12405/It's a Match!

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It's a Match!
Date of Scene: 02 November 2020
Location: Uncanny Valley, Stark Tower
Synopsis: Booze! Action! Merkins?
Cast of Characters: Iron Man, Ivory, Winter Soldier, Storm, Psylocke




Iron Man has posed:
PLACE: Uncanny Valley. Official Bar/Lounge of Stark Tower

TIME: Happy Hour...

"Wow, now that you mention it, I guess I really DO have a tendency to deflect emotional inquiries with humorous one-liners. You're very insightful..."

There have been many renovations since Stark Tower reopened, but none have been a bigger hit with the employees than The Uncanny Valley Lounge. Slick futuristic ambiance, a floorplan optimized for both mingling and relaxation, and just the right amount of lighting from the XED lamps and neon plasma displays. Cold stainless steel is contrasted against warm stonework, calming plantlife and organically-placed works of abstract art.

But by far the most popular element of the bar is the fully robotic staff. Slinky waitbots mosey unobtrusively throughout the space, the brightly-colored plastic paneling of their nearly human bodies shining against the bar's ambient lighting. Each is unique, with a distinctive look, voice, and coded personality. Yet all of them have been programmed to be accomodating and efficient, giving every customer the feeling that they're the most important organic in the place.

The barbots are convivial and personable, mixing in interesting conversation with highly efficient mixology.

Virtually unseen, the sanobots keep everything immaculate, often cleaning up messes before anyone realizes that they've been caused.

And back in the kitchen, a literal assembly line of fully-automated cooks can produce virtually any requested dish or item from base components in under four minutes.

Normally, the place is semi-full of Stark employees, and it's not abnormal to see the Hot Chicks from the Eighteenth Floor doing shots with the absolute party animals from the Applied Cryogenetics Division. But today, the ratio of Highly Attractive People seems to be way out of whack, even for the sort of futuristic meat market that would exist in a building that Tony Stark owns.

Speaking of everyone's favorite philanthropist, he's currently up at the bar, holding a scotch (on the rocks) and chatting with a tall, red-haired woman in sensible heels and a flattering, but unglamorous dress. She's thin, with good cheek bones, and appears to be about forty. She definitely doesn't remind Tony Stark of anyone that he used to date... but he seems to be pretty into her at the moment.

"Man, it feels so good to have someone that I can talk to about myself with. It's hard to believe that there's a woman out there who's as giving as 'I' am..."

Up front, The Hostess greets any people who come in. The Hostess is shaped like a female, albeit exaggeratedly so, with luminescent eyes and a sultry Southern accent. Programmed for Maximum Customer Service, she's able to sort people out, and place them exactly where her algorithm dictates is the best place in the bar for them.

Ivory has posed:
    Who's the one in white with the cat hairband? Well, according to their Cape & Dater profile, they're Catlover. Were they matched to someone here, and who might that be? Hard to tell, but they had used the app to get into the event, their thick winter jacket with the cat pawing after a snowflake dropped off at the wardrobe, instead showing off a T-shirt with a blue persian cat chasing a yarnball around.

They had given the exaggerated gynoid at the entry a careful look as they were seated, waiting, but then started to scan their phone now and again, eying the icons in the Cloak and Dater app appear and vanish, indicating the people in closer proximity. Was there a date they looked for or were they on the hunt for someone that didn't found theirs? Or just watching? Who knew, but the cat ears did at times seem to twitch.

Winter Soldier has posed:
    This is roughly the time that James Buchanan Barnes, bachelor, walks into the bar. Dressed, for once, not in his usual outfit of jeans and leather jacket, or armored bodysuit with the conveniently truncated sleeve for his metal arm... no, today he's clad somewhat strangely. He's wearing a suit. An expensive suit. A suit, in fact, that has been custom tailored for him a short while ago after a certain adventure with a certain Billionaire philanthropist, and which until now he had never deigned to wear.

    Makes him look good though. Dapper is the word probably best equipped to describe his current appearance.

    And yet as he comes in, he nods politely at the hostess and walks on, glancing at his phone for just a moment. It had to be a lure of some kind. Just... had to be. There is no way he'd make an account on this sort of app, let alone find someone into art, jazz /and/ precision weaponry. The interests, in his experience, don't overlap.

    And yet...

