Juniper wasn't honestly afraid of much. Her power made it possible for her to avoid almost every physical threat she could thinks of, so... what was there to fear? She had inadvertently made it a habit of being out late at night, usually hopping from one bar to the next to give herself a breather in between. She was always careful not to go overboard with drinks; if you lost your head, it was awful hard to protect the body after all. 

But being outside, in the dark and by herself wasn't anything she normally batted an eye at. She usually welcomed the solitude in fact, letting the old battery recharge before she subjected herself to more people while figuring out what she wanted in that particular moment. 

This is where she was currently, while strolling down a dark sidewalk in between one bar and another with her hands clasped behind her neck and her elbows spread eagle, taking up as much room as her small figure could. What did she care if the occasional passerby shot her a dirty look? She could just phase through them. No problem. 

Occasionally on adventures such as this she would attract the attention of some of the seedier people of the city. She often didn't mind if they were at least somewhat attractive, but not many who dallies in criminal adventures looked as dashing as the movies made them all out to be. She often ended up ignoring the attention, phasing out of attempted grabs and stabbings like it happened every Wednesday. 

Sometimes it did. 

Tonight she had one such straggler. A fellow had been strolling with her a few blocks by that point, a good distance back, chatting her up nicely at first... but it had gotten progressively more and more loud as the blocks went on and she continued to ignore her. He hadn't tried to close the distance yet though, so he was only mild annoyance at best. 

"Whatever happened to polite girls who loved to have a chat with a nice stranger?" 

Jesus he was persistent. She'd throw him a bone.

"How about hell-to-the no? Who'd want to talk with some smelly stranger anyway?" 

She didn't have to turn and look at him to tell how angry that little comment had made him. He started cussing profusely at her, loudly, and very descriptively. 

Speeding up a little bit, she darted down an alley hoping to lose him. There was a tall chain link fence set up, probably to keep cars from using it as a road.  She smirked to her self, smug about her plan to ditch the guy, and prepared to phase through the metal.

She smashed into it with force, bounced back off the springy metal and stumbled. "WHATTHE@#$%!" 

He wasn't the only one cussing now. 

Funny thing about fear as it can snap into place quicker than  lightning and it sticks around an annoyingly long time after. 

Juniper's hand shot out and slapped into the metal fence. She'd expected it to go through, yet it hadn't.

A cold sweat broke out on her neck and she turned to see the guy blocking her exit from the alleyway. There was a visible gun in one hand. 

"Regretting not chatting with me now, aren't ya?"

He took a step closer. 

@#$%, she was so boned. 

Clothes shopping had gone well. She’d met a new person, and that had been fun. Gotten a few bags of clothing she could try out, maybe experiment on. She’d already done a few experiments on the base materials, and if she could figure out a way to expedite the process and learn to best replicate whatever it was...

Granted, her theories had been tested in low danger scenarios. She’d had someone throw rocks at her. And other things. It hadn’t hurt as much as if she’d taken a rock to the back normally... and she knew how that felt, because she’d once been a rowdy child who got into rock fights. It didn’t fully protect against impact. Especially with the other things, but then, What would? But Serena had said—

The coats. The coats were the thing. That was key. Bigger body, bigger area of effect. Better results. Something tiny like a hat wasn’t going to be as useful. And they weren’t even going to talk about the practicality of bikini plate. The problem was—

The problem was not once had she managed to get good results with her mutation. If she tried to do stuff with it, she just got a bubbly heat haze that she could push around. It was good as invisible, and only affected clothes. If she wanted to force push someone, yeah. It might be useful. Like with Maya, and the car. But as far as enchantments went...

How did one even do magic with a mutation? Did one need to be a magic mutant? Was SHE a magical girl? Could she replicate it, and do the world one better by magically transforming her clothes into a new outfit, complete with frills and laces and eye vomiting levels of pink. She felt like MAYBE someone at the mansion might have already cornered the market on that. Albeit, with less pink and white lace. But—

HOW?!

