Linely smiled at the sense of humor that Chief had. She always did like to mess with cops, especially when they were undercover. Ever the police officer, he decided to inform  her as to his business in Chrysalis.  "I'm on the track of a rather unpleasant empath...he's been spiking drinks. Thanks for playing along." The man had bought a drink for Chief, oh boy, this man really was painting "I'm the scumbag you're looking for" all over him wasn't he?

"Hey you!" Linely shouted to the man approaching the booth where Chief and he were sitting. "You look funnnnny" He continued to slur his speech, although he quietly got his handcuffs out, just in case he needed to make a quick arrest.

Meanwhile the bartender was serving another customer, a rather scrawny fellow that had to show his ID in order to even be served. He was young, and wasn't unattractive. No, he wasn't some typical man in a trench coat, he wore a sharp, clean , suit. He looked at the bartender, an exquisite specimen, the epitome of female grace and beauty. This would be all too easy for him, as it had been so many times before.

"Hello there, may I buy the pretty bartender a drink?" Honey giggled at this, thinking she'd humor the kid.
"Sure." She poured out a shot of an overly expensive whiskey.
"That'll be $10" she smiled again at the man, she had a sense of humor when it came to flirting, and for some reason this guy seemed nice. The air around him had this sweet smell that you just wanted to... thrive in.

(OOC: Oh god guys, I'm sorry about this)

“...you are still human, whether you like that or not.“

While there were a number of things a person could say to irritate Kaz, those words were enough to make Kaz instantly dislike this moron who fancied himself a cop. Anyone who denied the inherent, fundamental difference between mutants and humans was either in some heavy denial or believed God created everything and humans lived alongside dinosaurs. He couldn't help wondering which camp this guy fell into, but he decided not to comment, though he did scowl a bit.

Linely's momentary surprise that Kaz not only knew his name, but that he also had taken his badge was enough to soften his scowl a bit. Even the man's insistence that he wasn't disturbed at all that Kaz had found him out so easily only managed to brighten Kaz's mood. Linely was certainly acting like the typical New Yorker, 'been there, seen that'.

”No, Dectective Linely, you mistake me if you think that's what I'm trying to do. Be impressed or don't, it doesn't matter. I just meant for you to realize that I know who you are and that you are and will be watched. I don't like your kind, and if you do anything I deem untoward, I will hold you personally responsible and accountable.”

Reaching up with a hand, he slowly traced the three scars on his face with his fingers while staring Linely in the eyes. Speaking in a low, almost serene tone, ”Oh yes they were quite painful, and I'm quite proud of them. They're proof that,” His tone changed to something distinctly unfriendly, Unlike you, I'm willing to fight for my people. That when people like you, and the rest of humanity tries to lock us in cages like animals and sick their murderbots on us, I'll put my life on the line to put a stop to it. Can you say the same?” He sneered, ”I doubt it.”

“If you know my name though...”

What was with that if? There was no question in Kaz's mind that he didn't know who this man was, and now he thought there was going to be some sort of exchange of names....why? Kaz couldn't see any reason why he should give his name to this detective. In fact, if the man was good enough to become a detective, perhaps he should do some detecting and figure it out himself.

As he began to open his mouth to tell the cop to go fuck himself, thought not in such colorful language, he shut it as a thought came to him. 'Why?'

Kaz began speaking to himself, internally, 'Granted this guy is a fool for asking a civilian to help him keep his cover and for trying to enlist my help. If that really mattered, he would've taken better care to disguise himself in the first place. For all Detective Dumbass knows, or doesn't know, there's a possibility the guy he's looking for doesn't work alone, or that just hearing that a cop was after someone I could go out of my way to block his efforts.'

That was the problem with relying on the supposed inherent goodness of people and their empathy for their fellow man, they could try to screw you over out of spite or just on a whim, because they could, because it was entertaining for them. While Kaz had plenty of empathy for and towards other mutants, he had very little if anything for humans...except children. It just felt wrong to put the sins of humans onto a child's shoulders. Of course that begged the question, 'When does one stop being a child and begin to shoulder that weight?' It wasn't one Kaz liked to ask, especially of himself, because he jumped around quite a bit. But he had to give a range of 'sometime between 12 and 18 years old' to satisfy himself without feeling like too much of a jackass.

