Owner	Pose
Dazzler	Since Lucy and Alison's dinner, the clock has spun a few rotations into the dead of night. The crack of light from the continuous door that separates the two hotel suites has long since turned to a pale, moonlit darkness. The sounds of last minute calls with agents and the checking of email has gone silent, and after a requested wakeup call in the morning, Alison Blaire, has also, gone silent. With a garbage can lined with makeup-stained cotton balls in the bathroom, the pop star's intentions were quick and immediate. Makeup? Gone. Shoes? Packed. Dress? Haphazardly folded atop her suitcase. She's covered her eyes in a black sleeping mask and settled into a king-sized bed large enough to drown in. As the minutes tick by, an unclothed shoulder rolls out from her side-sleeping position, seeking to wedge her head between two pillows and stretch out onto her back. Her painted toes poke out of the sheets, seeking cooler air for her undisturbed, dream-time beauty sleep. One that isn't too old to happen with a stuffed rabbit tucked under one arm. For tomorrow? Massage. When Alison Blaire hotels, she hotels //hard//.
Lucy	It's a good night in New York City. the air outside is cool but not so much so that it necessitates the use of extra blankets. This high up there ialmost no ambient noise, just the softest hum of electronic devices asleep in their cradles. A single room away from Alison a young woman named Lucy has curled into a bed far too large for her and settled in to dream of technoorganic sleep. Around Alison there is th e faint sense of pressure. it's like a prickling on the skin, delicate but insistent as the room shifts, like a pressure system suddenly changing and foretelling wiht it the coming of terrific storms. The feeling is subtle but it pokes at the sleeping mind as if bidding it to wake. The first thing that would be noticed Alison opened her eyes is that there is no ambient light. None at all. The room has gone utterly black... Which should be impossible in New York City, as long as the windows aren't blacked out and the bedside phone is plugged in. Nevermind the glow of power strips and power buttons on appliances. No light is a safety hazard.
Dazzler	The blonde's plum lips mumble at the first sense of pressure in the room. A brainless, witless murmur into the night. Her knees twist beneath the blankets and her body, sensing something is wrong long before her mind, starts up the natural waking process. A lengthy intake of breath and a curl to Alison's spine signals her waking, and with a mote of frustration and a want for her bottle of water on the nightstand, she lifts the mask off of her eyes. Alison Blaire...doesn't do darkness; she doesn't do it well. She blinks at first, double-checking that the mask is hanging over her eyes like a pair of sunglasses. So dark it is, that she can't see her water bottle on the nightstand. Looking every bit like her character in Death Claw 4, the movie her character DIED in, Alison scoots up to press her naked back to the headboard. She clings the sheet to her breast and ignores the oddly luxurious feeling of the bedding grazing over her backside, where her lone strip of clothing barely covers. Blue. Like her dress. "Hello?" Alison speaks up, tucking her stuffed rabbit, Excalibur, against her breast as she reaches out with her fingers, trying to drink in the ambient noise enough to generate a lit glow from her fingertips.
Lucy	Excalibur is warm. It's comforting really. At least until Alison realizes it's a stuffed rabbit and stuffed rabbits produce no heat. Excalibur is a bunny but he is clearly a good friend to anticipate the woman's needs in such a way. Of course, the rabbit could be anything. Couldn't he? How was he even created? Eventually light begins to return. It's a slow process, one of moments, the room creeeping into view like the sun rising over the primordial world. An apropos metaphor, given that it is no longer a hotel room. Alison has been transported somewhere else entirely, like she stepped into a reality where her bed has been positioned in the middle of a child's bedrooom. Blocks are scattered on the floor in a huge variety of colors and the carpet is a soft brown. The walls are very clinical and empty. A 'child pen' sits against one wall and there's a small television, quaint by the modern standard. Against the far wall is a desk. The glow comes from a phone sitting on it, a traditional cord bearing model, and an orange nightlight plugged in beside the bed. There is a light switch by the door leading out of the room, beside a shelf full of books.
Dazzler	Alison's lips part; her tongue tightens up, feeling suddenly drier than it was before. In such a way as disbelieve, her blue eyes widen at the sight before her, pupils black and dilated, drinking in as much as the light as she can. The more that shows, the worse it gets. The pulse in the side of her neck leaps and -- to be sure -- Alison reaches to the side of her head and tugs slow and hard on a strand of her hair. "Fuck." If it's a dream, it's a convincing one, and Alison swallows hard, burying the feeling that she's become one of //those// girls in her own horror movie. "This isn't creepy, this is just. Something." Alison whispers to herself as she turns, slipping out of the bed. Dragging the sheet with her, she makes an attempt to wrap it under her arms like a towel and hold the slack off to the side. Togas take time and skill. She twists it, trying to find some way to manage it on her way to the desk. Excalibur, her stuffed rabbit, doesn't help, pinned to the side of her body as he is. Alison reaches for the phone and puts it to her ear. The toga-dress sags as she sets Excalibur down, quickly pressing buttons, trying to get a dial tone. "Come on, come on..."
Lucy	Alison picks up the phone and starts poking buttons. She can see the reflection of her face in the display panel on the front of the black and silver device. It does have a dial tone but when she begins to attempt to dial the phone simply beeps. Click. The hiss of static. You have one new message: May 2nd, 2017. "Doctor? It's me. Mariette Hayes? I'm sorry, but can you make time to see Lucia again today? She's been acting a bit... Off. I don't think it's taking. Maybe do that thing you did again. With the blocks? She seemed like that? ...Yeah, I know it isn't helping. Is anything?" Click. Alison is free to try dialing '9' to call out. Not far away, set into the wall, the door to Lucy's room is evident. Some things haven't been entirely torn away, apparently. It could all still be there underneath the facade.
