brown leather, with clunky high heels — make apt thudding noises on the plank, to those close enough to hear over the bass (that is, not many). She dutifully, yet with a look of snub-nosed rebellion, entirely affected, walks to the very end. "I'll learn you, when I show Mr. Jones what's what!" she shouts in her exaggerated British accent, holding her arms far out at her sides like a carved mermaid figurehead on a ship. "Cursed filthy pirates!" Without missing a beat in her impromptu little act, the 'spy' takes a step straight off the plank into the dark void below the stage.
Some psychic she is. She couldn't even predict her own fake death!
—-
Since he can use a break from all the dancing, the performance is really lively. And there goes that lady. INTO THE IMAGINARY DRINK. "Woo," Mikhail cheers vaguely, unsure of what else to say about it.
—-
Standing by Ali, watching as Desi goes off the plank and into that void, Jane walks to the edge and looks down, trying to see where she went and see for herself what sort of safety measures were used. And to hopefully make sure she isn't injured despite them. There's something of a wider smirk forming now on this pirate-garbed woman with the bagpipes over her shoulder, is it from enjoyment or plotting? Only she knows. It could be both.
—-
The crowd roars its approval - and Ali brandishes her cutlass as she returns to the tables, grinning widely as the ghost Captain changes up tracks to commemorate the death of the SPY - "Broadsides" by Cap'n Dan. It's a little more hiphop, but HONESTLY. It had to be done.
Not too bad a transition, either. The mike's shut down for a moment.
In the dark corner farthest from the stage, a pair of stagehand-pirates busily connect electrical cables.
—-
LET THE SPAZ DANCE CONTINUE!
How, exactly, Claudine is keeping up with Orion's wild flailing and out-of-beat movements is anyone's guess. But thus far she has been doing an admirable job of causing Orion no end of consternation as he attempts to man-mimic her movements and get back into synch with the beat of the techno.
It is failing miserably.
People around Granger should also probably beware. His wildly flailing limbs are made of more PAIN than even their FAIL.
—-
"Hey you! Sorry about my freak-a-zoid attack the other day, we need to talk but after the party of course!" Kitty says and winks at Ian, and then she looks around and spots Dezi on the stage. "DESIREE!" she yells and points at the woman as she disappears from view, she spots Jane and hops up and down waving until she turns back to Ian, "That woman left me for the roaches in Noodle Heaven! She's still cool though, I gotta go say hi!" she starts to walk away and looks at Ian as if to tell him to follow her!
—-
Okay. This is just. Odd. Claudine just has to stop as she hears the music and facepalms, wrinkling her nose and just shakes her head. a soft oye escapes from her lips, more amused as she watches Orion do his spaz dance.
A happy little sigh escapes fromher lips as she reaches out to take his hands and gives it a gentle squeeze. It seems that her message towards ninja nerd wasnt herd, so she snickers a little and whispers something softly. Hopefully he can hear her.
—-
Ian trails after. Hey, she's the first familiar space he's spotted. ANd he's got his drink, and the dancing can wait. "Sure," he says, simply.
He could have escaped. He could have walked through the swaying bodies to get to the outer edge and maybe leave. Instead, he was stuck. Mikhail finds some of the dancers oddly entertaining. CoughOrionCough. And then the space around him closing up again. He has to fight for the room, letting the glow sticks flail out again. One hand holds onto the glowstick, raising to fix the hat in order to see better. "Eh, whatever," he sighs, starting up some other moves and gathering attention whether he fails at it or not.
—-
Erin's been there watching the whole time, really! She didn't think Ali was going to shove the woman over the side of the plank, though, and a look of concern crossed her face when that happened. At the moment, she's inching toward the edge of the stage to look over.
—-
There's… a sudden growl over the speaker system, from across the way - "BLYTHE!" It's a snarl, electronically modified to be more sinister than it probably should be.
Lights wake across the warehouse - illuminating a second stage, where a tall, thin pirate, pale and gaunt, with a crew around him - and his own DJ tables and illumination going in time.
"DAVEY JONES!" The Captain roars - and with a /bang/ electronic cannons fire… and the foam sprayers kick, blasting the entire crowd with the sudsy stuff and a flash of strobes.
—-
Granger finally stops his wild flailing, the spaz dance cancelled on account of hot girlfriend. The tall man smiles at Claudine, stopping his frantic physical insanity almost as soon as he feels his hand wrapped up in her's. He moves away, nodding to her as he starts trying to spy a way from the dance floor to… Well. Somewhere with drinks. There's a bar in here, right?
