Going to party like it's 1999!

[Nightingale]

"Big - black - boots! Long - brown - hair! She's so sweet with her - get-back stare!" Angie sang (not particularly well) along with the music that Gill had ever-so-kindly agreed to broadcast into the kitchen for her as she iced the cake.

Because even though she hadn't told everyone, she wasn't letting her eighteenth birthday pass without doing something to mark it. Upon waking up she'd had emails from Read, Nat and, surprisingly enough, her dad - and Read's had contained the playlist of party songs that was currently blaring over the loudspeaker in the kitchen.

"But you were with another man, yeah!" The last of the chocolate icing spread nice and smooth over the cake - mud, she was really going all out - and Angie put the spatula down with a grin. She did a quick tidy up, checked on dinner (marinated chicken with rice, because she wanted to eat what SHE wanted to eat tonight, and everybody else could just deal with it) and was just getting herself a glass of water when the next song finished and Gill's Caribbean accent came over the loudspeaker.

"Happy birthday, Angie." She didn't know that he'd projected that particular sentence through the entire base, otherwise she probably wouldn't have been smiling so broadly when she gave the camera over the door a thumbs up and mouthed 'Thanks'.

The music came back on, and she started singing along again as she dished out dinner. Gill, who must have set off immediately after his little announcement, was the first to arrive, and he slid a bag across the table as she set down a bowl for him.

"Aw, thanks Gill." A peek into the bag revealed a video cassette tied with a pink bow - which Angie doubted she'd ever watch, knowing Gill's taste in films - and a bottle of bourbon.

"You're legal back home, yah?"

She gave him a bit of a look. "Legal to drink, yeah." She was not getting into a discussion about the age of consent with the fish-headed perv. No way, no how. To avoid that conversation before it even started, she walked over and hit a small button near the door, her voice ringing out through the base for those who hadn't already started making their way down.

"Dinner's ready, everyone."

Before she took her place at the table, she poured herself a bourbon and coke. What the hell? It was her birthday. She was allowed. And she wanted to have a fun night.

[recluse]

The little blonde girl was having a birthday? Gracie wondered how old she was turning - from the looks of her, something like fifteen or sixteen. Old enough to be corrupted, surely.

Definitely old enough to have a party. Not that having a few drinks and dragging Lucas back to his bedroom was exactly out of the normal for her, but having an actual excuse for it would be fun.

When Angie was announcing dinner, Gracie was already in the hallway, and she wandered into the kitchen just as the healer was sitting down with her bourbon and coke.

"So we're having a party, right?" A beer in one hand and her dinner in the other, Recluse sat down next to Gill and gave the young woman a grin that showed wicked teeth.

"How old are you?" When the mumbled reply of 'eighteen' came, Gracie could only raise an eyebrow. "You're shitting me." Probably not - why would she claim that age if she was actually only fifteen? If you were going to claim to be older and not be able to pass for it, surely you'd go the whole hog and try for 21.

"Well, happy birthday." Another one of those smiles.

"Party, yeah? Party." The decision seemed made. "You can't turn the music up from here can you Gill? I love this song." MXPX - who'd have thought that the little Aussie would have been into them? She looked more like one of those Britney Spears - Ashlee Simpson - Justin Timberlake types. Cute and young and squeaky clean (at least until she got older and turned corrupt like they all had).

[impact]

Lucas wandered down shortly after- short hair wet and black tanktop spotted with water from the shower he'd just taken. His thick arms were bare and he scratched at a bicep as he sat down, beer mirroring Gracie's, plate easily twice as full.

"Eighteen? Shit." He grinned at Angie, that dangerous, flirtatious look in his eye. He could have said more, but he wasn't sure just how protective- or possessive- the fish-headed mutant could be over the girl. Sometimes the youngest were guarded fiercely, even amongst criminals. In fact, most often among them. Maybe it had something to do with baser instincts. Lucas didn't tend to think too much about it.

