[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/dGFSkqO.png[/img][/center]
[hr]

Nicole had always tried her best never to get sucked away in parties.

After all, she wasn't a stranger to them. Hasta was renowned around the world for its freewheeling nightlife, for the garrisons of arcades, dive bars and dance clubs where the only answer for the sound of rolling thunder and the hiss of rain on the street lights was rolling bass and hissing synths. Then, as now, Nicole was a thrall to the vibes at play in her home; she still remembered the first impression of Palmyra as a dim, unwelcoming place bereft of fun and vibes, and though she'd found her share of fun in the city it was still hard to shake off that initial sense of incarcerated dismay. 

And then, as now, she'd played a specific role in the group dynamic - the girl who always tried to keep an eye on every friend, keep everyone together, make sure no one was too drunk or not having their share of the good times. It was a way to make sure everyone got home safe, no one got anything funny dropped in anyone's drinks, and no one was tempted away for the night by anyone [i]too[/i] untoward...but it was also a way of making sure everyone felt included, and that the night would remain a positive memory for everyone to share. She'd assumed that tonight, Radiant Storm would all be--

[i]-ehheh--

-ahhah--[/i]

--in the same boat, in that regard. 

But there were signs early on that Penny and Dana viewed this whole shebang in a different light than Nicole did. Both of them resisted her attempts to buy them trendy swimwear with a voraciousness she found admirable as their team leader, but confusing as their friend; in the end, Dana opted for more simple garb that at least fit her personality, while Penny had ceded to Nicole's sense of taste but looked as uncomfortable as Nicole had ever seen her once she actually put the swimsuit on. You would have thought Nicole was sending her to the trenches at the bottom of the ocean with no armor on from the way Penny fought and stared at the swimsuit in disdain. Even now, the two of them seemed content to prank each other and begin dividing up an armory's worth of water guns between each other. Nicole wouldn't fault them for that. She knew enough to know that the two girls wouldn't find much comfort in the embrace of electronic music or by licking salt and lime juice off of a rich girl's hand or midriff.

but Nicole was a simpler girl, made of weaker stuff than water gun wars. And Aiya's eyes were always watching her. 

They were even watching her right now, playful amber oculars glinting as Nicole slung her head and neck back to gulp down a quick drink of rum. Her body below the collar continued to move on its own; she ruled the dance pad at the moment on a particularly upbeat, heavy disco-funk beat with plenty of driving synth and the occasional orchestral [i]gong[/i] to herald Nicole dropping to the floor or twirling in place. She had put down four competitors in the space of twenty minutes, and was now about to vanquish her fifth, so the richer cadets and blue bloods had slowly begun trying to ply her with alcohol mid-dance routine. As if cerebral impairment had anything to do with slowing down a girl's footwork. That came from the vibes system, not the nervous system. Nervous systems were for nervous people.

And right now, Nicole was dancing on the wind in front of the eyes of the global elite. 

[color=ec008c]"This one goes out--"[/color] she whooped between another [i]GONG[/i] [color=ec008c]"--to Dana Noel! Queen of the gunslingers!"[/color] She spun on her heels and began dancing backwards, the lights of the dance machine glinting off the gemstone in her navel as she pointed two finger guns in the direction of the girls on the railing - just to show there were no hard feelings in refusing to engage in some of the more risque activities. 

[color=ec008c]"One of you pick the next beat! These rich people want to see me loooose!"[/color] she shrieked. [color=ec008c]"They don't know I [i]caaaaan't!"[/i][/color]