It was a shame she’d been too much of a wimp to ask Evelyn to shoot fireworks at her to test another theory. But anyways.

Serena had said. Serena had said— as the bus rattled along, Amelia had fallen asleep. Shopping had been exhausting. She’d gone to several places after the first, and it had gotten late. Had needed to carry it all, and walk because nothing could all be in one place. And she’d had a lot on her mind. Could you have blamed her?

The next thing she was aware of was some strange person on the bench next to her, moving in the corner of her vision. For a moment, Amelia was totally out of it. A real “wha? Uh” situation. But then, she realized what the person was as doing.

There was a man rooting around in one of her shopping bags. And which bag, do you ask? Do you really want to know? Well okay. Here’s a clue.

He pulled something pink and small up for closer examination. We’re those a pair of— yep.

Something inside of her exploded in white hot rage. No, not white hot. Hot. Pink.

The thing he was examining slammed into his face, pressing tightly to its contours as he stumbled back. Back, over the aisle, into the couple sitting in the seats across the way. And as he stumbled, he screamed. And so did she.

”Aaaaa!”

“LET. GO. OF THOSE!”

Thud.

“The f—-?!” A man said.

A female voice added “Freak!”

The couple in the seat had chimed in.

So did the bus driver, as the bus pulled to a sudden jarring stop. “GET. OUT!”

It had all happened so fast. He’d been there, then she’d been attacking him and now suddenly, this? She stared at the driver, like ‘Seriously?’

He gestured at the open doors.

Amelia sighed, snagged her bags. And then, as she passed him in the aisle, she bent to pick her things off his face.

“Don’t mess with a motherf#%|g pantymancer’s panties.” She whispered, in his face.

Then, she was gone.

—

The bus had traveled a long distance, while she’d slept. Thankfully, none of her stuff had been stolen. With the exception of the attempt by the creep.

Amelia had... absolutely no idea where she was. There were bars everywhere. It was dark. It was probably after whatever curfew the mansion enforced for students, not that she was a student. And she’d never been in the area before.

While she could have brought out her phone to call up a cab, or googled maps or something, she saw someone she could potentially ask for directions. She was strolling down a dark sidewalk with her hands behind her neck and her elbows thrust out just so, taking up all the space in the world. And she looked trustworthy. The only problem was... she had a hanger-on.

The guy looked... off. Maybe it was cop sense bleeding over from some dimensional gap between her teen brain and her adult brain. Or maybe it was common sense. So, she found herself another straggler, stalking the stalker for some reason beyond which she could give a reasonable answer. With, like, three bags of clothing in her arms.

The scene went down pretty much like she had figured it would. The stalker guy spoke to her. She spoke back. He swore at her and Amelia learned some new ones. And then the woman... walked into an alley, which was pretty off.

Hey trustworthy gal, what are you planning? Why aren’t you more careful than this?!

Why was she stalking her and the stalker? Had it just been because she’d needed help... or because she’d had a bad feeling... or because...

This was X-men territory.

Had she wanted to be one? From her perspective, she’d just found out she was a mutant. No time to really learn about that side of the world. And now?

There was a sound like something crashing into a chain link fence. A sound like a grown woman shouting WTF.

And then silence. The scary kind of silence. And she’d seen the guy enter the alley.

—

Dun DUN dun! This was so stupid. Dun dun! Idiotic. Dun dun. Serena was going to kill her. Doc Prof was going to heal her. Serena was going to kill her again. Going by her vague knowledge of the blonde X-men who was avoiding her, that was. But that didn’t deter Amelia from approaching the alley the two people had entered.

She was operating on a theory. A theory, and whatever she’d used on the creep on the bus.

The creep on the bus goes round and round, her mind sang to her. He had. But that was beside the point. Was she really going to do this?

Just a theory. A lot of fear. Adrenaline. What would Mirror do? What would Serena do? What would Sam do?