If he was being honest with himself if a human could show that they really did have no ill feelings or intentions towards mutants, Kaz did give them a little slack. And if they were actually sympathetic towards mutants instead of indifferent, then he let himself feel a little bit for them since they may, at some point, help the mutant cause in some way. Oh, and women he found attractive, as much as he'd like to deny it, they were a soft spot for him as well, and tended to get more rope than others. That rope could easily become a noose if they betrayed him in any way.

'But what would be the point of not telling him, he could easily look it up later or call his description in and find out...Well, it'd be fun to watch as he finds out by himself, or it would be if I was able to watch as he did...'

Lifting up his bottle he gave it a little tilt towards the detective, ”Kaz Corydon, the sexiest elf you'll ever meet.” When the man turned and began walking away, Kaz spoke, and didn't really try to be quiet about it, ”Yes please do leave, your porcine stench is vile.”

Kaz watched the detective walk over to a booth where the large mutant had seated itself, which interestingly had been where Kaz had been sitting minutes before, and he couldn't help but scowl a little bit. He didn't like that guy and he wasn't exactly sure why. Yes, he thought he was a failure as a cop, and especially a detective, but...could it be the opposite of 'love at first sight', 'hate at first sight'? Very possible he decided, or it could also have something to do with the guy, at least as much as Kaz had seen and could tell, being false towards a mutant when Kaz was right there.

Linely had an agenda and he was using a mutant to achieve it, something that Kaz was sure had nothing to do with the large mutant. Yeah, that felt more correct.

As he moved to stand against the railing and look down on the dance floor, Kaz caught the man who had been talking to the shelled mutant glance his way. Following the man's eyes, he looked at the not-drunk cop and his lip curled in mild disgust.

Someone with Kaz's enhanced hearing, or enhanced senses in general, would go crazy if they didn't learn how to filter through what they were sensing. In this case Kaz was consciously ignoring the loud music and the conversations around him for the most part, as he put his back against the rail. What he focused his attention on was the sounds coming from the booth he had once occupied, a little miffed he wouldn't be able to go back to his drinking spot and chug his liquor.

Thinking about that made him remember the liquor bottle he was still holding. Putting the mouth of the bottle to his lips, and after checking the time, tipped his head back and began to chug. After a few swallows he wasn't content with his consumption speed. Lengthening one of his nails into a razor sharp claw, he ran its tip along the side of the bottle at its base, grabbed the glass and made a sharp twist with his wrist. The bottom came off easily, the cut being extremely smooth, and Kaz was able to chug the liquid at ridiculous speeds.

In a matter of seconds the half gallon of liquor was completely empty except for a few drops clinging stubbornly to the glass. Sighing audibly in appreciation Kaz let the bottle hang at his side while he idly toyed with the severed bottom. It was then he felt the burn in his throat, quite strongly, ”Ooooh... oh, that's good.” When he had said Honey had good taste before, he was only being partially honest, since he hadn't really be paying attention to the taste. But after chugging it, which granted, didn't give him a lot of time to enjoy or savor it, he found his words to be true. He'd have to get some and add it to his liquor selection at home.

When he had been at the booth, Kaz didn't mind keeping his drinks until he wanted more, but since he was standing, keeping an empty literally in hand felt a little silly. He made it halfway back to the bar before he nearly gagged, and that reaction had nothing to do with the alcohol sitting in his gut. Swallowing, Kaz stopped and blinked trying to clear his head.

Something didn't feel right.

A quick glance around him convinced him that there was nothing overt that would cause such a strong reaction in him. He also realized after a moment that he didn't feel quite as irked at Detective Drunk as he had been moments before, and that triggered his paranoia to jump up a few notches.

Lifting his hand, he furrowed his brows as he looked at the bottle, '...Is that....is this what it's like being drunk? Did it work? This fast?' It was entirely possible, maybe, but with how much he had put away before and not felt anything, and now this feeling, it wasn't going away...

