Violet & Pixie
There did seem to be a lot of good looking bodies in the mutant world. Maybe it was to make up for getting the short end of the stick in the genetic lottery. Then again, with Revolve, the constant training meant there was no excess body fat. Add that to the diet they had everyone on, and the body was apt to either get good or die.
Violet had grown up the eldest child of six, the very idea of something belonging to her alone had to do with clothes because she was the only one big enough to wear her clothes. Beyond that, she shared everything and was often the one eating behind her siblings. Those boundaries were simply never set for her.
She took a sip out of the glass, as offered and then handed the cup back. Oh yeah, this stuff was spiked. With what, she wasn't quite sure. Since it didn't have a taste and the color of the punch didn't seem to be changed, it was probably vodka or something else clear. "I'm betting Mason's around in here somewhere, isn't he?" If Pixie had seen Victor, she'd undoubtedly seen Mason and he was the kind of person who would spike the punch.