Scratch that last one. He’d probably say “hi I’m single” to a cute girl, and try and pick her up. And she’d already done that today!

But they’d also act heroic. Because that’s what heroes do. Aside from chasing skirts. So.

In jeans and a green Carhart hoodie, Amelia stepped into the alley.

—

”Maybe if you’d been a little nicer...” He said, creeping closer. Breathing heavily. In the way only creeps can do.

He was roughly 4 feet away from her now, and closing the distance.

Amelia was at the head of the alley. She’d set all her close next to a trash can as she’d stealthily approached. She needed the element of surprise, right? She needed to get the jump on him while he was distracted by- hey, was that a gun?

“Hey SCUMBAG!” Amelia shouted.

What had that been about being stealthy and getting the jump on him, again?

“Eat THIS!!!” Oh right. She’d meant to do that.

Amelia pictured Mirror, nearly getting hit by a car. She pictured what she’d practiced her power on at the mansion. She pictured Hot Pink, and she pictured his face. Then, she thrust out with a near-invisible battering ram of psychic force. It rushed through the space between them, rippling the air like a heat haze, and then— fizzled out into nothing. Well?

Crap.

The man turned. He smiled at her. “Mean to me, too.” He mumbled. “Little young, though. Kill the spare?”

Was he talking to himself? This was bad. And going way too—

Fast.

It had been a gun.

The alley lit up from the muzzle flash. There was a sudden pain in her shoulder, and a pulling sensation. The alley swung around her as she spun backwards, into her bags of clothes, and the trash can.

Bong!! The trash can fell over, blocking the body from view.

“Hehe. Anyways. Where were we...?” The man turned back to his prey. The gun barrel steamed as he wagged it back and forth.

This would be bad for her. This would—

CLANG!

A trash can lid connected with his head. As he reeled, he tried to figure out what had happened and why there were birds and little stars.

Had someone thrown a—

“You should have—“ There was a sudden pain in his right knee. Was that, breaking? “Aimed for—“ And now, the piece of 2x4 swung up to —

“The head.” Amelia said. He went down. Hard. She hauled back her leg and kicked him between the legs. “Dick.”

She continued kicking him until she was certain he was unconscious. And then, she tossed the 2x4 across the alley and turned to the girl.

“You okay?” She asked. One hand went up to clutch at her shoulder and she gave a little wince grin. Where her hand rested, there was a smudge of darkness. It was unclear what it was, in the light of the alley.

Absently, she could hear herself bitching about how this was the second time she had ended up in such a position since coming to this @#$% infested city, and reflecting on how she clearly had underestimated how dangerous it could be... even to people with powers like her.

Actively, she was frozen to the spot as her fight or flight instincts stalled and died smack in the middle. It wasn't the first time. It was every damn time. She was trapped in her own head as her breathing jumped out of whack, her blood pressure skyrocketed, and a cold sweat broke out all over her body.

Notagainnotagainnotagainnitagain

Her vision was starting to tunnel as she fought off the looming panic attack. She was losing. The guy was closing in, close enough she could see what brand of coat he was wearing now. Was she gonna survive this one? Was she gonna--

“Hey SCUMBAG!”

Juniper almost didn't register the new voice. Her attacker sure did though, and spun around to face the new girl.

Juniper tipped back slightly as a deep shuddering breath rocked her on her feet and her back bounced into the links of the fence. Her fingers curling too tight through the metal were the only thing keeping her from falling flat on her ass in the filth.

She wasn't aware of much... she caught a few glimpses of movement, a flash of light and a muted pop as the gun went off. She was too focused on trying to slow her breathing down enough not to pass all the way out, to see him turn back to her. A dark figure looming, waggling gun, warm breath on her face, cold fingers clawing her arm--

She blinked, and then blinked again a few more times. Each blink cleared a bit more of the dark encompassing her vision away. She could hear snippets of a female voice through the thrumming in her ears, and she could see that her would be attacker was on the ground, un-moving as she wailed away on him.

Relief.

