Participants:
| Scene Title | Comedy (Stage) Gold |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | A charity comedy set is not the most routine and borders on irreverent, and there's a bit of unexpected indoor redesign for the comedy club hosting the event. |
| Date | February 26, 2011 |
Gotham Comedy Club, Chelsea
The stage is black gold.
The Gotham Comedy Club in Chelsea is a fitting place for an irreverent comic known for poking fun at the Evolved — especially when he himself is SLC-Expressive, registered as non-manifested. Freddy Hatfield, a rising star in the dingy, dark, and dank comedy clubs across America, has returned to his roots to host a one-night charity event for the victims of the most recent violence in New York. The proceeds are promised to go to the survivors of the Dome, the riots of November 8, or the accidents of June 10. The cover charge was a bit steep at $30, on top of a two-drink minimum, but it’s all for a good cause.
The club is simple in decor — black walls, a black stage with a projection screen showing a New York skyline and the club’s logo behind it, and tiny tables all oriented to face the front. One wall boasts hundreds of pictures of the past comedians to have graced the small stage, their images scribbled over by black Sharpie in flourished autographs.
As people trickle in, the servers, dressed in black, move along the tables to take drink orders as the “warm up” comedian is eyeballed by the patrons who don’t quite stop talking to give him their full attention — he’s not the main event, and he’s only moderately funny. Most of his humor is physical and slapstick, so it’s not like they have to stop talking. There’s still a few moments before Freddy takes the stage.
As one of the earlier arrivals, Ygraine has already staked out a 'good' spot - in her present terms, that being defined as one of the quieter table in out-of-the-way shadows. Clad in a loose-fitting dark sweater and a pair of black trousers, she looks like death warmed up - features sharpened by malnourishment, pain and stress, with one arm immobilised in a sturdy sling. Her hair is free from its usual braid, covering her back in an unbound flow down past her waist. One foot - in a conveniently lace- and buckle-free boot - is propped on another chair at her table, staking a claim to it, while an overpriced glass of fruit juice rests close to her good hand. Her gaze, rather more intensely bright than usual, keeps flickering from the performer on-stage to the movements of the crowd.
It's been a hard week.
With tragedy upon tragedy, and difficulties amassing, Brian and Samara decided that they would give themselves one night. One night to forget about the flu, one night to forget about their dead adopted child, one night to pretend like they're normal. Or almost normal. Brian's drinks are gathered in front of him. While Samara has a water. Brian will most likely be getting more than hammered tonight, as he insisted on getting four alcoholic drinks to pay for the two-drink minimum. Even after the waitress told them they could get soda if she didn't want to drink. Insisting that fair is fair, Brian has a small collection of alcoholic beverages in front of him.
Sitting at a table near the front, (Brian insisted because those are the people that get made fun of) Winters is seated next to his fiancee. The current act is watched with some boredom settling over his features. But every now and then Winters leans over to murmur his own joke to Samara. One hand constantly resting on her lap,
Brian picks up his glass and takes another sip. A few other people at the table, but they are mostly ignored.
pecifically chose earlier for people who can't make late night scenes, too’
Let it not be said that Yana doesn't have a sliver of humanity left in her. Sure she does some rather soulless things, though every now and then, she does something for the heck of it, and it is usually of a monetary. Tonight, it is the comedy event, in which she attends to donate a fair share like others, so that she can feel good about herself? Mm. Probably not.. More than likely it is just to keep up appearances, believe it or not. She hangs near the back, with her expensive looking dress, shoes and sparkling jewelry. It is a moody type of night for her, so she is there only in body for the time being, hiding the lower half of her face behind a black lace folding fan. She awaits the show to start in silence, rarely checking any of the other people around, from the looks of it. When in reality, she is actually watching them.
Unlike Brian, Sam doesn't seem remotely bored. There's an easiness about her, even without the liquor to bring it on. The hand resting on her lap is given a quick squeeze while the second has fingers curled around the water glass. Her hazel eyes brighten at Brian's joke as the grin extends into a small fit of giggles hidden behind a small fan of fingers. She's been less on edge the last day or so thanks to outside encouragement.
Her head tilts slightly as a flicker of some secret delight filters into her smile. Secret enough not to completely read the mystery, but not-so-secret that no one can tell. In fact, her delight is palpable. Reminiscent of days spent nearly invisible.