Dazzler	Alison hasn't seen a phone with a dial in ages. If a phone doesn't have an 'app' installed, she's not entirely a novice, but the archaic sense of the device only brings Alison goosebumps up her arms while she listens to the message. She whines quietly and hangs up the phone on the hook, grabbing Excalibur and holding him in her hand with the slack of her sheet-dress. Once more, she looks for a way out, a window; anything, but her spinning comes to a stop, pointed at the door. "Lucy was a Hayes. Oh, if she's a poltergeist. I don't wanna go through that door, uhm..." Alison talks to herself, biting down on her lips in search of something she can use as a weapon. Short of taking the phone's cord as a strangulation device, nothing comes to her mind.     Really, Alison, strangling people isn't your style. "Eff my life sometimes." Alison sighs out and commits to what still //might// be a dream. Bad wine? Bad Greek salad? Frowning, Alison reaches for the door's handle to Lucy's room and pulls it open, peeking through first, then stepping one blue-black pedicured toe through second.
Lucy	Past the door is a room that looks like someone had attempted to recreate the mind of Salvador Dali inside of a 3D Etch-a-Sketch. The room has halfway dissolved. Walls have digitized gaps hauled out of them, bits taken like invisible granules of sand and then flowing through the air as they instead form other objects. The path to the bed, however, is clear. This still similar to a hotel room but half of it is painted a stark, severe white. The bed has a steel barred frame and is a hard pad lined with simple sheets and small pillows and it is here that Lucy is thrashing. The young woman is in a nightgown. Did Alison get one for her? She didn't have one before. She is twisting and turning in the throes of an obvious nightmare while the world around her is slowly being reconstructed. It's rebuilding another place, another time. Another room entirely. Progress continues whether Alison enters or not.
Dazzler	For all of her bravery in the face of a world that hates mutants, Alison stops and gasps. The center of her back bats against the frame of the door as the intimidating sight of a room being torn to pieces brings her to a stop. Her arm tightens, squeezing the rabbit against her chest in a way that doesn't bring any more comfort in the idea that one short slip and she, herself, could be digitally torn to pieces. It's like walking through a blender. Who wants to do such a thing? No one. But Lucy's there, thrashing and in a horrible state. If Alison has one virtue, it's compassion. She whines low in her throat, like a puppy begging for a treat, then takes her first step forward. Opting for fast where slow might offset her balance, the next three steps are in a rush. "Lucia!" Alison stops at the foot of the bed. Reaching over the footboard, she holds the makeshift bedding-toga between her breasts in an knot. Poor Excalibur, life being choked out of him, is trapped against said knot while Alison's freed, left hand tries to caress Lucia's ankle. "Lucy? Hey, hey heyHeyHey it's me, Alison. You're having a bad dream..."
Lucy	The room continues to reorder itself in a precise manner. Alison is given a wide berth by the bits of reality that are now rearranging themselves to superimpose a new location and place upon the world surrounding them. At the epicenter of the event, Lucy. The girl is, thankfully, warm to the touch and that is somehow comforting. She stops thrashing as she is being touched. Around the room construction abruptly ceases. The girl stirs slowly and then she sits up, blue eyes going wide. They scan Alison, with her bedding toga and then over the rest of the room. Her eyes drop to Excalibur next and the girl takes a few quick, sharp breaths. "I-I-I..." She swallows hard. "I-it..." She reaches for her arm and starts bunching up skin and pinching it, as if to be sure that she- or it- still exists. Tug. Tug. Nope, it's still attached. Slowly Lucy scans the entire room. Lucy whispers aloud, "Did I- um... are you okay?"
Dazzler	If the room were cold, then Alison's breath would be coming out in stuttered sheets of fog. The fear of the moment is written in the shivering in Alison's fingers, fighting through whatever fear is present to do the brave thing and save the girl. The Dazzler has been there before, even in one of her movies: //Is it okay to be scared?         If you're not scared, you're stupid.// Alison's fingers wrap around the ankle and the hair trapped to the sides of her head by the sleeping mask sways as she takes a peek over her shoulder. The horror of the room has gone silent. Relief smears flushed skin past the once scared, pallor that had overtaken the pop star. Something has gone back to normal, and in the moment, she turns back to Lucy, relieved. Fingers, however, still twitching. "I don't know what's going on," Alison starts quietly, eyelids fluttering as her wrist tightens the knotted sheet between her breasts. "I-I'm okay. I think. I'm not hurt. I don't know what's going on." Alison cocks a hip onto the headboard of the bed and pats the other blonde's ankle. "Did...did you do this? Because if you didn't...honey we've gotta get moving and I've gotta find my clothes."
Lucy	Lucy is looking around quickly, her eyes intent as she is searching her surroundings. The girl's distress is evident, her cheeks flushing faintly as she does. Finally she shakes her head slwoly and takes a deep breath, then a second. A beat follows. Then she whispers again, "-sorry. I can't always stop it." Then she adds very quietly, "Voice- spoken... Activation. I try very hard not to speak." Lucy licks her pale lips then and laces her fingers together in front of her. She shifts her weight a bit closer to the bottom of the bed so that slender calvs are against her thighs and half curls into a ball, Alison's hand still resting on her shoulders. She blinks a few times and then exhales, slowly. "I shouldn't have harmed aggravated confused scared... You." A frown. "I should go," the girl concludes slowly. "But I can fix this first..." And then the room begins to move in reverse, a feeling almost muore surreal than the first as the reconstruction of everything is undone like someone had hit the rewind buton on an old video tape.
Dazzler	The sheer power, and the horror it can bring, is something Alison Blaire isn't good enough an actress to hide. Her ministrations are a gentle sweep of fingers on Lucy's shoulders, all in all reassuring attempts to dissuade the other woman that she isn't uncomfortable. The focus is shifted, shivering digits aside. "Sure, fix it, Lucy, you wouldn't want to see the kinds of bills these places will throw at you for wrecking a room like this." Awkwardly attempting humor, Alison shuffles the other half of her backside over the headboard and onto the bed next to Lucy. She tucks her legs in. Why? Because the ROOM is changing shape, and in the same way that one keeps their heels away from the underside of the bed when the Bogeyman is present, Alison has no desire to be on that floor, not now. "You...you don't have to go." Alison mutters, looking to her knees to avoid watching the reformation of the room. "I have friends that wake up from nightmares screaming and everyone's head hurts for weeks." Alison's breath comes out ragged. Her lips tighten to quiet the trepidation. "My...my room's different, too." Alison continues, brushing Lucy's hair away from her eyes. "My clothes are all gone, but I have some sleep-aids in my suitcase if I could get it back? Y-you...you just look like you need a good night's sleep, Lucia."