It swept the rug out from under her and she sat in the @#$%ing filth without a care. Her eyes started to burn and she knew what that meant, but didn't have the power to stop it until the attack wore off fully.

“You okay?”

"...No." shit, was that her voice? So small and weak. Juniper cringed. There were rivers of big soggy tears running from her eyes. "I-I need to get away from him. I need to get away, so... so I can use my power."

She wasn't sure if she would be able to stand on her own. Her legs felt like lead fishing lures.

Her fingers were still white knuckling the chain link fence. She decided to focus on them first, loosening one at a time slowly and painfully.

She needed to get away, so she could use her powers. Ah. That figured. Whatever this guy did, it blocked powers. A power-blocking power. How lame. It was like the Reverse card in UNO.

I don’t want to take my turn. You take my turn. Let’s mess everything up.

Maybe the impact had shaken her a little, if Amelia was seriously thinking about a kids game at a time like this.

The woman had said she wasn’t okay. But Amelia saw no obvious injuries. Whatever she did, it hadn’t worked. Maybe she’d had some special Uber power or an escape artist talent, and— now was not the time to hypothesize about powers. Such a nerd.

No obvious injuries. But she’d been crying. Mental state was clearly not at tip top shape.

“Okay.” Amelia turned and walked a few feet away from her, to try and pick up her bags of clothes by the overturned trash can.

Again, she winced. And shifted everything to her good arm as best she could.

“We should leave before cops shop up. This seems like the sort of neighborhood where they take an extra few minutes. But I know I don’t want to answer any questions after playing amateur vigilante. Especially with who I am.” Amelia said.

Because she was and wasn’t a cop. Schrodinger’s cop. They wouldn’t know for certain until they cracked open that box and checked inside.

“Shit.” She said. The bags were heavy, and made her list to one side. “My theory was right. But I didn’t account for bruising.”

The girl turned and started walking away and that got Juniper going a little more. She definitely didn't want to be stuck in an alley alone without her power again! Fingers and legs be damned, she jolted up a little unsteadily and hurried after her savior, giving the unconscious guy as much of a berth as she could.

"... With who you are?" She still sounded a bit dazed to her own ears. Flexing her sore fingers and being further away from the guy helped a little, but fighting off a panic attack tended to take some time. She chewed on the inside of her cheek a little and stared the other girl down. Who was she?

"Here, let me help... it's the least I could do."

She jerked forward to try and grab the bags, as her eyes sought out whatever injury was causing the pain. She didn't see anything obvious, a smudge, maybe? Hadn't the gun gone off though??

Whatever the case, she was finally free from the demon mans stupid power. Why did she keep running into those guys? That was two in a month! Three only in a few years!

Juniper stole the bags right out of the girls grip, seemingly having an easy time balancing all of them even with twiggy arms and a small figure.

She stepped back a little, but clearly intended to stick around and not make a run for it with all of the girls bags. She even managed a small, strained smile through all of the internal screaming! She was trying, okay?!

"I'll carry these for you... just lead the way out of here to wherever. The further I am from this, the better." She refused to glance back, but looked forward instead.

"...Jesus, I could use a drink even more now."

>>”With who you are?”

She didn’t move to answer that question. Really, what could she say? Her NAME? That would sound pretentious. The whole backstory of “I was a cop and then I got de-aged and now I’m not, hello hi how are you?” Nope! That would only lead to more questions, plus it’d be weird, oh so weird.

Silence. Silence was the best option. And moving on. Walking away from the whole situation with her bags. Which— were heavy with one arm.

This could be a problem.

She felt the woman’s eyes on her. She’d been dazed at first, but now, she was starting to ask questions. Staring her down. And— Helping her with her bags.

What? How the hell had she— “How did you—?!” She sputtered.

Then, she caught herself. Amelia ran a hand through her hair and took a calming breath. Then, she rubbed at her shoulder gingerly.

“Yeah, okay.”