She leans forward on the table, her water pushed a little in front of her as she uses a single elbow as a kind of wedge along the table top. Her chin rests upon her hand while her teeth toy at her lip. Slapstick comedy isn't altogether lost on the twenty year old, but it does beg a thought as her nose crinkles slightly, but the thought is left to settle silently. Instead, she quips, “I bet he’d make a good children’s entertainer— but not a clown, clowns are terrifying— “
Laina Corners had just arrived in New York City the day before, currently staying in a low-rent motel until she can find more permanent accomodations. However, when she found the flyer for the Freddy Hatfield comedy show earlier today, she figured it was a great idea for a night out. She can meet new people and support a good cause, all at the same time. She did not take into consideration the difficulty of finding a particular venue in a vast new city.
Laina walks into the Gotham Comedy Club as the warm up act is already in full swing … although, that's not exactly very swinging. Today, her hair is it's natural blonde, and her clothes are almost entirely orange and yellow, being comprised of a short skirt, tights, and a sweater. She orders a tequila sunrise from the bartender (mostly 'cause it's pretty), and heads to the front of room. Like Brian, she finds comedy shows more enjoyable from right up front. She takes a table that's empty, but close enough to others that she could easily whisper to the strangers beside her, should they seem amenable.
Also wearing something expensive, a black pinstripe suit, possibly purchased by Yana herself, Magnes is sitting in the back with her, arms crossed. He's certainly never been in a comedy club and is pretty sure this isn't her thing either, but he still intends to try and use some makeshift comedy club etiquette. He's also taken it upon himself to wear a black fedora with a white band around the middle.
He leans over to whisper, "Doctor Blite, I think I'd prefer Carrot Top over this guy, and that's saying a lot…"
“Thank you, thank you,” the warm-up man says after the mediocre round of applause for his mediocre and final joke. “But now, put your hands together for the man of the hour, and the genius behind this charity event. Drink up — all profits are going to a good cause, and your liver won’t know the difference for a long time, and who the hell in New York dies of natural causes anyway? Give a welcome to Freddy Hatfield!”
The man claps while a lean man in his mid 30s with shaggy blond hair takes the stage. There’s no dressing up for him — he sports a throwback Rangers jersey with Gretsky’s name on the back, jeans, and slip on Vans. He grins at the applause. “Thanks, thanks,” he says, gesturing to quiet down, and waiting until the audience has done so.
“So it’s good to be back in New York. Home Sweet Home. People were asking me why I want to come home. Blah blah blah riots, blah blah blah dome, blah blah blah terrorists, blah blah blah rude people on the subway. Like that’s the same as those other things,” Freddy punctuates his words with a talking hand to emulate a mouth.
“People think New Yorkers are rude, but this isn't true. We're busy — we don't have time for pinheaded small lobed indecision. If you go up a coffee counter and the guy says, ‘What'll it be,’ and you say, ‘I don't know, do you have,’” Freddy says, squinting up at the mock menu board and speaking in an effeminate tone. “New Yorker says, ‘I'm done. I have shit to do in my life. You stand there deciding til the end of time.’ I mean, come on! There are terrorist attacks to be planning and hot dogs to eat, I got no time for this nonsense."
Adjusting his Rangers jersey’s collar ties, Freddy goes on. “I just came in from LA. The difference between us and LA? We have real fascism here. They have liberal fascism there. You’re not allowed to smoke in a bar. What the fuck is that about?"
Though most of the star's patter hasn't exactly struck a chord with Ygraine, the crack about fascism draws a startled laugh from the darkly-clad woman lurking in the shadows - though she hastily muffles it with a somewhat pained and sheepish cough, free hand momentarily moving towards her arm before she stills the motion.
Leaving his hand on Samara's leg, Brian grins a little at her words. Reaching up to adjust his suit, he reaches down to take another drink. He hasn't been this nicely dressed in a while. With their decision to forgo the rest of the world for one night and go out they also decided to spend money they probably shouldn't be spending. A glass tilts back once again. Another drink.
Blinking through the haze of massive alcohol intake he gives Samara a bleary smile. "Hate clowns."
Glancing back up as the main act comes up, Winters sits rather still. Eyes glazed over he glances back to Samara. "In Texas you can have a loaded gun in a bar. Like cowboys. Pew pew." Brian explains before looking back up to the act. Then back to Samara. Then back to Freddy, then back to Samara. "Can I heckle? I think I'm gonna heckle. I want to get my heckle on."
