It wasn't often she did something like this for herself, treat herself or the like. It felt, well, awkward, rewarding herself for anything. Wasn't a reward something someone else gave you for doing something you didn't necessarily think was all that important...or did...or whatever. Either way, she needed something like this, a chance to be herself and all that jazz. When was the last time she used her powers in public like this? It might have been years, or it might have only felt like that. Either way, making her drink dance in front of her was probably the most therapeutic thing she'd done ever.

Her hair, fiery red and falling to the middle of her back, was down for once, brushing over her pale, freckled shoulders, which peeked out from just over the off shoulder sleeves of her black top, one slender hand toying with the silver hoop that hung off the front of her black choker, while the other flickered her fingers every so often. Just rising out of her glass, her Bud Light had a mind of its own, or at least what her mind had set out for it, the liquid shimmering in the flashing lights of the club, floating in front of her blue eyes. The best part about it all? No one was really weirded out about it. Sure, people looked over once in a while, but other than that, just curiosity. No malice, disgust...it was the best thing about 'District X'. No normal people around for miles. Her glossed lips curled up in a smile as the drink drew itself closer to her, allowing her to take a good sip from it before she allowed it to flow back down into the glass. She smacked her lips together with a little bit of a smirk at the taste of alcohol on her lips.

"It even tastes better," She found herself commenting with a small chuckle before turning around in her seat, leaning back against the bar as she watched everyone out on the floor, just dancing and having a good time.

She felt the itch to dance, her boot clad foot bouncing up and down in time to the music, as her leg hooked itself over the ripped knee of the opposite leg, but she figured she couldn't just go dance without a reason to do so. Say, a guy would be a good reason. Riley snorted to herself, puffing some of her red hair from her freckled face as she laughed a little at the idea. Out of all the girls in the room, she really doubted she'd be sought out specifically for a dance. That was just fine too, she'd always been okay with just watching.

John walked into this place thinking "it's about bloody time." John had spent the past several hours searching for a pub... but all of them full of people that were closed minded. Not that his powers told him this... he could just see it. In his mind, most non mutants... or even able bodied people were very self centered, and could not see the bigger picture, perhaps this place would be different.

John walked over to the bar, getting a few strange looks from other people inside but they probably realized he had to be a mutant... or else they more then likely would have mugged him before he reached the door. As John reached the bar, he noticed a young lady with Irish red hair, watching the dance floor, noticing that she was probably wanting to go onto the floor herself. Unfortunately, John was never able to dance very well, but he didn't like to drink alone, so he took a seat himself. Maybe being in here, could help him relax.

John quickly ordered a scotch with coke, and began his rather impromtu conversation. "Evening" he said with a smile. "You look a little tranced with the dance floor. I don't know how to dance very well I'm affraid, but may I buy you another drink?"

"Evening"

Riley was startled from her thoughts, not having previously noticed him sit down beside her, nor heard him order his drink. She needed to get out of that habit, that habit being tuning out the people around her. In this day and age, it wasn't safe for someone like her, even if she was among other mutants. It didn't mean that all mutants were friendly.

"Evenin' t'you as well," She replied with a cool smile, her accent peaking out smoothly through her speech as she leaned back to look at him, pale eyes intent on him. He didn't seem bad; he was an older gentleman, kind eyes...but looks could be deceiving after all.

"You look a little tranced with the dance floor. I don't know how to dance very well I'm afraid, but may I buy you another drink?"

The slightest quirk of a grin crossed her glossed lips; men offering her drinks wasn't something that she wasn't used to. She wondered if the fact that she was aware that she was attractive was a bad thing. Either way, it didn't stop her from using it to her advantage. Maybe at one time, when she was younger and more standoffish, but she figured she might as well use the gifts God gave her, and that didn't just stop at her mutation.

"Y' certainly may," She grinned just a little bit more and turned to face him; it'd be rude if she didn't, right? "Thank y', uh...what'd y' say y' name was again? Mine's Riley."

Mutant Town was so far, everything he'd heard it to be. Most nights, if he hadn't been for the most part invulnerable, he would have felt in danger of being mugged. The upside to this was that if he ever really wanted to fall off the wagon, doing it here would be easy. He'd set himself up in some cheapo motel room. the kind of place that had those little plastic flamingos littering the lawn, cheap beach chairs around the pool outback, and the heart shaped bed with the cheap 'silk' sheets and a jacuzzi in the floor. But damn, did the bars have some fantastic scenery.