    Jessica is supposed to be waiting here for him, in a classic red cocktail dress with a rose corsage. He can, in fact, see her in the reflection of one of the many glass surfaces around the bar, and blinks for a moment. Definitely, absolutely a lure. Must be...

    So he does the ungentlemanly thing, leaves his date waiting for now, and instead bears down on the usual source of his more unusual problems. "Tony, if this is a joke... I swear I'll..."

    Yeah. It's that kind of moment. Can't even bring himself to properly finish a friendly threat.

Storm has posed:
    Ro wasn't exactly into this sort of thing, but at the pushing of a few of her more tech savvy students? She caved. They all signed a contract stating that if Storm went? They would put more effort into their studies across the board.

    Stepping into the bar, wearing a simple pale blue dress that seemed molded to her upper body and flowed more like liquid around her legs for the skirt. White hair brushed out and left down her back as she looked around the bar and then back down to her phone. Ideal Entity, huh? This, at the very least, should be amusing. Moving with all the grace of an actual Goddess, she moved to the bar and gave the man behind it a charming smile. "Water, please."

Psylocke has posed:
Betsy Braddock arrives, giving the room a once over. In the process, she gets the lay-of-the-land, so to speak. Her mental shields are up but she's remaining hyper aware.

She certainly didn't sign up for a dating app. The things in the profile didn't even reflect her likes in the least. So whoever had done it, they had done so without knowing her very well. So why was she here? Because someone wanted her here and she was never one to disappoint in a well laid trap.

At the entrance, she paused to pass over her coat, revealing the form fitting little black dress. It fell to about mid thigh and was strapless. It was paired with strappy heels in the same color. They gave her about a five inch lift. Her dark purple hair was down, falling down her back and reflecting the light, making it seem a blend of black and purple at times. She followed the hostess' directions, ending up at a table not far from the bar, where she settled in.

Once there, it was a matter of waiting for everything to go to hell in a handbasket. Since she trusted it would. She was using a touch of telepathy, something that was routine for her. It basically altered perceptions so the tattoo on her face was not visible. "Whiskey neat, please," she asked the serverbot when it arrived. She didn't look at her phone, unlike many of the people here were doing while trying to find their dates.

Iron Man has posed:
"Daaaaayum! Lookin' sharp, Jimmy!" The source of everyone's unusual problems polishes off his glass of scotch. Probably not his first, since Happy Hour started like fifteen minutes ago, but who knows? He's been pretty wrapped up in conversation this whole time, so maybe he hasn't had time to really get his day drinking on Stark Style.

The 'Man' behind the bar has an Ironic Handlebar Mustache, made of actual handlebars. From a vintage Honda. A 70's CB-450, to those who know their vintage Honda...

The Handlebar Mustache Bartender quickly prepares the lady's drink. It's not much of a challenge to pour water out of his robotic nozzlefinger into an exquisite crystal glass. He hands the glass to Ms. Munroe with slightly more flourish than would really be considered 'efficient.' Just like he was programmed to.

"No charge! And might I say that you're looking especially organic this evening, Sentient!"

The waitbot takes Ms. Braddock's order, and shimmies away to the bar to get it for her. As she didn't specify a brand, it looks as if she's getting something from the Suntory family. Japanese whiskey is hot right now, after all.

"Dude... Jimmy! You've gotta meet my new... uh... this is my..." Tony fumbles awkwardly around the term, but plays it safe. "This is Poppy. She works in HR, and she's an Amaaaaazing listener!"

'Poppy' grins a bit sheepishly, and takes a sip from her martini. With a lot of olives.

"You're just so easy to listen to, Tony. Your conversational skills are really underappreciated."

Tony's cheeks redden a bit.

"You know, you're right, babe!"

One of the waitbots approaches the table with the Cat Lover. This one's wearing an actual cowboy hat, but has a French accent for some reason. Somebody has a sense of humor, maybe.

"Bonjour, Sentient! How may we serve you, mais oui?"

Ivory has posed:
    The white haired arrival does catch Ivory's eyes, and they do look for the matching icon on the people close. Looking for a date or just to see who they were? Or just confirming something?

    Then, the Waitbot arrives, eyes moving over. "How about the answers to a few questions, how does that sound? And the menu of course. Are you lying? Do you plan to subjugate mankind and what's the name of the blonde at the bar? The platinum one." There's a little chuckle playing their lips.