"I'm sorry." Yana says to Magnes in a dull apology, "I suppose it is as bad as you say, but I have no idea who that is." Which isn't surprising, considering Yana's circle of entertainment doesn't normally extend to acts such as Carrot Top. Though she has to admit to herself that she is glad the first guy is over with. By the time of the second act, her attention looks pretty focused on the guy on stage, but in all actuality, she is distracted by her own thoughts. Behind her eyes, she is judging everything that she takes in and comparing it to the latest problem she is having.
"The world envies you." is Magnes' assessment of her having no idea who Carrot Top is, listening as the second guy goes on stage. He's not one to heckle, though Yana's distraction seems to take his attention away from the stage a lot. "What's wrong, Doctor Blite? I mean, other than the fact that we're in a comedy club." Even one with a cool name that led him to believe there would be Batman jokes.
The lanky blond comic notices Ygraine's snicker, as well as her arm in a sling. “Like, this chick knows what I’m talking about. She probably got that injury taking out a corrupt governmental thinktank or something!” he says pointing, before going back to his original rant. “I realize there’s times it’s possibly slightly inappropriate to smoke. Like in…”
He squints, trying to think hard. “An orphanage…?" the word is lilted upward as if he's not sure. "Or uh, a…” He scratches his head. “Cancer ward.” This gets a more firm nod. When he gets some laughs, he grins, and moves on.
“But in a bar? You’re drinking poison and trying to get laid unsafely by some stranger. A California would be like, ‘Duuuuude. I been doin’ tequila shooters since noon and I’m trying to shag this chick, I don’t even know her name. Can you put that out?’” The tone is the stereotypical stoner surfer, courtesy of Sean Penn in Fast Times in Ridgemont High.
“I’ll put it out when everyone drives to the show. There’s not an iota of unpaved space anywhere yet there everone feels the need to drive in a suburban four-wheeled assault vehicle Humvee. Because you never know when you might off road in Hollywood,” he says with a roll of his eyes, before glancing over his shoulder as if into the back seat. “Kids! We’re going through the McDonalds Drive Through! Grab the cross bar, stay low and keep close!”
Cracking a wry smile when she's singled out, Ygraine offers the comedian a slight wave with her available hand, before resuming sipping at her drink - trying to time it so as to reduce the risk of indelicate snorfling of liquid through nose. For the time being, however, he's back to just raising a few mild smiles.
Laina sips her drink and grins at the stage, chuckling every few jokes. Having been traveling around the country for the past few years, including LA, she's finding the jokes hitting home. At reference to others in the crowd, Laina glances around the room, before returning her gaze to the stage.
Samara seems a little engrossed in what is being presented as jokes.
So Brian lazes back into his seat some. Picking up his glass, he pounds down another drink. His head lolling back some. He peers over at Silent Samara. Lips quirking back some. "I could do better than this guy, huh.. huh?" Samara's leg gets a little jostle. "Huh?" Another jostle. "HUH!?"
If she is laughing or smiling at all, it would be very difficult to tell, behind the accessory of her fan. The type of crude humor that is delivered from the comic isn't the kind that Yana is privy to find humorous. Yet she isn't going to be the one to heckle either, as that would be rude behavior. No. She is here to support the charity, that is all, whether she finds the guy funny or not. Sometimes she wishes she could get things such as this, but then she remembers her breeding, and understands that it would be unacceptable.
"Nothing." Yana shakes her head lightly, "Just have a lot on my mind, as you well know. Been taking care of Keagan, he's been a bit sick. His immune system isn't the best, and he caught something in his time during the dome. Not having much to eat didn't help matters either. But he'll be fine."
“But seriously, New York is the best place. Lots of diversity, lots of personality, lots of hot chicks, and the best damn bagels in the world. Sure, you can’t take a piss without showing a registration card to some guy who looks like he belongs in a Terminator movie, but you know, that’s the price you pay for the Big Apple, right?” he says, pulling out his registration card from his back pocket and flashing it, before he pretends to unzip his fly.
Bathroom humor, ftw.
“You know, when it came out in, what, 2007 that we had real life super heroes with super powers, I don’t think anyone was surprised. Not if you live in a New York City apartment, anyway."
He looks around, putting a hand up to shield his eyes from stage lights. "We got any apartment superintendents in the audience?" A couple of hands shoot up, high and proud, their owners grinning like they're about to be praised.
Freddy points to each of them, then pounds his fist on his heart. "New York supers have always had powers. Amazing ones." And the two men grin more broadly, but Freddy continues.
"Namely, the power to disappear anytime there’s shit that needs to be done,” he says.