"Damn. That's not a long time ta learn ta cook as good as you do. Where'd you pick that up?"

[deadman]

The Dead Man had outgrown the need for sustenance when he finally crossed the barrier to Death. As such, when he loped into the kitchen on this occasion, it wasn’t actually for food. It was for celebration. A word ordinarily foreign to the malevolent creature, this particular jubilance was special. Considering all that Angela had done for him, the least he could do was come to her at a time she took pride and pleasure from.

It was what … people… did, right?

As he entered the room, he scanned it for its occupants. Currently only Gill, who gave DM a nod, the new man Lucas, and a rather near-death looking female (insofar as complexion and monotony) sat in addition to Angela. He nodded at the others, and strode inside.

Unlike any other occasions Gill may have been in Dead Man’s presence, this time the walking corpse did not smell foul. In fact, he smelt quite like potpourri. His skin was more pallid than ordinary and new stitches could be seen along his hair line, and peeking out from beneath his collar. He still bore his heavy cane, which thudded on the stone as it met it, and he was still dressed to impress.

Red eyes examined Angie, with surprisingly less callousness and detachment as “normal” for the man, and he handed to her a parcel, wrapped in brown paper and tied with simple string. It could only be a gift.

“For you, Angela. Happy Birthday… and may you have many more, and then ultimately be released into a glorious undeath, treading the Earth in a more perfect form.”

[avalanche]

Dominic had not wanted to interrupt John with his new plan, and had decided to wait on it for a more opportune time to discuss it. He figured the flame-master may take some persuading when it came to asking for permanent alterations to the base – even if Dom was willing to do all the work.

So he’d settled for staying in the room given to him for a while, though he planned and designed the superior room he was waiting to add. Then the announcement was made that it was Angie’s birthday, and he flew himself into frenzy. If only he had been forewarned! Now he’d look like a jerk, showing up with no gift! Given proper time he could have thrown her an excellent party, could have catered it to suit, and would have made such a celebration as to awaken the island from its eternal blandness.

Alas, however, he had just enough time to get dressed in his best, and to put together a little something… it wasn’t much, and it was somewhat hasty, but it put his powers – and his talents – to the test. He was happy with the results, and after pulling together a makeshift gift-wrap, he went to the kitchen.

Dead Man was handing his gift to Angie, so Dom didn’t want to interfere. Instead he slipped in, and gave Recluse and Lucas a grin. He took a seat near them.

[Nightingale]

"For you, Angela. Happy Birthday… and may you have many more, and then ultimately be released into a glorious undeath, treading the Earth in a more perfect form."

OK, so that was the creepiest thing she'd ever heard. But she smiled anyway as she accepted the gift, absolutely refusing to lean over and give him a kiss on his cold, dead cheek. Even though that was the polite thing to do, bringing her lips anywhere near Dead Man was just... ugh.

"Thanks, Dead Man." Also, referring to him just as Dead Man? Kinda felt weird as she opened the package and peeked inside. She had absolutely no idea what to expect from him, although when she did see what it was, she realised that she should have known. A spatter of blood on a pre-engraved wedding ring ('Russel and Julia, 2-28-03') in amongst a pile of other assorted goods told her that he'd looted the animates... But it was a sweet thought anyway, as sweet as she'd really have been able to expect from Dead Man. She put the package in her gift bag from Gill, vowing to sort through it more thoroughly later and see if there was anything that should be returned to the widows or something before sliding back into her seat.

"Um, my mum was never at home - she's a doctor. So it was learn to cook or starve." She finally got to answer Lucas' question, and her smile swept over all three of the newcomers sitting opposite her. The only one missing was Roy, but Angie didn't know whether he'd known the others before joining up or not. "She wanted me to be a doctor like her, but I always thought it would have been nice to be a chef. Hey, Dom."

With another small smile, she went back to her dinner and her drink.

[avalanche]

Dom smiled, and nodded again at Angie. "Hey Angie. I, uh, brought you a present. I didnt' really know beforehand, sooo I'm sorry it's not more awesome or whatever."

