(2017-11-12) FEVER TIME!
Summary: Fionnuala, Carmichael, and Garrett meet at the disco!
Date: IC Date (2017-11-12)
Related: None
NPCs: None
Scene Runner: None

It's.. not very often that Fionnuala Reid puts herself 'out there' and elects to join a few other girls for a night on the town. Well, whatever a 'night on the town' consists of for teenagers! It can go in any manner of ways, it just depends on one's moral bearing! Seeing as how it's Fionnuala, one can guess the direction of her night: good, innocent fun. Too bad she was invited out by a group of Ares girls who thought it amusing to string along the eccentric Promethean girl! Cough.

So here they are, packed into the Downtown Funk youth club on this particular Saturday night, the 'companions' of the shifter scattered like seeds into the crowd with a distinct lack of Fionnuala in their presence. The girl knows that she has been ditched; it doesn't seem to bother her as she sits by her lonesome in a booth at the edge of the dance floor, some manner of throbbing, electronic dance music pouncing in her head.. right down to her bones. She looks pretty enough with her eyes aglow with the accumulation of the day's sunlight. Hair pulled back and up high, body outfitted in a dark burgundy dress with black lace trimmings, Fee watches the crowd of teens getting caught up in the music.

The quiet '*paf*' doesn't carry over the loud music, but the reaction to it certainly does!



That apology's in a voice Fionnuala might recognize, too. In the vague direction of the disgruntled teen voice, there's the top of a large pair of black wings navigating through the crowd. Though not as carefully as they could be, from the sound of it. A vague '*ptoo*' and a feather is launched into the air from behind one sheepish-faced Carmichael as the crowd parts to reveal him. Yeah, having a large pair of wings is not good for navigating a large crowd of densely-packed people, is it?

Carmichael's in a loose turtleneck sweater this time, though the back's been removed to allow for his wings. At least his pants aren't bothered by the wings. Which is probably good, because it's a pair of those shiny and squeaky leather ones that, on the one hand are painted on tightly enough to look fetching, but on the other, will make a loud flatulence-like sound if one slides across the seat of a booth while wearing them. And he's got a pair of those clompy chained combat boots on his feet. The whole ensemble is black.

Garrett makes his entrance into Downtown Funk with a somewhat uncertain look on his face, no companions (ditching or otherwise) with him as he enters the club. He is, for a change, /not/ wearing his Coral Springs attire, instead garbed in a pair of dark blue skinny jeans a black V-neck t-shirt. Hardly ideal for the weather outside in November, but excellent for a packed club. Familiar faces are few for the young man, and faces he can actually put a name to are even fewer, so he's slow in his weaving through the crowd without any particular destination. His footsteps take him vaguely in the direction of Fee, though it's safe to assume that's more chance than planning.

The watchful Fee is quick to 'tune into' the sounds of disturbance as the angelic boy arrives. She sits there stirring her rapidly-defrosting strawberry mocktail, big topaz eyes rounding in surprise over the winking rim of the glass as she listens to the exchanges. Though magic hides her own set of feathered appendages, her heart goes out to him sympathetically. Sitting up straight, Fee cranes her neck to squint in the direction of the fray.

The winged one is easy to spot, and spot him she does.. even if Carmichael's rocking of his attire causes the girl to blush just a bit, she hastens to come to his rescue.. even if, perhaps, he does not need rescuing. "Carmichael!" Fee's singsong voice over the din. Meanwhile, perhaps the approaching Garrett may recognize the small, black-haired girl waving frantically in the direction of a cluster of teenagers. She's all over the Promethean dorm like a bad smell most days, and both her apprearance and tone — even in hollaring — are friendly enough. As she gestures, she is oblivious to how her drink is.. slowly.. beginning to be shoved toward the edge of her booth table!

Carmichael does recognize the voice, and turns in that direction. He gives a bright smile when he notices Fionnuala, and heads in her direction. Also probably heading in Garrett's direction, though he doesn't quite know that just yet — they haven't been introduced yet!