In fact, as he got closer to the bar it got worse.

When he realized that, he was finally able to pick out what was so wrong. He could smell Honey's fragrant, heady, sweet, floral scent, but under that was something else. It was also sweet, but too much so. Poisonously sweet. Like antifreeze. Kaz found himself unable to be properly irritated he couldn't enjoy Honey's lovely, inviting, free-spirited fragrance. And that non-irritation didn't irritate him even more.

Yeah, that had to end. He HATED being manipulated like this.

Cutting the strength of his nose more and more as he got closer to the disgusting scent, just to stay sane, he tracked the source of the smell. Surprisingly the source was a man, if one was being generous, who, if he had heard correctly as he approached, had just bought Honey a drink.

A drink that she not only accepted but actually poured, from an actual liquor bottle. Kaz knew enough that if someone buys a bartender a drink, if they're allowed to 'accept', it's usually just water, colored or not, or they make some sort of non-alcoholic drink for themselves. So if Honey was really as good as her reputation said she was, she shouldn't be having an actual drink. ..And again, even knowing it wasn't normal, he couldn't find it within himself to care, even more so than normal.

Distracted by his own internal musings, Kaz didn't see the brunette man casually reach into and pull something from his pocket while he spoke with Honey. What he see was Honey watching the man and not watching the drink she had just poured. When Mr. Sickly-Sweet's hand moved away from Honey's drink, something did cut through whatever hazy fog was inside Kaz's brain: Suspicion.

Without consciously thinking about it, Kaz moved up behind the man, put an arm around his shoulder in a 'buddy-buddy' way, and put his hand on top of Honey's drink as she was reaching for it. ”Hey there buddy, what'cha go-” Kaz wasn't able to finish his sentence because he had been putting his full weight against the man with the disgustingly sweet scent, and his 400+ pounds had finally made the man overbalance and the stool buckle, and they both went tumbling.

Well, the man did, Kaz just kinda stumbled for a moment, but as he did, he knocked over Honey's drink in the process, spilling its contents all over the counter.

Blissfully, the stench was gone and he was able to smell Honey's pure scent without it being corrupted by something toxic.

Kaz looked to her, ”Oh, Hun, I'm sorry about that. It didn't get on you did it?”

Honey had taken a surprised step back when Kaz and the man had tipped over, so she was thankfully untouched by the spilled liquid. “Uh, oh, no. No, I'm fine.”

She looked like she was about to say something else, but Kaz placed the bottomless bottle on the counter, cutting her off as he grinned toothily down at the man splayed out on the floor glaring daggers at Kaz, “What the fuck man? Who the hell are you?”

Kaz didn't answer him, he just grinned even wider, his mouth growing a bit as new teeth could be seen coming in to fill in the open spaces, all of them were razor sharp daggers.

As the elf caught his glance and followed it, Devon's features turned like they'd smelled soured milk. He nodded reluctantly and trudged on. Hopefully the man, provided he wasn't a drug dealer, could tell Devon's frustrations and sense his commiseration.

>> "I ain't gonn' drag yo sriend out just 'cause he ga'e you a weird look. No sights tonight, re-nen-der? I'n oss duty."

Devon did feel for Chief. Here she was trying to have an enjoyable night off and this guy was bugging her to nab the elf. The elf had likely told him off with the looks he'd tossed. This was going to limit his chances for setting up anything for Sanctuary. A shame she hadn't wanted to go outside.

Maybe, he'd leave. "Ah," he began as the Drunk rose, "Nice-"

>> "Hey you!" Linely shouted to the man approaching the booth where Chief and he were sitting. "You look funnnnny"

"Not as funny as you sound," Devon shook his head. He cut a wide berth away from that side of the booth, the logical side for having a conversation for someone, to get closer to Chief. He quickly put the drinks down not wanting to spill them. "I'm sorry, maybe you need to talk to someone else that can help you. Also, get a water or something."

That's when a loud crash of a bar stool broke through the music. Devon turned to see the elf addressing a suited man from the floor. Now he questioned if this wasn't drug related maybe the elf worked here too? It sucked being new to a club and trying to figure out what was going on. In fact, it felt pointless.