Lucy	Lucy frowns for a second. "Wasn't just a nightmare," she apparently concludes, cocking her head slightly to the left. She seems to be deep in thought about something. Finally the girl breathes a quiet sigh and she shifts in the bed until she is bit closer to Alison. Then the diminutive young woman reaches out to wrap her slender arms around the taller blonde as best she can. The tablet reappears on the bed beside Alison after a moment. Lucy withdraws just far enough to indicate it and then ends up curling against Alison tightly. On the screen are the words: "I'm sorry. I am dangerous. Wouldn't hurt you. Should go before I scare you again. Before more activation codes are sent. Should hurry. Stayed here too long, got sloppy. Bad. All your things will be back soon. Promise." In contrast with the manner in which her words arew ritten Lucy is lcinging to Alison very tightly right now, burying her head. "You're safe."
Dazzler	Voice. Spoken. Activation. Just then, Alison Blaire's face expands. Blue eyes become whole circles and her plum-shaded lips part when the lightbulb comes on. Her breath hitches, preparing to speak, but Lucy's come inwards, clinging to the X-woman like a terrycloth blanket. The fear subsides and Alison's heart grows an extra size. The grip she has at the knot between her breasts loosens and she slinks an arm around Lucy's shoulders. Tugging the woman into her collarbone, she up-and-overs her chin to rest atop her head. The return of the tablet and the silence that comes over the reformatted room confirms it. The words are on tablet again, and Alison hadn't even noticed, until then, that Lucia was speaking to her. "I...just didn't know. Lucy-" Alison frowns and squeezes the thinner blonde. The pounding of her heart, gushing blood through her veins that //still// bears the tangy fruit of adrenaline, is ever the more evident in the hug. "-you, you scared me, yeah, but it's okay. Asmodeus wanted me dead because he was afraid of me. If I had a dime for every threat against our kind." Alison shakes her head and plants her lips to the top of Lucy's head. "Mistakes happen. I lasered a hotel ceiling once; it happens." Alison laughs, albeit a little nervously. "I'm thirsty." A beat. "Are you thirsty?"
Lucy	The girl nods mutely in response to the question of thirst but rather than move further she continues to embrace Alison for a long time after, head resting agianst her chest while she does There's silence, of course, and it is deafening. The tablet, at least, continues to respond. "Was afraid to tell you. Bad people are everywhere. Searching. They have some of the codes." There's Lucy, straightforwardly spilling secrets governments would no doubt die to possess. She finally takes a slow, deep breath, twisting slightly in her new friend's arms. "Drinks sound nice. Your things are back now. Come get me when you want to go?" Lucy finally releases Alison then, her hands dropping to the bed with a soft thump. "Should not stay at hotel. Either of us. Bar?"
Dazzler	Silenced, Alison's lower jaw is buried in Lucy's blonde hair, watching the pale glow of the tablet form out the words. A few minutes of calm after what's transpired is more than welcome to Alison Blaire, whose heartbeat slows, thudding directly from her breast into Lucy's cheek. The biology of her own calming mechanism floods her stomach with unspent adrenaline, and were the Dazzler thirsty before, her mouth is a desert now, with the addition of a tangy, near-nauseated feeling. "But if you're not from the same place, would they be searching for you here?" Alison asks as Lucy pulls away. The sheet sags, but Alison catches it in her fingers in time, drawing it back against her bosom. With a final squeeze and brush of her fingers, Alison turns, preparing to slip off of the bed. "I don't know what you do and don't know about me, Lucia Hayes, but I'm capable and you wouldn't be the first person I've stuck my neck out for while some kind of douchebag patriarchal boy's club was after them." The dress, the //sheet// flows behind Alison like a trailer as she walks, forgetting the tablet on the bed. There's a television in her room, however. "Are you sure you're not safe, or do you just want to change places to feel safe?" Alison asks from her room, searching for her suitcase and losing her sheet in the process. "Either way, this is a rum moment. A rum and Coke moment. Maybe a //two// drink moment."
Lucy	Lucy listens to everything Alison has to say and slowly relaxes.She runs a finger along the woman's bare side, touching her skin in a familiar but not overly intimate way. After that closeness the girl is reluctant to move too far. She is still very warm to the touch. Too warm, really. She takes a deep breath and moves away fully now, dropping down from the bed to her feet. The television in the far room clicks on as Alison enters. The screen that displays is the opening screen for the 'Adult' television package. It reads: Please Enter Lock Code To Proceed. The screen shifts after a moment, flickering. What comes up next is: Maintenance Has Been Notified To Assist You. Please Stand By For A Call. Then the screen changes again: It's the scene from the Matrix where Trinity is speaking to him at the night club with the words, "They're watching you, Neo" echoing in the squiet room. Lucy soon follows Alison out into the far room, her expression one of deep concern. Those wide, piercing eyes. That flawless face which shows so little emotion. The nightgown she is wearing begins to dissolve, a swirl of tiny particles and soon becomes a a white dress with a pleated mid thigh skirt. Blue buttons. Matching socks. White shoes. It makes her seem more ethereal, as well as younger. Lucia watches from the doorway to see how Alison responds to the television message. It repeats.