"Well, well! Fancy meeting you here!" Carmichael replies brightly, in his usually British-accented voice. "I didn't exactly think this was your kind of place — oh!" He's noticed the drink and moves to right it. Though there's no guarantee that he'll get there first.

Garrett notices the drink and is reaching to stop it from falling, somehow failing to notice Carmichael, and as a result almost runs into him as Garrett's hand reaches the glass. "Oh, sorry," Garrett says, offering a small smile and holding up the not-drink-saving hand. Once he's certain he didn't run into the other boy, Garrett looks at both Carmichael and Fee. "I've seen you two around, right?" he asks the pair, the question more a formality than any actual uncertainty; the school is small, and it's not hard to at least have seen everyone in passing, regardless of actual introductions. "Garrett," he adds, by way of introduction.

<FS3> Fionnuala rolls Solarkinesis: Great Success.

The half-angel catches onto her voice calling him, and Fee smiles sunnily at him — literally. She has been out for the entirety of the day, drawing in that glorious energy… even as the great orb in the sky occasionally hid behind the clouds, even just the ambient energy was sucked in. The result? Fionnuala is radiant; irises occasionally flashing a brilliant 'lemon yellow', her skin not quite sparkling persay, just…. radiant. To come close to her is to feel a harmless aura of warmth which only serves to further her ebullient nature. Though, occasionally, tiny speckles of light dance across her fingertips, though this could be taken as any manner of effect from the strobe lights.

As Carmichael approaches, Fee is startled by the series of events that that follow! The poor little strawberry mocktail is about to topple from the end of the table and not one, but TWO boys scoot in to catch it! Garrett lands the rescue and the shifter's shock eases into genuine amusement. "Hey, thanks! You caught onto my tactic for bringing in company.. throw a glass, see who shows up." Fee offers sunnily, her own words just barely touched (in the inflections) by a Scottish accent. To Garrett first, "I have seen you before.. I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself. My name is Fionnuala," She chimes, soon turning her smile to Carmichael. "This isn't my typical scene. Because, you see, I've been stood up." She says too cheerfully.

Carmichael offers a smile when Garrett appears. "Hey, nice save! We both had the same idea, looks like," he comments, with a chuckle. As for whether Garrett's seen him around? Carmichael laughs a bit. "It'd be hard to miss these." He hooks a thumb back at his wings, not wanting to risk flapping them and hitting someone ELSE. He nods to the introduction. "Pleased to meet you properly. Name's Carmichael."

He also smiles in Fee's direction. "You're looking quite sunny," he observes. "You must have been out most of the day." As for having been stood up? Carmichael grins. "Their loss, then! You have not one, but TWO attractive conversational partners now. I think you win the evening. Or we do, because we get to spend our time with such a beautiful lady." He winks playfully. Yeah, he's that kind. But it's OK, he's only teasing a little.

"The question might've been kind of a formality," Garrett admits, grinning at Carmichael and the nigh-impossible-to-miss wings. And then his attention turns to the drink's owner. Maybe he's just never got a good look at Fee in her full, sunny glory, but he pauses a moment before offering a wide smile. "Nice to meet you, Fionnuala," he says, then grins at Carmichael's assessment of the trio's fortunes for the evening. "Yeah, lucky all of us," he agrees, nodding.

The shifter can only imagine the chaos of keeping large wings wrangled in so packed a place.. ugh. She peers past the two young fellows in her company to spy the previous cluster of peers shuffling and gawking, most likely the ones who got wing-bampfed! The surly bucks amble off into the pulsing crowd, the musical selection rocking the very air which surrounds all of them. Sure that they won't be problematic, Fee turns her attention back to her present company.

"See? All good things come to those who wait, and plot, and toss out some well-meaning clumsiness. I'm sure if I hadn't hollared, ya would've seen me glowing like a beacon. I've been out all day. If you want—-" Blink, blush? Gah, there he goes again with the teasing 'beautiful' talk, which serves to redden the girl's face… especially notable due to her 'glow'. "Charming as ever. Watch out for this one, Garrett." Fee grins to the young man who is yet a stranger to her, nodding over toward the half-angel. "You can both sit here, if you want. Make sure I don't trash the place."