"They hear you coming, and say, ‘Quickly — in the shape of a coat rack!’” The accent is heavily accented like an Italian New Yorker’s, as Freddy suddenly lifts his arms above his head and one foot comes up to rest against the other leg's calf, flamingo style. His eyes get big and his mouth shuts tight as he looks around, eyes darting left, right, left in his 'disguise.'
When Ygraine first arrived, Le Rivage's elevator seemed to spend more time broken than not - without any explanation for why. True, its more recent (and impressively total) break-down was due to Shirley's manifestation, but the Briton still joins in with the laughter - the man's words ringing at least somewhat true, while the silly antics make for a pleasant excuse to simply smile. She does, however, glance away towards the entrance, searching for any sign of her tardy date.
Mesmerized or thinking? Evidently somewhere in between because Sami jumps a little as Brian jostles her shoulder. Her lips curl as she sidles her chair a little closer to Brian's. "You can do better than most people," Sam insists with a more brilliant smile… that fades at the notion of disappearing. In fact her face becomes somewhat blanched, but she forces a very weak, very strained grin.
The hand on her lap is given a solid squeeze as she shrugs her shoulders lightly. It's all good. Ish.
Quinn hadn't been meaning to be late. Heck, she was the one who had invited Ygraine out to this, after hearing about this the previous night. But then, work had been hectic today, with the events of the night before. But still, here she is, finally stepping into the main room of the comedy club still dresed in her bright skirt and contrasting black jacket from work. It takes her a moment to find Ygraine, but once she does, she scurries over to where she sits, an apologetic look offered up towards the stage. "Hey, sorry I'm late," she says quietly as she takes a seat. "I didn't miss all the funny stuff, did I?"
"If you need to focus on your work, I could come over and watch him. My schedule is mostly my new job and studying." And finding enlightenment, but Magnes certainly isn't going to tell her that. "Oh hell, we're in a comedy club, what if this guy recognizes me?" he asks with a bit of morbid worry, then pulls his fedora down over his eyes a bit. "This must be painful for you. I could give you some small earbuds if you want."
"Sero sed serio", Ygraine murmurs fondly to Quinn, rising to her feet to take one of the latecomer's hands in her own and claim a kiss, before settling down beside her. "They didn't know how to make an Irish Floozy, so I told them the ingredients", she murmurs, pushing a drink to her girlfriend. "I got the car sorted out today, so I can be the designated driver… and no, this is the star attraction. I'm thinking of having a word with him about publicity…"
Brian watches Samara sadly for a moment. His hand remains on her lap. Gripping it weakly. Taking another glass, he pounds yet another drink. Taking a gasping breath as he slaps the glass back down at the table he looks at her. "I'm drunk." Winters stares at her blankly for a long moment. "You're sad." Winters murmurs, leaning in some to plant a kiss against her cheek.
Brian leans in, eyeing her with a sloppy smile. "I want you to laugh."
“I like the diversity of Brooklyn best, you know?" Freddy continues. "I see Jamaican ladies taking care of little white babies and that’s gonna backfire one day you know? The mom’s gonna come home and be all ‘Johnny, eat your broccoli,’ and that kid is gonna say ‘I don’t want dat broccoli, I wanna beef pah-ty and some Red Stripe!’” he intones the last in a Jamaican accent. “”I’m going to get your father!’ ‘I ain’t skeered of dat white boy!’”
His accent is pretty good, but he does get a mix of groans with the laughter, one woman in the front scoffing and shaking her head, looking offended. She is of course blonde and pale.
“Stereotypes are bad. I know. But they’re funny and I wouldn’t have a gig if they didn’t exist, right? Talking about stereotypes — if a white man can run fast or jump high, he has to be a superman. You see someone like that, it’s like, ‘Oh, he’s an Evo!But black people, it’s expected right? Especially if faster than the speed of light means the lights on a cop car. Then they’re the black flash. If I were black, my Superhero name would be ‘fuckin’ gone’ in this city ‘cause any time I see the cops, I would be fuckin’ gone.”
Freddy strikes a pose as if running away. “Little known fact. All black people can fly, too — just not really well. That’s why there’s all those sneakers on the telephone lines in the ghetto.” There's a pause, and he looks off to stage left. "I need my riot gear, stat!"
"No. That is quite alright." Yana casually shakes her head. When it comes to family, those matters are best delt with by family. It isn't something she would bring someone else in on. Which says a lot for her attendant, Christopher. "Christopher is taking care of him when I am not available. It is his job, after all." Well, one of them. Even though she speaks with Magnes, she still appears to be watching the comedian.