Dazzler	The sense of Lucy's fingertips are left on Alison's side. Tired, in a way, Alison's skin didn't flinch from the woman's touch, lacking a sense of awkwardness, but it isn't until she's back in her room that whatever leftover sense of contact wears on the skin. An intendation. A memory. Alone for a handful of seconds, Alison throws her sleep mask onto the bed and leans over, digging through her suitcase. The jeans she's looking for are far more covering than the thin coverage of the dark, blue, backless undergarment. Her unbrushed hair sways from her bent posture, eyes clicking up to her television. Porn? OH. Damage? Her brows scrunch together, laughing under her breath at the dodged porn charges to her account when it's replaced with the face of Keanu Reeves.     Nice guy.         A little quiet. "Lucy? Did you send that in here?" Alison calls out in the assumption of her lonesome state. "Because as much as I love that movie, if you're trying to warn me, I get it, hon, I //do//." Paydirt. Alison finds her shredded blue jeans. She rises up to her full height and turns to the door separating the two suites. "If not...god I'm all fuckin' paranoid now, too-" Lucia's there. Alison stops. She blinks. Slowly, she brings the jeans to cover her bare chest while she reads the look on Lucia's face as the concern it carries. "Is...that..." Alison wets her lips with her tongue. A drink really is needed. "...is that the hurry up and run look?"
Lucy	"I was- responding. To your question. How I know." A beat as Lucy then adds in that soft, then voice she seems to favor. "They sent the codes," she repeats then. "Enter lock codes. Your message has been received. Maintenance has been notified." then the girl smooths her dress carefully with her fingers. If she saw Alison's nude body then Lucy doesn't seem to mind the view. She doesn't comment either, perhaps for Alison's own comfort. Perhaps because she doesnt' know how. The girl takes deep breath and slowly exhales before nodding once. then she promises, "If something happens that is wrong I will warn you." After this Lucy tosses her hair with her fingers and reaches into the air.. A blue ribbon to match her vivid eyes forms in her fingers and she ties it into her long, blonde hair. "Do not run. Hurry up and walk. A drink is good." A beat and then Lucy adds, "We will be- not alone... Involved... Um." When speaking allowed it's almost like a stutter. Lucy furrows her brow and shakes her head briefly. "... They wouldn't do things in public," the girl surmises. "I should have been more careful."
Dazzler	The little hamster on its wheel in Alison's head spins faster, understanding coming to her eyes in the form of newfound sharpness. She's learning how to speak LUCY. Slowly, at least, because the other blonde doesn't have a piece of Rosetta Stone software to come along with her logic. "They...activated you." Alison nods slowly, lips curling into a frown. Shaking off the nerves, the pair of jeans lowers from Alison's chest. She turns her side to Lucy, watching the woman as she steps into the first leg of her shredded jeans. It's like climbing through a spiderweb. Complicated. Her toes catch on the tears, but finaly get through. Then the other. After a few seconds of bouncing and twisting, she hops, pulling the jeans over the curve of her ass, which leaves behind a little tear beneath the back pocket, which said ass pokes through. The rest of the dressing ritual goes more quickly. A black tank top is peeled over Alison's shoulders, then socks, then she bounces atop her bed, tugging on her boots. "Be a dear and shove whatever's over there into my suitcase and zip it?" Alison asks, rolling onto her side to collect her cell phone and charger. She comes up with a bottle in hand and a hair-tie caught in her teeth. The hair-tie strains her words. "It's okay, Lucy. Nothing bad's happened to anyone yet and I'm a celebrity. Do you have any idea how hard it would be for whoever these people are to fuck with me and not get followed for it? People know where I am at all times." Alison's arms bend, tying her hair behind her head in a quick ponytail. "You've got friends now." Alison grins. "They wouldn't dare."
Lucy	"Ping," Lucy agrees in response to the statement about her activation. Lucy shifts her weight as she does. "Partial code. Interpreted as demand for ignition-variation-response. No outside control." Then Lucy nods once, turns, and looks at the suitcase. She blinks once and then moves to gather up the things that were on the ground with her hand. The girl moves swiftly but- awkwardly. Like a child using her hands for the first time. It might be similar; she clearly doesn't need her hands for most takes if earlier was any indication thereof. The bag is badly loaded but everything fits inside and then Lucy, small as she is, picks it up easily and puts it against a shoulder. She smiles back at Alison after the reassurances and gently worries her bottom lip as she does so. Lucy's smiles are bright and genuine, her quiet joy almost infectious in how it spreads as she straightens. She moves over to Alison once the woman is free to offer her her the tablet.
Dazzler	Alison Blaire has so many things. The clothes stuffed into the bag alone make it's side bulge. All costume changes and maybes for the weekend. Clothes for comfort. Clothes for entertainment. Clothes for clubs. Bags of makeup supplies and a flat iron complicate the zipping process, but somehow, it all fits. The Dazzler is a clothes horse among clothes horse, and the art of leaving the hotel room is every bit as tedious as getting ready to leave it. In fact, the pop-starlet even stops in the restroom before leaving to mouthwash, spit, rinse, and then returns. "I can get that if it's too heavy. Or we can get the bellhop to handle it." Alison offers, but doesn't realy. She moves to pass Lucy, lips tightening into a confident smile. Arrogance? No, but expensive hotels are Alison's domain, and in her eyes it is she, not Lucy's would-be captors, who runs the show. She pats a hand to Lucy's belly and leans in, pressing a quick kiss to Lucy's cheek in calming, then drags her out into the hallway of the hotel. It's still night out. Thus. The hallway is a tomb. It's towards the elevator Alison moves, ready to press the button and ride it down the floors to the bar.
Lucy	When Alison mentions the bag being too heavy Lucy just looks at her. She lifs the bag over her her head without any difficulty, adjusting it on her shoulder. Of more concern is the possibility that Physics will require the girl to simply topple over. She manages, however. Alison might remember their first tight embrace, and the strength in her arms. The girl is small but wildly strong for her size and mass. Perhaps appropriately. Lucy is right behind Alison as they approach the elevators, watching with her azure eyes likee two glittering pinpoints in the darkness. They reach it without any difficulty. There's a creak as it begins to move upward. It's a modern elevator and so it only takes seconds to asend all the floors to this one. The doors open. After the odd lighting and darkness of the hotel room the light inside the elevator is starkly white and strangely bright. Lucy moves forward into it slowly once Alison has entered and watches everything. She's easily dragged, hand in hand. Strong or not Alison could easily pick up LUCY. She might be somewhat underfed. Lucy squeezes the Dazzler's hand and tilts her head slightly while she watches their surroundings.