Winter Soldier has posed:
    There are things off here to the point where Bucky isn't entirely certain if he's not in some kind of alternate dimension. But manners are manners, and he nods politely at 'Poppy', with a rare smile. "A pleasure to meet you, miss."

    Knowing when he's the fifth wheel, and convinced he's not going to get anything useful out of his friend, James politely makes his exit and heads for the bar instead, leaning over to the bartender to put in his order (scotch), and incline his head to the table where 'Jessica' is currently seated, waiting for her date. "And whatever the lady is having, delivered to her table with my compliments".

    Because trap or not... he's going to be a gentleman about this.

Storm has posed:
    Storm took a sip of her water and glanced around at those gathered. Only to see a few faces she actually recognized. Upon seeing Tony Stark, she groaned and touched her fingers to her forehead, eyes closing. She knew him by reputation and by the few times he and the X-Men had worked together. They'd never formally met but she knew he drove most of her team up the wall. It seemed like he'd made friends already as well.

    She watches the 'waitbot' pour her drink with a flourish and raises an eyebrow at the compliment. It was the first time that she'd been called 'organic', but she decided to simply nod her head.

    Ororo was surprised to see Betsy walk through the doors and gave the woman a wry sort of smile. A simple hand signal that told the woman that she was on high alert to this whole thing that she didn't trust. She didn't trust it because she definitely did not sign up for a dating app. Storm didn't have time for such things. Glancing over to James when he peeled away from Stark. "I have something of a suspicion that this is his doing. Am I far off the mark, you think?" Ro considered fleeing to Betsy's table, but she had given her word that she would give this an honest try to her students. So, she simply held out her hand to Bucky, "Ororo Munroe." Why not make a new friend?

Psylocke has posed:
The hair was the thing that drew her eye. Betsy saw those pale locks and glanced, finding her teammate present. Now that was quite the surprise. An arch of a brow then she received the motion. Being teammates, they had learned to read each other. In times without telepathy, they had their own physical ways to communicate and maintain silence.

As the whiskey arrived, something she had presumed would be top shelf since she didn't give a brand and was not disappointed, she declined any food order for the time being. She smiled as she saw the gentleman approach Ororo, taking a second sip of her whiskey before placing it back atop the table. She kept her fingers curled around the glass, short nails tapping idly against the glass.

Iron Man has posed:
As Bucky heads off, Tony is able to give his date his undivided attention. It's easy to give someone your undivided attention when you're talking about yourself, after all.

"... so that's when I realized that the problem with the factory is all the human labor. I've been trying my hardest to eliminate it ever since. But people just don't understand that when you're a job creator, sometimes you actually have to eliminate a few jobs, paradoxically."

Finishing up her martini, 'Poppy' places a slender, well-manicured hand on Tony's shoulder. Her voice is demure, but cheeful. "Gosh! That's so interesting! Speaking of maximizing production efficiency... you said that you went to summer camp once, right? Tell me all about that."

All through the bar, people seem to be finding people to interact with. People who just seem to 'get' them, you know? Even Joe from Accounting has found a woman who appreciates reruns of Hogan's Heroes as much as he does.

They stopped talking about Hogan's Heroes a while ago, and started making out instead.

The electronic music in the Uncanny Valley provides a pulsing undercurrent, but at a decibel level that also allows for easy talking. Some sort of sonic trickery, no doubt. The robots can do things like that.

All in all, most people seem to be having a good time, with nothing sinister whatsoever happening.

Nothing suspicious at all.

Joe from Accounting and his date have slipped out of the bar though. Good for them, right?

Ivory has posed:
Ivory sighed a little as the snow haired seeemed to be taken in a discussion with the suit that had come from somewhere. Who was that guy to steal their chance? But at least the robot waiter didn't start to cook itself about the question of the lie paradox and if it was planning world domination. "Too bad that you don't know, how about you deliver them a Tequila sunrise from me?"

Winter Soldier has posed:
    "I thought so to, ma'am, but now... I'm not so sure." Bucky smiles to Ororo, taking his Scotch from the bottender and seeming to forget all about 'Jessica' for a moment. The whole place just screams artifice, even if it fairly closely resembles his idea of 'the future' from way back when. Wasn't this always the dream?

    No. Pretty sure there were books written about this sort of thing, warning mankind of the dangers of artificial intelligence.