Though the overt political incorrectness does seem to catch Ygraine rather off-guard - the well-bred scion of multi-cultural Briton not exactly accustomed to such things being paraded quite so publicly - she does laugh, shaking her head at Freddy's antics, before quirking another smile at Quinn. "How's the Floozy?"
There's a slight quirk of Sami's eyebrow as her head turns to face Brian. "I'm okay~" she replies musically and unconvincingly with a slight shake of her head. The empty glasses (that used to contain alcohol) are also noted, which actually brings an easier smile. "You're drunk!" she observes as her fingers tap on the table. "Do you remember that time at the club.. you were drunk then too and than Tahir and that blonde chick was there!"
Laina chuckles at the jokes. Idly, she begins changing the color of her straw and glass, shifting them from red and clear, to blue and purple, to yellow and green, etc. She figures it's too dark for anyone to see, though she doesn't really care if they can.
Quinn cocks an eyebrow at the comic on stage, laughing a sshe shakes her head and takes a sip of the drink. "I can't believe you remembered teh ingrediants," she remarks. "Or that they have them all. But it;s good. I should talk t' Nadira about getting that drink recipie published or something, if something like it doesn't already exist."
The comic looks pleased with the mixed reactions to the un-PC humor. Again, he wouldn't have a job if he couldn't play off of the stereotypes, though he might want a bodyguard on the way home. “Speaking of flying… Did you hear about the guy with powered flight? He had a crush on this other girl and went to a party specifically to hook up with her. She isn’t there, so his friend tells him, ‘Just go find her if that’s what you want!’ So the guy gets some courage up and takes off. The next day, he runs into the friend who asks him how it went, since the guy never returned to the party.”
Freddy looks glum, taking on the persona of the character. “I looked all over for her and finally found her on a beach, naked as she could be, looking like she was having the time of her life writhing around so I got myself ready and decided to take a chance and went to plow right the fuck into her.
He then looks up, speaking in the friend’s voice. “How’d that go? I bet she was surprised!” Looking down again, Freddy shakes his head.
“Not as surprised as the guy with invisibility that she was with.”
"Nothing but the best for my beloved", Ygraine murmurs fondly to Quinn - though she accompanies her words with a playful wink. "And having come up with the very notion of having a drink by that name, and it being in the honour of a certain someone, how could I not make a point of remembering what goes into it?"
Any further commentary on Irish Floozies is, however derailed by a snort and then a laughing groan, as Ygraine spots the punchline of the joke before it arrives.
"Well, is there anything I can do to make your life a bit easier?" Magnes asks with his eyes going from Yana and to the comic every few minutes or so. He raises a hand to lightly rub the back of his neck, not sure how to respond to some of that. "If you get too offended, we can leave, you know. I could just, um… Did he just make a…"
This is also a joke that makes Quinn giggle, shaking her head as she takes a sip of her drink. "This guy isn't too bad. I bit much so far, but it's prety good." She leans back in her seat and smiles as she looks aorund the room, wondering who else might be here. She doesn't spot Magnes, dressed as he is. Or anyone else, really. She's too focused on the stage.
"Magnes, please. There is really no need for you to concern yourself with making my life easier. It would really better suit your cause in finding what you want and need to be doing if you were to focus less on making comfort for me, and more on yourself." lightly, she shakes the folding fan in front of her face, cooling her skin in it's motion. "I am a pretty independent woman. I don't need to be fawned over so. Assisting me is one thing, attending to me is completely different." finally, she pulls the fan closed, which reveals her cool, neutral expression behind it. She is certain she heard that joke somewhere before. From a student at the university some time ago. Ah well, it is for a good cause, is it not?
“I’m not all about sex and racism though," their comic protests when some people grown and the guys in the audience blanch a bit. "We’re gonna have a government lesson. One thing I’ve noticed, people get all their types of government mixed up, so I’m gonna give you a way to remember them all,” Freddy says, moving to a white board set in place for him and drawing two cows on the board.
“First off is feudalism. You have two cows, and your lord takes some of the milk. Then there’s socialism. You have two cows, the government takes them and puts them with everyone else’s cows. You all have to take care of all the cows, and the government gives you as much milk as they think you need. Next is fascism. The government takes both your cows, hires you to take care of them, then sells you the milk — but only if they like you.”
