Pushing Ray Palmer (known to evildoers everywhere as the Atom) along the
sidewalk in front of him, Bart Allen (idol of millions and galactic
defender Impulse) tries to convince his friend that where they're going is
fun. Really! "Come ON, Ray! You /like/ music, right? There's gonna be
scads of it! Great bands! Dancing! You'll prolley get carded if you wanna
drink, but you don't have to drink. It's more fun if you don't! From what
I hear." He huffs, and comes around the front and tries /dragging/ Ray
instead. Up ahead is a tremendous line, leading up to a depressingly small
building. "Absolutely /ginchy/ bands! The Pharmeceutical Bandits! Reel Big
Fish! The Mad Planets! The Oi Scouts! Heck, even Attaboy Skip's gonna be
there!"

Ray Palmer makes up a wry face and half shakes his head. "I'd almost
rather fight Chronos than head into that crowd, Bart. And what in the
world does ginchy mean anyways?" He continues muttering to himself about
the younger generation and such, but all in all he allows Bart to steadily
propel him forward without too much of a fight.

"Yeah, well, the crowd...so half of 'em are ten! They won't argue with us!
That's the great thing about being in a crowd of people smaller and less
knowledgeable than you are! You have the /power/! And ginchy's the
opposite of skeevy." They get to the end of the line, and in front of them
are a couple of thirteen-year-olds smoking clove cigarettes. Skinny
thirteen-year-olds. Neither of which is wearing the obligatory checkered
clothing, band shirts, suspenders, or classy shoes. Bart leans over and
whispers, "Prolley baby punkoids from Jersey."

Ray Palmer waves his hand in front of his face as the smoke lingers a bit
too long. He wrinkles his nose and turns back to Bart. "Baby whats? Do
they play anything I'd remember?" He listens a bit to the conversations
around him and wonders if maybe he's too old for all this.

The baby punks blow smoke toward Ray and Bart when they hear the kid's
whispered comment, which only proves his point. He cheerfully flips them
off and turns to Ray. "The bands? I dunno. They might cover some old
stuff. The Mad Planets like covering Madness stuff - you might luck out.
Betcha they even play some Devo." He waves and jumps up and down
frantically when a redhead in a plaid miniskirt and go-go boots drives by
on a scooter. "Tricia! Over here!" The girl shakes her head and points at
someone further up the line, and Bart crosses his arms, scowling. "She's
gonna cut the line further up."

Ray Palmer raises an eyebrow in a typical 'I'm too mature for this' look,
then shrugs, as if surrendering to it all. "I'll just try to keep an open
mind, then." He watches the redhead move further up the line and smiles
slightly. "Friend of yours, Bart?"

"Yah," says Bart, running his hands through his hair. "Tricia Dunn. She's
cool. But she'd rather get ahead in line than talk to /me/." He wrinkles
his nose as the little punks in front of him giggle, then raises his
eyebrows and shrugs at Ray.

A group of older teenagers comes up behind Bart, definitely dressed for
success. The guys are wearing suits and porkpie hats, and the girls are
wearing saddleshoes, pleated skirts, thigh-high stockings, and oxford
shirts -- untucked, of course, and with rolled-up sleeves. Bart grins, his
faith in humanity renewed. He pokes Ray. "You're gonna wanna stay away
from the dance floow during the punk sets."

Ray Palmer eyes the newcomers and nods at Bart's comment. "So I
understand. I've never actually seen anyone... uh, is it slam dance?...
before. Or is it stage diving? I get them all mixed up anyways." He wipes
the confused look off his face and continues to scan the crowd, now more
curious than anything else.

Jonny Double stands at the edge of an alleyway running along the side of
the club. He has a cigarette in hand, and a pair of wraparound shades on.
Pursing his lips, he soaks in the adolescent ambience. . o O (Christ I
feel old.)

Bart Allen pokes Ray. "Look. Look!" he hisses, and indicates Jonny with a
tilt of his head. "A scary old dude in a trenchcoat! Think he's the
Phantom Stranger?" Then a couple of guys in their 20s walk by, and he
blinks. "OhmyGODohmyGOD!" he whispers, eyes wide. "Look! It's the guys
from Reel Big Fish!" He starts to laugh. "Hey! Hey, Grant! You gonna get
smashed before the show again??"

The guy pauses to smirk at Bart. "You know it, kid. The younger the crowd,
the more we imbiiiibe. 'S a direct ratio."

"Rock!" Bart yells, then starts laughing again.

