Shake Your Pom-Pom [OPEN TO ALL] [R for Poss. Language]

[cardsharkgambit.livejournal.com]

In the corner of one of the sensoriums, the meatship's resident Cajun stood at a table rotating a glass of half-drunk bourbon with his fingers. The loud thump of bass echoed throughout the room and even, perhaps, beyond into the hallway where it might attract passersby. When Gambit, bored out of his mind with nothing to do, had asked for a nightclub, he hadn't expected it to be so complete. The room was dark, the bar and lounge area lighted with low blue lights, while strobes flashed violently over the dance floor which was full of gyrating bodies. Hell, it even came with it's own cigarette smoke-filled air--although it, like the 'alcoholic' drinks--wasn't the slightest bit harmful.

It was the epitome of 'just a good time', complete with the lack of consequences that were likely to kick some in the butt in the morning if it'd all been real.

"Now dis what Gambit call a good time," he noted aloud, lifting his drink to his lips.


[OOC: That's right. It's a club. Don't feel that you have to reply to Gamibt. Treat this kinda like the meet-n-greets. Just throw up a subthread--or tag into one--with your character dancing, drinking, playing pool, darts, whatever and have fun with them. Just look at this as one big CR opportunity!!]

Comments

[sniff-my-dust.livejournal.com]

Music.

Megan Gwynn heard music. It wasn't Dazzler, unfortunately, but it was music.

It had been awhile since the X-Man known as Pixie had heard good music.

So, naturally, the pink-and-black haired teenager finds herself in one of the sensoriums...except instead of seeing the sensorium...she sees a bar.

"Well," she says, flitting in and crossing her arms around herself. "This is new. Not that Wolverine or Cyclops would agree with my being in here..." A smile tugs on the corner of her lips. "Thank god they're not here to stop me."

[cardsharkgambit.livejournal.com]

Gambit was sitting by himself, enjoying the atmosphere when he heard someone mention two incredibly familiar names. Quirking a brow, he glanced over at the new--short--arrival. "Wolverine and Cyclops," he repeated the names back to her. "How you know Logan and Cyke, petite?"

[sniff-my-dust.livejournal.com]

Pixie's attention is snapped to the man with the dark eyes. She grins at him then, pleased to see a face that's at least vaguely familiar, if not one she's spent all that much time with. "Well, one used to be headmaster of my school and the other used to train me in the Danger Room. Still does, sometimes." She flits on over to him and takes a seat next to Gambit. "Most of the people at the Mansion call me Pixie." She holds out her hand to Remy. "It's a pleasure, Mr. Gambit-sir."

[cardsharkgambit.livejournal.com]

All right, well color him confused. In all his time at the Mansion, Remy never recalled seeing her there. Ever. Sure, there were a lot of kids there, but there was no way he wouldn't have remembered her. The pink hair and wings were a little hard to miss.

Then, Gambit's brow creased in utter bewilderment that this young thing knew who he was while he had no memory of ever meeting her. Then again, who was he kidding. Everybody knew who Gambit was. Especially the ladies. The expression quickly faded.

"De pleasure is mon, petite," he answered with a wink. "Now how you say you know Gambit from? Coz I don't recall ever seein' you 'round de Mansion."

[sniff-my-dust.livejournal.com]

"..."

Pixie's bright smile faded just a little and her wings drooped just a tiny bit. Well...that wasn't good.

"Umm. Hold on." She turned to the bartender. "Hit me with your strongest lemon-lime soda." Turning back to Gambit, she raised an eyebrow. "...what's the last thing you remember about home?"

[cardsharkgambit.livejournal.com]

"De last ting Gambit remember? Mon dieu," he said, scratching his head. The last thing he wanted to do was talk about was what he was doing right before he woke up on board the ship. But, from her tone it seemed that this girl might just be from the future like some of the others, which meant she probably knew about it anyway. "...uh, de last ting I remember is gettin' left in Antarctica."

[spacecowboyjim.livejournal.com]

The rhythmic pounding was what attracted Jim Raynor to the sensorium area in the first place, but as soon as the portal dilated open ... he knew that smell. The sweet fragrance of a good pack of smokes. True, he hadn't been having the physical cravings that'd normally kick in after going so long without a smoke, but there was nothing like the taste of a good cigarillo.

So he entered, hoping that perhaps whoever was inside might be able to oblige a tired old soldier. Hey, whoever it was, they had good taste.

[ford-sawyer-815.livejournal.com]

(http://s225.photobucket.com/albums/dd304/mysterio2000/sawyer/?action=view&current=sawyer30.png)

With a little glance to the left, Jim might just find another Jim--Sawyer--sitting at a table by himself with a big pitcher of beer in front of him, a fat Cuban cigar in his teeth, and shuffling a deck of cards. Sure, he was the only person on the ship with his own stash of both cigarettes and liquor, but he nonetheless found himself here.

[spacecowboyjim.livejournal.com]

Cards, smokes, and booze? Other Jim, you're speaking Raynor's language here.

He walked over to the table, pulling a chair out and sliding into it. "Hope you ain't plannin' on playing Solitaire, friend."

[ford-sawyer-815.livejournal.com]

(http://s225.photobucket.com/albums/dd304/mysterio2000/sawyer/?action=view&current=sawyer30.png)

"I don't play with myself, pal," Sawyer replied, motioning for Raynor to take the empty seat across from him.