Assuming the pair concede, Fee watches Garrett and returns his wide smile. "Do you have family here in Shady Cove?"

Carmichael chuckles at the mention of the questionable formality of Garrett's question. "Probably, yeah. Good to meet you properly, either way," he offers, with a smirk. But if no one has noticed the dorkiness yet, Fee's blush prompts a rather silly smile. Not one of those 'aha, gotcha' looks, no. One of someone who's genuinely pleased with something.

The offer to sit gets a smile, and he slips into the other side of the booth. He's careful not to slide his butt across the seat, because of aforementioned possibility of farting noise due to his pants if he did. He actually moves down to the end of the booth, so Garrett can sit next to him. That way they won't be crowding Fee.

Garrett smiles as he notices the color in Fee's cheeks, but doesn't comment on it. "Yeah, nice to meet you, too," Garrett agrees, nodding to Carmichael. At the offer to join her, Garrett's smile becomes just a tad shy, and he spends a long moment looking indecisive as to which side of the booth to sit on; the options, after all, are next to the pretty girl or big wings. And then Carmichael is sliding over to make room, and Garrett slides into the seat beside him.

"Um, no. Not yet, anyways. My parents said after Christmas we'll all talk and decide on moving up here, or staying in Philadelphia," he explains. "What about you?" he asks, glancing between Fee and Carmichael. "Family in town?"

"I came here with a few girls, about… a half hour ago. They weren't too keen on my dance moves and dropped me like a bag of rocks." Fee handwaves, little sparks of light following sensitive fingers. She has the look of one who is used to it: both the letting of sunlight, and thriving outside of the crowd. Fee is, for the most part, comfortable in her own skin. No, she's not immune to feelings surrounding being made the outcast, it's just.. tonight? It's no biggie.. and besides, look at the sorts she attracted in being a loud klutz!

As the two settle across from her, Fee leans back and folds her hands into her lap, politely. She doesn't look crowded in the least but rather, pleased. She listens to Garrett's answer openly and with curiousity, "Philadelphia! Never been, ever. So this is kind of a.. trial period for you and your family? I really hope you're enjoying your stay here.. my Ma and Da are in town, happy as larks. Ma teaches kindergarten, Da.. he's a chef. He's working to have his own restaurant." Fee colors prettily, with pride, before silencing to allow Carmichael to answer.

Carmichael shakes his head to Garrett's question. "No. My father has the idea that I should learn to fend for myself. Sink or swim, you know?" He chuckles. "Bit of an arse at Christmas, though." But aside from that he doesn't say anything else on the subject of his family.

He smiles at the sparks from her fingers, and reaches a hand out trying to catch one. Should he be able to, it'll disappear, though it'll send his fingers glowing for a bit. Fee will know what's going on; that's generally what happens when he absorbs sunlight.

Though as to her situation. "Oh I hate that," he says, with a frown. "God forbid that one of your classmates isn't PERFECT, eh? Heaven forfend that they might actually have to TEACH you something; that'd be actual WORK. And BONDING! And all that ridiculous nonsense!" He shakes his head.

"Something like that, yeah," Garrett confirms, nodding in response to Fee's assessment. "They're talking about maybe looking at Thunder Bay. They figure there's more demand for engineers and lawyers there," he explains. The general radiance of Fee in her sun-filled glory is apparently fascinating, because Garrett spends more time looking across the booth than he does at the winged boy next to him.

Not that Carmichael is ignored, of course. The condemnation of the students that bailed on Fee earns a little chuckle. "That'd be the nice thing to do, and there'll be none of that, understand," Garrett says with a mock stern tone and pointed finger before rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

Not to worry, Carmichael's pretty focused on Fee too! So he couldn't really think ill of Garrett for doing the same thing. Though he does note, "I hope they do move a little closer. The commute from here to back home is an arse. Particularly over holidays. I've had my plane ticket booked since August. And if I /don't/ book it that far in advance, I usually don't get home 'till Boxing Day."