Jonny Double pulls back a cuff to examine his wristwatch. He briefly
raises his shades to help him read it's face. He then glances at one of
the bouncers outside of the door. The bouncer frowns at him impassively.
Jonny steps out of the alleyway and circles around to check out the crowd
from a new angle. He taps ash from his cigarette into a trashcan, and
starts scanning the passersby.

Ray Palmer turns to look at Jonny for moment, considering... then with a
*nah, couldn't be* look, he shakes his head and turns to look at the
bandmembers. "These are the guys we're here to see?" He sounds a bit
incredulous, then sighs. "And you know them on a first name basis? I
should've known..." He shakes his head with a half-smile on his face.

Jonny:
        This man looks to be a little taller than average, and a bit more
fit than most. He doesn't look so much athletic as just naturally
well-built, and his general gait is likewise unassuming but somehow
distinctive. There's typically a slight roll in his walk and slouch in his
broad shoulders, conveying a sense of ease and casual cool.
        His face is a good looking face, though a bit rough edged around
the corners. Slight lines crease his jawline and brow, and there's a
dimple in his lantern jaw. He has deep-set, strangely clear blue eyes
which would seem innocent if it weren't for the alert and vaguely weary
quality about them. His hair is a light russet brown, clipped in modern
fashion, short and a little on the spiky side.
        He's dressed in a light gray sportsjacket, a pair of black,
stylishly baggy slacks, and a simple navy blue collarless shirt. On his
feet are a pair of short-cut boots, slightly worn. The outfit is
economical and probably not terribly expensive, but it still manages to
convey a sense of taste and edginess.

"Know them on a first-name basis? Naah. They haven't got clue one who I
am, except I'm at all their shows. Everyone knows /their/ names." He
glances around, trying to see if there's anyone he knows nearby. The line
starts moving, and he puts his wallet chain in his pocket so no one can
see it. Bart glances at Ray again. "Y'alright there, old man?" he grins.

Ray Palmer shuffles forward a bit, now moving in tune with the crowd. He
risks a smirk to Bart and says, "I'll be fine once we get a seat and grab
a coke." An odd look crosses his face for an instant and he asks, "They do
have drinks and stuff... don't they? I can't ever remember going to one of
these places before."

The kid nods, frowning slightly, then raising an eyebrow. "Yeah. Yeah, but
like...it's two-fifty for a cup of soda. Like, a twelve-ounce cup. So
lemme know /now/ if you want anything, and I'll get it before we go in."
He glances around again, then his eyes widen. He points to a huge black
and white bus. "It's the Mad Planets! They're here! The Mad Planets are
here! Dude, those guys are /so/. I mean, seriously. And they're /good/,
too -- they'll absolutely blow you away. I'll see if I can snag a couple
of passes from them - they'll be cool. They're cool." He grins. "Now
/them/, I know on a first-name basis."

Further up the line, a couple of generic-looking guys, somewhere around
twenty years old, start hooting at the bus. One of them throws a cigarette
butt at it, and grins. When the windows of the bus open and each and every
member of the Mad Planets gives the dorks the finger, the entire line
starts cheering.

Ray Palmer blinks at the mention of another band arriving, and turns to
watch just as the fingers come flying. He slowly starts to laugh, trying
to fit all the wildness and such into his preconceived notions of
adolescence in the 70's. Failing at this, he chuckles to himself, almost
like an inside joke and says to Bart, "I take it they're much better than
the, uh, Baby punkers?"

Jonny Double checks his watch again, and starts heading for the front
door. He pushes a few teenagers out of his path, occaisonally bothering to
show his security badge that he's tucked away. It takes a while, and he
doesn't make any friends in the process.

"Out of the way, superfly." Jonny mutters to a kid sporting an afro. "Some
of us have work to do." He waves the security badge again.

"Hell yes, they're better," laughs Bart, then lowers his voice to a
whisper again. "And the baby punks are in front of us. Thirteen-year-olds
are smoking cloves in Jersey. They musta had older friends drop them
off...unless they've got really cool parents. Or they snuck out and took
the bus." That was only /barely/ slow enough to understand. Then he
straightens and adjusts his shirt, and blinks at the shoving going on near
the front of the line. "It's the MAN!" he suddenly yells. "DAMN the man!
Don't let the man put you down, kids!"He shakes his head. "BEt that guy
just wants free beer." The line slowly moves. Slooooowly.

(Just groovy. Some kid's callin' me the 'Man'. I need something to drink.
Two or three somethings.) O o . Jonny thinks as he pushes onwards and into
the noisome club.

