Owner	Pose
Jamie Madrox	Jazz. That will fix everything. Well, jazz music and an open bar tab. Jamie Madrox has been through a less than peaceful week or two and the pressure was at a breaking point. Something had to be done. After being talked out of picking a fight with Iron Fist(seriously, that yellow pirate mask demands it), Jamie actually made a decision. On his own. Without being goaded into anything. He just blurted it out. "Birdland. Ten. Dancing." It surprised him too. Having made the call, he couldn't back out of it. He handcuffed himself to a night of blowing off steam and soaking in some relaxed vibes. Now, he did need some help before they left. Jamie having met Vi at the door in his usual overcoat and slacker attire, he read the expression on the young womans face and tromped upstairs. After a call to a friend, some video conferencing with Dupes and a pile of discarded outfits later? Jamie Madrox sauntered down the stairs in an oil spill black suit complimented with a ruby tie. White shirt. Red and white Air Jordans. "I know. I know. I take forever." He said with a chuckle in passing. Out the door and down the stoop to that massive classic Caddy. Off to Birdland they go. The usual smart alek banter. The occasional flicker of road rage. Soon enough, they were pulling up to the historic Birdland Jazz Club. The black and white awning. The long line at the door. Jamie tosses keys to a valet who looks far too excitedly at the low riding beast he gets to wedge into a crowded lot. "Be gentle with her. She's a big girl but she's fragile." The cold is an immediate opponent and one they don't have to fight. The burly brute in a too-small suit jacket upnods Jamie with a stern glare. Unclipping the black velvet rope barring everyones entrance... but theirs. "Irving." He says casually. "Madrox." The gargantuan, bald beheamoth says while crossing off his name on a clip board that looks like a childs toy in those gnarly bouncers mitts. "I got three years knocked off his sentence last year. Got out on good behavior, believe it or not." He says in a whisper to Vi as they pass the gate keeping giant of a man. "His middle name is 'Sue'. Seriously. Weird, right?"
Vi	The sight of Vi waiting for Jamie at the door was probably a little bit of a surprise. The girl has dressed very simply in the entire time he's known her. Falling into the teen mantra of jeans, t-shirts, sweatshirts and sweaters. So when he comes back down and finds her in a black skirt, white blouse, and even stockings? It's quite the change. And a moment's reflection might pick up she's even wearing makeup. Very well done too, making it likely it was someone else's doing. Probably one of the Madri. No heels though, one look at the things had caused Vi to just stare at the Jamie who had taken her shopping two weeks back, telling her she should have something nice, that at some point she would be glad for it. A nicer jacket than usual goes about her for the ride to the club. Vi watches as Jamie gets them inside, without even needing to grease a palm. "Sue. Is a girl's name isn't it? Or sometimes men and women both use them?" She glances back at the bouncer. "Such a big city," she tells him. "Yet you seem to find someone you know most anywhere we-" Vi starts to say, before she cuts off. "Right. Sometimes the realities of... you... all of you... sort of sneak up on a girl," Vi tells him. Vi moves a little closer to Jamie as they step inside, a hand moving to rest on his side. She's not been in any kind of club before. Though she's growing more used to living here, there are always new experiences for her. And she draws on what she knows and trusts while encountering them.
Jamie Madrox	The low whistle Jamie let out as he passed her through the door of X-Factor Investigations was one of surprise and approval. The two of them have been slumming it hard in Mutant Town and Williamsburg for -weeks- and the chance taken to get dressed up and out on the town? Clearly one he should have pulled the trigger on sooner. While feeling a tad exposed out of his overcoat, he had to admit that they made for an eye catching duo. The Caddy roaring off to its resting place for the evening, Jamie and Vi slip inside with the protest and groans of the frigid exiles yet to make it past the black velvet rope. Low lighting softens the hard lines of brick and steel accents, the scent of bourbon and pipe tobacco linger even though lighting a smoke in this city could be more trouble that it's worth. The band on stage so casual and relaxed as they rolled through a lengthy jazz classic. The club is nearly packed tonight. Small round top tables crowded with locals and saavy tourists alike. "Sue -is- a girls name. Which is what sparked the whole situation in the first place. Dude put six men in hospital beds. Made me a birthday cake. Can't bake to save his life but can sure suplex a dude through a Honda Civic." Jamie is all smiles as he leads Vi through the throng of humanity. Her arm around his waist, his draped over her shoulders. He's -careful- in his travels. One strong bump could demand his wallet come out for growing door charges. "Vi, it's a mess up here. I'm just happy he was so big that I couldn't forget him." A light laugh, swallowed up by a wandering bass line, and Jamie pulls a chair at a miraculously unattended table. "You, on the otherhand, don't have to worry about a thing. Going to take a couple Phoenixes for that... Phoenix's? Phoeni?" Brows furrow as he loses his own train of thought and rapidly shakes the confusion out of his head. Hands resting on the back of her chair, he eyes the crowd with muted paranoia. "You look amazing, by the way. Love the stockings. My call or did you pull that rabbit out of the hat yourself?"
