Xaviers!

The dress threatens to rip at the seams, just for a moment, as Miriam pulls. Will collapsed into her, just for a moment crashing with all her weight into Miriam's frame, before the weight was lifted, wrapping around her shoulders in satiny smooth perfection.

The red shawl contrasted nicely with her black dress and pale skin; the fine green stitching on the inlaid pattern being the tip as to the designer. It smelled faintly of Will's perfume.

Miriam, using the stir their little stunt caused in the crowd, moves off the dancefloor with a very self-satisfied smirk on her face and heads towards the bar.

"About time I had a drink or two anyway. And your color game is on point." she adds, tugging the shawl a little tighter around herself.

Miriam orders two generous shots of Tequila. Getting the bartender's attention is easy enough if you have cleavage and also telepathy to reinforce the demand for attention. She knocks down one shot herself and then twirls the end of her shawl around a finger before letting it dip into the other shot glass.

"You're low-key quite the renaissance substance, aren't you?"

It took a moment or two, but the shawl did eventually concede to absorbing some of the tequila.

Just experienced, that's all. And a quick study. I'm an actor, and a student of Stanislavski -- very method. A bit old fashioned, I know, but the more you commit, the truer your performance is.

And the more you've experienced, the more tools you have to bring to any situation. And so, I've done quite a few things in my time.

"Come on, I'm not going to get drunk from this, but I can at least live vicariously through your alcohol-muddled thoughts and share in the intoxication." she thinks at Will as she gestures for another shot for herself.

I'm not entirely sure a shawl can get drunk, Miriam, but I suppose I can give it my best shot, Will joked, absorbing more of the Tequila.

Oh, it's the latter, most definitely, Will thought, absorbing the third shot of Tequila. Whenever something is done to me in one form or another, it has to try to translate itself metaphorically when I shift -- actions have consequences; it just differs what the consequence is

"Not much reference or room for interpretation for a drunken shawl, huh. That's fair."

With a glance the person on the barstool next to her decides it's time to go dancing again and Miriam unfurls the shawl from around herself and twirls it into a neat spiral on the seat next to her.

There's a large shadow up on the suspended catwalk that rings the venue, on a level with the cages.

As the shawl spirals, the seat spun, and Will spun with it as she returned to eye-candy form.

She was definitely at least a little soused at the moment; her cheeks flushed. Her dress was also a little damp with alcohol, as if someone had spilled tequila on her -- which, after a fashion, Miriam had.

Miriam doesn't seem to notice the shadow above, both her eyes and mind are much to focused on the tipsy Will slowly spinning in her seat, soaking in the alcohol in her own way.

"God, a nice carefree happy drunk, I needed that." she says, closing her eyes for a moment and letting out a content sigh.

"All y' really need," Will said, with the confidence that alcohol brings, "is like one of those air fresheners; except for the mind."

"That is what you are right now!" she laughs. "New Head smell, but with more Tequila!'

"Yeah, just gotta get your stanky-ass depressed mind cleaned out ev'ry now and then by the experts," she nodded, mock-seriously. "Keep you in a good mood so you don't go all creature of the night on us."

As they're talking, a long black feather flutters down from the rafters, landing in Will's lap.

Will cocked her head to her side, examining the feather. This should probably mean something to her. The problem was, Miriam had miscalculated -- three shots of tequila weren't a ton for a person, but the mass-ratio to a scarf was pretty wild, so she wasn't quite all there.

Shrugging, she placed the feather in her hair as a decoration.

"Okay, getting a bit too real there on your honesty. How drunk are you already?" she chuckles. "And what's with the feather?"

"Juuust a skoash," Will said, holding her fingers very close together to demonstrate a small amount. "I'll be alright, do not worry.


And this? It came from up there," Will said pointing almost, but not quite, straight up.

"Up where?" she cranes her neck, trying to follow Will's pointing. Probably just a piece of decoration or part of someone's outfit that got knocked loose. But then why does she have this niggling feeling in the back of her head?

There's a bit of movement up there, though it's hard to see it through the lights. Just a large silhouette she can barely make out before it's gone.

"You're drunk!" Miriam laughs when she doesn't really spot anything but shadows moving from the lights in the club.

"Well, duh," Will laughed. "What did you THINK would happen?"

"Right, yeah, no but I can feel it. It's working." she says tilting her head back slightly and waving it back and forth to the music pulsing through the room.

"Glad I could be of service," she smirked.

"Hey, listen... if ol' Sammy-cakes is keeping an eye on you..." she says, flicking the feather in Will's hair. "Why don't we give her a show on the dance-floor, yeah?" she says, sweeping her hand out towards the crowd.

She's definitely feeling those tequila shots, she's relaxed. But perhaps more notably she's being much less restrained or concerned about her powers. The general throng of people is making a very distinct passage towards an open spot on the dance-floor, occasionally stepping into or through the corridor, but subconsciously avoiding spending too much time in it.

"You're bleeding into the crowd, Miriam," Will whispered. "Be a lil' bit careful."

"I'm just making some room. It's fine. Come on." she says, hopping off her barstool.

Will followed along, looking just a tad concerned, and more than a tad drunk.

"I'm being careful, don't be so concerned!" she says as she pulls Will into a spin as the music fades into another fast, bass-heavy song. The 'channel' does close behind them and the crowd closes back in around them, although their eyes do seem to linger on the two of them dancing more than they should, creating a different kind of center-space with the two of them in it.

The music seemed to overwrite any of Will's concerns, as the two danced the night away in the center of the floor.

And as the two let themselves get swept up in the music the people around them do as well. It's hard to notice at first, it's a dance-club after all and most people here are some degree of drunk, but people crowd around them without ever bumping into them or getting in the way, moving almost as an extension of Miriam's dancing, feet gliding across the beautiful marbled floor that has taken over the dance floor as long black diaphanous curtains uncurl from above, creating a dizzying, flowing maze around the dancers caught in Miriam's sphere of influence, intoxicated mind having become intoxicating itself.

"Miriam," Will whispered. "You're draining out again. Focus on me; drain it into me."

"Shhh." Miriam says, placing her index finger on Will's lips. "S'not doing any harm..."

"Miriam" Will said, adding some deep rumbling to her voice. "You're not doing this intentionally.

I've agreed to be fucked with; these people haven't. You wanted to be in control? Then show me you can be in control."

"I wanted to be drunk and I am. It's a dance-club, nobody's here to think clearly, what's the big deal?"

"This is why I can't have nice things," Will mumbled, as she stepped back from Miriam's grip.

"C'mon. Let's go home, Miriam," she said, a bit louder.

"What? No, everything's fine! We were having fun! Everyone was having fun!" she says and as she gets a bit more agitated here and there a face in the crowd turns to look not just at the scene that's developing but at Will specifically, mirroring Miriam.

"Look around you, Miriam. Look what people are doing," Will said, crossing her arms.