Freakout At The Secret Rave

Log Info

Title: Freakout at the Secret Rave
Emitter: None
Characters: Sasha, Claire
NPCs: None
Place: Campus, and Downtown
Time: Wednesday, 5/5/2010, Late Evening
Summary: {$Summary}

The sun hangs low in the sky as night begins to descend slowly, Campus life in some senses slowing while the nightlife begins to stir slowly. Having finished classes a few hours ago and rushed back to her dorm to unpack and change into something better for the evening, Claire is finally just leaving her dorm and heading out. She's wearing her normal outfit save for the jeans being replaced by a frilly black skirt and her legs covered in black and white stiped stockings all the way up to her thighs. Her backpack is thrown over her shoulder, bouncing as she strides across the Quad on her clunky platform heels. She looks up at the fading sun and grin widely, taking a deep breath and looking around, hoping to see one of the new people she's met in the last two days.

Sasha's not one to disappoint. In fact, she has something of a project in the works. Up on the roof of the Student Center, Sasha's found her way to the ledge, standing and looking down at the quad below. Then she leaps.

Huge, straight wings on Sasha's back flex, bowing down as they take Sasha's weight. Her flight's slightly erratic, bowing left and right, prone to sudden dips, as she races along towards the quad. As she comes lower and lower, the ground effect kicks in, bouying her a few feet from the ground as she races up past the dark-clad girl. Sasha finally slows enough that she tucks up her legs and tries to nail the landing. She fails, tripping head over heals and winding up sprawled on her back on the grass.

Well, it had to happen eventually that Claire would see another student flying in this School for Underage Freaks but she never expected it to be in such a relatively conventional way. Seeing the apparently violent crash, the junior Goth in training heels is only stunned for a moment before she breaks into a run as quick as she can and comes clomping over shouting, "Oh my God, are you ok?" Well, that's one way to get past her 'too cool for school' veneer, cause a potentially personally lethal engineering disaster.

Sasha winces. She shifts and lifts her hand to her head, rubbing her temple. "I think…" she asys as she arches her back and finally sits up, "I hit my pride." Her wings shimmer silver, shrinking and then melting away. Sasha's dressed casually, in jeans that don't quite hide the chunky shape of her legs, and a halter that made room for her just-retracted wings, also leaving her metal arms bare. "Sometimes you just gotta test this shit out, you know?" she asks. "

Offering a hand up, Claire looks the other girl over and doesn't ask the obvious question. "Yeah, I guess sometimes the only way to see if something works is to throw yourself off a building. Personally, I've never tried that but hey, more power to you for taking the risks while I stay safe on the ground." There's a teasing edge to her words but her smile is genuine enough, if a tad lopsided.

Sasha grasps Claire's hand, utgging to help herself up. She's heavier than she looks. "Oh fuck you," Sasha says, although without any vitriolic oomph behind her voice. "You can simulate this shit until doomsday but eventually you have to test it directly. You can't simulate everything, certainly can't get the feel and agility of things," Sasha explains. "Anyway, crashes don't hurt like they used to."

Almost toppling over at the sudden extra weight of the other girl makes it clear that Claire definitely doesn't qualify in the upper echelons of strength for the Institute. She just manages to keep her balance by leaning backwards away from Sasha. Sasha's profanity makes her grin a bit wider then before she replies, "You have a point but you'll never get me off of the ground higher than a few feet. Um…" she decides that since the other girl brought it up, she's ok to ask, "You're a cyborg then, right?" She winces at how lame and n00bish her question sounds, even to her own ears.

Now *that* puts a smile on Sasha's face. "Totally am," she says, "Mega points for not calling me either a robot or android." Sasha adjusts her top and brushes grass off her jeans. "I can hardly fly myself, don't think I'm ready to take passengers yet."

Seeming a bit more proud of herself since she apparently got the first hurdle over with, Claire grins. "The whole pain thing was a dead giveaway, Tinker Toys don't say 'ow'." She chuckles and takes her hand back, sliding it behind her back to clasp with the other as she takes a bow. "I am Claire Hastings, I'm the New Kid on campus, just got here two days ago. They call me Voyuer because I see things." She stands back up and makes her heavily made-up eyes go as wide as she can to try and look spooky, "I see -everything-."