He sat down his gift, which made something of a clunk on the table. It was about a quarter of a meter tall and seemed to be heavy as he slid it over to her. It was wrapped, neatly, in newspaper - and a make-shift cloth ribbon held it in.

He risked a glance over a the odd gift Dead Man seemed to bring to her, but didn't look up at the spookshow.

[Pyro]

Pyro, in fact, hadn't been seen all morning. Gill knew precisely where he was, of course; as head of base security, he made it his business to know where their young leader was at all times. Presently he was down in the old basement office that had been Magneto's, sitting at the desk, reading a book and shutting himself away from everyone else.

Gill recognised this as a fairly typical behaviour pattern that the young man demonstrated from time to time. Something was bothering him, getting to him, irritating him, making him unhappy - whatever it was, it was something he preferred to keep to himself and deal with in his own way. Apparently, it seemed, his own way in this instance was to remain ensconced in hiding doing one of the things he did best.

Brooding on the matter.

He liked it down here. Down here he felt...not safe, exactly, but certainly more secure than he did upstairs amongst the rest of the Brotherhood. Pyro's natural tendency was to solitude and Magneto's office gave him that in spades. The book he was reading was, unsurprisingly, his old familiar copy of Catch 22, but he seemed to have been spending an inordinate amount of time staring at the fading photographs of his mother rather than reading up on Yossarian's misadventures.

He sighed heavily and put the book down on the desk, leaning back in the chair and closing his eyes. It was cold down here. It had always been cold. But it suited his mood today just fine.

[impact]

Lucas nodded to Angie's answer, and took a long drink of his beer, glancing at Gracie. Damn she was beautiful. It was starting to occur to him that he thought that quite a number of times a day.

The Dead Man joined, and Dom. Lucas held out a hand to shake Dom's and gave him a nod. So far no one had joined them that he hadn't already met. Guess he'd seen them all.

He wondered where Roy and Pyro were. Something told him neither of them could be up to any good. Part of him wished he was with them. Lucas could use a little hellraising.

Focusing on his food, he stayed quiet, emptying a beer and getting up briefly to grab another.

[Nightingale]

"Oh, thanks Dom, you didn't have to..." The young Australian blushed, carefully unwrapping the gift to reveal something that made her absolutely beam a smile at the Greek. He'd obviously made it himself, and though it wasn't perfect, the amount of control it must have taken was astounding.

It was, quite clearly, a statue of her and Mr. Bones walking along the beach.

"It's beautiful, thank you." Still blushing, she leaned across the table to place a very shy kiss on Dom's cheek. Somehow it made her feel rude for not having done the same for Dead Man or Gill, but she wasn't going near the corpse-flesh if she got paid for it (never mind that there'd been plenty of cash on Dead Man's sack of goodies, it still wasn't happening) and it would just be weird to make a point of giving Gill a thank you kiss now.

Her cheeks finally started to return to their normal colour as she went back to her dinner, although she wasn't entirely aware of this thanks to the warmth that was spreading through her with every sip of her bourbon and coke.

"So, um..." Angie obviously hadn't been prepared for Gill's little announcement, and being the centre of attention didn't exactly sit well with her. Though she wasn't cripplingly shy, particularly not around other mutants, it didn't feel so good having everyone look at her.

"Did anyone want a drink?" She wondered where the others were, if they were planning on eating at all. It was odd that Cain was taking so long to arrive - normally he was one of the first when there was food on offer. John's absence, on the other hand, was entirely unsurprising, and she wondered if she'd have to take his dinner to him again.

[avalanche]

“awww, it's nothin' really.” Dom replied, a smile on his face which only grew more prominent as she kissed his cheek. “It's your birthday, ya know, and how many people do we really have on this island to help you make it special?”