She’d carry them. Amelia just had to lead her out of there, to wherever. Wherever this was. Away from—

Her eyes shifted towards the unconscious man on the filthy alley floor.

—>Him.

They exited the alley.

>>”... Jesus. I could use a drink even more right now.”

Amelia didn’t know what possessed her. Maybe it was the pain. She said “Me. Too.”

She glanced at the girl. “Be careful with those, by the way. They’re all the clothes I have in the world.” A vicious grin slid over her face. “I already had to knock one guy out with panties because he was trying to steal them.”

The reaction earned a bit of a smile from Juniper. Her power was back, and earning the typical reactions from people. How?! What?!

She loved it.

Her ears perked a little at the possibility of having a drinking partner... and possibly one she didn't intend on trying to seduce, too! That was super rare. After tonight though, it was either that or hightail it home to drink alone until she couldn't feel feelings anymore.

"If you want, since I was on my way to get a drink anyway, i'll buy you a few rounds as a thanks for s-saving my hide back there." Nope, don't think about it. Don'tthinkdon'tthinkdon'tthink.

Her gaze dropped a little to the bags in her hands, one eyebrow lifting at the mention of having to defeat someone with underwear. That was... neat.

"I won't let any harm come to them so long as I have them in my grip. Promise I won't try to steal any, either. Scouts honor! I have plenty of my own."

With a new directive in mind, and possibly holding the girl's bags unintentionally hostage, Juniper headed off down to the bar she had been planning on visiting anyway.

It wasn't a very far walk, and she'd been there before. The guy at the front let them in without batting an eye at them, possibly because Juniper was, cough, well acquainted with him by that point. She did pause a moment to whisper in his ear about the passed out neanderthal down the block who had harassed her, feeling quite content that the would be taken care of one way or another before she had to leave.

Hopefully before anyone else had the displeasure of running into him.

Juniper beelines for her regular table, not caring if it was terribly obvious that she was a regular to this particular establishment. "Jean!" She balanced all of the bags in one hand and waved the other at a woman behind the bar.

"Can I get a few rounds of shots over here?" There was a nod and a wave back.

Juniper slid into one of the empty booths close to the bar, settling the bags on the other side away from here, where the girl could reclaim them.

Now that she was in her own environment, she looked quite a bit different. A large cheeky smile had spread across her lips and she was visibly much more relaxed.

"I'm Juniper, by the way. What should I call my drinking buddy for the night?"

She’d said she could use a drink as a joke, but the other girl had taken her at her word and offered to buy her drinks.

Amelia did not immediately respond. This was something that she would need to think on.

What were the ramifications of her drinking now, here, at this age? Technically, she was older. She had the ID to prove it. Technically, this brought about questions about earlier that day, but— that thought ran the hell away to hide somewhere. Replaced by a new one: follow the girl with the bags.

Follow the girl with the bags. Follow follow follow follow, follow the girl with the bags

Amelia sincerely doubted the girl had ever been a Girl Scout in her life. But she could sure track down a bar. And they knew her. Amelia did not even need to flash an ID.

The girl had not asked if she actually was the right age for drinking, and Amelia had not said yes, come to think of it. But suddenly, there they were. That type of persuasion was dangerous. She had utilized that type of persuasion once or twice. Perhaps, her silent following act had been ‘yes’ enough.

They made it to the bar at the bar. And of all things, the girl ordered shots. Amelia had gotten shot, and now she was being offered... shots? There was a joke in there, somewhere. A small chuckle escaped her.

“Get shot, get shots...” She said.

Amelia slid into the booth on the opposite side of her, pushing her bags up against the wall where they would be safe. Idly, she gently dusted off the shoulder where she’d been shot. Gunpowder residue or something. Better than the alternative.

In the mood light of the bar, something seemed different about the girl. It was like she’d come into her own. This was her place. Where she belonged. And Amelia had no idea what to think about that. But hey, at least she seemed happy!

“I’m Amelia,” she said.

