The Vodka Room

April 12, 2015:

Quicksilver, Meggan and Kitty take on the Vodka Room in an NYC club

Mehanata

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions:

Mood Music: Russian Club Music


Fade In…

It's not often that teachers of Xavier's go out into the city on their night's off. However, there was an evening promised that must be scene. A bar in the lower east side boasts a room where no one can take more than six shots of vodka in the time allotted - which amounts to about twenty minutes. It is called the Ice Room where people dress in Soviet era clothing and then take shots of vodka. It's somewhat of a tourist attraction.

Much like many of the LES bars, it is mostly located underground. The music is European - almost trance - and the liquor is cheap and no one asks where they get it. Downstairs, Kitty is looking at the ice room. Much like other New Yorkers, she has never really done many toursity things. Dressed out for the evening, she is wearing leggings and a top, her hair pulled back. Lockheed has taken the night off.
Though she already has a drink involving vodka of some sort, she turns to the man who she is out with. "They say you need at least three people," she tells him, eyebrows raising. "They won't do it for a pair." She grins, mischievous. "What'dya think? Ice room? We can think of it as the Danger Room. Just with more alcohol and danger. Think we can find someone else?"

All of the faux Soviet-ness is amusing the hell out of Pietro. He's grinning wide and peering around. "You…do realize I'm from a former Soviet bloc country, right? None of this is exactly a novelty for me."
His silver hair is pulled back into a ponytail. He's wearing a pair of silver threaded skinny jeans, and a black v-neck t-shirt. He's also wearing bike gloves and has a bracelet made of a bike chain on one wrist, and an oversized neon watch on the other. Add to that a pair of silver wing tips and he fits right in to an overly-trendy New York bar.

Meggan had slipped off to use the washroom briefly and is returning with a fresh beer, which she typically favors on these occasions. It is only her second, but she's already gotten enthusiastic, the ambient environment of the bar apparently appealing to her sense of self quite wonderfully. She's practically glowing! (Yes, it is a metaphor for now.)
"Oh, the ice room??" she says over a particularly deep beat. "How wonderful!" She takes a healthy pull from her beer before saying to Pietro, "What was that about novelties??"

"Oh, are you," Kitty tells Pietro with a studied grin. It's as if she's teasing him. Of course, it's very very possible that she is. "So, how does this measure up to you?" Still teasing.
As Meggan returns from the washroom, Kitty laughs. "Yes! We're debating doing it. Are you in? Pietro's in." Is he? She doesn't know, she's just signed him up for it because she wants to. "We can't be less than three people. And this place seems ripe for showing everyone just how much vodka we can endure."

Taking another long pull of her mixed drink, she points at the costumes that are somewhat to the side. "I totally call that fur-lined jacket though. That's mine."

Quicksilver murmurs something in a language that definitely sounds Slavic. Then he swallows an overlarge mouthful of beer. Yes, steadying nerves in preparation for drinking alcohol by…drinking alcohol. That's a very smart idea. "I bet the vodka is shit!" he declares, but he does so with a grin. "Do you know what's really good? You take a shot of good vodka an you put it in a cocktail shaker with ice, with some lemon. Then you…" he moves his hand up and down. "…And then you shoot that shit."
He squints over at the costume rack. "Those uniforms are all wrong. There's like, patches from one country and colours from another." Don't bring the actual Soviet to the faux-Soviet bar. He'll take all the fun out of it. He thumbs towards Meggan. "You should get the big furry hat."

"This sounds like a wonderful idea," Meggan states, before looking at the outfits. "Hm! Well I mean I don't really need anything… the hat looks cute though."
Her eyes cut back to Pietro. "What do they call that?" she asks, eyes widening slightly in anticipation.

Kitty very deliberately brought Quicksilver and Meggan to the Soviet bar. It's an evening of make believe and silly fun. They can all have a few drinks and drunkenly discuss a dead conflict. All of these things sound like fun to Kitty.

"Oh, do you think they'll have lemons in the Ice Room? We should ask for lemons!" One hand raises up in defiance and determination. It's possibly that Kitty Pryde does not exactly hold her liquor well. "Well, we're up next. So, let's get ready. And ask for lemons. The lemons may be important." To Meggan, she reaches a hand out and grabs her arm. She whispers, with a grin, "You wear the hat and I will wear the jacket. We'll make Pietro just wear his own clothing and drink most of the vodka. It'll be fantastic."

"I don't know." Pietro's eyebrows arch together. "We just called it lemon and vodka. It probably had a special name, but we mostly drank in makeshift bars. Not places like this with fancy names for things." IN SOVIET TRANSIA…something something.
"All right, come on. Let's be dorks. It's such a hardship to go and do shots with hot girls in costumes. SO HARD." Cue dramatic faux-sigh and hands tossed up in the air.
For the hell of it, he sidles up to the guy working the door and speaks his native tongue. Imagine his surprise when the bouncer widens his eyes and speaks back to him in Transian. What follows is a rapid-fire conversation that involves lots of hand gestures and gutteral sounds. Then he motions to Meggan and Kitty. "Girls, this is my new friend Tomas. He's going to take care of us. Come on!"
The bartender winks at them and then pushes open the door while waving off any attempt to pay.