As she returned to her drink, he ventured a wink to Lucas and then stood half up, looking at what was for dinner. He wondered what was in the marinade on the chicken, but could tell it would be tasty. He supposed it'd be pushing it to ask what was in the stuff... he'd already put forth an awful amount of demasculating behavior in front of Recluse and Lucas. It was a wonder they didn't rag him more about it.

So he slid up and went over to where dinner was, preparing to make himself a plate. He looked back over his shoulder at Angie when she asked if anyone wanted a drink.

“I'll take a drink if ya don't mind. Anyone else want any of this awesome rice and chicken?”

[recluse]

Awww.

Well wasn't that just the cutest thing in the whole wide world? The way Angie blushed when she brushed her lips over Dom's cheek, the way Dom smiled... It might have been enough to make Gracie forget how much of a girl Dom had started turning into when they'd walked into the upscale clothing store - except that had kinda stuck in her mind.

Also, didn't Angie have issues with touching people? Not being able to have skin contact would make for interesting sex. The dark haired mutant's mind was only shaken from it's rather creative thought when Dom spoke again, and she shook her head in response.

"No, I'm all good. Thanks."

Small group. Where was everybody? Maybe they were all doing a Dom and trying to find (or make) something to give the little Australian - which made Gracie think that she could maybe make the kid something later. She'd ask Angie what she wanted later. For now, she was thinking that if the rest of them didn't want their dinner, they could just deal with walking into a party when the did come to find it later.

"Hey Gill, can you turn the music up from here?" The half-fish paused mid-bite and shook his head.

"I'll go do it once I'm finished." It still felt weird to her, listening to the words come out of the wide mouth of an oversized goldfish. But whatever. She could make web with a thought, so she wasn't exactly one to talk.

[Jane]

When Jane had turned 18, she'd gotten porn and cigarettes for her birthday. It had been kind of a tradition where she was at that point - had she been in Chicago then? Yes - a month so far in Chicago, several months after she'd left Kentucky. Chicago had been a weird town. Weird enough to give a girl porn on her 18th.

Somehow, she doubted the same thing would probably be either appropriate or welcome to Angie, since she herself hadn't appreciated it in the same position. But other than that, she was kind of stumped. Condoms flashed through her head briefly before being put in the same "inappropriate and utterly weird" box. Alcohol wasn't okay yet - oh, except she was Australian, so it would be. But if she tried to make even the worst fruit-based brandy in the universe she'd be loopy for hours from the strain of fermentation, and she didn't want to ruin Angie's party and further alienate herself from the others on the island, who she'd realized she'd been subconsciously avoiding since Baltimore.

But that still left her with a conundrum as far as Angie's present. Because, she knew, you couldn't show up to a party without some sort of present. It would be odd. But what could she even do on such short notice?

Well... she wasn't sure if it was legal in Australia. But it was legal in some places at 18, right? Denver? And she could do it at short notice...

A few minutes later, Jane had wrapped up her gift in a cigar box, though with the addition of a little necklace, a pink quartz rose on a silver chain, that had always clashed with her skin just in case it was odd to give a girl a huge box of pot. (It was really nice pot, she reminded herself.) She knew she was already late, so she tried to be unobtrusive as she appeared in the doorway.

She didn't know most of these people.

Awesome. How long had she been hiding out?

"Hey," she said to Angie, trying to be brave and face the world again, which was harder than it once had been. "Happy birthday, hon.

[Nightingale]

Onto her second drink already, Angie had been about to wander down to find Pyro and make him come have something to eat (because she wasn't going to let him hide all night on her birthday, it just wasn't on) when Jane walked in and wished her a happy birthday. It had been a while since she'd seen the once-green woman, and she gave her a beaming smile when she accepted the cigar box, brushing an extremely gentle kiss over Jane's fragile cheek.

What she found surprised her, to say the least.

"Wow. Thanks." Yeah, so it did seem a little weird to find a rose quartz necklace nestled on a bed of the most pungent smelling weed that she'd ever come across. Not that Angie had really had too many encounters with drugs of any sort, but... Wow. Pungent.