He then picks up a mock look of being chastened at the mock stern look from Garrett. "Oh, Heavens no! We can't have THAT!" he mock-agrees, then chuckles when Garrett rolls his eyes.

"Yes, none of that." Garrett gives one last dry laugh and head-shake. "I'm thirsty, you two want anything?" he asks, sliding out of the booth and rising to his feet. He lingers long enough for requests to be made before trying to pick his way through the crowd to fetch refreshments.

Does Fee realizes that she is being watched? Perhaps. She seems to have been struck dumb for a moment, perhaps wrapped up in a touch of shyness.. or maybe she's just contemplating the answers as she hears them, getting to know the two boys across from her. She isn't doing much to really draw attention.. simply being, allowing the solar energy to roil and sparkle. If it amuses Carmichael and Garrett, all-the-better! She really is dense in some respects, though..

However, the jest made at the expense of her fairweather dates results in the girl's sunny laughter, head tossing back with glee. If she's the focus here, she hastens to not be such for long. Fee's curiosity boils over and she looks ready to dish out more questions, but then Garrett stands and offers. "How about a ginger ale? This mock dacquiri tastes like dirty koolaid."

As the other boy moves to get drinks, Fee looks to Carmichael. "Would you like a spot of sunlight, while we wait? I feel like a beacon!"

"Lemonade, if they have it. Orange juice if not," Carmichael replies, as Garrett stands up. "Thanks," he offers, with a smile. Fee's question of sunlight gets a nod. "If you'd like to bleed some of it off, sure." He offers out a hand over the table, palm-up.

"I'd better. It's a bother dealing with it at home.. Ma and Da would lock me out in the shed." Fee giggles to herself, and extends one lithe palm to hover just over Carmichael's. It needn't be anything as dramatic as taking his hand, though doing so would have the same results.. only with the added bonus of Fee smouldering with another blush. It's not her way to be holding a boy's hand! So her warm palm hovers just a centimeter or two over the splayed hand of the half-angel, and the radiant heat is considerable. Her gaze flits down, hooded by long black lashes, and the flash of energy in her irises pulses and glistens as she focuses her solarkinetic energy into this one point… as innocuously as possible. It's malleable to her mind and influence, and even as little orbs of light dance and flicker around the girl's shoulders, it's focused in the space between her hand and Carmichael's.

Behaving as a conduit, the shifter simply guides her soler energy into Carmichael's being, 'feeding' him the excess that she will have had to shoot off into the sky later on, or allow to 'bleed' out of her wings. Carmichael is left to do with the energy, as he will. It's pure and full, a day's worth.

"Oh dear. It's far too cold for someone to sleep in a shed," Carmichael notes, chuckling. Though he knows she's probably kidding. Mostly. Carmichael smiles in response to the sunlight being offered. The smile is a tranquil one, like someone might have when listening to a particularly soothing-sounding song. The hand underneath Fionnuala's glows brightly as it's absorbed into him. The only other visibly signs are that bronzey hints in his wings, at the ends of his feathers, glow a little, suddenly looking more gold.

Once she's bled off what she needs to, Carmichael pulls his hand back to his general space. "Thanks. It's pretty lucky that works so well, isn't it?"

It needn't take long.. she knows Carmichael can handle the brunt, and that signal will be 'there' when it's time to ease off. Fee's eyes close briefly as the light fades and as the boy's wings take on a golden cast to the feathers, the pesky flickers of light which harangued the shifter are… no more. When the fringes of her lashes part to reveal her gaze once more, the irises are no longer that hectic pulse of bright yellow; nor are they topaz. It is a calm cornflower blue which looks out from the girl's features now. "Thanks again.. I hope it's not awkward for you.. people could have a field day with the setup we have." Fee admits with a giggle, stirring her neglected strawberry drink.

Much as Carmichael looks serene, so too does Fee. One with a mind in the gutter would have a hayday with these congruent expressions of contentment. c.c

A glance to see how Garrett is faring, then the girl looks back to the taller boy. "Did I ever ask.. what your parents' names were? I got to wondering, with all this talk about families and how you wouldn't see your own til' Boxing Day."