Dazzler	Alison stutter-hops into the elevator and looks around the inside. It's empty. There's nothing weird about it. So, with the carefree nature that Lucy's probably just being paranoid, Alison sticks her tongue out of the corner of her mouth at the woman and pins her eyes together. She hip bumps the other blonde and presses the button marked 'L' for lobby. Not even bothering to press the button to close the doors, Alison throws her arms over her head and does a little dance, boots scooting the polished floor of the elevator. "No one's comin, this is our 'vater. Ain' nothin fuckin with Loooo-ceeee." Alison laughs and flops her hands down to her thighs with a slap. She straightens her tank top and points to her elevator-mate with a grin. "See? So you're pretty strong, too, huh? Not bothering you at all? You're just all kinds of surprises but you know what surprise you're not?" Alison gasps and places a hand over her mouth. The pop-star giggles her best soy-milk commercial giggle. "No one's messing with you with me around. They've probably got one of my albums." Alison laughs loud enough to echo it off of the walls of the elevator. The tail end of her laugh comes with a squeak, then she's rolling her eyes at herself. "Seriously. We're home free. It's chill time, baby."
Lucy	Lucy smiles back Alison starts to giggle, though it doesn't quite reach her eyes. The girl has some facial expression then. She mostly expesses herself through the barest lift of a brow or the way she arches her body toward something that captures her interes.t Right now she is watching ALison intently, amused by her jokes but still visibly pensive. She's gnawing her bottom lip again as the doors open out onto the lobby. The lobby is completely empty when Alison steps out of the elevator. No one is here, not even the desk manager. the lights overhead seem a little dimmer than before but it could just be the ambiance or a powersaving night time mode or any one of a thousand thousand things. Alison's footsteps are loud as they cross the lobby. Lucy's are silent. "Alison," the girl whispers in that wavering voice of hers. "Would you sing something? It's too..." the girl trails off and gestures the room, still right beside the taller woman's side as they approach the doors.
Dazzler	The emptiness of the lobby does nothing to extinguish Alison's overconfidence. Another hip bump into Lucy and she's taking her first steps out onto the polished tile and dimmer lighting, which is when it hits. The rare sight of Alison without at least eye makeup lifts to the lights above and she tugs her lower lip between two teeth. It's the quiet, as well as the sense that such hotels spend thousands of dollars a year setting a standard for lighting, even at four in the morning. It all makes the silence seem more, silent. Alison reaches into the back pocket of her jeans. The cell phone that strained her pocket more than it already was slips free. Without looking, she taps in her code and ulocks it, flipping to her music collection, which is...extensive. A slow trip-hop beat starts to play, and Alison pulls Lucy forward, knuckles wrapping around hers. "Wait til you're announced,     We've not yet lost all our graces... The hounds will stay in chains.     Look upon your Greatness and she'll send the call out... The Dazzler doesn't admit it where her fingers may, but she's creeped. Mildly. Her voice, however, is pure, just like the albums.
Lucy	Lucy relaxes visibly as she listens to Alison sing, her eyes slipping shut. She squeezes the taller woman's hand gently for a second with her free hand and allowsh erself to be led. That pleated skirt swishes around the girl's thighs as she walks, adding a certain amount of fluidity and grace to her steps. As fast as Aliso nwishes to go the girl complies without complaint. The bag gives no trouble at all. Outside it is cold enough to give a mild chill. Lucy has some goosebumps on her bare arms but she doesn't complain. There is almost no one around the hotel lobby or the parking lot, though a couple cars are moving to show that there is, indeed, life. A man in a hotel uniform with a bag of fast food is hurriedly moving inside looking rather chagrined as he passes. The bar is only a block or so away. By now Lucy's blue eyes are watching everything with a solemn intensity, studying their surroundings as they reach the sidewalk. She remaisn silent now but the tension is gone. the girl keeps Alison's hand, however, her own almost disappearing within it. It's hard to tell what she is thinking by her expressions but Lucy seems at peace. Even happy. She is also quite concerned. It's obvious she doesn't fully trust their surroundings. At the bar itself the parkign lot is empty although there's noise from people inside. They're singing 'Sweet Caroline' at the top of their drunken lungs.
Dazzler	Continuing her song in low, sonorous tones, Alison holds Lucy's hand the whole way. Two knuckles wrapped around a pair of Lucy's and a third hooked loosely, there's a lightness to her touch. The readiness of preparation to free the hand as needed is reasonable, but the curl of Alison's knuckles in the tug when ready to cross the street has a pressure point to it, a weight. It's a tug, and in some ways, Alison is leading the charge to the bar, too. It isn't until they're in the parking lot that Alison glances down in consideration. Her eyes flit over to the swish of pleated skirt, then to Lucy's face. Her slender wrist grazes Lucy's in their walk, and though Alison's movements are as gentle as her singing, she still casts a glance over their shoulders, checking the road behind them to the empty streets. "Sounds like they're all nice and liquored up inside," Alison chuckles, digging her palm in against Lucy's as she reaches for the door. The swing of the heavy door only amplifies the sounds of the voices coming from within. Alison's eyelids flutter and from their connected fingers, motes of light travel off of their knuckles. Purplish-blue neon streaks flutter to the concrete at their feet. Alison bites down on her lip and waggles her brows, nudging her head towards the open door. "Come on. Let's drink off the nerves, Lu."