Ray Palmer eyes the kids in front of him once more, wrinkling his nose
again at the god-awful smell of the cloves. He cranes his neck a bit to
look around a few of the taller ones standing in line to get a better look
at Jonny as he pushes his way through the crowd. .oO(Now that's the way to
get through this crowd faster...)Oo. He bends towards Bart a bit and
mutters, "Don't they have an age limit or something like that? What kind
of place is this, anyways?" He looks up towards the doors to see if those
entering are being carded.

Bart Allen grins happily. "It's an all-ages show. Reel Big Fish only plays
all-ages shows. Y'just gotta be 21 to drink -- look, we're almost there!
Five buck cover. You can handle that, right?" The line's picked up speed
-- and grown. There're a bunch of people behind them. He frowns. "If Save
Ferris were coming, it'd be your absolute lucky day. They do a great cover
of Come On Eileen. And Mo Powell is /hot/."

The kids behind them grin, and one of the guys pokes Bart on the shoulder.
"Hear they're making an appearance," he says casually. "They're not on the
billing, but if you stay the whole show you might get lucky."

Ray Palmer shuffles forward a bit more and nods, feeling a bit more and
more curious the closer he gets to the doors. "Save Ferris... like from
the movie? At least I've seen that. And did they do the video of Come On
Eileen on VH1? Or was that someone else?" He tries to keep his voice down,
not wanting to attract too much attention to his complete ignorance of it
all.

Lifting up the shades he found somewhere on the basement floor, Wally
peaks out from the dark concealment over his eyes as he looks about,
trying to find Bart. Of course he knows that bart went out and all is fine
and well witht hat, save for Linda's insistant nagging to make sure that
the boy is okay. And since he does believe that Bart is under his care,
somewhat, now.... well, he decided to .... well, now that he thinks about
it it isn't all that right of him to do, spy on Bart like this, but then
again.... wait, is that Ray? Palmer? Hurm, curious. Sliding the glasses
back down over his eyes, Wally moves along with the line, back a ways from
Bart and Ray.

Finally, FINALLY at the door. My god, what a long line! "Oh boy!" exclims
Bart, then claps his hands over his mouth. "Grife," he mutters, grinning.
"I /so/ sound like a little kid." He hands the guy at the door his five
bucks, then waits just inside the entrance for Ray. "C'mon, man,
everyone's doin' it..." He grins, and scopes the interior. It's not very
well-lit, but it's a lot bigger on the inside than on the outside. And the
dancefloor's not nearly full yet. On the right and left there are lounge
areas, with the backs cordoned off as bars; there's a concession stand
near the front with ridiculously priced sidas, candy, and NYC hot dogs.
Bart looks around again and spies Tricia, and smirks.

Jonny Double is at the bar. Two empty glasses sit face down in front of
him, and he's working on number three. He seems to be talking to a blonde
bargirl who might be half his age. His sunglasses are off and on the
chipped countertop next to his right arm, and his eyes continue roving
over the patronage.

Ray Palmer grins and shrugs. "Why not, I suppose." He flips open his
wallet and hands a five to the guy at the door before moving on into the
club. He glances around at the decor, nodding somewhat. "I am actually
impressed. This is better than what I'd pictured for some reason." That
last comment sort of slips out before he realizes he's said it, but then
he shrugs and gestures towards the tables. "Should we grab a chair before
their all taken?"

Bumbed along with the lines, Wally sighs as he loses sight of Bart and
Ray, as his mind speeds to comtemplate why ray might be here with Bart as
well? Curious. Any way, Wally finally makes it to the door and ... ah,
he's not used to carrying money so ... er, he looks over his shoulder and
sighs, as he knows he'll have to go home and get it. So, ducking out of
the line he races home, gets a $5 from Linda's purse, only to make it back
int time so that ... well, he can make it look as though all he did was
turn around. Giving the girl behind him a charming smile she 'oh, what the
hey's' and allows Wally back in his place in line! Promising to buy her a
drink later, maybe, inside to repay her, Wally darts in and looks around.
Not spotting Bart right away he moves to the bar, right to the chair next
to Jonny. "This seat taken, or is it up for grabs?"

Jonny Double mutters something like "Nuh" to Wally, and gulps down his
third drink. He punches himself lightly in the chest and lets his eyes
flutter a little as it hits home. "So, anyways...Sally, right?" Jonny says
the bargirl. "Anyways, Sally, I'm just doin' this to cover my movin'
expenses. I don't pick 'em like this. Just seems to work out that way,
dig?"