"Either of you know either of those guys?"

He heard the crash of tables, the music turned down , everyone was staring at Kaz and some guy in a suit...a guy who seemed to be extremely scrawny...Linely broke character immediately. "Yes actually, one of them matches the description of a rather unpleasant man who has been spiking women's drinks , that us in the MRC have been on the track of for some time". Linely spoke with an unbelievably British accent. "Oh, I'm sorry, I failed to introduce myself, PD Linely MRC"

"Thanks for going along with the charade Chief" He smiled at the mantis-shrimp. "I originally thought this man could have been it, hence why I was following you two around, we'll discuss this as soon as we can, I just need to handcuff this scum and call in my compatriots."

Linely quickly ran to the scene involving the man who was calling himself Kaz and the serial spiker. "PD Linely MRC, looks like I've found my empath who's been spiking ladies drinks. You sir have the right to remain silent..." He read the man in the suit his rights as he handcuffed him .

James did not go to bars or nightclubs. Bars were loud, and nightclubs were doubly so. James had a boring life. But somebody had invited him, and this may be a chance for friendship, and he'd also accepted the invitation without thinking much, so he had to go. He didn't know Devon that well, but most people didn't like when James put off plans without a valid excuse. Of course, he'd hung out at pubs before as a teenager in Sheffield staying away from Mum and Dad, but pubs and bars were whole different concepts. And nightclubs were bad. But he'd been invited. And Chrysalis was Mutant-friendly, which was a plus, even though James had an almost invisible mutation. 

He'd googled about these sort of things before. They're going to check his ID. It was going to be as loud as he expects. There's a quieter place upstairs with books, away from the dance floor. Devon was probably going to be up there. There was a bouncer. A mutant bouncer. About 6 feet tall, with a tail. And there was a line. He brought his ID, and apparently the bouncer was supposed to be tipped. He didn't make eye contact, nodded back, and he was allowed in. That was simple enough. Maybe he was being impolite. 

Loud. EDM was playing, the bass reverberating in his ear canals. He wish he'd brought earplugs. Loud music was only alright if he was at a music festival or a rock concert. Bright neon lights. Dancers. Lots of people. Made him a little nauseous, and definitely a little more than uncomfortable. There was a flight of stairs leading up, so he went up. He let out an exhale of relief. Devon was there. He would hate to be here alone. Maybe it had been a bad idea to have accepted the invitation. There was a tall, multicoloured.. insect person next to Devon. That was a bit alarming, but he reminded himself that the bar was mutant friendly, so it was normal. New people, though, were alarming. And he'd have to talk. 

"Devon?" James said, a little hesitantly, barely audible over the music. 

There was a crash at the bar, arising from J-Pop and some rando at the bar. Honey had shied away from the altercation, obviously startled or at the very least trying not to get caught in... whatever it was. Jack remained seated, watching the fight unfold from over the rim of her Old Fashioned. She was off-duty, and thus had no authority to intervene, unless another club employee asked her to hop in.

>> "Either of you know either of those guys?"

"No," Jack replied sonorously, lowering her glass. Like that, Linley dropped the act, dropped the slurring tone of a drunkard and finally shifting into all-business. Well.

>> "Thanks for going along with the charade Chief."

Jack nodded wordlessly. Linley seemed to have it under control. She shifted her gaze to Devon and cleared her throat, now caught in a flagrant lie. Beyond that, it was a flagrant lie in defense of a cop's identity.

"Is good to stay on duh good side of cots," Jack said cryptically, flapping her free hand. By "cots", she meant "cops" of course, and Devon was welcome to interpret taht commentary in whatever way he chose-- whether it was beneficial for a mutant that looked like her, or if it was beneficial for someone with a record to slip under the radar. She didn't notice the bookish man who had made his way upstairs.

"What did you want to talk a'out?" Jack asked, now that the two of them were finally on their own. She took another sip of the Old Fashioned, her eyes sharp and scrutinizing. He'd been so eager to get to some peace and quiet, and yet Jack had insisted on staying inside, where the din could drown them out and eyes would see them, lest Devon be up to funny business.