"Think I heard something about you," she says. "Sasha Romanova. If you don't know who I am, I so have to call my agent," she says with a roll of her eyes. "And…they call me Hybrid. Part of this 'everybody has codenames' bullcrap." She pauses a beat. "Everything?" she asks.

Claire blinks in shock and says, "Wow… you're her! I mean, I'm not the world's biggest sports buff but I know about you. Mom used to use you as a threat when Dad took me out riding on his Harley." She forces herself to calm down and then chuckles nervously, "Um.. sorry, first time I've met anyone sorta famous before. Totally lost my cool there and yeah, if I concentrate hard enough I can see anywhere on Earth and all the way out to the Moon… on a good day. I can also kinda, sometimes, see the future which isn't as cool as it sounds. I can't give winning lotto numbers but I can semi-accurately tell you what they'll be serving in the Vomitorium next year on this day."

Sasha smiles. She feigns bashfulness but it's clear she's thrilled at actually being recognized. "Only marginally famous," she says. "'Don't go with your father or you'll wind up like that Sasha girl'?" she asks. "My parents were always…encouraging. Too bad yours suck," she says. Sasha twists, generating a few faint pops from her spine. "That blows," she says, "What good is knowing *that*. I want lotto numbers! I want race results! I want election returns! Give me shit I can use!" She pauses a beat. "And how didn't you know I was about to do that," she says, gesturing to her wobbly flight path from the roof.

Rubbing the back of her neck a bit, Claire shrugs. "My Precog only really kicks in when I want it to or when I'm in danger. I guess since you weren't about to hit me, it didn't go off." She does frown a little, "My folks don't really suck, they were kinda strict but that's what I guess you get when Dad's ex-military and Mom's a Teacher. Dad was pretty cool about things, Mom's the worrywort. You want things you can use? Well, maybe I can find out where the next underground Rave is going to be, Jerry showed me some of the spots last night and with that info, I can get a better idea of where the next big party is gonna go down."

"Good to keep you from getting offed, I guess," Sasha observes. "Did I not hit you because I wasn't going to, or did I not because your power told you I wouldn't? Man, shit like that gives me a headache," she says. "Don't think your dad's bikes would be my style, still, Harleys are good machines. Especially the old ones, before they went to shit."
Sasha does a double take. "Jerry!?"

"Dad's was a '77, still had the military plates on it." She takes a step back at the other girls's reaction to the mention of Jerry. "Um… yeah. He took me out on his bike last night to see the town. He promised he would when we met on my first day here. Um…" something dawns on her rather quickly, "Oh God, you're not like dating or anything are you cause if you are it wasn't like that, really, he's not even my type. I mean… he's cool and all but… sorry." Her cheeks flush red, showing off the little bits of pale concealer covering her latest outbreak of acne.

Sasha whistles. "Sweet," she says. Sasha shifts her weight and looks over Claire. "Guess he's playing the field," she says, darkly, "Nah, not dating. Tried to wow the pants off me last night though," she says. Sasha tilts her head back, runs her fingers through her hair and then straightens back up. "Fuck it. CAn't be pissed at somebody with such neat shoes."

Relaxing a little as Sasha seems more or less ok with things, Claire offers the hint of a smile. "Thanks, almost all my shoes are like this. I just got this awesome pair of platform Mary Janes before I came to school, haven't worn those yet, was planning to save them till I break out the Schoolgirl look." Still, there is something nagging at her. "Um, should I be careful around him is he like… dangerous?"

Sasha's legs ripple underneath the jeans, as her feet adjust and turn into platforms, lifting her up numerous inches. "No more dangerous than other boys," Sasha weighs in. "Take that for what it's worth." She twists again. "Where were you off to?" she asks, finally curious about that topic.

Claire seems to be caught flat-footed by that question, "Um, well… I was going to go into town and see what the night life I was told about is actually like. That or hit a few of those old bookstores. Only trouble with that is, I don't know what the bus schedules are like or if they even run this time of night and, as you can probably tell, I'm a little young to drive or have a car of my own."

Sasha's face lights up. "Oh fucking perfect!" she declares, grabbing Claire by the hand. She starts off, dragging the girl across the quad, past the student center and towards the parking lot. "So how much did your dad teach you?" she asks. She saunters up towards a motorcycle, one that Claire probably recognizes. Jerry's. Sasha leans against it, running her fingers over the lock and trying to get it to start.