He writes each term on the board as he goes. “Communism: You have two cows and take care of them, and the government takes the milk. Dictartorship: You have two cows, and the government takes both and drafts you for the army. Democracy: you have two cows, and you vote for someone who will tell you who gets the milk.”
Freddy begins to spell out a word, wiping it out with his fingers over and over again. B-U-E-A… B-U-R-O … B-U-R-A … B-U-R-R-I-T-O… Finally B-U-L-L-S-H-I-T.
"This spells Bureaucracy: You have two cows. The government regulates what you can feed them and when you can milk them, then pays you not to feed them, then takes both, shoots one, milks the other, and pours the milk down the drain, before requiring you to fill out forms accounting for the missing cow.”
Freddy then writes ???? on the board. “Whatever the hell you call what we have now," he says with a wave of his hand toward the board.
"You have two cows. The government hires government agents: an animal telepath to come in and convince the cows to produce more milk, a volume manipulator to make more of the milk, and an alchemist to turn all the milk into gold,” he explains, before gesturing to the audience. “And your job's to deal with the shit, New York.”
"Yes, Doctor Blite. I apologize." Magnes sits up straight and goes quiet, focusing squarely on the comedian now. His eyes can't help but wander a bit, and he spots Quinn and lightly moves a hand to Yana's shoulder for her attention. "One of my bandmates is here, is there a chance you'd like to meet her? It might make being here a bit more interesting."
Sam nearly chokes on her water as the punchline is given to that joke. Her mouth gapes open slightly as her head tilts at the man on the stage. That was an unexpected. While coughing loudly she receives several hearty pats on her back from her very intoxicated fiancee. The water is brought to her lips again as she tries to suppress the incessant coughing. "Wow," she gruffly clears her throat around the word.
Ygraine 'applauds' that latest punchline as best she can, stamping with one foot and lightly thumping the palm of her hand on the table, shaking her head and flashing a grin at Quinn. "I wasn't expecting that one", she admits sotto voce. "I'm thinking of asking if he'll record a rant, perhaps. Something to post on YouTube and the like…."
Laina laughs at the punchline of the last joke. Unobtrusively ducking down, she reaches forward and touches the edge of the stage. From her hand outward, the stage appears to turn to gold. It's not noticed until the parts under the lights change color, but at that point it becomes obvious.
Freddy grins as the joke earns more laughs than the others, and tosses his dry erase marker to Samara. His head turns at Laina in his periphery, but he's already looking out into the audience, not down at his feet to address the crowd again.
“So it’s about time to wrap up, and I want to say, you’ve been a fabulous audience. I was so worried I was gonna bomb tonight, but then I thought, hey, the Midtown Man opened in New York, too, he bombed, and he's famous now!” There’s a mix of groans and laughter.
Meanwhile, the crowd begins to ooh and ahh as the stage shifts from black to gold in color, and people begin to look around for the culprit. Freddy, for his part, merely looks confused, turning to look around, and finally down to his feet.
"Huh. I didn't think I was that nervous, y'all…"
More bathroom humor ftw.
Yana is then focused upon the stage as the girl moves to.. change it's color? This catches her attention quite well, giving her a bit of tunnel vision with an arched brow and a slow narrow of her eyes. How.. strange, and very bold of the girl to just cast her ability on the comedian's act. Hrm. It is then that Magnes is touching her, and like normal, it is an uninvited touch. He startles her, because she had no idea he would even do such a thing, she believes him to be something else. A bug perhaps, a fly or a spider? And she quickly reacts, snapping out with her hand holding the fan to smack at the intruder. A quick check from her accessory before she realizes it was Magnes who touched her. "Oh. You startled me. What were you saying?" There really is no apology from her, as she was the one who was invaded at the time.
Magnes yelps lightly and takes his hand back to rub it, and nods in Quinn's direction. "My bandmate is here, we should go over… Alright, maybe we should stay here, just in case I have to step in." He nods to the now gold stage. "Never know when Humanis First might try to pull something on an Evolved showing her ability in public."
Ygraine involuntarily attempts to combine a gape with a laugh and a gasp - the sheer daring of the Midtown joke catching her thoroughly off-guard, perhaps in part because of her memories of the day in question. And that helps to explain her laughter when the final crack is offered, in response to the unexpected transformation of the stage. She's not exactly corpsing, but is definitely having to actively fight off a fit of the giggles.