Lucy	Lucy nods in agreement and allows herself to be dragged inside. it's a good mixed crwod of men and women of all types this far into the city. Still, more than a few people look up to see two beautiful women come through the door hand in hand. No one lers or makes comments, however, and the women are greeted by a cheerful young man who takes them to one of the open tables. Lucy is watching in wide-eyed wonder, her bottom lip held with her teeth while she's led. Small fingers play against Alison's palm and wrist, speaking without words of the people who are surrounding them. Lucia stays very close, almost like Alison's large fom is concealing her from their surroundings. She doesn't look nervous overtly, however, and has no trouble climbing into the seat once they reach the booth in question. She doesn't speak, however, and she even offers another of those quiet smiles when her eyes have a chance to meet Alison's. Drink ordering is not a difficult thing today; they appear in basically no time at all. The man in question checks Alison's idea. Somehow Lucy, who had no bags or wallet, does have an ID to present when he asks. She's 21 apparently. Her fingers are now playing a gentle percussion against the table and she smiles slyly for a second as her eyes drop to the little tablet attached ot the table. There's an electronic trivia game going down and you can make song requests from your booth!
Dazzler	The pop star has had a few years of honest bar-going in her life. The neon signs and 'ride the silver bullet' mirrors are met with a winning smile at her own reflection once they enter. Alison leans back and low when they're offered a table, yelling a thank you over the raucous singing. One, two, TEN and Alison is slipping into a chair next to Lucy and boot-shoving her bag under the table, where it will be safe. "There's a good energy to this place!" Alison beams her plum-colored lips towards Lucy, leaning in when she says it to be heard over the music. Alison crosses her legs, straining the dozens of rips in the fabric as she leans into Lucy's shoulder and orders two rum and cokes for them, cuba-libre style, with a lime wedge. Her card is put down for the tab, and within seconds, Alison is sliding Lucy her drink and offering to tap glasses with her. "I was worried that this place would be sleazy but it's way too close to the hotel to be. We lucked out." Alison takes the first sip of her drink and nudges the song-request tablet closer to the two of them. "So what are we going to drink to? And are you going to use this thing to do the...you know...thing? Or are you gonna pick a song and show me what kind of tunes you love?"
Lucy	Lucia smiles at aAlison genuinely in response to the questions. She shrugs her shoulders slightly when the question about how she might use the table is asked. Small fingers curl against he edge of the table and the girl takes a deep breath, looking around the room while she does so. For now, nothing. Apparently. When shots are presented to Lucy the girl picks up her glass ad cants her head Well to the left, studying the drink. Her glass clinks against Alison's loudly despite the small room. Then Lucy moves to take a sip. She immediately starts to turn a bit pink, eyes widening, and ends up coughing once befoe swallowing the rum. After that there's a soft laugh and she sips again, perhaps a bit mroe carefully. Amiably nods greet most of Alison's statements form there and finally blue eyes are studying the tablet intensely. her brows furrow and then it is displaying her song request a moment later. "Paralyzer" by Finger Eleven. Somehow she is lucky enough to have it play immediately. Lucy bobs in her seat, showing she has a sense of rhythm even if she can't really dance in her chair. On the tablet the words, "I like listening to you best," appear without any special emphasis.
Dazzler	"I'll sing along a little bit if that's what you came for, but before I do that-" Alison laughs and tips her shotglass back, downing the last of the liquor with a tightened throat. The liquor, syrupy and thick, isn't the best for her singing voice, but Alison's more concerned with the ponytail behind her. Leaning back next to Lucy, Alison reaches behind her head and tugs at her hair-tie. "Less likely to get noticed with my hair down." Alison laughs and shakes the strands free. "I hold on so nervous-leeee....to me and my drink." Alison croons along with a bounce in her hips. She takes up one of the other shots and turns in her seat a measure, better facing Lucy. Eyes low and lidded, she laughs with her eyes over the rim of the shot, then begins to tilt it towards her lips. The second shot throws back easier than the first. "Hey!" Alison reaches out and places a hand on Lucy's wrist, squeezing it. "FUCK THEM." Alison grins impishly. "You're getting it right, Lucy. Breathe it all in. Throw it all aside. It's loud. It's nighttime. We're doing shots. Become //one// with the system-" Alison blinks, CHORUS. "Well I seem paralyzed, but I seem to be struck by you..."
Lucy	Lucy seems to be taking Alison's advice to heart because she throws her drink back when encouraged. Sure, there's another cough but she seems to take it instride. The girl is grinning the whole while. She follows it with a second. Her hand grasps Alison's then and she nods emphatically. Now Lucy is twisting and dancing in her seat. She hops down so she's better able to move. Some people are watching but no one especially minds apparently. Another shot. A swallow. Tears in the girl's eyes and a warm glow in her cheeks. She grins as Alison returns to her singing. She places her hand on Alison's upper arm then and listens as the song is ending. The tablet soon displays, "I think people are staring at us." She glances at a nearby table. The guy who was most obviously staring quickly looks away. Lucy giggles and nods once, shrugging. Oh, look. Another shot. Licy looks like she is feeling it too, though she's apparently stable enough. Did anyone account for the fact she wears as much as a bundle of twigs?
Dazzler	Alison's taller in her chair. She's taller than Lucy out of it, as well. The height difference between the two returns to its high-heels state when Lucy takes to the floor. With a graceful arch of her spine, Alison rolls her hips, chair-dancing her way through the new song with an arm flopped over her shoulders and a lean into Lucy's fingers. A club girl at heart, the way Alison's eyes roll back? The music, or the dance floor, is where she found herself in life. "That's because." Alison starts, slipping off of her barstool with a strain of jean fabric over the tears. Laughing loudly, Alison throws back her shot and leaves it on the bar. The loud music brings no pain or strain to the Dazzler, she's immune to the noise, but not to the alcohol. Alison reaches out to Lucy's shoulder and pulls her in, turning her hips and cocking her mouth towards Lucy's ear. "That's because he either recognizes me or he's hoping we'll make out or something. Two hot blondes? Your short skirt? Men are predictable as hell, Lucy; you don't gotta worry about him unless he's got a cell phone." Alison grins, leaning back for eye contact. "Dance with me. We're safe."