    James takes the hand and bows over it, so old-fashioned that it has come back in style some time ago, fallen out of fashion once more and was probably soon to make a comeback. "James Barnes. I wouldn't quite call myself a friend of Tony, but... well, I suppose I would, after a fashion." Some fashion that must be.

    "Pardon me for being forward, but you appear more vitally present than half of the companionship here. May I offer you a drink?" Because if 'Poppy' is anything to go by, going to talk to 'Jessica' would probably be a very bad idea.

Storm has posed:
    A glance over to the couple making out and Storm grimaced softly before turning her attention to James once more. She had the grace to blush lightly when he bowed over her hand and she inclined her head to indicate that the sentiment was accepted. "Nice to meet you, James. Please, call me Ro. I know my name can be tricky to those unused to it."

    His comment about being friends with Tony Stark had her chuckling softly. "He is rather known for being something of a handful." Though, she noted with amusement sent towards Betsy that Poppy seemed to have him well enough in hand, since she seemed content encouraging his favorite subject; himself.

    "Ah, yes, the...bartender said I was looking particularly organic this evening. You may, I'll have a-" Like magic, a tequila sunrise was placed in front of her and the bar'man' gestured over to the white haired woman sitting at a table. "It seems as though someone has beaten you to the chase, James." Ro bowed her head in thanks to Ivory and lifted the drink to sip.

    -Betsy, send help. I am awful at these kind of things.-

Psylocke has posed:
For Ororo alone, there was the sound of Betsy's laughter. Shared mentally through a telepathic touch of minds. <<You seem to be doing quite well. Relax and enjoy the conversation. Perhaps you could make a new...friend.>>

There is more amusement as she carefully chooses the last word, the emotion able to be felt along with the words Ororo hears.

To the rest of the room, there is no vocalization from Betsy. She remains there at her table, sipping her drink from time the time. She does pull out her phone, holding it in front of her as a playful smile appears on her lips. Must be something she's reading, right?

Iron Man has posed:
As Tony and his Ideal Entity chat and consume alcohol, the robotic waitstaff works tirelessly to keep everything running smoothly. It's not uncommon for an organic being to have a new drink in their hand before they've realized that the old one was almost finished, or for two complete strangers to be herded toward the dance floor at Exactly the Same Time.

They're miracle workers, those robots.

Out on said dance floor, a small orange cat wearing a gigantic metal collar is currently dancing with one of the girls from the Eighteenth Floor, and two of the tech bros from the IT Department have just realized that although they've sat across from each other for ten years, they've never really looked at each others eyes before.

As the waitbot heads off to put in Ivory's order, the bartender has already started to make it. Now that's efficiency for you, courtesy of wifi, which... isn't exactly a new technology, but it really puts the whole 'putting in orders' thing that conventional restaurants do to shame.

Handing Tony a new glass of scotch, after taking it away from the waitbot, Not Pepper sidles up to her date and leans in to talk more intimately.

"Wow. That must have been so embarrassing! Thank you for trusting me with that story..."

Tony takes a sip from his glass, looking very unburdened now that he's finally told that story to someone. "I just feel like I can tell you EVERYTHING, Poppy. Everything... even..."

Helpfully, Poppy suggests "Even your social security number?"

Tony looks a bit awkward suddenly, rubbing the back of his own neck with his hand and looking away. "Actually, uh... funny story. I don't really know what that is."

Poppy continues to smile, but something troubling seems to be brewing behind her eyes.

"But Tony... that does not compute."

Winter Soldier has posed:
    When the tequila arrives, James looks a bit uncertain for a moment, and then turns to see who might have ordered it. Ah... when he sees Ivory, there is a moment of confusion and then one of sudden understanding, his smile going just a bit wider. Modern times... he has to remember these are modern times, and these things happen. Right, no problem. "It sure looks that way, Ro. Well, far be it from me to stand in the..."

    And just then, his own tequila sunrise arrives. Ah. Well now...

    "I think that, maybe, we should accept the invitation. Call me a coward, but I suddenly don't trust my original date anymore, and I'd rather make sure nothing untoward is going on." His original scotch is downed in a single gulp, a poor treatment for so fine a blend, but that leaves him free to accept the tequila as his main beverage. Gallantly, he sweeps his left arm towards Ivory's table, inviting Ororo to follow him there. "

Storm has posed:
    -That is decidedly not helpful.-

    Storm shot a glance to the purple-haired woman smiling at her phone and shook her head, wearing her own smile as she glances to James and takes another sip of her new drink. STorm rose up from the stood she'd perched herself on and nodded her head at his gesture for her to follow to the other snow-haired woman's table.