"The hell?" Quinn looks a little confused as well, having been ready to clap since it was apparently the end of the man's set. A shame! She starts to, until she realises that the colours aren't his doing - and instinctually looks downa t her own hands, to make sure she hasn't unintentionally shifted the colours in the room. That doesn't seem to be the case, though, so instead, she just looks around, immensely curious.
"How drunk am I.."
Brian smiles brightly as he starts to lean over and place his head on Samara's shoulder. "You are like.. as pretty as.." A lazy smile spreads across his lips. Eyes closing for a moment. Focusing on the stage he gives a quickl little chuckle. "This guy is so fuuuneeeeee.."
After about a minute, the entire stage has taken on the gold color. Laina resumes her seat, looking rather amused at herself.
Ushers and the manager start coming along to peer at the stage, as well as anyone who looks like they might be responsible — luckily for Laina, no one but a few of the audience members noticed her specifically, and so far no one's pointing fingers.
"Only in New York, man," Freddy says, bending down to touch the stage curiously, rubbing at the stage as if to see if the color will come off, then peeking at his fingers.
“Speaking of the Midtown Man, I heard a rumor that the guy ate brains. He ate brains. He must've been a momma's boy, because when my mother told me that something was brain food, I always fed it to the dog. You have to wonder if he had 'em with chianti," he muses. "Me, I'm a shiraz fan myself."
His delivery is a little shook up from the ushers moving around.
"Yeaaaaah~"
Sam smirks slightly at Brian before glancing back at the stage, "I think he's funnier when you've had a few. Like most things, actually. I remember last time— " it's been some time since she drank last, "— I vaguely remember laughing at the word spoon. Just because if you say a word enough it stops sounding like a word and starts sounding like nothing more than sounds. Spoon. Spoon. Spoon. Spoon." Beat. "Or moist. Moist doesn't sound like a word when you're sober… think of how much worse it would be drunk…" Her cheeks flush a pale pink. "That's probably the real reason they make you buy two drinks~" she virtually sings before pressing a finger over her lips.
Serial-killer brain humour? Okay, this is really pushing into places Ygraine had never even considered as a potential source of comedy. Not quite sure that she's able to believe her ears, her chuckling dies down to a somewhat stunned smile.
Yana decides that it would probably be best if she were to replace the fan back over her face for the time being. For one thing, she might be less inclined to smack Magnes with it again if it were unfolded, and another, it does well to hide the smirk that crosses her face, watching the girl and peering around for anyone that could be coming to creep up on her, either to escort her out, or sap her over the head. Either would be a highlight to this evening for her. The thought of another's misfortune actually lightens her mood a bit. Her eyes showing the signs of her elevated demeanor. "I'm perfectly alright with sitting here, if you wished to go retrieve her. Something could happen after all, and I would hate to miss it."
Freddy runs a hand through the shock of blond hair that hangs in his eyes, watching the ushers walk by Laina who is now sitting properly in her seat. He's not sure if it was her — and it's not his stage, so what does he care? Besides, it looks nice gold. Maybe.
"Anyway, I've got to confess before I go, come clean, you know?” He shoves his hands in his pockets, looking contrite, before continuing.
“You know that storm last year? Totally my fault. I was dating this chick for months, you know, like over a year, and I hadn't even gotten up her shirt yet. And clearly I am a hot and eligible bachelor, so it couldn’t be anything that was my doing, so I was like 'Jeeze, baby, can you be any more of a cold fish?'”
He shrugs, pulling his hands out of his pockets, upturning them in an apologetic gesture. “Turns out, she was Evo, and she took me literally." He grimaces. "My bad. Sorry, guys." The frown turns to a smile as some jeer and others laugh.
“Thanks again, New York! Keep picking up that bullshit!” he yells as he heads off the stage.
"Spooon."
Brian's head is lolling on Samara's shoulders and his lips are parted, giggles expeditiously fleeing from them. "Baby you're like.. The hilariousest." One hand climbs up slowly, a finger extending to poke into Samara's cheek gently. "Sooo funny." He murmurs happily. His hand flattens against her cheek, pushing against her face. Smooosh. And then abruptly his hand drops. "Wellp. I'mma go make you laugh."
And with that Brian is shoving himself to his feet. And going towards the stage.
Winters goes to reclaim the microphone that Freddy is abandoning. "He-heeeey~"
"This guy is just asking for someone to shoot him. But it looks like things are over, and those ushers have the girl handled." Magnes stands, straightening his suit and then his hat, finally offering his hand for Yana's. "Let's get going, Doctor Blite. If anything's going to happen, it'll happen before we get to the door."