The sudden grab and drag leaves Claire staggering a bit until they reach their destination. "Um… I know a little, not a great deal but enough." Looking at the bike, Claire bites her bottom lip, inadvertently getting a little of her lipstick on her teeth. She's a bit nervous about taking Jerry's bike, but she doesn't want to say anything and be seen as a loser either. "You want me to try and figure out what the combination on that is, don't you?"

"Way…." Sasha says, her eyes going out and looking into the distance as she focuses on the feel of the lock. It clicks. Sasha twists her hand and the bike roars to life. She gets up, smirking at Claire. "So, where are we going?" she asks. Her lower half beings to morph and twist, stretching out into her cycle-form.

Claire closes her eyes and concetrates for a minute, when she opens them again, they seem unfocused and blank. "Ok… searching, searching." She purses her lips and takes a deep breath, "Not there, no… um… no. Ok, got it." She snaps out of it, blinking and her eyes refocus. "Warehouse district, old abandoned place across the street from Giordano's Pizza. Looks like a possible warehouse party going down. I'm getting a weird feeling from it but it seems to be the only one going down tonight." She grabs a helmet and slaps it on before straddling the bike and hoping she's got the skills to use it.

Sasha waits patiently as Claire searches. "The eye thing is kinda freaky," she says. "AWesome, I know where that is," she says. Sasha twists, revving her engine and making a quick circuit about Claire. "I'll keep it slow for yah," she offers.

Slapping the kickstand back and realizing just how big this bike is, Claire gives a nod to Sasha and takes off. She's pretty glad she remembered to pack some extra makeup in her bag for the night, she'll have to redo a lot of it when they get where they are going. She has a kind of bad feeling about this but not the tingling in the back of her head that says "DANGER CLAIRE HASTINGS DANGER!" More just the nerves of a kid knowing she's breaking the rules to have a bit of fun. Still, taking off on a motorcycle herself for once is pretty thrilling and it's not long before she's sitting a bit higher in the seat and grinning like a madwoman as the pair takes curves and head into town.

Sasha has to fight her natural racing instincts as the two leave campus. Somebody might stop them but nobody does, and once they're off campus it's fairly clear sailing down into Cove City. Sasha's not acting quite like the maniac she was last night, topping out around sixty and actually stopping for stop lights and holding the lane with Claire. They roll up to the street and they can see the crowd outside the party.

Claire stops the bike about a block away and finds a place to secure it, hoping no one tries to steal it. She slips off and tugs off the helmet, skaing out her pigtails and reaching into her back for her lipstick to put it back on in place. "Ok, I hope they don't have a problem with a couple of kids trying to get in. I'd hate to have to do anything they might regret." She waggles her pencil-thin eyebrow and smirks mischeivously, secretly just glad she didn't wipe out on the way down here.

Sasha comes to a stop next to Claire, shifting back into her bipedal form. She goes with the blue-plated legs and rakish miniskirt, a fitting match to the halter from earlier. Sasha actually looks ready to party. She turns about, walking backwards and looking at Claire. "Did you miss the memo? I'm *famous*!"

Claire grins wickedly and tosses her head back, doing a little spin as she dances out in front. "Well, in that case, let's party!" She tosses her bag back over her shoulder and struts towards the club, adding a little exaggerated wiggle to her hips, trying to look more mature. "This is going to be so great!"

It's strange to watch such a gothy looking girl twirl like some perky thing like twirling around. Sasha spins back around and goes up to the door, bypassing the line and going straight through to the bouncer. "VIP," she says with a smile. She's hoping the bouncer will remember the 'racer' part of her bio and forget the 'teen' part. Sasha checks for Claire. "This is my plus one," she says.

Is amazed at how easily they just stroll on in, she even gives the bouncer a sassy, finger-wiggling wave with her mesh-gloved, black-painted nailed hands. Once they are inside, she stops in her tracks and stares at the scene of so many young people in so few clothes writhing and dancing to an almost infectious beat. She's not really much of a Raver, having had some seriously bad experienced with them in the past, but she has to admit this looks like a ton of fun. "So," she says loudly, having to almost shout over the beat, "What next?"

Sasha worms her into th old warehouse, coming to the railing and looking down at the huge rave below them. "Fuckin' awesome!" she declares. "You fit in better than I do," she says, pointing to Claire's gloves and her skirt. "Can't wear those anyway. Hell, I say we find drinks, boys, and a wild night. Not necesarially in that order."