Stopping Ray just inside the dance area, Bart raises his eyebrows. "Okay.
Okay, you /need/ to learn how to skank. It's absolutely necessary." He
blinks as he catches a blur out of the corner of his eye, then shakes his
head. Naah. He looks at Ray again. "It's like this. Take your hands, and
make fists. Right. Now, raise your right knee and twist your body so your
left elbow is across from it -- right -- you gotta be bent a little over
-- and do a kind of shuffle-hop backwards with your left foot. Now
switch." He grins. "And trust me, it'll be a lot easier when you see a
bunch of other people doing it."

Ray Palmer looks at Bart as if he just walked in from another planet and
gapes for a moment before he realizes it. Picking his jaw off the floor,
he blinks and slowly shakes his head no. "Nuh-uh. No way. No how." He
takes a step backwards. "I'll do better just watching, thankyouverymuch.
Never was much of a dancer anyways."

'Dig?' Who says that kind of thing any more? Man, that's like from the
sixties, but then again Wally is old enough to know that, but also young
enough to know better to say it. Sliding his shades off, seeing as how it
is hard to see anything with them on inside, Wally turns to lok at the
waitress, waiting for a moment when the stranger will let her go free to
serve him. And so, he glides into the seat next to Jonny and waits for a
slight pause to ask for some "Mineral water?" Then he smiles politely to
Jonny and waits for his water, as he turns to look at where bart might be?

Bart Allen grins. "I'm not crazy. You'll see 'em all doin' it, and get all
self-conscious when you're the only one standin' still."

Ray Palmer chuckles and shrugs. "Guess that's why I'm looking for the
seats while you're checking out the dance floor?" He grins.

Jonny Double gives a sort of dubious glance at Wally. "Watchin' out for
yer kid sister, pal? Or are you just trying to score with the junior high
crowd?" He fishes a cigarette from his jacket pocket, and strikes a match
with his thumb.

Bart Allen ehns, "Right. Hey, no one'd believe you if you said your true
age trying to buy a drink, right? You need a fake ID, man." He glances up
at the bar, then wrinkles his nose. "Can't believe some people just come
to these to get sloshed." Then he does a doubletake. "What the /sprock/?
/Wally/?" He gapes, then numbly pokes at Ray. "Wally's here!"

Wally turns to look at Jonny, wondering if the water question prompted
that responce? "Kid sister? No, can't say that I am. But, trust me, I
don't need to score with anyone in this crowd, or any crowd." He's taken.
Not that you know that tho'... "But, that doesn't explain why you're here.
Looking out for your 'kid,' like I am, in a way?" And for some reason he
seems to blow off Jonny's 'edge' and take the questions as genuine ones,
and so, gives genuine answers. Oh, and then his water arrives and he
smiels to Sally again, and fishes around for some money to pay, or at
least tip for it, "Ah.. you won't believe this, but ... give me a sec?"
And he has been busy talking to Jonny the Stranger and thus missed Bart
noticing him.

Ray Palmer turns around and looks in the direction of Bart's view.
Spotting Wally, a grin pops up across his face and he elbows Bart. "Bet he
came to check up on you... big brother type that he is, and all that." He
smirks at this and his tone belies the fact that he's pulling Bart's leg.

Jonny Double blows a smoke ring. "Me? I'm hired help, dig." He then digs
his security badge from under his shirt. "I get a bar tab and a little
somethin' extra to make sure one of tonights performers doesn't meet with
one of her more fanatic fans."

Bart Allen blahs. "Y'know, he probably did. And knowing him, he'll prolley
forget he needs to use cash to pay for stuff." He raises his eyebrows, and
grins widely at Ray. "Think I should lend him some cash, or let him
suffer? Or...how 'bout...should I go up there and let him know I know he's
here, or...aaah! I can't get up there. So totally under 21. Like, eighteen
/years/ under 21." Yeah, at this point he's tugging at his hair. Reflexive
reaction. It's just there's a lot less of it to tug.

Wally ahs to Jonny. "Then is drinking on the job wise? I mean, with the
energy the kids today have, well, I would think that if your preceptions
were impaired then it would make you not as good at what you were hired to
do. But,t hat's just me." A public superhero, preaching. Imagine that. Oh
well, Wally smiles and sips his water. You'll have to excuse me for a
moment, won't you?" He needs to zip home for a tip. And as he moves to
stand, that is when he notices, down the bar..... Grife. Wait, where did
he pick up that word? He smiles, just a little, to Ray and ... to Bart.
And waves. Hey, look, it's okay? Wally's bad. (for getting caught)

"Hey, Wally!" yells Bart, cupping his hands around his mouth. "Need
cash??"