    While she had been smiles and rather enjoying herself, not once had Ororo let down her guard. It simply wasn't in her nature to relax fully anywhere but her attic. "I would not call you a coward. I admit to being a touch unsettled myself." In a rather old fashioned move, she took up Bucky's arm. As tradition merits, the right arm is left free and she has claimed the left. However, if Ro seems alarmed or even surprised by the lack of give that would come with a metal limb? She is far better at covering it up than most.

    Instead, her fingers spread to confirm the limb to be something otehr than flesh before she lets Bucky lead.

    -Betsy, do you have a bad feeling about this?-

Psylocke has posed:
<<Most definitely.>>

The mental response is immediate as Betsy continues to flick through her phone, looking at information and details. She'd pulled up the 'You're A Winner' email about this event, glancing at the information there and her profile that is linked with it.

<<Considering I have never joined a dating app. Even in my adventurous days.>> Like those ever went away? <<To have won a contest I never entered from an app I never joined is too coincidental. Additionally, the many perfect matches going on around us is mathematically improbable.>>

She considers, glancing up in surprise as the serverbot delivers a fresh whiskey to her before continuing off to take care of other customers. <<I believe it is time for some rudeness on my part. I'll take a peek.>>

And with that, she lowers those mental barriers and reaches out for the minds around her, trying to get a feel for the room and the people in it. Not deep probing minds, just a general atmosphere of surface thoughts.

Iron Man has posed:
"No, I know it sounds weird. It's kind of a funny story though... I used to have someone who sort of like... assisted me with things like that. You know, as a job creator, I just don't have the time for... rote memorization, or scheduling, or taking out the trash. But anyway, she knows my sosh, but I'd have to call her to find out what it is... and that'd be awkward."

This development does not seem to please Poppy, though whether this is because of jealousy or some other reason is completely impossible for us to tell.

Impossible for us to tell, but not impossible for Betsy to tell, apparently...

Tony's date seems to be thinking almost exclusively about Tony. Such singleminded obsessiveness is certainly the mark of a truly great personal assistant, or a total boss at customer service. However, it is also not a normally-occuring phenomenon, even regarding such an obvious catch as Tony Stark. However, beneath the surface thoughts, she seems to be operating from a compulsive set of instructions, as if she's being driven somehow to get as much information out of Tony as she possibly can.

Tony, on the other hand, has thoughts that are going in dozens of different directions at once. It seems as if the only thing glueing his disparate thoughts together are a strong sense of entitlement and a generous helping of very explensive single malt.

<<Man... this is nice. If only Pepper could see me now. True, this girl is nothing like Pepper. Bigger boobs, for starters. Like that girl I met in Cabo. Is that where I got the funding for the reactor factory in Des Moines? No, wait, that was the time that I got attacked by those HYDRA guys who wanted me to build them a better flamethrower. I'm getting thirsty, why hasn't she gotten me another drink yet? Pepper would already have that shit poured. Come to think of it, there's something kind of eerie about this girl. I can't quite place it though...>>

Tony clinks the ice cubes around in his otherwise empty glass. Poppy doesn't get the hint, but the waitbots do.

<<Oh... I know what it is... her boobs are fake. Well screw this then, I'm going to Des Moines.>>

The robots aren't thinking much of anything.

Winter Soldier has posed:
    He should have expected it, but gallantry came back to bite him. To his credit, Bucky's smile doesn't fade when Ororo takes his metal arm and guides his impromptu date to the table. He is, in fact, not going to bring up the topic at all, instead inclining his head as the pair arrives by Ivory. "Mind if we joined you?"

Storm has posed:
    -I sometimes wish I had the time for such things, but I do not. I did not sign up for the application either. Once I saw Tony Stark, I had assumed this to be some joke. Yet that does not seem to be the case.-

    Storm was also not going to draw attention to the fact. It would be uncouth to do so and she had only just met him. Though, she had to admit to herself...and to Betsy, that the construction of the arm was incredible.