"Case in point— " Sam starts to quip as Brian repeats the word 'spoon'. Her eyebrows raise high on her forehead as Brian makes his way to the microphone. Her lips part as she wordlessly watches in shock. But with widening eyes she shoves out from the table to traipse after Brian. She stops just shy of the stage, "Brian… sweetheart, honey bunches of oats, darling… please," she glances towards the door. "You can.. make me laugh on the way home?" the suggestion is squeaked out, not really audible considering their placements with her on the floor and him on the stage.
Laina sticks around. For one thing, she wants to see what the ushers end up doing about the stage. And, for another, she wants to see what they do about the drunk guy on the stage. As funny as the main event was, the clean-up's looking to top things off. She takes another sip of her drink, which is heading fast toward empty.
Ygraine again applauds, chuckling as Freddy departs the stage - then laughs and groans as Brian ventures forth to find out just how the security here deal with drunks grabbing for the club's equipment. Of all the people to try it, it's somehow not a surprise that it's Brian….
One of the ushers hurries to the stage to cut the microphone rather than wrestle the drunk man for it — apparently they have protocol set up for such things. "If you could just exit along with the others, sir," the college-aged kid says nervously. Meanwhile, the MC comes along to pick up another microphone, turning it on and speaking into it.
"Thank you for coming to our charity event! We'd like to let you know it's 8:20 p.m. so as much as we'd like to take more of your money in exchange for the pleasure of getting you drunk, our doors need to close in 10 minutes so that we can get our asses home in time for curfew. There's a donation jar and merchandise in the lobby. Have a great night."
"Man I had some good jokes." Brian mumbles. Giving Samara a plain faced stare. "What? Uh.. Okay." He concedes, going to take Samara's hand and be led out. Looking over his shoulder, "Call my aghent. I am really good." With that he looks back to Samara. "You're like the prettiest thing in the earf." A toothy smile climbs up his lips. "This is the best day of my life!"
By the time the show is over, Yana is finalizing filling out a check of a substantial amount, addressed to the name of the charity in question. "I suppose you're right." she licks her finger tip, and pulls the paper from the bunch, ripping the serrated edges. After securing her checkbook back into her purse, Yana rises from her seat with Magnes' assistance, being sure to stop on her way by the jar to deposit her check. "Not a totally wasted evening. Some good was done here."
Still grinning, Laina drains the last of her drink and stands. She briefly considers approaching the management to offer to change the stage back to its original black, but decides in the end to leave it. They can always paint over the gold, if they want.
Wanting to be helpful, Laina walks up to Samara and Brian. "Need any help with him?" she asks the younger woman. If Brian passes out, she's not sure if Samara can carry him by herself.
There's a hint of blush at Brian's comment and the tug of his hand on hers, but Sami literally beams at the compliment. "You're just saying that because you're all loose lipped and floaty feeling," she counters, but she's smiling. The word earf can always bring a smile to her lips. "Besides, you're the prettiest~" Her eyes narrow slightly as she watches him, "And what makes today the best?" she tugs his hand tighter still.
Sam's head turns to the woman addressing her, issuing the other a warm and rather grateful smile. "I think.. " her teeth toy with her bottom lip as she hmmms, "…if we can just get outside to a cab or something I can handle it from there…"
"Sounds good." Laina smiles back. "I'll take the other side." She helps support Brian as they walk out to the street.
As they reach the sidewalk, Laina holds out her hand. "I'm Laina."
Lingering in the shadows, Ygraine opts to let the rest of the audience depart before rising to her feet and getting into motion - bowing formally, then offering her good arm to Quinn as a gentleman might to a lady. "Your carriage awaits madame", she solemnly announces, before escorting her out into the night.
Brian clings to Samara's hand, grinning broadly. But when another woman comes up all up on him on the other side, his brows arch high. Bwuh? He glances back to Sam. Then back to the girl that is holding him. Wait how did this happen. The girl said 'sounds good' Samara said something about 'handling it'. O em gee. "Oh Sam. You're the best. We are all going to have such a good time." his head lolls backwards, happily.
Sam's hazel eyes flicker to Laina and then back to Brian. And then to Laina again. The smile remains, even with Brian's misunderstanding as she shakes her head. "Nonononono— that's not…" her cheeks flush a pale pink. "The list, Brian. The list." Yes. There's a list. It exists. She peeks over at Laina as she sidles closer to her fiancee to prop him up, "Sam. Or Sami. Good to meet you."