Shakedown at Sherwood

December 27, 2015:

Scott visits Sherwood Florist to pick up some flowers for Jean and gets interrupted by a couple of gangbangers.

Sherwood Florist - Gotham City

A flower shop. In Gotham?? Ivy will not be pleased!


NPCs: NPC Thugs

Mentions: Jean Grey


Mood Music: Thunderstep Music - Laniakea

Fade In…

It is Sunday, a day when many businesses are closed, but there is one shop that is open as it is every other day of the week. Sherwood Florist is not only open but seems to be seeing a bout of brisk business with several people getting flowers for whatever reason. One wants an arrangement for a friend's funeral while another wants a dozen roses for their girlfriend and a third wants a small bundle of daisies for a friend they're visiting in the hospital. Each request is seen to efficiently and soon they are out the door, leaving Dinah Lance a bit more in the black and in need of sweeping.

Murmuring to herself, she gets a broom and sees to that, a slight bit disgruntled to see how some of the petals fell off the daisies despite having been delivered just a couple days ago. Looks like an order for more is needed to be made.

As customers come and go, a tall figure in a black turtleneck with blue jeans and a leather jacket comes into the store, setting off the little chimes. Adjusting his quartz glasses on his nose, he looks around with the red lenses, and really, Scott Summers looks more than a little out of place as he sneezes, overwhelmed for just a moment with the smell of flowers and pollen in the warm store. He takes out a pack of Kleenex to blow his nose politely as he continues to browse the shop, his brow furrowing in confusion. Totally lost on where to even begin.

Dinah glances up and smiles as she hears the sneeze, that sadly not uncommon for people who walk in here to have inflicted upon them. "Bless you." No, Dinah's not very religious, but it is habit for her to say that when someone sneezes. Scott's given a bit of a look, then, a quick assessment before she asks, "Can I help you?" The sweeping continues as she asks that, the bristles of which make a soft whisper against the hardwood floor.

There's a small sniffle as Scott makes sure there's no chance of leakage as he rolls up the tissue and sticks it in his pocket so he can dispose of it later. "Thank you." he offers to the blessing. While not religious himself, he appreciates the sentiment as he considers the lilies, as it were. "Well.. maybe?" he finally suggests with a small chuckle. "There's this girl.." he starts in explanation. "And we've been dating for a while now - just recently moved in together. Anyway, before that, I had done a lot of things that put other things before her." Like their daughter, the world, his own anger, it's a long list. "We're nowhere near perfect, but really, it's a miracle that she's stayed with me. And I guess I'm looking for something to at least start to offer an apology for being as ass for the last few months."

It is not anything Dinah hasn't heard before. Her customers often talk about why they need flowers, commonly delving deep into their private lives to do so, so she barely so much as blink when Scott goes into such detail. "An apology," she semi-echoes, thinking to herself as she does. "Well, I think roses are not very appropriate if one's looking to say 'I'm sorry'. Those are more romantic than apologetic." The broom is set down and she moves to the large refrigerator units, peering into them as she considers options. "How about lilies?"

"Roses are cliched." Scott says with a frown. And the way he says it, probably suggests that with his whole world being that rose color, he's not a fan of it. Glancing up to her with the lensed glasses, he tries to chase off the frown with just a hint of a smile. "I know, it's the go to and all that.. but.." he shrugs his shoulders, his hands stuffed into his pockets with the thoughts. "Lilies?" he asks finally. The way he turns to consider them and offers more of a profile, Dinah may recognize him as the 'mutant accomplice' to the terrorist known as Rachel Grey that was all over the news back in July. That could explain some things. "I'm not sure. Lilies seem a little.. light.. for the amount of trouble I caused her."

Figuring out the perfect flower isn't always easy and Dinah falls quiet, her mind working options. Rose… no. Lilies… no. "Let's see. Carnations, poppies, hmm… maybe a small bouquet? Do you know her favorites, by chance? That might do a lot to soothe over the past. Would show that you've paid attention to her and her likes." Okay, so she's kind of floundering, here, but she really is trying her hardest to help the glasses-bedecked Scott out.

Sometimes, there is no help. Scott may just be floundering that much, because really, he has no idea where to even begin. The young man lets out a breath. "I.. I'm not sure." he admits as tries to think of any flowers he may have seen on Jean's desk lately, and when it comes to it, he draws a total blank. She's not the only one floundering. As he reaches back to rub his hairline at his neck, he finally offers lamely. "She's a redhead." As if somehow flowers are magically matched by hair-color.