The fiery looking red head in the grunge jeans and the cute boots was the only one on the floor it seemed. He loved those kinds of girls. The kind that danced no matter where they were, no matter who was watching. And of course, she had to be talking to the one guy who didn't look like he belonged in any sort of bar ever. Probably enjoyed a nice martini with his Kobe beef and Yukon Gold medallions while looking over stock indexes. It may have been the accent, but something about her coy attitude and the way her lips twinged in to a slight smile when she spoke was relatively enticing. Not that he could really feel anything. Four days up, and the bourbon on the rocks didn't even have a taste to it. Dark circles were under his eyes as he set the drink down, taking out a pack of cigarettes and his zippo and lighting up. He took a slow drag off the Marlboro, letting it fill his lungs.

The Doc Martens were placed firmly against the support of his bar stool, a pair of black jeans snuggly on his waist as he adjusted the white v-neck, waving the bartender over and passing him a twenty. "Can you do me a favor, and send a shot of Patron over to the girl and her friend over there? You're a life saver."

As John was listening to her speak, he was glad that she was able to feel comfortable talking to him, after all, John was not his usuall tactful self in starting the discussion. "Thank y', uh...what'd y' say y' name was again? Mine's Riley." She said as she turned her head towards him. "Hello Ms. Riley." He said with a warm smile, and just letting his Irish accent pop out. "My name is John, John Terry.

As John turned to the bar, he ordered another beer for the young lady, and turned around again. "Do you come here often to dance? This is my first time here... literally, I've only been in the States for less then a day. He chuckled at that... he was glad he felt he could be truly open with someone. He was intent on making this last.

"Hello Ms. Riley. My name is John, John Terry."

The accent was unmistakable, of course. It was a lot smoother than her own, and not so thick, but it was there. The chances of running into another Irishman were slim to none, so it would be an understatement to say that Riley was simply excited. However, she played it cool and merely widened her smile a bit more, though her pale eyes sparked with that pure giddiness that she felt when he spoke.

"S'pleasure t' meet'cha, Mr. John Terry," She grinned behind her folded hands as she leaned up against the bar. "Wha'sa gentleman like you doin' in a place such's this, if y' don' mind me sayin'?" Well, obviously he was a mutant, or the patrons would have kicked him out on his ass. Still, there was that nice Evolution place; he didn't seem the type of guy that just kicked around the slums.

"Do you come here often to dance? This is my first time here... literally, I've only been in the States for less then a day."

"Ach, no. In fact, I rarely come out a'tall, nowadays. I've only been here a couple months m'self." She replied with a casual shrug, turning her gaze back to the dance floor as she ran a hand through her hair. "S'jus' hard, I guess...but you would know all about tha', eh?" She joked; she figured there wasn't a person alive in here that didn't know. Before she could continue her conversation, however, the bartender came back with, not only her beer, but a shot of Patron for the two of them. Her brow furrowed slightly, and before she could even ask, the bartender responded.

"Compliments of the guy down the row," He motioned to the one sitting at the end of the bar, in his Doc Martens and white V-Neck. Riley looked over toward his way; oh boy, two guys? They seemed friendly enough, but she'd have enough experiences to tell her this wasn't gonna end well. Either way, she smiled sweetly down the way toward the Doc Marten guy and raised her glass, downing the shot in one take with that mischievous glint to her eyes.

This was turning out to be an interesting night.

"Wha'sa gentleman like you doin' in a place such's this, if y' don' mind me sayin'?"

Boy that was a good question, but luckily he had a better answer then just a simple business trip. "I had started out today coming here for a business trip... when I got in a cab, and was recruited for a new business anyway... so I guess it really did turn out to be a business trip, just in a different way." He chuckled at that, unfortunately he lauphed at all his own jokes... even if they weren't funny at all. "Anyway, I wanted to celebrate my new fortune, trying to find a pub out in the city... and unfortunately the pubs here are not like the ones back home, not as friendly. So I heard about this place, and was very excited to find another Irish woman to drink, and talk with."

John smiled warmly, and had thought he was not talking to stupidly. As the beer arrived, another drink arrived as well. A shot of patron, from a guy down the bar. "That was exceptionally kind of him" John thought to himself. "So youv been here for a few months... what drew you here... if I may ask?"

If there was one thing you could learn from being a detective, it was how to read both people, and situations. You had to be able to carry on conversations while watching body movement, inflection, the little things that would let you know when people were lying through their teeth, or when they were over excited. He didn't know quite what the other guy had done or said, but he remembered when he was a kid, his first trip to Disney Land, and the way his eyes had lit up when he saw Mickey. Her reaction was similar to that, though admittedly with less pointing and screaming.

The guy talking to her though wasn't really his concern. If he wanted to get anywhere tonight, he had to play his angles right. Though now he had to figure out was his angle was. The best plan would be to separate her and from what he could read from her lips, Mr. John Terry. He didn't want to compete, because if it came down to who could flash more cash around, until he started his job with Goldman, he wasn't going to be rolling in money. He turned on the stool so that he could lean his back up against the bar, letting the bar tender refill his drink as he took another drag of his Marlboro, as he smirked back at the girl and gave a little wave.