The MRC? Oh really. Devon smirked as the officer introduced himself. "Uh huh, I get it," Devon nodded. "Do what you need to, Officer Linely." He then glanced back at Chief as the man ran back to the elf, who was now either actually a drug dealer or by the way he'd woven himself into this mess a fellow officer. Devon wasn't sure it mattered to him which the elf was...

>> "Is good to stay on duh good side of cots," Jack said cryptically...

"Yeah I would suppose so," Devon nodded quickly. "Especially when you've got a mutant friendly club that could easily see some increased dangers from hate mongers and the like," he half-frowned but nodded again.

>> "What did you want to talk a'out?" Jack asked.

"Well-" Devon snapped his mouth shut, "I'm sorry, my friend and coworker just arrived. Sorry, one minute!" He turned, having seen James as Chief began to inquire back to their original topic. "James!" he shouted, and motioned over.

"Hey! So glad you could come, this is Chief," he gestured to Jack. "She works here. She's pretty smooth," he grinned, and inclined his head to first the drink and then her in general. "Friendly with the cops around here too. I'm glad Chrysalis has that kind of support network."

"You come out often? You drink? The girl at the bar is amazing, but stay back from those two," he gestured to Linely, the elf, and of course the lout of the floor. "Apparently he's actually wanted for drugging girls," he frowned. "Really sucks that people ruin a fun atmosphere like this, especially a mutant friendly one."

"I was actually just about to ask Chief here about possibly helping me with a fundraiser at Sanctuary," his eyes went back to Jack as he continued speaking loudly. "You want me to wait 'til you get a drink or feel free to sit," he gestured to the booth where Jack was still seated, Linely had just left, and Devon currently stood beside.

James let out an exhale of relief when Devon yelled his name out. Good thing he hadn't came too early. He wasn't so good with crowds, but that should have been obvious to most people he talked to within the first couple minutes. He walked across the floor quickly, making his way to the bar.

// "Hey! So glad you could come, this is Chief," he gestured to Jack. "She works here. She's pretty smooth,"

"Hello, Devon," James said quickly, standing on the other side of Devon away from the... shrimp? Mantis shrimp? Big multicoloured crustacean?  Insect? James really wasn't sure what he was looking at, except for the fact that he or she was very, very tall and almost definitely a Mutant. He should have properly looked up this place online. Chief, a lady. James smiled, but his eyes wandered to the floor. "Nice to meet you, Chief. M'name's James." 

//"You come out often? You drink? The girl at the bar is amazing, but stay back from those two,"

"I... I'm not so good with crowds, and I don't drink much," James didn't know how to state that without sounding boring. He let his sight wander to the two Devon had pointed to. A silver-haired bloke he didn't recognise at all, and P.D. Linely. Huh. He contemplated walking over and greeting P.D Linely, but decided against it. He didn't want to get near anyone who may be dangerous. "I... Yeah, I'll stay away." 

Did that sound awkward? It definitely did.

"I... Also, I don't drink. I don't like it. So..." James let himself trail off, hoping that somebody else would continue for him. 

>> "I... I'm not so good with crowds, and I don't drink much," James (said)

"Oh no problem," Devon grinned. He didn't care whether you did or didn't. In his circles you met many who didn't drink or stopped... Besides, he was busily keeping vigilant of the cop, the elf, and the man on the floor. He gave an agreeing nod when James said he'd stay away.

>> "I... Also, I don't drink. I don't like it. So...

"So let's sit down?" Devon grinned and gestured into the booth. He scooted in after James had sat, glancing sideways toward the bar but then back to Chief. He leaned over his drink, clearly engaged in the conversation but also wanting to be sure he heard her over the music. "Ever hear of Sanctuary? I volunteer / work there part time. It's a homeless shelter and community center. We're trying to help make it better, and part of that includes a fundraiser."

Devon perked-up at the arrivval of an alleged friend, and Jack took to quietly nursing her Old Fashioned, gaze cutting towards Linely, the elf, and the drama that was being quelched before them. She heard her nickname, and lavender eyes slid back towards the quivering leaf of a man. She gave him a single, near-imperceptible nod. He introduced himself. James. The prawn gave another nod, more pronounced this time. She didn't like the way he looked at her-- or rather, didn't.