"They'd have a bigger field day if it was the other way around — if /I/ was the one supplying /you/ with sunlight, the rumors would be insane. I'll leave you to imagine what they'd be like," Carmichael replied, with a grin. Making a bit of a dirty joke, though granted, at his own expense just as much as at hers. Apparently Carmichael's mind is at least a little in the gutter!

As for his family? "Oh, I will this time," Carmichael notes. "Just, if I hadn't already booked my ticket for Christmas break, I wouldn't. Though no, I don't believe you've asked. They don't show up here often, so it's unlikely anyone will ever meet them. Tends to be too hot in the States for Mum. Dad though… might show up, who knows. He's weird. Which is where I got it from." He smirks.

He also looks up, as Fee does, to look towards where Garrett went to. It's easy to get lost inamongst so many people. Hopefully, if he got sidetracked, it's a good kind of sidetracked!

The girl dissolves into giggles again, the throbbing of the music not quite as frantic as it slows down a tad, in-turn altering the movement of the bodies on the floor. Almost like a chemical reaction, the frenzied movements of teenagers dancing, gesticulating and all of the actions in between slows down. Dancing comes into closer quarters, or none at all. Fee notes this, blushes. Notes Carmichael's jest in regards to rumors? Blushes more. "Maybe I shouldn't.. I can only imagine, is right!"

Making sure she simply, uh.. 'hovers' over the gutter… Fee latches onto the distraction of an answered question as the lights above the dance floor pulse in an array of blues and purples. "I understand.. I won't grill you but—oh! I have a weird dad, too! Really weird! But he's such a teddy bear, truly.. though he can be a bit scary. But you wear weirdness well. Like… kinda like a coat." Fee tries to flirt back, blinks at her folley… reddens. "Uh… I mean… yeah. You're pretty cool for a weird guy, Carmichael." She tries again. Huh… still…

BLUSH. She lifts her stale drink, "Hurrah for weird parents!" A for effort, Fee. She eyes the crowd, "THink he's okay in there?"

"Sorry about that, this place is a zoo!" Garrett returns, beverages in hand, sliding a ginger ale over to Fee before giving Carmichael his lemonade, leaving a coke for himself. "So, what'd I miss?" he asks, looking quite thoroughly flushed from trying to navigate the mass of teenagers and find his companions again, though a smile is on his face now that he's found his way back.

Carmichael chuckles. "Oh, I don't know… sometimes imagining is pretty fun," he notes. "Or hilarious — you know the old advice if you're nervous about speaking in public, imagine everyone naked? That can be either hilarious or traumatizing. Though I suppose in this case it's similar — hilarious or traumatizing." He chuckles.

He also seems to find the mention of wearing weirdness like a coat amusing, since he laughs. "I wonder what a coat made of weirdness would look like?" he observes. "The only thing I can think is 'technicolor dreamcoat', and that just makes me laugh far more than it should."

As to the mention of Garrett? "With any luck he's gotten sidetracked by a pretty girl," Carmichael replies. "Not to keep him away, mind. But that would be the good kind of sidetracked, is all. The bad kind of sidetracked is… well, bad, and I wouldn't want that to have happened to him."

And then there's Garrett! "Ah, there you are. We were just wondering where you went," Carmichael replies. And he nods. "You're right, it is." As for what he missed? "Some conversation, and I helped Fee in bleeding off some of her excess sunlight, as I do. You see, we both absorb it, but I believe she doesn't really use it for much?" He looks to Fionnuala for confirmation. "So she usually ends up glowing. Which, as beautiful as it is, can be a bit of a pain. I absorb sunlight, but I use it as fuel, so a while back I offered to help her get rid of it."

"What would a coat made of weirdness look like? I have seen things," Fee admits, watching the crowd for their classmate. Big eyes flit back to Carmichael, "I work very part-time at a thrift store in town. I have seen literal coats made out of weirdness. Some of the best ones have truly ghastly patterns of plaid." Her smile is slow and quirky, eyes glittering.. even without the sunlight. The 'technicolor dreamcoat' term is lost on her, though her head tilts in question. She is about to pose such a query until… 'lo! Garrett emerges!