[spacecowboyjim.livejournal.com]

And the soldier complies, slipping into the chair, leaning back with an arm over the backing. "Mind tellin' me where a fella could pick up a drink and one of those cigars?"

[ford-sawyer-815.livejournal.com]

(http://s225.photobucket.com/albums/dd304/mysterio2000/sawyer/?action=view&current=lost4x040017.png)

Just as the words left Raynor's mouth, a thin blond waitress wearing a short skirt and a halter approached the table and set down a second pitcher of beer and a glass for Raynor, along with his own box of cigars and a lighter. Then, smiling, she turned and left the two Jim's to their own devices.

"Nice place they got here, eh?" Sawyer smiled, puffing on his cigar as he shuffled the deck again.

[thenameissam.livejournal.com]

(http://s225.photobucket.com/albums/dd304/mysterio2000/Sam%20Winchester/?action=view&current=Supernatural-supernatural-142172-2.jpg)

Sam found his way into the sensorium-turned-nightclub rather quickly and had made his way over to the bar and was, by now, sitting alone on one of the bar stools with his hand wrapped around a bottle of Sam Adams. While it wasn't getting him drunk--unfortunately--it did still give him a sense of relief, allowing him to basically drink away all the things that plagued his mind.

He didn't want to think the things that he thought. He didn't want to feel the things that he felt. And if sitting in a dark, smoky club and drinking fake beer made him feel better--like he hoped it would--then that was enough for him.

[deputyjo.livejournal.com]

Jo too had found her way into the Sensorium Nightclub. She didn't get a chance to hit the bars very often - mainly becuase Eureka didn't have one.

Not that she was complaining! The thought of any of the scientists getting drunk did not sound very pleasant... And she was sure the world would appreciate the lack of a bar is Eureka.

She climbs up onto a barstool next to Sam and orders a Corona before looking over at him. "Dude who killed your dog?"

[thenameissam.livejournal.com]

(http://s225.photobucket.com/albums/dd304/mysterio2000/Sam%20Winchester/?action=view&current=tats10.png)

Sam jumped slightly, a little startled at the unexpected arrival of Jo--one of his Echo teammates--on the bar stool next to him. "No one," he answered with a weak shrug. "Just, ya know, haven't had a very good past week or so. Actually, better make that a past few months."

[deputyjo.livejournal.com]

"Yeah.." Jo says with a weird look. "I don't think much anyone has had a great couple of weeks. The whole getting kidnapped by a spaceship kinda puts the damper on things, y'know?"

She takes a sip from the Corona that's been placed in front of her. "So what's the problem exactly? Girls? Stuff like that? Stuff not like that?"

[thenameissam.livejournal.com]

(http://s225.photobucket.com/albums/dd304/mysterio2000/Sam%20Winchester/?action=view&current=tats7.png)

"No, not exactly," Sam answered, shaking his head as he took another drink. "Girls I can handle. I know how to deal with them. Girls are easy. At least, in comparison."

[smegging-hell.livejournal.com]

This is Lister's first time in the Sensoriums. And currently, he is as happy as a pig in mud, pool cue in one hand, pint of lager in the other, leaning on a pool table which is currently devoid of any red balls, holding only the full complement of yellow, and the lone black.

"You're getting grannyed," Lister taunts the opponent that Stacey has dragged up out of his mind. "Totally out of your league man, I'm totally out of your league. You're steam rollered."

Mr Cinzano Bianco is in the house.

[re-hymenated.livejournal.com]

"You're not too bad at the whole pool thing, kiddo," Dean speaks up from his spot against the wall, watching the match with a grin. This is the first time Dean's been out and doing anything in a while, so he's mostly been lurking.

Not that not knowing people has ever stopped him from having fun before.

[smegging-hell.livejournal.com]

"Not too bad?" Lister asks, turning his head towards Dean, even as he lines up for the shot on the black. "I think you meant to say amazing,"

Lister takes the shot, hits the black, which proceeds to hit three of the cushions and stop dead in the centre of the table.

"Smeg!"

[foursleeves.livejournal.com]

Hearing the pulsating noise from the sensoriums, Peter couldn't help but cut a little loose. Which is why, if you're looking in the direction of the dancefloor, you might see him. He's the one moonwalking on the ceiling.

He probably has something to do with the Lionel Richie remix that just started playing, too.

[wendy-watson.livejournal.com]

Wendy Watson - also known as Dubbie to absolutely no one here but the Middleman, and gosh darnit, she's going to keep it that way - looks up at the ceiling, at the moonwalking Spider-Man. She tilts her head and just...watches.

Amused.

It's so much cooler than watching Tobey Maguire faux-web-sling.

[foursleeves.livejournal.com]

He adds some pelvic thrusts to the refrain of, 'Oh! What a feeling! When we're dancing on the ceiling!' before he spots Dubdub amid the simulated clientele. It wasn't hard to spot the real revellers from those Stacy had provided. For one, the fake people danced in a loop. Peter adds a shimmy just to prove he's the real deal.

[wendy-watson.livejournal.com]

Wendy grins. She hadn't been sure whether or not the Spider-Man up there had been real, but that shimmy...well, no one would program Spider-Man doing a shimmy like that.

Not a lot of people anyway.

"Having fun?!" she asks, raising her voice so that he can hopefully hear her.

[stickyboots]

"I already ate, but thanks!!" he bellows over the thrum of the music.