She did not say “I’m 17” or “should I get out my ID” or “are we actually doing this?” Her arm throbbed a little. They were doing this. Somewhere along the way, it had already been decided.

Her shoulder twinged suddenly, and she rubbed at it.

“Guess the alcohol will be a good painkiller.”

She still felt twitchy. That was always the hardest to get back under control after an attack. Generalized anxiety disorders were seriously no joke. Juniper chose ignoring the muscle twitches though, focusing on bouncing her leg under the table instead as a distraction.

"It's only fair, right?" Her gaze zeroed in on that smudge on her clothes again, as newly names Amelia rubbed some of the pain away. "That was pretty neat, what you did. Wish I had gotten to see it. You got a vest on under there or is it just part of your power?"

She sat back a little as a tray with a bunch of shot glasses were delivered, eagerly snagging one for herself after a hurried thank you to the waitress. The little glass was tipped back like an expert, a twitchy one, and she took a moment to focus on her throat burning as it went down.

Yeah, that was the kind of distraction she needed right now.

"You don't have to drink if you don't want to, really. I won't be offended, I just thought i'd offer since you saved my life and all." She didn't have anything else to offer, unless Amelia wanted her to carry her bags all the way home on foot.

She would, too.

"Is your shoulder okay?"

She snatched up another clear little glass. A moment later it joined the first, empty and discarded to the side.

Hell yes, she deserved shots. It was only fair.

Juniper asked about her power. Bulletproof vest, or power-related?

A lopsided grin slid onto Amelia’s face. “Kind of both, actually. I sort of made this bulletproof. And knife proof. My power is clothing manipulation.”

Her power was clothing, and it was growing on her. It wasn’t lame at all. She was honestly sort of proud of it.

“Usually, I sort of... force push clothes like I tried to do to the guy in the alley. And the person goes with it. But I guess I’m branching out into enchanted coats.”

The shots arrived, and Amelia observed Juniper put one away in short order.

The woman said she didn’t have to drink any shots if she didn’t want to. And Amelia considered being a Good Girl for all of a couple of seconds. But then Juniper asked how her arm was doing, and Amelia downed a shot, just like Juniper had done.

She had taken a breath before she’d downed it, and let the breath out afterwards. It was a good burn. The breathing trick, she had picked up from watching Juniper drink. She was a quick study.

So, how was her shoulder?

“Hurts.” She said. “But that’ll get better after a few more of these.”

For punctuation, she downed another one and suddenly the empties on the tray had doubled.

Clothing manipulation, huh? That sounded pretty dang amazing. Juniper was honestly jealous of it.

"Man, I wish I could beat people up with underwear." Actually, she'd be fine if she could just beat people up at all. She really needed to learn some self defense at some point, didn't she?

Meh, thoughts for another time perhaps. Right now she wanted to focus on drinking juuust enough that she could forget the bad parts of the night while still being able to walk home.

Also, it looked like Amelia was trying to out drink her at shots and well, that just couldn't happen, could it?

"That's the spirit!"

Throwing another one back, she stood and shouted another order of shots over one shoulder towards the bar, earning a shout with a few choice words back in her direction.

"They like me here, contrary to what she just said." The blond giggled, cheeks already rosy. She could down quite a few of the shots and be fiiiine, so she wasn't worried. She'd have to keep and eye on Amelia though, just in case the woman was a light weight.

Down with another one!

"So where were you headed before you decided to play 'amateur vigilante', as you called it?"

Her face twitched. She tried to contain it. But it broke out into a big goofy smile.

“Beat people up with underwear, Juniper? Really?” She said. Then, shook her head in amusement. “I did that like 20 minutes before I helped you out. Creep on bus, boom headshot.” She mimed a handgun with her finger.

And then, she got to drinking.

Was it possible her body remembered drinking even through the deAging? Maybe. But that sounded dumb. Maybe she was just a natural.

If she’d have known she’d broken up with Mirror in her distant past due to him / her underaged drinking habits, right then she’d have felt like a total hypocrite. And she’d have laughed. But she didn’t know, so she drank, instead.