Nodding enthusiastically, her pigtails bouncing on either side of her head, Claire follows Sasha into the club and looks around at everything, especially all the hot guys and occasionally a few of the girls, if only to make mental notes for things to add to her wardrobe. She's not sure how the drinks part is going to go, especially as she's never had anything stronger than her favorite pomegranate juice but she's willing to try anything to make a new friend. "Well, it's the Madonna look, you know, '80s chic, it never goes out of style."

Sasha watches too, looking over the people who flit about. She shoves her way through the crowd. "You mean torpedo bras and making out with pop singers?" Sasha asks. She gest ot the bar and looks at Claire. "What's your poison?" she asks.

"Well, there are worse things than tongue-kissing a hot blonde on stage." She's teasing of course and thinks hard, trying to come up with something appropriate to her personal idiom. "Absinthe." She lets the word trail off her tongue and tosses in a bit of her own, natural, Southern accent as well. She giggles to her own over-the-top reply, "But failing that, I don't know, beer?" She just assumes Sasha means alcohol, never letting the idea of soft drinks cross her mind.

"'Course there are! I am a hot blonde and I've always gotten good reviews," Sasha says. "Bold. Never tried that," she says. "Drunk lots of stuff, done some amphetimines, but never absinthe." She practiclaly lunges at the bartender and after a quick conversation, she winds up with a bottle of green liquor, two glasses and spoons and some cubes of sugar. Sahsa takes her haul to a bar table, setting out the glasses. "Bartender gave me instructions," she says. She sets the spoons out over the glasses and puts a sugar cube on each one, then pours the liquor over the cubes. Sasha picks up her glass. "Skoal!" she declares.

Claire actually seems to know how to do this pretty well. "The old spoons used to have slots in them to let the absinthe drip through the sugar. Some of those old time spoons can go for big bucks these days. I saw one on eBay for like 300 dollars once." She lifts her glass and shrugs in a 'what the hell' manner before saying "Slainte!" With that, she tips the glass back and lets some it slide down her throat, which instantly makes her cough and choke a bit. Total newb.

"Really? Crap. Now you tell me. I could have *made* slotted spoons. Not that had," Sasha says. She shrugs and downs the whole glass. She's not sure that's what's supposed to happen either but the glass seems like the right size for shots. "Sweeeet!" Sasha says with a grin. "Intense!" she says. "Hey! Let's dance!"

Trying to stay on the same page as the much more experienced girl, Claire forces herself to down her entire glass and slams it down onto the table. "Alright! That's what I came for, a bit of dancing!" She gets to her feet and bows to Sasha before heading out to the dance floor, a few eyes following her out there. She's not bad, though her dance style is a bit… odd. She tends to twists and move about, writing in place occasionally in a slower way than most of the others, letting the music wash over her and dictate her movements more than conscious thought.

Sasha's style's fast and frenetic, expressing abundant energy as she gets out among the crowd. She pinballs from dance partner to dance partner, cutting in on groups and couples, finding people dancing alone to brighten their day with. The cyborg girl uses lots of sensuous motion bomined with some basic footwork that seems based on classic dance modes. It gets her a distinct amount of interest, some of which spills over to Claire, as a young gaunt fellow comes up to her and starts dancing with her.

Smiles at the guy and lifts one eyebrow as she dances a bit away from Sasha and makes a 'come here' motion with her index finger in the sexiest way she can. She's here to cut loose, have fun and enjoy herself tonight and she's not about to let anything get in her way, especially not with a cocktail of high proof alcohol mixed with extract of wormwood working it's way through her system and firing neurons she wasn't even aware of.

The guy see the crooked finger the swaying hips, the distinct look of invitation. How can he say no to that? He move in and tentatively puts his hands on Claire's hips. Behind him, Claire catches sighs of Sasha, dancing with - and it appears making out with - some amazonian redhead.

Grinning and biting her bottom lip in a way she's seen in clubs before, Claire invites the guy into one of the less well-lit corners of the club, where a pair of goth kids look more in their element. She doesn't shy away when he places his hands on her hips and instead wraps her arms around the back of his neck. Noticing Sasha, she winks to her, a little thrill of something beyond sensual running up her spine from the guy and the way things seem to be moving this evening. And if Sasha wants to make out with a hot girl, more power to her!