—-
Yes, Claudine felt bad for Orion. Heck, this music isnt the type she'd normally dance too. She sighs contentedly and rests her head on his shoulder while giving his hand a squeeze before moving away from the dance floor. She's thirsty afterall and soon she looks around to see if there's anyone else she knows. Mingling is good afterall, right?
—-
Another thin figure appears from — well, it's hard to say, exactly. It slinks around Davey Jones to stand beside him… ETERNALLY? In tattered breaches, some manner of leather corset over a bedraggled billowing shirt weighed down by a heavy, long coat, with brown boots that might be a little familiar… it's Desiree, the Southerner-turned-British-spy-turned-undead-pirate. Her face is painted with ghostly make-up not unlike Bonny Blythe's. She brandishes a cutlass. She doesn't know it's called a cutlass, just that it's a weapon that should be brandished dramatically, like so. "AVAST!" she yells with a growl to her voice. More quietly, in a mumbling drawl, she tells the man beside her, "Hi, nicetomeetyou."
—-
As Erin sees what's going on, she rolls her eyes and smiles. It's funny how she's perfectly comfortable not acting at all - not even speaking up over the microphone. She's just being quiet, making sure everything's okay, that no one's hurt, or messing with things they shouldn't be messing with. Ali has this well under control—
What the HELL is going on!?
Maybe she should have asked Ali about this just a little more before agreeing to be on the crew. Still, she cracks up when she sees what her roommate's done with the Southerner who was just previously wearing a floral dress and looking for her son. The ninja shakes her head, giving Ali a good shove as she walks across the stage behind her, and looks for a microphone. Screw it - if people figure out who she is, she'll take the tongue lashing at work tomorrow. You can't honestly have a pirate rave without NINJA BATTEL.
—-
Watching, still, after making sure Desiree wasn't hurt, Jane steps away from the edge of that stage just in time for the explosion of foam. The goings on have her attention held, and so she misses the waving motions of people out among the crowd. Her smirk shifts to a slight smile, enjoying the way the role of standing with Davey Jones is embraced. Although she hasn't the first clue who the ninja person going for a microphone is, she seems to know Ali so there's no objection to the action.
—-
SUDS'D. And DAVEY JONES'D? Wait a minute, what?! Mikhail coughs, wiping away some of the clustered bubbles from his face. And then the reappearance of another figure brings more excitement to everyone. "…Maybe I should move now," he murmurs to himself, shuffling around those preoccupied with the show.
—-
Kitty chuckles as she sees Dezi reappear and she begins to make her way around to the stage, where Ali is, she thinks? Of course she will have to deal with security, but Kitty can be resourceful right? So she continues to make her way around and looks back periodically to make sure that Ian is still behind her, "Ok I have to get up there! My friends are up there!" The young woman says with determination and she grins around her as she watches everyone having a good time.
Wait. Suds? SUDS? What the hell?
Orion's playfully amused expression toward Claudine sours almost within seconds of the suds firing. He lets out a furious sound that is largely drowned out by the rest of the rave as his leather jacket is subjected to RAVE SUDS from a CANNON.
—-
It was a foam party! Hooray, a foam party! She beams brightly and lets out a hearty laugh as she sighs and gahs, though she quickly closes her mouth, not wanting to get any of the gross suds in her mouth afterall.
Claudine is annoyed as she's now drenched in the suds and she shakes her head, ewwing a little.
"You know, if it was going to be a foam party, I would've just come in my bikini.."
—-
Ali shoves back, with a grin - and sticking out her tongue may not be in the best Captainy Character, but SO WHAT.
See, the music's kicking up - and it's gone from being canned to being a more extemperaneous floor show, the two DJ's leaving words behind, engaging in a techno /battle to the death/ swapping records and letting needles and mixers set the stage for a show that's… actually pretty darned impressive.
As the two captains duel, Davey's 'men'
(davey offering the southerner a grin and a mutttered, "Hey. Dave. Pleasure.")
move out into the blowing foam and shared beats - they're obviously a dance team, and it shows, showing off moves as the rest of the party is encouraged to dance to a looser, somehow far too friendly 'battle'.
And yes, there's a bar - there's also foam, fog, lights, strobes, and far too much music for anybody's good. And the roar of the crowd matches it - it's a heck of a party, if nothing else.
Enough looking and, yes, Erin can find a mic - one is even offered to Desi on the far side.