Of course, it was nothing unusual. People either gawked at her or couldn't look at her. But Chrysalis was one of those spaces where she didn't expect that sort of attitude. People were either mutants or mutant-friendly, or just some bigot who wanted to scream blasphemy at the first opportunity. This shoe-surveying leaf-of-a-man was a singularity.

Jack took another sip of her drink. "Friendly with the cops" because she'd been on the recieving-end of that kind of pinned-to-the-ground before. That was before she'd gotten picked-up by the mutant school and rehabilitated, so to speak. The wariness never leaves, though-- not if you're smart, anyways.

Devon was chattering away to the young man, and Jack let her mind wander. Only the mention of her name drew her attention back to the two men, her antennae perking.

>> "I was actually just about to ask Chief here about possibly helping me with a fundraiser at Sanctuary."

The prawn inclined her head. She was listening.

>> "Ever hear of Sanctuary? I volunteer / work there part time. It's a homeless shelter and community center. We're trying to help make it better, and part of that includes a fundraiser."

"Heard uzz it," Jack grunted. She'd heard the name passed around the club once or twice, but didn't know much beyond it being a homeless shelter. She also heard that some sketchy sorts had been seen around there every now and again, "Whatcha need nee sore? Not exactly lookin' sore connunity ser'ice hours."

>> "Ever hear of Sanctuary? I volunteer / work there part time. It's a homeless shelter and community centre. We're trying to help make it better, and part of that includes a fundraiser."

The Sanctuary- Yes, the name had been thrown around before, in his workplace, online. A homeless shelter of sorts, a safe haven for Mutants. That was about the extent of all he knew about the place. It's also meant to have a bit of a crime problem, which made James slightly hesitant at the idea being involved in the place. And besides, he didn't quite trust Devon yet. They'd only known each other for a while. 


"I, I've heard of it too," James nodded. He glanced up at Chief again. Her... skin? Shell? Seemed to be iridescent in colour. He wondered what variant of the X-gene had caused this, and the chances of this occurring. James himself was lucky, one small, (mostly) controllable Mutation that seemed to affect his social skills negatively more than it benefited him at all. "Does this mean you want me to... volunteer there as well? Help the fundraiser?" 

>> "Whatcha need nee sore? Not exactly lookin' sore connunity ser'ice hours."

>> "Does this mean you want me to... volunteer there as well? Help the fundraiser?"

Devon smiled optimistically at the information they'd both heard of Sanctuary. He hoped it was more for the recent activity than the past, criminal one. If they'd heard of the latter hopefully he'd heard of the former.

"Well, I'd love to have a bouncer for the evening activities when the fundraiser becomes a bit more dance block party. The day will have music, games, food, and information about volunteering and donating," he shrugged a shoulder, "And some Utopia volunteers. I'm not a Utopia guy but some are and Sanctuary's not a political body. Some might have interest so..."

"Anyway," Devon smiled again, "It'd be great to have you there Chief. Your occupation and reputation here would be nice. I'm hoping the whole club will want to get involved though, sponsor the dance part and server drinks too. Do you think the management would be interested? It's Sanctuary, so a very pro-mutant event. Good marketing too. I'm putting together a full pamphlet and I'd give the club a whole page."

He turned to James, "Do you want to? I mean we could use more volunteers for the fundraiser but for Sanctuary in general. If you're not interested, I understand. But I just ask you here to get you out of the office. Seemed like ya needed some social time outside of work." He grinned, looking James up and down briefly, "I didn't assume you were a mutant or human but I figured if you would come here you weren't anti-mutant at least."

A fundraiser, into a sort of a dance block party. James was already reluctant. He's alright with music, alright with food, but events that required a 7 feet tall bouncer made James reluctant to attend. Yes, he was a bit of a sissy, but he supposed bad parenting lead to the result of this. They said he should break out of comfort zones. Maybe he'd try. Maybe this'd be good. 