Whatever experimenting Sasha's up to doesn't last long. Just as Claire and girl girl are starting to find their groove, Sasha lets out a scream. She shoves the girl away and stumbles, staggering through the crowd. Claire feels a flash, a sense of intense pressure and pain, jittery motion and horrible loud noises. It's very disorienting.

Right in front of her prospective dance partner, Claire suddenly doubles over in pain, as if a headache just hit her hard. She clears from it quickly enough and tries to shove past the guy, totally blowing him off to go after Sasha. "Wait, hold up! What's going on!" She will use force if she has to to get through the crowd and find her new friend, "You ok? Was it the drinks?"

Worse than a headache, it's as if every part of Claire is on fire. The effect fades slowly, bit by bit. Sasha's course can be tracked through the path she's left, broken drinks and a couple kncoked over tables. Claire tracks her down a side hall, towards what appears to be the bathrooms. There's few people, the music's muffled and it all looks rather unclean. Sasha's back in a corner at the end of the hall, crying punctuated by occasional wails.

Fighting past her own psychic agony, Claire puts a hand to one side of her head and lurches towards Sasha. "What's wrong? Oh my God, are you ok? Should I call a Doctor or the school or…" She doesn't know what to do so she just kneels down next to the older girl and reaches out a hand to rest on her shoulder. "Come on… tell me what's wrong."

"Can't feel my legs," Sasha wails. The psychic chaff coming off Sasha's stronger now. Claire can feel her skin peeling and cracking, while her legs start to feel numb and leaden and her fingers respond slowly to her commands, as if waking up from a long nap.

Slumping down next to Sasha, Claire nods and grits her teeth. She's more used to psychic phenomena these days but the booze is really doing a number on her senses. "Is it a mechanical problem or… something else?" She really wants to get to the bottom of this and make it stop, still, it's so hard to concentrate that it's taking a supreme act of will not to cry out and just fall over. "I'm calling the school." She fishes with numbing fingers into her backpack for her phone and tugs it out, dropping it and scrabbling about clumsily.

The phone hits the floor with an annoying plastic clack, skittering away from the two of them. Sasha's twitching and wailing, although her limbs appear to be stopped in the last pose they hit. Sasha's eyes are bloodshot and red from the tears, which have fallen to dampen her halter. They go wide, looking at Claire finally, and she's still breathing heavily.

Claire reaches out, her hands so numb she cannot move her fingers, and moves to hug Sasha, trying to be reassuring. "Can you talk? What's wrong? Is there anything I can do? God, I'm so useless with tech stuff." She does something she tried to avoid before, reaching out to read Sasha's mind, just her surface thoughts though, trying to get a feel for just what is wrong. Not being a true telepath, she can't send any thoughts or try and dampen the pain, but she might be able to find the source.

The surface thoughts of Sasha remain tremendously jumbled. Claire can see the thoughts in Sasha's mind, a few seconds of experience at most. Motion, rapid motion, and then a feeling of falling, of pain and of fire. Sasha's heart races. Her hand finally twitches, clutching Claire's tightly and she swallows hard. "I….It feels so real…." she says thought the pain.

Claire's no moron and she can get a feel for just what is happening. "You're reliving the accident!" Her words come as a gasp of sudden realization and she holds Sasha close. "It's not happening now, that was the past. You're going to be ok, I'm here with you, we're in a club, things are going to be ok. Just take a deep breath, try and relax, focus on my voice. Just listen to me. Come back to now." Yeah, it's cliched as Hell but movies and TV are her only real frame of reference for this stuff.

Sasha has no real frame of reference herself. She's had therapy and the nightmares stopped over a year ago. Now, though, it's all back with a vengance. Sasha grits her teeth and looks over at Claire, moving just her eyes. She breathes harshly though her teeth. "Club?" she asks. A bit of realization hits her, pushing through all the psychic crap in her head. "Fuck," she whispers. "You had a cute guy," she says.

"And if I'd known you had a thing for redheads I would never have dyed my hair tonight," Claire quips with a relived, slightly worn smile on her face. "You're ok now. We'll be fine, just sit here and take it easy. When you're ready, we can go back and rejoin the party or we can go home, totally up to you." She thinks for a moment, "Do you need something to drink? I have bottled water in my bag, always take some clubbing so I don't have to pay the prices at the clubs."