—-
"Honey, the bouncers'll throw your ass out if you try and jump up there," Ian advises, undismayed by the wetting and the foaming. The bodypaint is waterproof, and it's not like he melts when dampened, right?
—-
Christian enters the warehouse with an apprehensive grimace on his face, hazel eyes darting about furiously enough to give him the appearance of a rabbit creeping into the tiger's lair - a well-dressed rabbit, a visually and aurally shocking lair. He stands for a moment by the entrance way, closing his eyes briefly as if steeling himself for what promises to be a harrowing experience, then re-opens them just in time to politely inform a mohawk-sporting rocker with a pink peg leg that "No, I'm afraid I /don't/ have any E to spare." He cautiously makes his way towards the bar with all the grace of a sperm whale out of water, attempting to skirt the dance floor with its masses of foam-covered, shrieking people in search of the ultimate social cure-all: BOOZE.
—-
Desiree stares, in what will hopefully come across as the blank and ghastly gaze of the undead, when Davey's men break loose and start dancing. "…I ain't doin' that," she says under her breath — and just before she's handed a microphone, thankfully. Like the glowsticks earlier, she takes it without realizing what she's doing, leaving her looking down at it as if it's a foreign object. She's looking around for someone to pawn it back off to when an idea strikes, and with a few steps ahead, shielding her eyes from the flash of lights and peering out over the rave, she lifts the mic. "PARKER MITCHELL MADDOX," she calls out her sneaky teenaged son who may or may not even be here. But already, there's scurrying in a corner. "If you don't come up here right now, I'ma come after you with this— this— " She makes vague circles and stabs in the air with the cutlass, "…sword-thing! Hell. I see you, mister—!" With that, Dezi scrambles into the thick of things to worm her way to the far end of the warehouse. Get out of her way, she has a sword thing.
—-
Ah-ha, microphone. Found, check. She finds a place on her ninja costume to clip the receiver, and holds the mic up to her mouth. It's behind thin cloth, though she can still be heard. The voice might be familiar to anyone who watches TV during the boring daytime hours, but ravers usually aren't the type to watch soap operas. When Dezi heads out, it's time to do something, so there's no proverbial 'dead air' time.
And surprise, she has throwing stars on her person. Erin hasn't come completely unprepared. Granted, they are foam throwing stars, and they couldn't hurt a fly, but they are throwing stars all the same. Dramatically ripping off the pirate bandana around her head, she proclaims into the mic that she's not a pirate, after all. Her clever disguise has fooled you all. Cue maniacle laughter.
It's cheesy, it's improv, but God, she loves it. She'll have to apologise later to Ali for mucking things up. But after shouting that she's infiltrated their base, she launches those foam throwing stars at the dancers. TAKE THAT.
—-
An eyebrow raises on the face of the woman onstage near Ali and the ninja with the microphone as Desiree calls out her son Parker and goes to chase after him with a sword thing. "That'll work," she murmurs. And she thinks about how long it's been since she saw Portia and gave her pointers on music. In all of this, watching the scurrying, she again fails to spot anyone else known to her among the crowd. For someone who's goal was to hopefully make sure Ali didn't get into dutch like her last party, she's wide open. Anyone could do just about anything, and she'd miss it.
—-
"I'll have to get Jane and Ali's attention then won't I?" Kitty strokes her chin and looks around the warehouse, "Got any ideas?" she asks Ian and touches his arm and she jumps up and down again, waving in Jane and Ali's direction. Hopefully one of them will notice her. Her hair falls in her eyes and she blows it out as a guy bumps into her and quickly apologizes and runs off. She then spots Desi again.
"Oh god, she can't embarrass her son that way!" Kitty facepalms and shakes her head, smiling faintly.
—-
The dancers accept the pelting with good grace, really - throwing some /back/ - but add in the foam, the general melee of dance, the pounding music?
It turns into a /free for all/ rave. Glowsticks and movement, smoke and foam -
And a few people siding with the /ninja/, too. It takes all /sorts/, apparently.
The two DJs keep knocking out beats, transitioning smoothly between each other in handoffs that really showcase some rather phenomenal skill in the art form - who's winning? Oh, it's hard to say.
And security? Security comes over to even help Dezi catch up to that scurrying form. After all, she's a /pirate/ nao.
—-
'I know," Ian says, calmly. "I can put you up on my shoulders. Like a game of chicken in the pool. If you're willing to get that close to someone you don't know well."
—-
Let's You and Him Fight. It's been a cliche for decades. Literally; goes all the way back to a Popeye cartoon from the 1930s, where it was a catchphrase of Wimpy's.