While the two of them are talking, a pair of figures walk into the store. Dressed in casual clothing, they glance over where the leggy blonde is talking to the tall brunette, and one of them leans over to whisper to his companion. The companion nods, walking along the aisle, and plucks up a daisy to start to pluck the petals. "She wants me." Pluck. "She totally wants me." Pluck. And he drops the petals to the floor where Dinah had just swept. So terrible.

The conversation would remain on the subject of Scott's floral problems but the others come in, the way they're acting drawing Dinah up short. The way he acts, the way he just takes a flower only to then denude it of it's petals and discards them upon her floor… it makes her angry, to be honest. "You'll have to pay for that," she grunts, voice tight and body shaking slightly, "and then you and your friend will have to leave." A glance is given to the man she had been speaking to and she mouths an 'I am sorry' as if this is some how her fault.

"Awww, she's even hotter when she's trembling with anger…" gang-banger one offers as he glances over at his compatriot, and grins. He picks up one of the roses and after smelling it, lowers his head to bite the head of it off, chewing it a few times before he spits it onto the floor. "Shit tastes like punta." he grunts as he reaches up to wipe his mouth.

"Sure, baby." gangbanger two, the Daisy gangbanger, says as he comes over towards Scott and Dinah. "Why don't you and I go to the back, and I'll work out some payment … arrangements … on you." he winks at her suggestively.

Scott frowns, adjusting his glasses. "I'm not sure that's what she meant." he says as he moves to interpose himself between Dinah and Daisybanger. "As she said, perhaps it's a good time to leave."

The Daisybanger grabs Scott by the front of his shirt. "Oh yeah? What are you? Her knight in four-eyed armor?" he says with a snort and laughs in Scott's face. "Why don't you just carry your ass on back to your little redhead, and leave us with blondie here. There's enough to go around, after all." A flash of a knife comes out from the Daisybanger as he shows it to Scott. "Before I decide to treat you like a tree and carve my initials into you, slick."

The other gangbanger, noticing the commotion, pulls back his coat a little to show the handle for a pistol. "Just play cool, and we'll take what we want and be on our way." he says with a scowl.

Maybe Oliver was right. Maybe she should have just gone home and opened her florist shop there instead of here in this part of Gotham. For a moment Dinah entertains the idea of relocating while Scott tries to play hero, ignoring the horribly lewd suggestions from the one guy, but when a knife's pulled out and she sees the other hint to how he has a gun, Dinah knows what she must do.

Stepping up behind Scott, Dinah presses her palms to his ears, trying to protect the nice man's hearing, before she lets loose with a bit of her power. The sonic 'cry' is held back, Dinah not wanting to kill anyone or do any damage to the items in her shop, her intention knocking the gang members out. Try as she must, and as successful as she might be in the latter, several vases do shatter, spilling water and blossoms as they break, and one of the large glass windows cracks. Damn. She'll have to get someone to replace that before tonight.

The bangers crumbled to the floor and the 'cry' stops, Dinah slightly breathless now. "Sorry." And it is only then that she removes her hands from the side of Scott's head, his hearing returned.

Dinah Lance rolls 18 on 1d20.

Dinah Lance rolls 3 on 1d20.

Just as Scott was about to say something, Dinah's hands clamp over his ears, startling the man as he jerks backwards, quickly grasping exactly what is going on as Dinah unleashes her sonic scream. The Daisybanger, at point blank range of her scream, has no chance to even defend himself, the knife dropping to the floor as he cries out in pain, Blood was already starting to come from his ears from shattered eardrums as he drops to the floor, his whimpering and curled into a ball, effectively taken out by the scream.

The gun gangbanger has a better chance. Seeing what Dinah had done to protect Scott's ears, he mimics the motion, clamping his hands over his ears as she blasts away. The concussive force of the waves knock him to the floor, but when the scream stops and she's left breathless, the screams, "YOU MUTANT BITCH!" he bellows. "I'm gonna shove something in your mouth to make you shut the fuck up!" He's reaching for his gun.

Scott reacts. He knows he's not wearing his visor and if he takes off his glasses fully with his eyes open, he may very well pulverize the gangbanger. Which isn't outside the realm of thought of what he would like to do to the guy, he practices a modicum of self-control. While her powers may come from her mouth, Scott lifts his glasses just a little and unleashes a concentrated beam that smacks into the gun and hand. The gun is crushed and knocked away and the guy grabs his hand, screaming in pain. "Fucking freak! You broke my hand!" he screams, writhing in pain.

