That 70s Show
04.12.2016
In which the ladies attend an Oingo Boingo show in California in 1979; Keirra gets the party started, Saila gets her violence on and also starts a movement, Little Brother Harshes the Bong, and generations of spooky kids are forever indebted to Jackie for saving Danny Elfman's ears.
Jackie rounded up the ladies, and deciding that she should go in with the fab hair colors, hers was deep, Joker Green and flayed out into wonderful wings that fell into Medusa coils down her back. Black Dittos, combat boots, an old military shirt cropped and decorated with badges, buttons, and Sharpy worn over a black Bikini top. And such Make up. So Glam, and smeared properly punk. Lace mitt gloves and a Spanish armada's worth of tarnished silver necklaces, bracelets, and such. Once she had them ready, the drive wouldn't seem long at all. If either of them were sensitive to such things, they would feel time peeling open, allowing them to move through it rather than to exist within it. From RhyDin to Huntington Beach in the blink of an eye. The vehicle rolled from a paved road near the marketplace to a freeway off ramp. Instead of driving in her little convertible, she'd borrowed Dad's other Ride -- and thus they pulled up to the Golden Bear in a long, low, sleek '50s Caddy hearse. They were garnering attention well before they got out of the car, oh yes. The sun was setting in a glory of gold and red, the loudspeakers were playing the Mighty Met --KMET radio. And the line was about a half block long and loud and rowdy. They wouldn't have long to wait once they got in line.
Saila had spent the afternoon poring over the bag of clothes Jackie had left with her the night before with her Rogue sometimes-roommie, plowing through all the spandex with one hand while looking at the Internets on her spectacularly gaudy cellphone with the other. Finally, she'd settled on an outfit she thought she could approximate -- braiding long, violently violet tresses into messy pigtails, she donned a black t-shirt with some faded band logo on it, taken apart and tied back together along the back so that it fit more snugly, covered by a leather jacket that she'd spent a painstaking hour or two decorating with safety pins. She took a pair of short shorts and cut the hems off the legs to make them even shorter, pairing them with a pair of lacy black thigh highs so it still felt like her legs were covered. Finally a pair of combat boots, lower and less modern than the pair she normally favored. So much eyeliner. All the eyeliner. And then a little more eyeliner just to be safe.
Her hands were decorated in a scattering of rings as usual. Around her neck she wore her usual necklaces, and added a spiked dog collar for good measure (Don't let Quinn catch her wearing that). The last piece of the look, the activation of an enchantment -- one that made her skin seem perfectly pristine. Not an ounce of color anywhere on her arms or neck. Weird.
It took some convincing on Saila's end to get Keirra out of the bed, but once she had, the rogue was up and getting ready. This was new to her, trying to pick out a style, but with Saila's help, she had done pretty well to fit in with the girls. Keirra had a style all her own--it was called the 'put whatever you want on and go' style. Half the time, she hadn't brushed her hair, the other half it was yanked up. Now? Now she had jagged bangs and mostly straight hot pink locks. She, too wore a pair of black dittos, with a dark gray shirt and no bra--not that she needed one, there wasn't much to hold up. Keirra had emptied out her bag-of-holding to include only a few grenades, a sword, and a strange looking bottle, and a few bottles of booze.
Don't worry, Saila, she fully planned to jump around the girl's neck if Quinn came out. Nobody would see! As she sat in the back seat of the car, she stared out the window. She hadn't really noticed the ripple in time, or whatever the hell it was, mostly because she seemed to be a little bit out of it since she woke up. Eyes rolled around, and she opened the door, stumbling out of the car. Silent, strangely so, she waited for instructions. They were gonna sneak in places and steal ****, right? Please tell her there would be stealing.
Jackie wasn't a police officer, and there was a lot of stuff to be found around the venue. A lot of drunk, stoned people, too! She parked the hearse and rolled out, taking a moment to swoosh, toss her hair and pose. Hello, World. Looked like the Runaways were checking out the joint. With that dazzling Princess grin, Jackie turned to open the passenger side door and bring out the pink and purple. Heads were turning. There was more than enough light to get a load of these three. One catcall later, and Jackie lifted her arms and whooped loudly. Wake up time! Not that she'd explained much of anything to Keirra and Saila, but it was distinctly her intention to be Noticed. They would need all of their skills in vaginamancy to get back stage. Back stage would have more opportunities to swipe stuff, too. A lot of people milling about, the smell of weed and beer and tobacco on the air, once they were out, Jackie would lead them for the line. But there were so many pretty boys and girls around. Whew!