The smell lingered on the stone that she immediately hung around her neck, and she placed the box in the centre of the table as a very strange replacement for finger foods. But whatever.

"I... yeah. Wow. Um, I'll be right back." Maybe once she got back someone would have started and Angie wouldn't have felt quite so overwhelmed at the whole 'Look, a giant box of weed.' thing.

A few minutes later, she was wandering down a set of stairs that she'd never taken before, calling out tentatively, "Dinner's ready. Everyone's getting together, you should come have a bite of something." Then she took another sip of her drink and wandered further down into what had apparently been Magneto's sanctum, feeling a sneaking suspicion that she'd made a good start on the getting drunk thing. Not to mention feeling that it really wasn't the kind of place she wanted to be for long. Though the bourbon warmed her up a little, the young Australian couldn't help but notice the cold.

"Wow. Magneto was a really cheerful guy, wasn't he?" It took her a moment to realise that she'd spoken aloud, and her smile was slightly embarrassed. Cadbury. A glass and a half... all it takes.

[Pyro]

He'd sat up on hearing her feet on the stairs, feeling momentarily enraged that anybody had dared to violate this precious place. He had, without really realising it, turned it into something of a slightly obsessive shrine. Newspaper cuttings littered the desk, all about Alcatraz, all about Liberty Island...all about Magneto's known life.

When he saw it was Angie, however, the anger dissipated and he gave her an almost weary smile. "He didn't have a lot to be cheerful about for a lot of his life," was his simple answer. "And given that he could manipulate metal - well, this place was just right for him." He got to his feet. "Dinner time? Already? Wow. The day just flew by." How long had he been down here? Hours, it seemed, without even noticing time go by. And the entire time had been spent in dark, broody thoughts.

If everyone was getting together, he really ought to make the effort to put in an appearance. So Gill had told him the previous evening in a rare conversation the two had had. Python was not presently on the island and so Gill had automatically filled that gap left by him and taken it on himself to try talking some sense into Pyro who he had observed starting to slide into melancholy.

Pyro hadn't really appreciated it in all honesty. He knew so little about Gill really that it sometimes irritated him that the fish-headed mutant knew so much about him. But he was right. It was Angie's birthday. It wouldn't hurt him to make an effort. After all, his past two birthdays had gone by unobserved. "I kind of like coming down here," he said, feeling a strange need to justify himself. "It's a good place to do thinking."

He gave her a smile.

"So. Your birthday, huh? I...got you something, but it's not much."

Looking around the desk, he spied what he was looking for. "I think, or at least hope you understand the significance of this," he said, softly, and he picked up the last thing she had expected him to give her.

His old, battered copy of Catch-22.

"Hope you don't mind, but I took my mother's photographs out the back," he said, softly.

[Nightingale]

It really was the last thing she'd have ever expected him to give her. Truth be told, Angie hadn't expected that Pyro would have known it was her birthday, let alone thought to give her something so... So special. Yes, she knew the significance, understood what a gesture it was for him to part with it. There were actually tears in her eyes as she placed both her drink and the book very carefully down on the desk, then threw her arms around his neck.

"Thank you." She didn't know what else to say. She didn't know what else she could say... And god, she'd thought that she was doing something to get rid of her feelings for him, and then he went and did something so stupidly sweet that it made her realise that everything she'd tried had failed absolutely.

For someone who had been planning on an unremarkable eighteenth, she'd ended up being... well, spoiled. But this - this was the sweetest thing that anyone had ever done for her, and Angie found herself squeezing him tighter as a substitute for what she really wanted to do.

She couldn't kiss him. It wouldn't be right, and besides - she'd been burned before when she'd told him how she felt. So Angie just held John close and buried her face in his neck, wishing that she had some way of telling him just how much she appreciated it but not really knowing the words.

"Thank you."