Lucy	"He thinks we're dating," Lucy observes aftr a glance. Then Alison is meeting he eyes and asking her to dance. The girl immediately nods, still smiling. Lucy is, as it turns out, a very nimble dancer. Alison has to lead but the girl learns pattenrs quickly and she is both graceful and light as a feather. It makes for excellent dancing, even in close quarters. The next song is a little slower and Lucy ends up leaning in fairly close. She keeps her hands with her left in Alison's right and the other on the blonde's waist. Even Lucia seems to be enjoying herself finally, though the alcohol doesn't seem to have produced a prodigious effect. The flush is gone. Dazzler is, of course, more than welcome to continue deep into her cups if she is so inclined. Between dances, of course. Lucy isn't entirely letting go unless the taller blonde is inclined to pull away.
Dazzler	"Oh, I don't doubt it." Alison laughs into her dance. Dipping her head, Alison drapes an arm over Lucy's shoulder into the grind of hips, always leaving one hand open for the drink she's taking in. "Two girls walk in and don't start eyeballing the other guys there? He's waiting to see if we're here together or looking for company." Dancing through her exhaustion, the hour of sleep, the exceptionally unshy pop star has been trained to dance, expressing her way through a few rolling, hip turning moves she used as a hip-hop backup dancer. Then everything slows. It's a good explanation of Alison's night so far. Fast, then slow. After a few drinks, a flush of heat eminates from Dazzler's skin with her close press to Lucy. Her thumb smears over the shorter woman's thumb, and with a pinky finger holding onto a glass of rum and coke, Alison peels a lock of hair away from Lucy's face and rests, cheek to cheek with the woman. "I can't see the screen right now." Alison mutters directly into Lucy's cheek, lips brushing her jaw with her words. "But I was just thinking how good it feels knowing that creeper trying to get at me through the web is gone. I'm breathing so much better now, and...I don't think I ever said thank you." Alison drags her jaw against Lucy's, eyes drifting closed with the lure of the alcohol. "Thank you."
Lucy	Lucy doesn't bother putting anything on the screen for now. there isn't a need. As Alison is leaning in close against Lucy the smaller, stronger girl leans back, supporting her easily as they meet, cheek to cheek. The warmth of her breath places softly against the other woman's neck, lightly teasing th senes with no specific purpose. She runs her thumb back against Alison's in turn, fingers splaying against her companion's wrist and then gently rubbing in an almost exploratory way. Lucy's lips brush against Alison's jaw in turn and she shifts her hips a little bit until they are touching closely, the bare skin on Lucy's lower thigh against the fabric of Alison's dubiously structured jeans. She holds this position for a solid second before urning away just enough, chin against Alison's shoulder. this is the position the young woman intends to hold, it seems, unless she is following Alison's lead. Lucy, for some reason, isn't exhausted. She also isn't drunk, though she had seemed to feel it for a moment. She is, however, warm to the touch to the point of being soothing, and generously soft when pressed into. The thank you draws a smile.
Dazzler	Alison lowers her chin, staring at the back wall not so far away from the two of them. The rush of the night has slowed, replaced by a heightened sense of things. The light way her blonde hair sticks to Lucy's neck, the feel of two bared legs through the holes in her jeans. The weight of the glass in her hand. Pressed in close enough to feel the tiniest bead of sweat forming at the back of her own neck, Alison reaches to the side and sets the glass down on the bar. She blinks through a layer of glass in her eyes and draws her fingertips to Lucy's shoulder. The button in Alison's jeans presses against Lucy's hip, giving way to the tight, flat stomach living beneath the pop star's tanktop. Freshly manicured nails scrape along Lucy's collar, tracing a line to her jaw. There, Alison presses the underside of her thumb to Lucy's neck and presses gently, upwards, lifting Lucy's chin towards hers. With a breath that rolls in slowly, breathing the heat off of Lucy's cheek, Alison holds her breath and captures Lucy's lips with her own. A slow, gentle kiss, Alison holds it, with no rushing interest to let go. Her lashes scrape over Lucy's cheek her eyes close and her fingers delve into the other woman's mane of blonde hair.
Lucy	It takes a second for Lucy to respond. She tenses slightly first when she feels that finger underneath her chin. The young woman lifts her gaze slowly, blue eyes studying Alison's features as her lips are brought upward. She is perched delicately on the balls of her feet now, lips lightly pursed as Alison's capture them. It's obvious that this is not a type of contact she's familiar with. Small fingers curl against Alison's sides, nails lightly pressing into her skin through the thin fabric of that tank top. Lucia leans backward slightly. It's a natural thing to draw Alison in closer as fingertips draw upward along the taller blonde's back. Se parts her lips ever so slightly, tilting her head as their noses start to brush, and presses her lips more intimately still to Alison's own. Lucy's hair is soft on Alison's finger, her slight form gently trembling agianst her as the space between them closes. The younger woman is more than glad to follow Alison's lead, meeting her movements and gently urging the kiss deeper without any force. She caresses the woman's back through her tank top, and eventually her hands find bare skin at the taller blonde's shoulders for her gentle caresses. Lucy holds that position for as long as Alison wishes. Alison, possibly without realizing it, discovers that she can hold her breath far longer than she might expect.
Dazzler	Through the transfer of lips, or the tiny breaths that Alison takes in between, Alison Blaire's mouth softens once her lips are accepted. The first few laps of their lips are testing, finding a rhythm, finding the right angle of her head to accept Lucy's kiss. Alison's mouth tastes sweet, a remnant of the rum on a tongue that dares closer the longer they kiss. It taps against the underside of Lucy's lip, then her teeth. Blindly, Alison streaks her fingers through Lucy's hair, twisting a strand around her fingertip in a playful tug. With the tiniest sense of a smile at the edge of Alison's mouth, she reverberates a pleased sound, leaning back into Lucy's searching fingers against her shoulders. The thin fabric of the tank top doesn't hide the pinch of Alison's shoulderblades as her hands retreat from Lucy's face, cutting down between the arms overtaking her shoulders. The outline of palms smear over the sides of Lucy's shirt until they find her hips. One hand guides Lucy closer, thumb pressing into the skirt. The other, slides around Lucy's hip, dangling fingers over her flank. Then.     Then is precisely when Alison parts her lips further and traces her rum-tinted tongue against Lucy's. Alison pulls Lucy in, tightening the space between their bodies until her thumb is trapped between the sharp hipbones the two share. A warm breath sighs out, painting Lucy's skin...as Alison throws her paranoia away...making out with the woman in the loaded, deafening bar.