Jackie was making quite a commotion all on her own, trust. And then she opened the passenger door of that EPIC hearse (So Saila's a little in love?) and the first thing out the door is a miracle mile of legs in lacy black stockings. Peeling herself out of the car, Saila stood a full nine and a half inches taller than the Joker esque gothabilly princess, and almost a foot over the pink haired vixen that stepped out behind her. It was lofty, rarified air, and gave the mercurial muse a lightning bolt of adrenaline. For half a second before attention divided again, it was All Eyes On Saila.
A grin split pale lips then, and she toyed with the end of one of those long long loooooong pig tails. Strange eyes swiveling from one partner in crime to the other, she just kind of... bathes in all that white hot focused attention. "I get the feeling this is going to be a blast," she breathed. "...No wait. What's the phrase? Far Out."
Eyes shifted from Jackie, to Saila, she wasn't a leggy gothic beauty like Saila, and she couldn't work it like Jackie. So she was the little companion, who was still mostly high. She slammed the door shut behind her, and was herded into the line. "I can't believe I'm not wearing a bra. This feels strange, and kinda nice.. Like boob emancipation.." There was a gentle hop, and not much jiggle. "Mm... So what's the plan?"
So many stares for all of that leg and lady. Photos were taken, a few people simply taking photos, some working for local papers, some mistaking the girls for possibly models or other performers. Pink did have a Debbi Harry vibe going on, after all, Purple was smoking hot, and Green was workin' it with perfect smiles, waves, and poses. Once they were in line... "We should free all the nips," she announced, loud enough to garner a lot of stares, both offended, impressed, and interested. A few girls took up the suggestion, and the bras were coming off! Pulled out from under shirts and tops, it was a ripple of jiggling that went up and down the line. "We get in, enjoy music, make for the right side of the stage. Then we shake down the bouncer and get him to let us pass." that she spoke much quieter, because hey, everyone didn't need her epic plan. There were windows overhead, incidentally, and word of the Boob Catch and Release Plan was getting up there.
Saila followed the other two into line, stalking the concrete like a jungle cat in heat. Blinking once or twice to clear her focus once they'd settled in place, the teenager was trying hard to make herself see like a normal person. The world here seemed to be in sepia tones, like someone had thrown a red veil over all the lights. Just... a few degrees dimmer than she was used to. Took some adjusting.
Shifting her weight from one boot to the other, Saila grinned, nudging Keirra lightly in the side. "Check it out," she hummed, bending at the waist to whisper in the other girl's ear. "That guy over there is staring at you like you're a betty to the Max." Mainlining energy, it was a damn good thing she had that enchantment in place. Otherwise she'd be glowing like a Christmas tree.
Keirra had been twirling Saila's bra in two fingers. How does she do that? One would never know, but Saila had probably been dulled to the experience by now. "This is like... eight of mine," she said, examining the large cup size. Though the knockout's breasts weren't super big, Keirra's were barely-there small. Then Saila was whispering in her ear, and she followed the gaze. "A betty to the what?" Yeah, she couldn't just touch people and pick up the lingo, Saila! Speak in English!
"So hot, you're chill, so cold you're baking," Jackie translated, getting her groove on to the music pl... Dude. Keirra totally just lightfingered Saila's bra. Jackie stared, wide eyed, and then whooped a laugh. "Chickiboo's got it going on, look at these!" They may have been briefly blinded by the nervous firefly flash of cameras when Jackie made honk honk motions up by Saila's hooters. The line was moving, and a group of Surfer Boys were grinning and gesturing to the girls. Move up in the line! Surfer boys so pretty and tan and blond and not all that bright. Pookha shell necklaces, visors, and OP shorts.