She smiles brightly at the boy in re-greeting, looking thankful as Carmichael describes the happenings at the table in his absence. She is no longer 'glowing', and her eyes are blue as-opposed to bright yellow… but she still looks very pleasant indeed. "I don't wanna match the strobe lights, so Carmichael did me a service. Thanks for the soda!" She exclaims, leaning back in her side of the booth once Garrett re-joins them.

"So you're Prometheus, Garrett? THat's where I remember seeing you, in the dorm commons.. I'm usually studying there in the evenings if you're ever needing a hand with anything, or even to settle in." She offers, helpfully.

"Just took a while to get drinks. And find the right table again," Garrett explains, taking a drink from his soda. "Oh, so that's where your glow went." He glances over at Carmichael. "Neat." He nods a confirmation when Fee ventures her guess as to where she's seen Garrett. "Yeah, I am. A Guardian, that is. And that's very nice of you! Actually, could I, um, pester you to maybe sit still for, uh, a sketch at some point?" he asks, a tad uncertainly, before raising his cup to his lips once more, perhaps in an attempt to cover the hint of red that appeared on his face. And then he promptly drops said cup, covering his front in ice-cold coke.

"Ah, crap!" Garrett jumps to his feet, mostly minimizing the amount of spill ont he table or seat, but doing little to keep it off himself. "Oh, this is gonna' make for a fun trip back to school. I should go. Um, nice meeting you too." And with a quick wave and a beet-red face, Garrett makes a hasty retreat.

Carmichael places a hand on his chest, as if the mention of ghstly plaid has sent his system into shock. He is, of course, kidding. "Dear God! You poor thing! To have such fantastical things before you, to go to someone else's hands!" He starts to chuckle, dropping the act. "I've found some interesting things at thrift stores in the past, myself. I might stop by there, if you don't think that would be inappropriate."

Fee's mention of matching the strobe lights gets a smirk. "That could be a cheap way of setting up mood lighting, though," he suggests. "Make sure you get good and full of sunlight, then put you behind a rotating filter of different colors and a disco ball." He is kidding, yes, and grins.

Though he blinks as Garrett spills soda down his own front. "Whoops," Carmichael observes, grabbing for some napkins. He's mostly just going to hand them to Garrett, because it doesn't look right for a man to be patting another man's front, no matter what the reason is. Though as Garrett makes ot leave, Carmichael nods. "Take care, Garrett. Sorry about that. I hope it doesn't stain too badly!" No, the spilling wasn't Carmichael's fault, he's more expressing sympathy for it.

"A sketch! An artist?" Fee's grin widens. "I love to support the arts… of course you can draw—-" Blink! Poor Garrett, he's as good at pulling a Fee as Fee is at pulling a Fee!

Ok, that's awful. Basically the poor guy goes and misses his mouth and spills all over himself. This earns a sympathetic — and understanding — look from the girl. "Been there before. Cold water! Wipe with cold water!" She calls after his retreating form, and rubs the back of her neck. A slow, sheepish look back to Carmichael.

"Oh, of course you can stop by! It's a bit of a hole in the wall downtown, but there's good stuff there. The owner is out-to-lunch… but that makes her the very best proprietor for a thrift store! I'm there on Saturdays…. I was earlier, in-fact!" She exclaims, draining the rest of her soda. The chill of the drink, the sugar, and the ramping up of the tunes brings a sparkle to the shifter's blue eyes.

"I think I'm gonna go flail out on the floor a bit. Wanna come out? If you wing-bump anyone, just blame it on me being all elbows with two left feet." Fee offers with a sly — and shy — giggle.

Carmichael smiles. "Sounds like a good idea. On both counts, honestly. And don't worry, you won't be the only one flailing about. I'm not exactly what one would call a great dancer myself." He chuckles. "So, let's go flailing, milady!" He stands — careful not to make that weird fart sound that leather pants make all too easily — and offers a hand. There's going to be so many feathers…

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