Lucy	Now people really are staring. It's a subtle shift in the tempo of the room. The music is slower and the voices are a bit softer, especially close. The guy Lucy mentioned on the far table is wringing his hat in frustration. Lucy notices all of this and none of it matters to her. Finding a rhythm is a matter of practice. The smaller woman is exulting in the press of Alison's lips to hers, and when the singer's tongue sliding against her lips she lets them part slightly further. Lucy's tongue meets it then, caressing Alison's tongue and sliding along it so that she can taste her lips. She follows and mimics Alison's motions, quickly learning the naure of the dance. There is a heated intensity between them, an almost electric frenetic energy that has Lucy's body pressing sharply into Alison's as their hips meet. She lifts herself a little higher, almost gently grinding against her, so that the pressure between them is intense. The heat of their bodies, the slickness of clean perspiration on soft skin, the scent of one another, and the feel of their lips together. Lucy's questing finger tips are digging sharply into Alison's shoulder blades, the slight pinch of nails against skin and the closeness of being held intimately close. Lucia finally loses herself in the moment, letting the music and the woman she is holding both wash over her and sweep her senses away in the joyous euphoria of a first real kiss. It would not be s tretch to say that in this moment Lucia would do anything Alison asked.
Dazzler	Alcohol being what it is, time dilates for Alison Blaire into such a shameless, breathless makeout session beneath a Coors light mirror. She gasps against Lucia's lips, teeth tapping together at the feel of nails digging against her skin and the thread of her tank top, and her electric response is a smear of her palms down Lucia's back, fingers curling against the outline of her flank against her skirt. The heat generated flushes Alison's face, mingling with the alcohol in her blood, and truly...everything warps to Alison's senses. So much, that in the rising want to press Lucia against the wall, she presses her instead against her tall table-chair and scoots it back with a low-toned scrape against the concrete floor. Alison's mind snaps back to the forefront and her blue eyes lid open, remembering where they are. "Get my bag..." Alison whispers into Lucia's lips, pulling back just a little and grazing her fingers around the front of Lucia's abdomen to seek out her hand. "...my car is in the lot." Alison murmurs, lips tugging at Lucia's. "Somewhere. Anywhere. Alone."
Dazzler	"Maybe it's just...nothing." Alison reassures Lucia, wrapping an arm around the woman and hugging her closely. Chin cresting the top of Lucia's blonde hair, Alison scans the parking garage one last time. For all her calm demeanor, the heart within her chest is thudding against Lucia's jaw, cramming adrenaline into her bloodstream. Ten seconds pass and Alison pat-pats the smaller woman's shoulder and begins to squeeze her way over the console and into the driver's seat. Bare toes find the pedals. "But I'm not going to take any chances." Alison tugs a tank top over her head and presses her thumb to the starter button. The key-fob beside her is close enough to start the vehicle. The BMW knows who her mistres is. The car purrs to life and the headlights turn on automatically. The blaringly loud synth-pop album that was playing when she'd parked the car upsets the relative silence of the parking garage. "Get a seatbelt on." Alison commands and slams her palm down on the gearshift. The car rockets backwards in a twist out of the parking space with a roller-coaster lurch.
Lucy	The two women hardly made it to the garage where Alisons car was parked. There was a tense nervousness suffusing them by the time they were into the car and soon enough the mood had been spoiled. Lucy sat in the back of the vehicle, breathlessly watching the darkness with Alison beside her. There had been a sound but nothing else around them seemed to move. What was it? Alison is beside her and the two of them are staring into the darkness together, sitting close. Lucia swallows, hard. Then she is being hugged and reassured, the smaller of the pair all but disappearing into her companion's arms for a long moment. The car comes to life and Lucia tensely places her hands against the window sill. She didn't buckle her seatbelt like she was told to. Instead she watches the darkness of the garage with rapt attention. Then the stereo begins to play. It sings a jingle that ends with, "Come to stay at the Holiday Inn!" before shifting abruptly back to Alison's music of choice.
Dazzler	Tires spin, leaving burning rubber on the floor of the parking garage when Alison throws the vehicle into DRIVE. The gear-shift ratchets and with a final glance to her rear-view, Alison presses down on the gas pedal and shoots the expensive sports car around the corner and up the ramp to the exit of the hotel. On the way, she presses the button on her side that rolls her window down and sticks a hand, fingers pointed like a pistol, towards the front of her car. The wooden arm that keeps the cars from escaping the parking garage is lanced by a blue-violet laser beam that saws it like a knife through hot butter. The beam falls to the ground and a second thereafter, a cherry-red BMW flies out of the parking garage, skids in a turn, and then punches its way through the empty street towards the highway. "Was that you?" Alison's hair whips in her face while the window rolls up. She yells, loud as she can to be heard, over the bass-beat. "Lucia was that Holiday Inn thing you?!" Alison asks again, wincing and pressing on her steering wheel. The music's volume cycles down. "Because...I mean...Holiday Inns are okaaaaaaaayyyy but...I know this resort upstate with in-house omelette chefs."
Lucy	Lucia shrugs and nods, as if she's pretty sure that that's a better option. It was here, she agrees immediately with those nods, watching as the world is streaking by outside the car. Once they've left the garage the young woman is pretty calm, though she looks back past her shoulder to note the road behind them at least a dozen times. Lucy climbs over the seat and into the passenger side at the front. She still doesn't deign to wear a seatbelt, apparently. Blue eyes are wide, intense as they latch onto Alison's and study her for long moments. She finally takes a deep breath and then exhales slowly. Once, then twice. the girl tenses for a long moment before finally turning her gaze to the floor. "...I'm not not sleeping alone tonight," Lucy notes in that quavering, ethereal voice she so rarely uses.