    Ro turned and kept Betsy in her peripheral for any signs that something was awry. She didn't know the training of anyone else, so if her gut feeling was to be proven correct? She would need to make sure that neither James nor Ivory came to any harm. Subtly, Storm toed off the fancy heels she was wearing and nudged them beneath the low table cloth of Ivory's table. She would want to be able to move comfortably.

Psylocke has posed:
<<That was...interesting.>>

That word does not sound pleasant the way Betsy says it mentally. She glances around the room, a bored glance. Or so it seems. Then back to her phone.

<<Half the people in the room are like us. Many are actually on the app and taking it at face value. Some are as uncomfortable with the situation as we are.>>

She flicks a gaze toward Bucky then over to Tony. <<The companions that are so perfect seem intent on gathering information. As much as possible. About the people they are paired with. For example, Mr. Stark's companion, Poppy, seems almost to the point of being obsessed. As are half the people here.>>

Iron Man has posed:
"Hey uh... Poppy. I just remembered something I gotta go tell my boy Jimmy. Be back in a second!"

Tony sets his glass down on the bar, where it's almost instantaneously picked up by some robot or another. As he begins disentangling himself from his date, her brow furrows, and she seems to be genuinely disturbed.

"Is something wrong, Tony? You were about to tell me about your creative process..."

Backing up a bit further, Tony gives his date his best used spaceship salesman smile. The one that got him the funds for the factory in Des Moines.

"Oh no no no... nothing's the matter babe. Just gotta tell Jimmy something real fast, and then I'll be right back. We can head up to my penthouse and find the stash of Viagara I keep next to the hot tub."

Brow still furrowed, Poppy watches Tony the entire time that he backs away from her, and walks across the bar over toward the table where Ivory has been collecting everyone.

"Hey... guys. How's it going?" Leaning into the personal space of everyone at the table, Tony looks kind of like the smallest puppy trying to worm his way in to the food bowl.

"Everyone just smile, count to thirteen, and then laugh." Still smiling, but looking a bit panicked around the eye area, Tony quickly unburdens himself for the second time this evening.

"I think that we might have a problem. I'm sure you all noticed that this girl is really into me, and you probably thought 'Well hey, what else is new? The ladies love Tony Stark, it's all over Buzzfeed.' By the way, hey ladies, I'm Tony Stark."

Tony pauses briefly, but still has a few seconds until the countdown reaches thirteen.

"Anyway, this isn't like... normal being into me. I'm used to that, very familiar with what that looks like on a woman. This... this is something else. I think I might have a Stage Five Clinger."

The air is pregnant with ominous meaning as he says these words.

Winter Soldier has posed:
    Smile and nod, nod and smile. James is suddenly Tony's best friend, having played this ploy several times for several different people, usually in a pub in London before the Blitz, a cafe in France after Overlord or a Gasthaus nearer the Siegfried line. The Howling Commandos might not have been the most attractive of the GI's coming through the continent, but these situations had nevertheless been quite common.

    The mundane situation that is, not the whole 'creepy robot backdrop and eerily perfect people' situation. That one's new and, Bucky thinks wryly to himself, once again involves a Stark.

    He's always having to rescue a Stark...

    But on the count of thirteen, he laughs on cue and even slaps Tony on the shoulder with his right hand... perhaps slightly harder than necessary, but hey...

    "It's worse than that buddy..." he continues with that same easy going smile and offhand tone usually employed by those who've just shared a good joke. "There's dozens like her in here, and I'm pretty sure the rest of us never entered a competition to win a date. Your house, your call, but I'd start looking for the exterminators."

    Then, gallantry intervenes, and he motions to Ororo. "May I introduce you to Ororo Munroe? As charming a lady as you will ever find."

Storm has posed:
    Storm glanced down at her phone and the dating app to see who produced the app itself. She quickly uninstalled the damn thing and made a note to get a new phone when all was said and done with this. She may not have reacted to Bucky's arm, but Betsy's mental communication brought a slight frown to her features. Information was a constantly sought after currency.

    -The app is made by one of Stark's companies. It does not seem plausible that even trained agents could be this focused. Do you think that they have been programmed, so to speak?-

    This was, of course, until Tony came over himself. "You are correct, Mr. Stark. They are obsessed with information gathering. All of the companions are." Said calmly, even taking a sip of her drink as if nothing in the world is the matter. She keeps the link open with Betsy so the woman in able to take in everything Tony just said.