Meggan's lips purse as if she's already tasting the lemon. An arm on her own and she is given her SECRET ORDERS from KOMMISSAR KITTY, nodding firmly in reply and then looking at Pietro once more. She seems vaguely sad when she discovers this shot has no name. When he moves forwards to talk to the bartender, Meggan leans over to side-whisper to Kitty, "Wouldn't they freeze up, though?" even as she dons the hat.
But then.

A new day rises. A /red/ day. A /red dawn/. "Oo!" And in she goes, impulsively leaning up to peck Tomas on the cheek on her way in, hatless alone! (Curiously enough she is in blue jeans and a T-shirt for some obscure band, possibly inherited from another student, rather than her fancy costume. Still no shoes, tho.)

"Well!" Kitty laughs and grins at Pietro, "You should certainly learn the name!" Of course, she's teasing. It's something that she does. "I mean, this place isn't really that fancy. I just thought you'd all get a kick out of the vodka room and dressing up in coats and hats!" Because, clearly, that is certainly something that Kitty gets a kick out of.

With a wide hug given to Tomas right after Meggan kisses him on the cheek the man in charge of the Ice Room must seriously love Pietro and Meggan and Kitty. Her own borrowed jacket is pulled around her shoulders.

"If we speak in very stereotypical and horribly Soviet accents, Pietro during our time in the cold will you be offended?" She grins at Meggan as she says it, but she will certainly respect his answer.

"Horribly, horribly offended. I might drink all your vodka," Pietro winks and holds open the door. He pats Tomas on the shoulder.
For a bouncer who gets flirted with a lot, their gratitude nonetheless makes Tomas blush. He murmurs something to Pietro as they pass through, which probably is along the lines of 'get in there quick before my boss realizes you didn't pay.'
Pietro pauses a moment to ask a question of his new friend before he bounds into the room after the two of them. "Lemon drop. That's what he says it's called."

"I'm not sure I could speak in a stereotypical accent," Meggan says, the cold only affecting her in trivial ways. She adjusts her hat, before declaring, "Lemon drop! Then I'll have one, and I hope you'll both join me. How many drinks are we aiming to have, Kitty…?"

As the trio steps into the Ice Room, Kitty grins. "Vell, in that case," she says, already speaking in a typically horrible Russian accent.
"Lemon drop, then!" The phaser pulls the ice cubes that are in the shape of ice glasses and puts them on the glass table in front of them. It's freezing inside, kept at a temperature to ensure that the ice cubes don't melt and the vodka is harder to swallow.

"As many as is allowed in communism," she grins at Meggan. "Honestly, I never thought we'd get this far, so just drink the shots as they come!"

There are multiple bottles of different brands of vodka behind them. Kitty picks one that she knows to be non-offensive and pours them across the shot glasses. "Okay go!"

Before the word 'go' is even past Kitty's lips, Pietro's shot glass of ice is empty. Then another. And…well, then his ice glass breaks from all the speed. Oops. He looks sheepish and…a little flushed, both from the cold and from…however many shots he just took in the space of a few seconds.
He yells something in Transian that is clearly the equivalent of 'cheers,' then grabs for another bottle and this time pours it in real time. He fishes around for lemon and haphazardly squirts it into the shot glasses too. Not…exactly proper Lemon Drops, but who the hell cares? He lifts the glass to cheers, then shoots it back like a champ. His countrymen would be proud.

Meggan downs the shot with energy and vim. She doesn't mind the ice glass either! (Kitty is familiar with this Meggan Fact; it may marginally surprise Pietro.)
When Pietro starts busting out more, and lemon sprays around, Meggan giggles. "So," she says then, to Kitty perhaps but Pietro and possibly neighbors as well, "Did I tell you about what happened at the Battery the other afternoon?"

As soon as Kitty says go, she can't help give something like a belly laugh when the shot is already gone from Quicksilver's shot glass and Meggan has down hers before Kitty has even gotten a chance to do much else but put an extra bottle down. Meaning to catch up, she quickly takes the shot of vodka, pouring for those who need it before taking another. "You did not!" she tells Meggan as she takes another shot. When better to talk shop than when in a room filled with ice and they're taking shots of vodka? Kitty can't think of a better place. All X-Men meeting should happen here.

The meetings would certainly be a lot more fun. And it would build team spirit. Nothing builds a team like holding each others' hair back while vomiting occurs. "Hold on, hold on, hold on. Stop with this Smirnoff shit." Pietro searches around and pushes aside bottles until he finds one with only Russian on the label. "Oh yes, here we go. This one needs nothing." He finds another ice shot glass to replace his broken one, then splashes a generous amount in each of theirs. He lifts up the shot and then drinks this one more slowly. He smiles big. "Oh yes. That's…this…" he points to the bottle. "…is correct." His English, it seems, fades a bit in the face of multiple shots. He is right, though. The vodka is smooth as silk with only a very pleasant, warm burn rather than something harsh. If Meggan wants to tell her story, she'll have to tell it with no further prompting from him. He's not meaning to be rude, but…vodka!

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