"I am so tired of the god damn lewd comments." Huffing angrily, she glares at the gun and the kid wielding it, about to say something. But Scott does his thing, that shocking Dinah into something akin to shocked silence for a while. Wow. That is impressive. The screaming from the punk snaps her out of it and he's soon got a fist in his face. He might've gotten away without feeling the impact of her power but he probably won't be so lucky this time, the punched aimed for his temple which will hopefully knock him unconscious.

"I am so sorry…," that uttered to the one peson here who actually was trying to get flowers so he can do something nice for his girlfriend. "Take whatever you'd like for her, on the house." Least Dinah can do for all the crap that has happened in the past several minutes.

The gangbanger is too busy nursing his hand to realize that Dinah's coming in until she smashes her fist into his temple and he collapses to the ground, his pain ended by being knocked into a blissful unconsciousness. The other gangbanger, the Daisy one, has already passed out from his injuries, the two of them taken out by the combination of light and sound.

Scott flushes slightly, a little embarrassed at the idea of having to use his powers without at least warning Dinah about it. He takes out his phone to contact the local police department before he takes some twine used to wrap up flowers to tie the gangbangers' hands behind their back, just in case they do wake up before the police and ambulance arrive.

"That's a nice offer, Miss.. but I can't do that. At least let me help you clean up?" he offers, hand out for a broom. "And then we can talk about flowers and delivery." There's a slight smile offered. "You wouldn't happen to know the Cassidys, would you?"

People are gawking as they pass the shop, much to Dinah's chagrin, and she turns away to better be able to ignore all that. "Pretty handy with those eye beams of yours… huh? Oh, no. I think I'd rather clean it up myself. Will help me calm down. But thanks." Pause. "Name is Dinah Lance. Feel free to call me Dinah." She offers the gentleman a hand while she waits for him to give his name to complete the introductions.

The broom is taken from where she had leaned it against the wall once they shake but it isn't handed over. She instead uses it herself. Tough as she is, she feels tears come to her eyes and she hurries to wipe them away. "The… who? No. I don't think I have any relations by that name, sorry."

Taking the hand, Scott shakes it and offers a faint smile. "Nice to meet you, Dinah. I'm Scott. Scott Summers." he responds. As she starts to clean up, he frowns faintly, but he moves to take out the trash. The trash in this case is the two gangbangers, that he drags over to the door to deposit to leave for the police to get to easier.

He takes note of her tears as he moves to gather a trash can to start to pick up the larger pieces of glass to throw them away. "Well, I can't really turn them off." he admits with a chagrined look as he tosses away a shattered half of a vase. "Quite the lovely singing voice you have there." It's meant to be disarming, but he's not very good at being charming. "Does it hurt to use it?" he asks in confusion about her tears.

Scott's busying himself with the knocked-out jerks gives herself time to regain her composure and by the time he turns around she's fine although it is too late to try and act like the tears didn't happen. He's already seen them and she's not that good of an actress. "Thanks for your help. I am not sure what would have happened if you weren't here." Actually, Dinah can guess as to what would have happened if he wasn't, it entailing the gang members being taken out of here in body bags, most likely.

The man is allowed to help, the shopkeeper too tired to argue with Scott. "What is it like, having powers like yours," gets asked just before the compliment is given to her, to which she smiles sadly in thanks, that followed swiftly by a shake of her head. "Quick bursts like that do not hurt. If I try to sustain it for a long period of time it does, though." A lot. Like the worst sore throat multiplied by a million.

"I haven't seen anything in other than the color red since I was a teenager." Scott admits, a shrug of his shoulders. "I only know Jean is a redhead because she told me." She could be a natural blonde for all he knows. And it's a good thing that the bodybags aren't mentioned, Scott has a pretty strict 'no-kill' policy when it comes to using powers. He nods his head slowly in thought as he tries to salvage a few of the flowers from their shattered vases.

"We're both teachers at an Institute that teaches and educates children with abilities like ours." he admits. "So we're always ordering flowers for decoration and what have you. The local place is nice and all, but we're always looking for new contracts." Especially those that are friendly to fellow powered people. "Up in Westchester."