Vi	The noise and bustle of the club are the sorts of things that Vi actually takes to readily. The girl's instincts to make herself lost finding so many opportunities in a place like this. It's like putting a rabbit into a garden with two dozen holes for it to choose from should the garden's guardian dog come sniffing around. Though she does keep that arm tight about Jamie's waist. It's one thing to know she can get herself lost in the crowd. Another to actually become lost when she has no desire to be. The sounds and smells are the press of bodies are a wealth of stimuli for the nineteen year old to take in. She waits until they reach the table, taking a seat as Jamie pulls out her chair for her, to focus on the music that seems the focus of the place. So different from the music she hears amongst the students at the school. The two genres seem like they can't even be compared, to Vi. She looks over to Jamie as he pays her the compliment, the music instantly forgotten. The smile that Jamie's comment evokes looks like it should be enough to get him out of a week in Purgatory. "Thank you," she tells him, looking very pleased. "It was your call. The one working at the theater," she says of a Madri doing costuming and makeup off Broadway. "I figure I probably can't go wrong when the advice is coming from yourself," she tells him, smiling and sliding her hand over once Jamie is seated to rest her fingers in his. "So is coming here about drinking, or the music for most people? Or, I guess no need to separate them?"
Jamie Madrox	Keeping an eye on Vi has not been much of a challenge for Jamie. Jests aside, he's not pushed her to using and abusing those natural talents and hard learned skills. Yet. He's been careful to not force the young woman into the shadows. Once he does? He's going to have an issue on his hands. In time, she may teach him a thing or two when it comes to blending into the masses. Scooting her chair in all too easily, Vi's newr feather light as it is, Jamie takes a moment to lean down closer. A kiss on the cheek. Public display of affection? Why, Jamie. The scandal. "Well then. I'll have to send myself a cookie basket. Job well done. That Dupe still using a bullshit French accent? I swear he does that to drive me crazy." A chuckle against her ear and Jamie pulls a chair beside hers and has a seat. After unbuttoning his jacket, that is. Made that hasty mistake once before. He's learned at the cost of a former ill fitting suit and lost buttons. "Don't get me wrong, I know a -lot- of stuff but I'm still me. You can always find a way to go wrong by listening to me. I'm like a dowsing rod for trouble." Upturning his hand atop the table, Jamie laces his fingers with hers. A contented sigh leaving him in a slow hiss from a lazy smile as he watches an older gentleman strumming a gargantuan standing bass. "A little of both for most. Some people lean one way or the other. Bartender serves a mean Old Fashioned. I was hooked after that." Leaning his shoulder to hers, he talks juuuust over the music. "A far cry from the sample heavy electronic mashups that you hear at the school. Easier to dance to."
Vi	Vi's fingers curl about Jamie's as he draws more of those smiles from her. They come so much more readily now than when he met her. Taking her on one of first true looks at the city, the girl filtering so many emotions from her face, used to avoiding anything that brought notice to her. Today's Vi is far more comfortable. The warm little public affection to her cheek got smiles that even showed some teeth. Vi looks over towards the band and says, "I like how the music seems to... go together?" she says. "Sometimes the stuff at the school, it's like someone is talking and someone else is playing and they don't really have anything to do with each other besides going on at the same time." Vi pulls her eyes away from the band to look over towards her escort for the night. "I'll still manage to step on your toes though," she promises him with a soft laugh. Vi glances about the night club and says, "So they won't let me drink anything here but soda? Why don't they trust teenagers with drinking?" she asks.