Sasha feels a tensing in her stomach and coughs a few times, winding up spitting bile on the floor. She wipes at her mouth with the back of her hand, letting out a pained groan. "Water," she says with an agreeable nod. Her head's pounding but thankfully, Claire can feel Sasha's hallucination fading. "Yer a redhead?" she asks.

Fishing in her backpack for a bottle, she hands it over to Sasha with a nod. "Yeah, originally. I just do the black hair thing to look different from my Mom." She gets a bottle for herself then slumps against the wall next to Sasha and sits there, her knees pulled up to her chest, taking intentionally slow and deep breaths. "And you know, cause it's Gothic."

Sasha stares at Claire. Finally she goes, "Oh." Sasha's hand wobbly wraps about the bottle and brings it shakily to her lips, taking a sip. "Absinthe," she says with a frown. "Bad, bad shitty idea," she says.

Nodding in total agreement, Claire closes her eyes and rides a sudden wave of nausea. "Yeah, next time, you pick the drinks and next time, I won't dye my hair. Deal?" She seems sudden very tired and just sits there, continuing her steady, slow breathing, hugging her knees to her chest and occasionally sipping at her water.

Sasha does the same, waiting patiently for the full feeling of the alcohol and the hallucinogens pass. She tilts the water and takes another sip. "I didn't….didn't think absinthe did that, anymore," she says. A faint nod. "Deal." Sasha looks at herself. "I…think I'm okay now," she says. "Go," she pats Claire's side, "find that boy."

Shaking her head, Claire just sits there. "Nope. Not until you're ready to get up and find your girl. I'm here with you for the long haul." She's not about to walk out on anyone who just had a full blown flashback to the worst day of their life. "That's what friends do."

"You barely know me," Sasha points out. She puts the bottle of water down and tries to get up, a proccess that happens slowly and with much help from the wall.

"I know you better than you think," Claire sighs, pushing off the floor and getting up to help Sasha if she has to. "I… I had to go inside your head to figure out what was going on. I saw what you were going through. I know some of what you've been through." She offers a hand and a slight smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"Oh," Sasha says. That's well on the way to being her catch phrase for the evening. "Sucks to be you," she says. Sasha fetches the bottle of water and takes another drink of it. Sasha shifts her weight again and tries to stand, which she manages to do without falling over. "You don't get superpowers from it."

"No, in my case I get Superpowers from my Mother being doped up on Psychic enhancement drugs ten years before I was born by the military looking for a way to spy on people better. Almost killed Mom and killed whatever powers she had," Claire sighs, "But it ensured her daughter was born as a freak." She takes a step out, back towards the dance floor. "You sure you want to go back out there and not just home?"

Sasha's eyes twitch. "Fuck me," she says. "That blows," she adds. "You're a spy-weapon?" she asks. Sasha takes a step, and finds it works decently well, and so takes another.

"Yeah, no, sorta." Claire sighs again and runs a hand through her hair. "The year I was born, the project was cancelled for 'not showing results' and everyone thought I was a normal kid. I was until, well, until I got my firest period and then in addition to cramps and bleeding and feeling like total shit, I had a massive migraine and went into a coma for three days. When I woke up, I could hear what people were thinking and could see things so far away it scared me to death…" She pauses to take another deep breath. "Long story short, the spooks who wanted to make people like me don't know they succeeded."

Sasha stops, just before getting back out to the dance floor and turns around to look at Claire. "You just trying to one-up me for crisis stories?" she asks.

Claire shakes her head and laughs. "You got me beat all the way around. Now, I think we have some dancing to do. I think I see your redhead over there." She points to the glamazon and then looks around for her wannbe vampire.

Sasha eeeehs slowly. "Maybe," she says, her eyes have been caught by a rather built fellow passing towards the bar. "Lotta choices," she asays. Just before Claire passes out of range, Sasha nudges her on the shoulder. "Hey, Claire?"

Claire turns and looks at Sasha, fully ready to just walk out on the dance floor and find a new partner, since her skinny boy seems to have vanished. "Yeah?"

Maybe he is a vampire. Sasha's not worrying about that right now. "You're pretty awesome. Thanks."

Grinning really widely now, shocked by the sudden compliment, Claire nods and replies. "And you're pretty fucking badass when you wanna be." With that, she heads off back to the crowd, really glad she snuck out for the night.

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