Like Scott, Dinah has a similar policy but sometimes she forgets to keep self-control about herself when confronted with a situation like the one they just faced and… well, shit happens. She probably would have beaten herself up for it only to later try to find a way to justify it, but in the end she most likely would have just felt guilt-ridden. "Well, I am sure that she must be beautiful. All redheads seem to be very much so." The flowers that have been in the glass are looked at but then she shakes her head. "Go ahead and toss those." Not a good idea to send out flowers that are less than perfect.

The glass gets swept up quickly and disposed of while a siren wails, the cops having been quick about getting here. That cause Dinah to relax. Thank God. "Hmmm… oh. Are there no florist shops where you are?" Never having been to Westchester, she's clueless.

"Oh, there is, but you know. Nothing wrong with a little competition?" Scott chuckles slightly as he lets out a little breath as he hears the police as he looks towards the slightly less-than-perfect flowers. "I'll pay for these." he says with a thoughtful pause. Imperfect flowers from a rather imperfect guy. It makes more than a little sense in Scott's head. Helping to finish with the cleanup, he takes out his wallet and cash to pay for the flowers, and a business card for the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters. "Come visit sometime, I'd like to give you a tour." She may be a mutant, she may not be, but it's always good to try to make a new ally.

"Maybe, if you want, you could deliver some flowers to her and determine for yourself." he says with a small smirk as he writes down Jean's information on the card as the Headmistress at the school.

The card is taken and looked at once the purchase is concluded, the receipt and change handed over in trade. "I would like that. Would be nice to meet your girlfriend and see what this school is about." A tour would be interesting, especially considering she hasn't heard of it.

When she's given Jean's info she raises a brow and nods, her mouth curling into something of a wry grin. "Sure I can deliver something. Just… you know. Ask her what she likes and call me so I can make a nice arrangement for her." That'll be a lot easier than having Scott and her both try to figure it out on their own.

And imperfect flowers make a great opening for figuring out what Jean likes. A little sampler pack, as it were. Scott smiles faintly - he doesn't seem to have a full smile option as he nods and takes up the flowers he purchased. "I will do that. It was nice to meet you, Dinah." he says, planning on making his escape before the cops arrive so that there's no further trouble for the woman. "I look forward to seeing you again soon." With that, he turns and puts away his wallet, moving to head out of the shop and onto the street beyond.

"Nice to meet you too, Scott. Stay safe." When he exits she merely watches, letting him go without any further commentary from him. When the door closes behind him she looks around and sighs, still a bit upset by what transpired. "Oliver will never know what happened," she grumbles while getting the trash ready to be taken out. He'll just worry about her if he were to find out and the last thing she needs is for him to tell her he told her so.

Sometime Later…

The sirens that cruise down Gotham's street were loud but in a sense went unnoticed. The only time that the sirens were noticed was when there was a lack there of, people would wonder why it would be so quiet in a night just like any other night in Gotham.

After the flower shop, which Ivy possibly had.. 'heard' or felt, the pick plucking of the petals upon a rose and random babies caused her to rise and rouse from her place to draw down in that current direction, gaze as cold as ice..

The squad car turns a corner, only to be met with an overly thick vine that slams itself down upon the hood of the car, the back end drawing up into the air then down again with a few bounces that jar the cops and the men inside. Windows were soon broken, as gnarled hands reach inside to pull the thugs out, while the other tree sentries kept the policemen within the doors.

"Wait.. wait.." The cool voice of Ivy calls out, drawing into view with a sway of suede that clings to the form of the ethereal temptress, fingers drawn up to pick and pluck fabric from each digit as she approaches the two gang-bangers that did damage to the shop as well as the flowers. They did not hear the screams, feel the petals as they hit the cold, hard ground.

"I said wait!"

The surrounding area grew silent, the siren damaged by the smack of the vine that slowly and sickly curls itself from the vehicle, and soon the soft groans and rickety crick in the areas become a little deafening as she leans in to view the men, who leered at first, soon reduce themselves to quiet trembles and shivers.

"Love me?" She asks, as the wooden sentry snatches the cuffs from the first thug, bringing his arm around with a sharp snatch, tug, pull and presentation for Queen Ivy.

"Love me .." Her hand reaches outright, grasping one of the fingers, swooning softly with a slight shake of her head as the man tries to make a fist. The index finger was soon drawn outright as her fingers curl around it..



"Bring them to my Reservoir, my loves!" Fingers snip-snap loudly in the air as she turns with a happy bounce in her step, who says that Christmas can't last the week?

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