    When the countdown hit, Ro laughed softly and set her drink down. Storm didn't even bother to be amused or disgusted by Tony's ego. It was it's own creature and could not be contended with. "Betsy? Could you please give the suggestion to everyone not obsessed the urge to leave and then join us? This needs to be shut down." It was said companionably to James, though it didn't take a genius to figure out that Ro was talking to someone else. "And then I suggest we also take our leave. Neither I or my friend even downloaded this app and yet we won a contest? Whomever is seeking information wants it from specific people. We are being lured."

    She glances to Bucky and smiles a bit, a soft genuine thing. "I am acquainted, somewhat, to Mr. Stark. He has worked with my team a few times now but thank you." It was a gentlemanly thing and well done. Bucky had officially earned points in Ro's mind.

Psylocke has posed:
<<As you wish.>> This time the British voice is more business like. Now that there is some form of action, Betsy is ready and on the spot. Somewhere deep inside, there is that hope that this goes awry. That things get physical. The adrenaline junkie in her craves it even while the more sensible side is telling her to try to avoid such things. Danger was not supposed to be a draw.

She reached out with her mind. It was going to take some concentration but she should be able to handle a room this size, even with this many people. Part of the trick was needing to keep up the illusion on her appearance, at least for some of the people.

Her power reaches out, touching the minds. Those who are being milked for information are given a little nudge, mentally speaking. A sudden thought or urge to leave. Remember the iron was on or something. Added with the definitive statement to not take their lovely new friends /with/ them. That would be terrible for them to see! No, they must stay at the party while the marks are told to vacate.

More touchs, this more for the companions. Just a hint of compulsion to not press their targets for four seconds. Enough time for those people to disengage and make a hasty retreat.

All barring any of these people being resistant to telepathy. She rises to her feet, taking her drink and moving toward the table shared by the others. They will be able to see her. The red triangular shaped tattoo over one eye. The purple butterfly glow around her eyes, showing she is using her telepathy actively for thats that understand what it means.

"I'm so sorry to intrude, I thought that was you," she said loudly enough to be heard, as she gives Ororo a smile before settling in to more quiet conversation with them. Her expressions didn't match her words, this seeming like a social call. "I can make this more intrusive on them if it becomes necessary but trying for suggestion first."

Iron Man has posed:
"I knew it was too good to be true. For a while there they even had me fooled, but now that I know, I can't unsee it."

Tony looks a bit sad, as if something he was greatly looking forward to has been taken away from him. He looks back at the girl who's waiting at the bar, staring a hole into his back.

"They're definitely fake. Look at the way they hang. Actually... that girl has fake ones too. And... that one... and... hang on..."

Tony's face goes as white as a sheet, as he begins backing away from their table, and making his way toward the bar's exit.

Around the bar, people start acting as if they're waking up from some sort of stupor. The normal people are starting to back away from their dates, making excuses, and making their way toward the exits.

It's cool, the robots already have their credit card information, so it's not really a dine and dash.

As for the 'companions', they just sort... continue to act pleasant. Even as their dates are leaving, they make no move to attack or try anything more aggressive than simply pleading for their dates to stay. It's actually kind of sad to watch. Whoever they are, they're pretty convincing, if you don't have Tony's eye for detail...

"They're all fake! Silicone! All of them! Let's get out of here!"

Suddenly, he turns and runs out of the bar, and out into the lobby, leaving a lot of confused people behind, roughly half of whom seem to have had some sort of work done.

Nobody could be that perfect, naturally.

But what did we learn, really?

Winter Soldier has posed:
    A polite nod to Betsy, and then Bucky stands, moving to the back of Ororo's chair to be the gentleman and pull it out for her as she stands. "Not to be that guy, but... I know a bar where people aren't brainwashed mannikins and..." Halt. No. Wait. Honesty is knocking on the door.

    "Most people there aren't brainwashed mannikins... Shall we?"

Storm has posed:
    Storm just watches Tony Stark, Ironman, go running from fake boobs and lets out a slow sigh. "He is never allowed at the school. Ever. I do not care how many students beg." She stood when James pulled out her chair and blinked at the offer, clearly she hadn't been expecting that. Glancing to Betsy and then back to Bucky before smiling and nodding.

    "I would hate to ruin a perfectly nice evening. Mystery and intrigue abound. Hank is going to be jealous." Sliding her heels back out and slipping into them in a practised motion before claiming Bucky's left arm again. "We shall."