>> "And some Utopia volunteers. I'm not a Utopia guy but some are and Sanctuary's not a political body. Some might have interest so..."


Huh. The entire Utopia thing. James'd read about it on the internet, this plan about an all-Mutant nation located in the middle of nowhere. He understood that it was a good plan, as many Mutants now fear for their safety, but he couldn't help and wonder about the logistics of this. It reminded him strangely of segregation or Native American reservations, fencing out the people average humans didn't want in their world. He didn't have a visible mutation, and anyways he didn't want to leave New York City. 

James didn't oppose to the idea, but he didn't support it much, either. He supposed some input couldn't hurt.

>> ""Do you want to? I mean we could use more volunteers for the fundraiser but for Sanctuary in general. If you're not interested, I understand. But I just ask you here to get you out of the office. Seemed like ya needed some social time outside of work."

Huh. He was invited. Of course he was. Devon did seem like a good guy, and James didn't oppose to the idea altogether, but actually being there... Yes. He needed a social life. He had two friends, altogether. It's an improvement, but he knew that it was embarrassingly little. Isaac and Devon. 

"I reckon, yeah," James said, fingers drumming nervously on his knee. "I mean, I've got time, and it seems like fun. Yeah, I'm interested. And that's true, I do... need to get out of the office, get a social life. Just... get a life, in general," James smiled a little. "But... you know by now I'm not that good with loud noises, big crowds. So..." He trailed off. 

"And... Yeah, I'm a Mutant. Cognitive mutation. I can... I've got a knack for patterns. If I spend enough time with somebody, I can predict their behaviour. I can... find patterns, loopholes in computer code, imitate writing style and music and all that. And I'm good at chess, and card games. I've got a good memory, too." Now four people knew he was a Mutant. It's still a safe, decent amount. 

"Glad to hear you're interested," Devon said urgently. "I had no idea you were a mutant though. Patterns and programming though fits well. You must be a hard man to beat at chess. Maybe that's why big crowds aren't your thing though, too much going on and you get a bit overwhelmed trying to compute it all?"

Devon shrugged a shoulder, "You can always hang inside where there's less of a crowd, but I'd be interested to see if over a long period of time you find a pattern in the chaos. Might make crowds easier to deal with in the future. Up to you of course. You don't have to come but you're more than welcome."

"Oh and I'm a mutant too," he nodded, again quickly. "I'm atmokinetic. I can really throw off a weather pattern if I want," he winked. "Only imitation I'm going for is good weather usually. I can promise clear skies during the block party."

Something about the mousey fellow rubbed Jack the wrong way. She couldn’t put her finger on “why” this may have been. Devon continued to make his pitch, to which Jack listened attentively. She rested her chin upon her hand and surveyed the young man through a droll, half-lidded expression.

>> "… Anyway, It'd be great to have you there Chief. Your occupation and reputation here would be nice. I'm hoping the whole club will want to get involved though, sponsor the dance part and server drinks too. Do you think the management would be interested? It's Sanctuary, so a very pro-mutant event. Good marketing too. I'm putting together a full pamphlet and I'd give the club a whole page."

Geez, these boys could talk for ever. What a drag. Expecting a long explanation, the prawn fished out her phone and opened the speech-to-text application and began to type.

“You’d has to take dat u’ wiss duh head honcho, sore Chrysalis’ in’ol’ement” Jack said plainly. Usually it went the other way around, though-- people paid to have certain attractions, and then raise funds and hopefully break-even. This kid had nerve asking for them to sponsor an event. And for what cause? To get their names out there. The Boss might go for it. He was passionate about the mutant community.

As for the prawn… she had her own interests to look out for.

Jack hurriedly typed a reply into the speech-to-text app and pressed play, the synthetic female voice flatly stating, <<As for me, my services come at a price. So if you have a rate, name it. But I’ve established enough of a reputation in the community that I don’t work for free.>>

Maybe that was a little cold. But, as it was once aptly put, “If you’re good at something, never do it for free.”

As the boys chatted, Jack's attention wandered to Linley, JPop and the barkeep, hoping that all was well. Linley seemed to have things under control.