Jamie Madrox	That reassuring, centering squeeze to his hand brings Jamie out of whatever angsty funk he'd been trying to hide the past few days. Burying himself in work, not sleeping or finding the time to eat or simply pause for a moment to consider... he doesn't have it so bad after all. The brighter, vibrant smile he catches from her infected him immediately. Leaning against her shoulder, head bowed ever so slightly, he can't help but laugh at her observations of the musically confused Xavier's students. "It's like making a stew. Low and slow. A bit of something for everybody. Apart, the ingredients can look weirdly out of place but throw them all together there?" Jamie, absently tracing his thumb on the back of Vi's hand, flags down a waitress with the other. "It all just works. Unlike whatever Doug has been blasting" Beaming up at the young redhead that comes to the table, Jamie is quick to confirm her suspicions. "Whiskey neat. Mid shelf. Three fingers. Your finest soda for the stunning woman beside me." As the redhead moves off to gather supplies, Jamie sighs and shakes his head in disbelief. "This country has a weird hangup about people under twenty-one. You can go get a government issue killing machine but not a beer. Priorities are important, right? Beer first. Then guns. As God intended." Before the waitress can even come back, Jamie suddenly perks up. Brows furrowed, he catches one of his Dupes walking through the crowd. The two exchange stern upnods but not a thing else. Eyes back on Vi, he brings that all too straight and pearly white smile back to full high beam brightness. "I've got tough toes. They can handle it." Scooting back from the table, Jamie kisses the back of her hand in his. A brief, soft peck. "C'mon. Let's go. I like this song. About fifty years old but still holds up."
Vi	Vi's eyes are on Jamie as much as the club, and his relaxation as they settled in puts a warmth in her eyes. So often she sees how tense he can get. And with good reason. With his dupes it is almost like having 20 children out there to keep track of you. You trust them and love them, but whatever happens is literally on him. She squeezes his hand, smiling as he places the order. "Right. So, kill people with machines first, shots later," she concludes with a faint grin. The furrowed look causes Vi to glance around, though it's unclear if she spotted the other Jamie in the room or not. When the man looks back to her, Vi leans over to him, sliding her free hand up to his shoulder, and then around to the back of his neck. "Thank you for bringing me out," she tells him, and leans forward to brush a soft kiss to his lips. It's kept short, but her eyes looking into his after say what she wasn't able to with the kiss. After, she rises to her feet, sliding her chair in with a foot. "Sometimes I just don't know how you all remember so many things. A song from fifty years ago? There's so much, it seems like your brain should just fill right up by now," she comments to him. She keeps her hands in his, moving closer to him when he leads her towards the dance floor.
Jamie Madrox	She gets him. She really does. It's, at times, an intimidating thing to know and understand. She sees -him- through all the weird little lies, terrible jokes and genetic anarchy. Again he passes that knowing little wink. He can't seem to wipe the smile off his face, even when he's almost positive she can and has done something that no non-psychic has done to date: Win a game of 'Spot the Prime'. "See? You got it! Pretty sure that answer is on the citizenship test. Word for word. It's uncanny." Jamie Ocho, pausing at a table to speak with an older man, whip thin with frizzy grey hair and a face like a wood carving. An envelope is exchanged before the Dupe vanishes back into the crowd. Kneeing his chair under the table with a bump, he's soon drawn down into a light little brush of warm lips. Even seated, the height difference is near comical. "Short and sweet. Just like somebody else I know." Forehead to forehead for the flicker of a moment, Jamie mouths a silent 'you're welcome'. When her chair finds a home, Jamie is already leading her away from the table as the waitress comes back with drinks. If he's lucky, the Dupe will settle up while he's away. He's likely not that lucky. "Charles wanted to do a study on that. See if it's because I just have a knack for it or if it's some kind of low powered hive mind thingy. Personally? I just think it's because I'm awesome." With a crooked finger, Jamie tugs his tie a little looser before cricking his neck to the left. A few snaps, crackles and pops loosens up the ole dance factory subroutines. "Now the important thing about jazz and dancing isn't what you do with your arms or specific moves. Not in my opinion. Here..." He says while laying a hand to her hip. The other still loosely twined with hers own little digits. "Follow me. One, -two-, three, -four-. One, -two-, three, -four-. Just like that. Smooth. Easy. Simple. Just like the music."