Saila snickered. It was true - Keirra stole her underthings so often the girl hardly noticed anymore. And it was a simple matter of physics -- the purple girl was frightfully skinny... for her size, but her size had her nearly a foot above her companions. Her clothes, small though they were, likely wouldn't fit either dame. So it goes with her bra. Modest on an amazon, not so much on a pixie. The girl shrugged helplessly at Jackie. "This is a thing she does. Best not to question the Ways of the Rogue." She intoned, like she was a cult leader.
Turning her attention on Keirra, she translated both phrases. "It's ...the local lingo for... you're super hot." She nodded, a grin lingering in the corners of her mouth. "See? These surfer kids think so too." Advancing in the line, she picked out a particular boy, dumb as a box of hair but about her height and easy on the eyes. "What's your name, fella?" Saila would ever so casually drape an arm around his neck.
Oh yes, no questioning the rogue. That was just stupidity at its finest! Keirra tossed the bra around her neck and listened to Saila explain. "Uh... Yeah, I think they're looking at you, hot stuff," she said with a shake of her head. Most guys didn't want bony chicks with the body type of a twelve year old male--and in Keirra's mind, she was still fat from giving birth. So she watched Saila in action, and when the super girl was distracted, she fished in her bag for the bottle and opened it. Attached to the lid was an eye dropper, and she put exactly one drop of the toxin on her tongue before capping it.
Before answering, the tall lad had to first look around to his mates, wide eyed, with that 'check it out!' look on his face. Then he stammered out "Uhm. Brent." Because of course he was a Brent. Jackie chortled and skipped along as the line got moving, turning and gesturing to them all. All, now, because a knot of five surfer lads were all happily circling around them, save for the Brent, in Saila's clutches. A few noticed Keirra's quick dip into what they assume was Amyl Nitrate, and thus, the small pipe of weed started to pass around. Jackie took only a token toke, she needed her wits, but the others were free to partake. That skinny waif look wasn't quite "in" during the '70s, but there were plenty to appreciate all of the body types. Some even too much, but that's why Jackie was always armed. So far, no one was too grabby or pushy. Jackie had their tickets, and she'd pass them over once they got to the door.
Yeah, but Keirra had that Twiggy thing going on, and Twiggy, though maybe past her prime, was still a thing. Saila took the pipe when it came her way. Pot was one of the only things that affected her even a little, and even that only worked for thirty minutes at a time or so. Her metabolism was insane. Taking a deep inhale, she starts to hand it off to the Rogue, catching her in the act of putting that bottle away. Head tilting curiously, she passed the pipe on to Brent instead.
Moving forward when the line did, the girl broke away from Brent with a nonchalant little wave when they stepped through the door. "This place vibrates with an energy I've never felt on Earth before," she murmured to her companions. Now that she'd gleaned a thorough education on the late 70s from dear Brent, she felt comfortable, adaptable. Chameleon. Someone should maybe teach her about psychedelics.
Following after like a good little sheep, the little thing felt the effects take to her body almost instantly. She was staring at her hands, "...I feel like I could set things on fire with my hands right now..." said the strung out little creature. "Like, just touch, and pffft! Flame." Miming an explosion with her hands.
The information on Psychedelics would come from the tall, dark glass of ink Saila walked on into. He could have been Alice Cooper with those long stringy dark curls, the dark eyes behind dark shades, long pale arms and a bowler hat. "Hey, there, pretty purple... Pink. Green. Dayamn." He noted reverently. Jackie swarmed around the man, he was a bit older than the other lads, twenty five, thirty, in there. They'd have just a few moments to say anything more, the band was already on stage and finishing their warm up. A wild eyed creepy lady, with that Morticia vibe, crooned at Keirra, watching her hands. "Little moth to flame," the woman grinned. That, and Jackie leaned to peer around the woman's shoulder to catch hopefully Keirra's eye. She pointed several times at the tall gent ogling Saila. She held up a key. She pointed at the man. Key. Man. Steal Man Key. Miming all that, until some very drunk young man thought she was dancing. So. She danced!
"Cane does that. Smells terrible." Saila missed all the miming. Damn near body checked by the tall dark and broody in front of her, her attention was fixed primarily on him. "Well hi there," she purred, 'catching' herself on her hands on his chest. "Oopsie." The smile on pale lips was coy, her fingers moving to smooth down his shirt where she'd inadvertently wrinkled it.
