fandomhigh | Is Love a Tender Thing?, Wednesday, 6/12

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is love a tender thing?

Is Love a Tender Thing?, Wednesday, 6/12

"So, where's the most common place to either pick someone up or take a date?" Dojima asked impishly as they all arrived in the Danger shop. "The clubs, of course!"

"You may not think it," Romeo said. "They may not be the kinds of places you like at all. But sometime, someone will likely take you to one, and passing the night dancing is far better than spending it in a corner in a sulk."

"And if you don't like your date? Dancing does not require talking," Dojima pointed out. "Maybe you'll find a new date. Maybe you'll find a new drink! Or a new band you enjoy. In any case, going to the club is something that will probably happen to you at some point, so today, we're going to practice."

"Of course, it will not always be love with everyone you meet on a night like this," Romeo said. "Nor even on most nights. Which is why this club has some patrons who may not be as pleasant as one would hope."

He smiled, perhaps a touch sadistically. "Try to have fun anyhow."

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Put on your dancin' shoes!

Atton Rand

Frank Abagnale

George Drayton

Hanna Marin

Stacey McGill

Thomasina Coverly

Sparkle

Rapunzel

Shira

Dojima and Romeo have gotten the Danger Shop to make changing rooms for people, and there are piles and piles of fashionable clothes to choose from.

Broken fashions were still not, and would probably never be George's first choice. But, given the world he was in, he should probably keep an open mind.

Which was probably why he had pulled several options from the stacks of clothing, which he at some point intended to narrow down.

Probably. Just... not yet.

Sparkle took a moment to look through the clothing selection. And then looked down at what he was already wearing. And then looked, again, at the clothes that were set out to pick through.

...

"So, what's the matter with what I'm wearing?"

The sort of clubs that he'd managed to sneak into more or less tended to have a lot of people wearing the same ragged messes that he liked to run around in, thanks.

Get a date! Dance! Chat! Hit up the bartender who will only give you virgin copies of drinks! Fend off NPCs!

Hey, Atton knew clubs - or places like this, anyway. And hell, for Nar Shaddaa standards, this place seemed ridiculously clean and above-board.

So he had no trouble getting into it and blending in with the crowd; in fact, he might have almost started to enjoy himself...

...until he found out about the virgin drinks. "Should've known they'd dump us in a dry dungpit."

"Isn't life a dry dungpit?" asked the guy in glasses next to him. "Just one barren disappointment after another?"

"Aren't you cheerful?" Atton drawled. "I don't know about you, but I'd probably enjoy my barren disappointment if it involved actual drinks."

"Even in this intellectual wasteland?" he asked. "Please. The gender politics behind Rhianna and her music aside, even a decent gin can't save some of these people."

"What, did someone get killed over this 'Rhianna' being?" Atton asked, eyeing the guy. "Because usually it's not real politics until someone starts firing off a few shots."

"I wish, but that's my point," he said, stabbing a finger at Atton. "Everyone's so busy in their 'oh, I'm a rebel,' thing while dancing just like everyone else out on the floor, that the real revolution is laying by the wayside with no one to pick it up and fire the first shot of a post-modern society clean of preconceived sexual or gender notions."

There was a short pause on Atton's end.

"Right," he said. "Sorry, but I'm not from this galaxy. I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I know," he sighed, shaking his head. "It does feel like lightyears, doesn't it?"

"Can I buy you a drink?"

Atton was starting to wonder if the blond with the romantic notions had it out for him. "Not a chance," he said, "Go walk up someone else's loading ramp."

Charming. But then he was already mid-turn back into the crowd.

George had been quite looking forward to this part. Dancing, fashion... He was practically guaranteed to be in his element.

The trouble was, every dance he knew, was one tailored for a Weird ball, and not... this. He would not be heading directly for the dance floor, but taking an early sideline role to try and figure out what was the done thing, first.

"Excuse me, you're blocking my light," the girl next to him said, without really glancing up from her phone. "Could you not?"

Hanna was into fashion, she was outgoing, and she knew how to dance. Or at least she knew how to dance without looking silly. Clubbing as an assignment? Yeah, she could totally deal with that.

And of course, since she was cute and alone, one guy was going to dance over to her with a smug look on his face. "Hey."

"Hey," Hanna replied, nodding at the guy. She wasn't going to ignore him. That would be rude.

Frank was a pretty friendly guy, which was why he was milling about and smiling at people as he grooved a little to the music. Pfft, this place was great. What could be so wrong with the people as to ruin the whole thing?

One girl didn't smile back. Pale as milk with dark hair cascading down her corset, she swayed to the music as if she heard a beat very different from the one actually playing over the sound system. She held an incongruously bright-colored drink in one hand and squinted at Frank.

"You're ... happy," she said, in a voice that sounded on the edge of tears.

"Yeah!" Frank agreed brightly, because how could you not be? "Aren't you?"

No, Frank. Clearly not.

"No."

She was a wordy one, but eventually -- after a long pause, and a sip of her cocktail -- more words came out:

"I'd rather be in a nice cemetery."

"Ooookay," Frank said after a brief pause, still grooving along. Because he was a dork like that. "Then why are you here? None of them open this early, or...?"

The girl nodded over to a young man (http://fandomhigh.livejournal.com/3136836.html?thread=191868484#t191868484) at the bar.

"My friend wanted to come."

"Well, why don't you try to have some fun in the meantime?" he suggested. "I'll dance with you."

"Okay." She didn't sound enthused, but she did start shimmying a bit closer to him, and vaguely in time with him. "Do you like this music?"

"It's not bad," Frank said optimistically. "Not what I'm used to back home, but you can still dance to it. What do you think?"

Rapunzel had never actually been to a club before. And her eyes were wide enough that they looked like they might well fall out as she looked around, trying to absorb everything at once.

Thomasina really wasn't sure that this qualified as music. Or dancing. The fruity drinks, however, were right up her alley -- and she didn't even miss the alcohol!

"Heeeeeeeeey."

She was pretty and he was easy, so why not say hi?

"You having a good time?"

Thomasina blinked. What had he done with his hair?

"I find myself having some fun, yes," she allowed. "The music is quite different from that to which I am accustomed, but it is not unpleasant. It certainly seems to suit this variety of dancing."

If by 'dancing' one meant 'gyrating against one's fellows in a clearly obscene manner,' but she was getting slowly used to the somewhat looser standards of the present age.

She was still remarkably fond of trousers.

The guy's eyes blanked out somewhere around the fifth word, but he rallied.

"Yeah, totally," he said. "You always talk that way? All smart and shit?"

"... Yes?" At least, Thomasina thought that was the right answer; she could not fathom what 'shit' had to do with anything.

She sipped her drink again before setting it aside. "My name is Thomasina," she introduced herself. "And yours?"

They're probably dancing somewhere.

Dojima was in her element, here. She could ignore all her worries about SOLOMON and the STN-J and her forced leave while the situation got sorted out, and just enjoy one of her favorite pastimes (and her favorite cover): dancing her heart out as a spoiled club princess.

Disco inferrrrrno. Ping here if you want an NPC.

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Is Love a Tender Thing?, Wednesday, 6/12

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OOC!