Jonny Double squints sidelong in the direction Wally's waving. . o O
(Christ, I hope this guy's related to those kids.) "Well, perception is
something I've always been interested in expanding. A little of this
doesn't really do much more than give me a ten-second buzz lately."

Ray Palmer chuckles and shakes his head. "Ah, let him suffer... he'll
manage to get out of it somehow." Just as he finishes, he spies Wally
waving in their direction. "Oh-oh. We've been spotted. No going back now,
eh?" He smiles and waves back in Wally's general direction.

Wally smiles a little innocently to bart and then nods, as he looks to Ray
and nods to the wave as well. He then makes a 'come here' motion, as he
indicates tot he man next to him; Jonny. His new best friend?

Jonny Double gives a really worried glance at Wally, then starts chatting
with Sally the bargirl again. He's describing the scene at a Dead concert
he once attended in vivid detail.

Bart Allen pokes Ray. "Coming? Meet you there. I don't feel like pushing
through." The crowds have certainly started to arrive in earnest. Gah. Big
sweaty jocks and skinheads. THAT's gonna be fun when they start
slamdancing. Bart -- to the unaided eye -- kind of is up there. A little
too fast. WAY too fast. He holds out a ten, "Here, bro, don't get drunk.
Like you could here on ten. Heh! You come here to find me, to scope the
scene, to watch thirteen-year-old baby punks get high and slamdance, or
for the music?" He looks distastefully at Jonny. "Or to associate with the
Man?"

Ray Palmer slips through the crowd at a crawl compared to Bart, pushing
through eventually and arriving at Bart's side. He pauses momentarily to
glare at a particularly ugly skinhead who gave him a shove on his way up
there, then turns back to Wally.

Jonny Double gives Bart the sort of look out of the corner of his eye that
you give a dying mongoose; curious and pitying.

Wally looks from bart to the Stranger. That's the Man? Well, now that Bart
mentions it... "Thanks," Wally says, for the ten, and then makes change to
give the waitress a nice fat tip for his water, handing Bart back half of
the original amount. He doesn't drink and wonders why bart might think he
would? Any way, he shakes his head and motions to the Man. "Actually, he
works security here, and I thought you might be able to ask him about,
well, I wasn't sure how much you liked the band here tonight, so wasn't
sure if youd want to go backstage or not?" Nice how he avoided why he's
here, right? "Ray," Wally says as he turns to the man, offerign a hand,
"It's good to see you agian."

Ray Palmer shrugs off the look he wore to greet the rude skinhead and
replaces it with a smile as he shakes Wally's hand. "You too, Wally." He
asks, "You planning on sticking around for a bit?"

"Neh, I can get passes from the Planets. They like me," notes Bart
matter-of-factly. "And I only want 'em if Save Ferris is coming." He
smirks, then adopts an alien stance. "Okay, you get three guesses." The
kid leans on the counter and lowers mock shades, and runs a hand through
his hair suavely. "Fan-flippin'-tastic," mutters Bart, then whistles
softly. "Mo/nique/ Powell. /Nice/. I would /so/ not mind usin' a little
/especially/ tactile telekinesis on /her/. Woah. /Damn/." He looks up and
straightens, and grins. "I gave that to you. /Gave/ it. I'll be real
disappointed if you don't get it."

Wally rubs at his chin as he looks and watches Bart's impression.
"Supergirl?" he thinks it is one of the superkids, and really, he hasn't
meet either of them much, especially lately to remember them. And you said
something about hitting on a girl, so he went with his best guess. But,
back to Ray. "How is it going? I mean, you know, after the whole
'changing' thing. It seems like we haven't talked much since then,
really." And then he ponders, wondering how to ask something, ignoring
Jonny the Man, his Stranger Friend, for the moment.

Jonny Double looks at the gathering with a distanced amusement. He then
checks his watch as a band starts setting up on the stage. "Sally; I'm
going to check on things in back. We'll finish this conversation after the
kid's night out is over, right?" He smiles one of those smiles and stands.

Jonny Double points at Wally. "If you wanna get backstage, just tell 'em
Jonny said it was okay. As long as nobody gets dead, I'll be cool with
it." He picks up his shades and turns for the stage area, pushing through
the wave of alternateens once more.

Ray Palmer shrugs a bit and says to Wally, "Alright I guess. Just took a
bit of getting used to, I guess. Course Bart here's showing me all the
ropes these days." He give Bart a knowing wink and grins a bit.