God, why didn't she do that before Keirra was high as ****? Still, she got the memo, and with Saila doing her end by distracting the man, Keirra danced around her and all but bumped into him. Her body slammed into his and she fell and hit the floor. A loud 'oof!' left her pretty lips, and she brushed a few locks from her face. "**** me, that hurt..." she mumbled.
"What do we have here?" The man crooned, taking in Saila's look with a wide and creepily charming grin. "You three have got the foxy chick award forever. You should meet me out back, we can talk." Talk, have a quickie against the hearse, whichever. He was easy. More than that, he was one of the promoters. But he wasn't giving out passes as easily as he'd offer a quick one out back. He shifted when Keirra body slammed him, hardly off balance. Mosh pits happen. The goth woman chortled and reached down to give Keirra a hand up. "**** you? Not here, maybe later," she cooed. Jackie was trying not to cackle, keeping a keen eye. She could see the back stage door, and the bouncer, but they may have an easier way in than even a swiped key.
Saila's hands told her everything she needed to know. A quickie out back wasn't even the worst thing she could think of, in her current condition, but boy that would take a lot of explaining in the scrap book! At least the polaroid camera would be timely? Trailing nails she'd painted black with a sharpie (to be appropriate, of course) down his chest, the muse played it a little coy. "Mm. The hearse is only for VIPs. You a VIP, handsome?"
Well, either way, Keirra got it. When Jackie's hand came up, Keirra caught it with her own. "Aww, come on, please?" she grinned and slipped the swiped key into her new friend's hand as she pulled herself up and watched Saila work. "Damn..." she said, crinkling her nose and turning her glazed eyes back to Jackie.
"I know," Jackie whispered back, sliding up to Kierra's side and running an arm around her waist. Oh look, it's an adorable sammich. Jackie tilted her head and rocked side to the side to the music. They got a few heated glances from Tall, Dark, and Creepy, but Saila got the bulk of them. Heated, Interested, Larcenous. Maybe these were a new band come to scope out the Golden Bear. He lifted a hand and went to catch Saila's. He lifted it to his lips with a steady stare. "VIP enough, beautiful. I'm running this gig. Your little sisters do everything with you?" He purred like a big cat, and kissed her knuckle. They may have to un-swipe his keys, but so far, so good. Jackie leaned her brow to Keirra's and whispered, her gaze never leaving Saila's catch. But what she whispered was 'do we let her play with him or do we roll him out back and bail after we get in?' Because she didn't know! Saila may want some play time!
Jackie and Kierra both were close enough that Saila could feel them. Intimacy in the one and raw power in the other, they lit up like kaleidoscopes melding together in a psychedelic blur of colors at the corners of her eyes. She'd taken in a lot of power in the last several minutes. Not as much as when she hung with her wolves, to be sure, but enough that the muse's senses were on. Good news for her girls, bad news for Mister VIP.
The music was good, and narrow hips swayed to the beat. She nodded, her strange eyes taking on an almost regretful expression. "M'afraid so, Casanova," she purred right back at him. "Think you can take us all on?" Look at that challenge in her bizarre eyes. Could he dig it?
Those eyes trailed to Saila, and then back to Jackie. She bit her lip, and rolled her eyes back to Saila, raising a brow. She couldn't just....touch the girl and get the answer--damn one way powers. A half-slanted smile, and then she simply shrugged her shoulders. Then Saila gave her answer, Keirra's eyes bugged from her skull and she paled a bit. She hadn't signed up for a fourway, and she'd made her joke about making out and doing Saila--but that would be weird, even for Keirra--who was screwing her ex's daughter.
Judging from Keirra's reaction, that would be roll the cat out back and bail after they got what they were after. Or, what Jackie was after. Keirra's bug eyed stare was complimented by Jackie's sloe eye skeezy grin. "Earn it." she neenered with a flip of her hair, turning Keirra and herself to make a pointed walk for the bouncer at the stage door. Jackie would so be cheering on Keirra if she knew about her getting some of Saila's ex's daughter. Woo! The man looked from the tiny terrors back to Saila, a slow grin crawling up his face. "I've got a few skills, a few pills." Reds, Vitamin C, and cocaine? "And just how do you ladies prefer to be earned?"