Today, it's been appropriated by some fans of a different meme. It's not the ninjas. It's not even another band of pirates… at least not the sort that your average John Q. Public would think of. No, these are the feared corporate raiders of the Crimson Permanent Assurance!
The ship (okay, a repurporsed parade float) crashes through a section of "wall" (okay, they open an automatic garage door) and charge (…crawl) into the midst of the crowd, waving swords in their right hands, and cell phones in the left. (What did you expect, hooks?) At the wheel is a triumphant George, sporting a blingtastic trefoil hat and matching cufflinks: "Avast, me hearties, let's board the scurvies and raid their coffers!"
—-
Kitty thinks about it for a split second and then begins to hop on Ian's shoulders, "You are a friend of mine Ian. I trust ya!" she grins and if she was successful, well she would now be above a lot of the people and waving at Jane and Ali. "I hope this works!"
—-
With the antics around the stage calmed down, no more friends made to walk the plank and suchlike, and DJs getting into a battle, Jane resumes her wishing they actually had taste in music. She very badly needs exposure to rock, and soon. But she's trapped, watching Ali's back. Her eyes begin to roam the crowd again, keeping watch for trouble, and just before the repurposed and George carrying float arrives, she spots something. Woman on a guy's shoulders, waving like crazy? Her attention halts there and she takes a closer look. Oh. It's the psychometrist she dubbed Cat. A nod goes toward her, signifying okay, I see you.
But a moment later the SS George draws her attention away. Her scowl returns, hands resettle on hips.
—-
Ian hefts Kitty up on to his shoulders, like a father trying to get his kid a better view at a parade. He doesn't seem to be straining much - boy's stronger than he looks. George's arrival has him stifling laughter.
—-
And the Captain Blythe? Well… Ali lets more and more attention go across to the other DJ until she's able to doff the mic, take a step back - flash a grin at Kitty, a wave… and edge toward the back of the stage. She offers a few quiet words Jane's way, in fact, "I gotta get something to drink, sit down for a bit. Worked out to be a pretty good party, huh?" It's hopeful, really.
—-
Kitty cheers and waves back before hoping down from Ian's shoulders, "Thanks!" she smiles and chokes at the sigh of George, "What the hell is George doing?!" she snickers and places her hand on her hips.
—-
George looks this way and that, taking off the hat and using it to shade his eyes from the rainbow lights as he surveys the crowd. At least he isn't wearing his tie around his forehead like Smitty the first mate is. "Smitty, take the port side; Sparky, the starboard!" Sparky is a five-foot-nothing woman dressed in business casual and a cab driver's hat. "Leave the captain to me," he adds, picking up a prop foil in his left hand and heading toward the stage. It'll take him a while to reach it, though; Kitty and Ian are waved at as he catches sight of them, followed by Jane. "I see you survived the torches and pitchforks," he calls out to the musician, cryptically.
—-
"Right there with you, Ali," Jane replies in a voice just loud enough to make herself heard. "It's a decent theme, yeah," she offers, "but you know me. It needed one hundred percent less crap and one hundred percent more real music." Because she's Jane, and only rock is acceptable. Her eyes aim at a quieter area, and the head nods in that direction. "Over there?" The scowl shifts into a more neutral expression, and hands leave her hips.
—-
"Pirate Matt DAmon. It's like the beginning of the Good Shepherd," Ian observes, before taking a pull off his energy drink. He's still following Kitty.
—-
Kitty just dances a little and looks around the warehouse, "Cool party huh?" her gaze flicks to George and she grins and then returns back to Ian.
—-
Her eyes move back to George briefly, Jane isn't sure what exactly he said amid all the sound, but as she turns back to Ali she remarks "I'll have to check him out sometime, see if all's well. Building next t9o ours burnt down a few days back, I got lucky. Cleaning crew was able to clean smoke particles off of everything quicker than expected."
—-
"Nah - I'm goin' upstairs for a bit - I'll be back down in a couple. I need to talk to the doorguys anyway." Ali takes a breath, and leans up to actually give a quick hug to the musician. "Thanks. And I'm glad you're okay - you'll … uh. Yeah. I hope you'll tell me the story later?" Tiredness nearly has her slip, but her grin is warm anyway. And with that, she retreats, heading for the stage edge and ultimately to the stairs beyond, and the 'cabin' above.
—-
She returns the hug and walks with Ali wherever she's heading, thereby fading into the background. Jane will share that story another time, right now it's about quiet and escaping the presence of unacceptable non-rock music.