Vi	The touch of foreheads is accepted readily, Vi's fingers teasing the back of Jamie's neck before letting go as they move out to the dance floor. "Oh. Citizenship. I suppose... that might be something I have to go through at some point. I don't really know how it works. I asked a teacher and they said something about maybe SHIELD could help me with it," Vi says. "And that, in the meantime I'd better find someone willing to 'pay me under the table.'" Vi moves as Jamie directs her for the dancing. "Which, I think maaaaaybe I've found already," she says, brown eyes twinkling at her taller, older boss. "Though I didn't really go into details there." She starts to dance with him, watching his footwork at first to try to help avoid the aforementioned toe-stepping. "Um, I do get paid, right?" she asks teasingly when she looks back up. The young woman falls into the dance easily. Not exactly experienced in the kind of dancing the club does, but some people just naturally move to music better than others. "How many times have you had some sort of dance career?" she asks.
Jamie Madrox	At the edge of the dance floor, noteably a safe choice for Jamie and his strange multiplication woes, they carve a place of the floor out for just the two of them. Granted, not a whole bunch of people dancing, more seem pleased enough to sit at a table but still. Watching their feet, Jamie moves a little slowed down for her benefit until she finds the rhythm. "Gonna have a talk with that teacher. I'd rather they didn't try to feed you to SHIELD for a visa. Best to avoid those fascist thugs when possible." Jamie almost steps on HER toes when the topic switches to work. Biting his lip, he restrains himself admirably from about five quick one liners. Somebody give the man a medal. "Best not go give too many details on that one. Tax evasion is a serious, though really gratefying crime." A smirk threatens to break into laughter. Lips quiver. Shoulders shaking with unheard laughter. "Paid? That's more a question for Payroll or Human Resources. I'll make sure to send an email to Jamie tonight." "You're getting it. See? Not so hard. We'll add some spice here in a bit when we get an audience." Though truth be told, the two did draw some gazes. Mutants come in generally two varieties. Hideous and Holy Crap Hot. Genetics are fun, aren't they? "Well. I took up ballet during a gymnastics off season. Ballroom dancing classes. Tango. Salsa. Danced on stage at The Hot House in Chicago for about a year. Which was... wild. Like, Wolverine on meth wild." He says with a head shake and roll of the eyes.
Vi	Vi laughs softly, one of her hands sliding along his shoulder as they dance together. The saxophone player steps forward and takes over the lead, causing Vi's eyes to snap over to the stage. "Oh. Oh. I really love that instrument," she says, one of the multitude of things she's not familiar with. Sometimes being with her is like being with a small child for the sheer number of questions she's capable of asking. Though probably more gratifying in her ability to grasp the answers quickly. Her eyes go back to Jamie and she grins. "Well, I don't really need much. I still sometimes worry that the food at the school is too good to be true, that it'll be taken away. But, it's getting kind of rare to feel that way now. It's just so different from what I knew," she tells him. Vi moves a little closer, resting her cheek against Jamie's shoulder as they dance. "I envy you, being able to experience so many things," she tells him, her fingers brushing back and forth over Jamie's shoulder. "There's so many things I wish I could go do at once. I want to go... well, just about everywhere. The pictures of cities and the Grand Canyon and... and maybe some of those tropical places although I'm still kind of reluctant about a lot of water."