That was the spirit, yeah? Literally!

She tried to keep pace with Juniper. After her third shot, her cheeks started feeling a little rosy. Heyy, just like Juniper’s. What were they drinking, anyways?

At Juniper’s shout, someone said some choice words and Juniper insisted they liked her.

“If she actually meant what she just said, she must like you a whooole lot. I think I learned some new ones.” Amelia looked to the source of the ‘choice words’ appreciatively. They certainly were choice.

Juniper asked where she’d been headed before the vigilantism struck.

She laughed at the question. “Home. I was heading home. But I fell asleep in the bus and missed my stop. I’m at the mansion right now while I— sort some things out.”

Amelia’s face fell for a split second. But then, she went on to shot four.

“What are we drinking, anyways?” She didn’t even know. Hopefully, that extra tray would come soon. They were destroying this one.

"I have that effect on people." She cut out between a wide grin and another shot.

"The school, huh? I go there for classes currently. I live a few blocks away, actually." That would make getting the both of them home much easier. Heck, if Juniper ended up at the mansion over night she'd just sleep on that couch in the library, or steal an empty bed in a room, or maybe track down Sam. There were options, anyway.

"Tequila!" She responded cheerily, and picked up her fourth shot as well. A tray of them consisted of eight small glasses, and so far Ami was keeping pace. Maybe, once the next try arrived, they would take a break or something if she needed it. Juniper, despite her size, could put away a pretty decent amount of alcohol before she had to stop. Six or so shots usually did the trick.

"Last time I got these yummy little spicy shots, but I didn't think about it until just now, sooo... bring ole tequila it is!"

She honestly loved that warm feeling she got after a few shots. Started in the pit of her stomach and spread up and out. It was great! "We can order some stuff to much on if you want. Anything, really!"

It was cool, they both went to the school. Though Amelia was too cool for school. Classless. She had no class. She currently lived there, while Juniper resided elsewhere.

“Small world.” She said. “I’m just saying. Staying. No classes.” She nodded to herself. No class.

School was out forever, as far as she was concerned. Been there, done that. She had the paper somewhere to prove it.

When Juniper shouted tequila, some wise ass bar patron nearby hummed a few bars of the infamous song of the same name. Actually, she realized after she had finished. That someone had been her!

“Tequila,” she confirmed sheepishly. When was the last time she had heard that song anyways? Hadn’t they sung it in that one movie..? Teenage alien samurai terrapins?

Terrapins on the half shell. Yertle power!

She found herself smiling at her own internal monologue... which luckily also fit the appropriate reaction to Junipers liquor story.

“Boring is good enough for me!” she agreed. Her and spicy went together like her and Mirror. A nice enough romance, but apparently not meant to be once things got too hot.

Munchies? “They got French fries here? Something salty. Tequila and salt go together like chocolate and cute girls.” She announced wisely.

Oh no, that song was stuck in her head now! Bouncing around from wall to wall, filling the void with catchy beats and one word lyrics.

Tequila!

She downed another shot to try and drown it out, then vigorously shook her head. She... she should probably slow down a bit. "I'm going for my GED." She said, equally as sheepish. It was a day and age where normal people looked at you funny if you hadn't finished highschool.

"I think they do. Garlic fries... if I'm remembering correctly. Good for keeping vampires and potential dates away." She laughed, snorting slightly, and slapped a hand over her own mouth in horror. Yep! Time to cut back on the shots just a biiiiit.

Chocolate and cute girls? Heh! That got her giggling again. "Sounds like a party to me. I'll take some chocolate and cute girls any day."

Standing, this time she walked herself on over to the bar to order instead of shouting across the room at the poor workers. Two orders of fries later and she was sliding back into the booth with a loopy grin on her lips.

"Say, after this would you wanna share a ride back to the school? I don't live to far from it, but i'll probably just crash in the library or something for the night."