[Pyro]

Pyro was actually glad she had hugged him. He had been feeling lonely and angry at himself for feeling that way, and the warmth of her body against his took away some of the ice that he had formed around his emotions. "You're welcome," he said, very, very carefully allowing his cheek to press against hers. "C'mon, let's go see what damage those locusts have done to the food."

Having so said, he tipped his head at her and invoked his cheekiest grin. There was no need to inflict his miserable mood on Angie; it was obvious even to Pyro that she had already been on the alcohol - and rightly so. It was her birthday, she was entitled to a bit of R & R.

He led her out of the sanctum and put the padlock back on the door, slipping the key into the pocket of his combats and patting it. "Let's go be sociable," he said, rather pleasantly surprised to discover he was actually hungry for once.

[Nightingale]

The smile that Angie gave John in return was almost ridiculously happy. "I just want to put Catch-22 in my room."

Yeah, did making John take a detour past her room totally bring opportunities to mind for anyone but her? Probably not. But whatever.

With Catch-22 tucked carefully under her arm, and her bourbon and coke growing smaller by the minute, Angie led Pyro to her room to make sure that the book would be safe. Yes, it was old and battered - but she'd already lost it once, and it had only come back to him by some miracle. She certainly wasn't going to lose it again.

"Thanks again, Pyro," the young Australian said as she pulled the door closed. "I really... Yeah. I don't have the words. I know how much it means to you..."

God she wanted to kiss him. Was practically aching for him. But she just gave him a shaky smile and reached out to hook her arm into his.

"Being sociable sounds good. Even Jane's emerged. And Gill gave me bourbon and you should have some because I don't want to drink it all on my own and..." Yep, she was well on her way to being drunk. If she wasn't already there.

"Yeah. Sociable. Good. I made chicken. Marinated chicken. And there's cake, mud cake, it should be good." She stopped him in the hallway before they reached the kitchen and the large sitting area that most of the rest of the Brotherhood were currently occupying.

No, wait, kissing him was a bad idea, wasn't it. So Angie just offered him a half smile and drained the rest of her bourbon and coke. Also? Holding his hand, that was an equally bad idea. So she left her arm where it was and tugged him into the kitchen where everyone else was sitting.

"I think I need another drink."

[Pyro]

He couldn't help but be caught up by her mood, and actively welcomed it, too. It chased away some of the unhappiness that had been plaguing him for a couple of days and that could only be a good thing. "Bourbon, huh? Certainly seems to be having a good effect on you."

John ruffled her hair playfully as they entered the kitchen, arm in arm. She hadn't been exaggerating. Everyone was there. He let his eyes roam around the assembled masses, almost doing a mental registration. No, not everyone - Dharma hadn't arrived yet and there was a large space that was where Cain should have been.

"Hi," he said, almost bewildered at such a social gathering of what were, by nature, inherently solitary people. "Looks like everyone who's anyone is out at this glittering, papparazi-filled night of a thousand stars."

He gave a huge grin and let his unhappiness squirrel its way to the back of his mind. He suspected that it might return later, when he was alone again, but for now at least, it cost him nothing to be pleasant.

[deadpool]

“And that includes me!” Deadpool said, popping through the door. “You can't have a who's who of the mutant world without the Merc with a mouth, Deadpool, and his lovely intern, Mercy.”

Sure enough the black and red leather clad, weapons covered mercenary was immediately followed by the smaller girl with a big jacket on.

Deadpool went to say something more, but then his eyes caught Gill. “Holy shit, Gill!” He laughed. “So this is where you've been all these years. You know, doesn't surprise me.”

For his part, Gill just rolled his eyes with a sort of half-groan, and continued eating.

“Let me tell you something, Pyro.” Deadpool said to the young leader. “Gill here is the best information man... fish.... fish man... you could EVER ask for. Top notch.”

Deadpool's squinty eyes implied his smile, up until he noticed Dead Man standing next to him and then he started. “Eeek!” He looked closer at the walking corpse, and shudder. “Blegh.”