Jamie Madrox	Jamie is all smiles tonight. Whatever worries he had, Vi has done an impeccable job of putting them on the back burner. That said, it'll all sit there and simmer but for now? She's all he's focused on. When the sax bellows across the club, Jamie chuckles quietly at the surprise and wonder written on her face. "Saxophone. Always wanted to learn how to play an instrument that isn't an accoustic guitar. You bust that old wooden war horse out and people get judgemental. You belt out a sax solo in a Taco Bell though? That's class." He says with a warm, radiant grin on his freshly shaven face. For all her questions, Jamie has never been short of responses. He still remembers what it was like adjusting to life outside of his self imposed farmlife exile. Hand at her hip, Jamie lets some of the guidance fade as she feels along the path the song has laid out for them. Letting the music guide where Jamie once directed. "I was kidding. We'll square that up. Maybe go to the embassy and see about getting you political refugee status. Work visa if that fails, which I doubt it would. You know way too many well placed people for that to slip up." Into the flow of that music, Jamie moves all too easily with her. A natural, patient and smooooooth dance lesson that paves the way for more to come. Getting out of the case work and out of his head is probably the best idea of the year so far and he had her to thank for the respite. "Believe it or not, you're in good hands there. It's where you should be. Where you need to be." A brow arches under that M inked into his face. "If anybody hassles you about the fridge, you point 'em out. We'll put some sheet metal under their mattress and you can float them onto the roof." As the song slows, nowhere near a close, Jamie slides his arm around the slender young woman. Dancing closer, the music became less important to dance to in favor of simply dancing. Her cheek on his shoulder, he lets his gaze roam the crowd. If Jamie spots his Dupe again, he doesn't react. The Dupe? At the bar. Watching them while nursing a beer. Even his Dupes are paranoid. Go figure. "It all looks like fun from the outside but I'm a mess." He says with a self-deprecating laugh. "You don't need to be everywhere at once to enjoy it all. I'm loaded. The school has a stealth jet. Let's go see some sights. What's to stop us?" Tropical. Jamie stiffened ever so slightly. Genosha still fresh on his mind. He plays it off like he was trying to pop his neck. "Tell you what... how about we skip the jet and blackmail Kurt into 'porting us to Hawaii?" Brows furrow then as he wonders if Kurt could even -do- that. "Maybe Vegas first. Less ocean. More bars."
Vi	The smooth notes of the saxophone are sometimes sensual, sometimes exhilarating. Both seem to get into Vi, encouraging her body to give into the soft tones. To move and flow. To feel. The girl's arm slides up further around Jamie's shoulder as she snuggles in against him. The music and the man together are such a balm for any cares the girl has. Thoughts of citizenship or visas can be forgotten for another day. Jamie's arm going around her just increases the feeling of intimacy. "Any time you want to get away," she promises him. "I'm yours," she adds, smiling as she and the Multiple Man dance to the cool zest of the jazz music. "Las Vegas seems... well, I don't really understand it, I think. I know people like to go there, and they gamble. Playing cards or something? But I haven't done that so I guess I don't know what it's like or how fun it would be," she admits to him. Vi smiles up to Jamie and says, "You know, half the time I don't understand your comments. For now I just assume they are very clever. Someday I'll get more of them though. So if you're not being clever, you have time to work on it," she says, grin making her words teasing.
Jamie Madrox	There's a reason Jamie picked a jazz club first instead of Evolution or one of the many dives he haunts in the wee hours of the night. Vi falling into that natural step and sway as they hold onto eachother is... well, other than the free door charges, exactly what he was looking forward to. To introduce her to things like dancing, music and the like? The reward is found in that smile. Citizenship can wait. Unnoticed by Jamie, the dance floor had thinned out. Only Vi and Jamie remained with two other couples in distant orbit. "Wait. You're not already? Oooooh, you sneaky woman. You found the loophole in your contract, didn't you?" He asks teasingly as they sway and slide so easily together. It's second nature for Jamie. It's muscle memory and placement. He doesn't have to think when it comes to this and that alone was worth braving the cold. "Ahhhhh, Vegas is great. In small doses of stupifying excess. Magic shows. Slot machines. Blackjack. Dancing routines. All day. All night. Then you get to run from the cops because they want that orangutan back but you've already named him, sooooo..." He trails off with a nonchallant shrug. Brushing off possible primate theft. "Oh, I absolutely know I'm in some pretty high air space on most of my references. Half the shit I joke about is from before you or I was born. God. I need new material, don't I?" Brows furrow, Jamie leans his head down to whisper against her ear. Chuckle and crane back to give her that high lofted eyebrow of ever present curiousity. "I'm not nearly as clever as I tell everyone I am. Your grace period is accepted."