July 10, 2016:

Red Hood meets with Catwoman and has a proposition to discuss.

Tin Roof Club


NPCs: None.



Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

Catwoman's exit from Gotham had come with a bang. A massive one among the 'Families', reaping many of their funds and disappearing as Selena Calbrese. Only few could put the two together, and one who did hunted her and drug her back to Gotham in chains and a collar to fight to the death.

Life number 4:

Back at Tin Roof, Catwoman reclaimed her throne within East End, the Alley Cats back up on security duty as safety is still a concern for their benefactor and friend, but walls dropped save the ones for her peoples safety, and the place that had gone quiet for months once more pumps out the vibrations of music and the thrums of bass even during daylight hours.

Within Catwoman sits upon a table, the booth fully claimed by those in her employ and friends akin, Rodaga standing before her with a hip pushed to the side as he pats on concealer to her jawline to conceal the now sickly yellowing bruise there and the light scar after removal of stitches. He loves his work. "Ah no honey, you will be back to yourself in a jiff, but you jus' can't be wandering around in that color yellow. Does not suit you." A light tsk and a kiss to each cheek and he clips the concealer compact shut, then sashays off.

There are rare times when Jason ventures into Gotham without his mask on. It's on his person, but just not on his face as he manages to get through security to the club. Does he know who runs it? Probably not. His stint was brief and he only learned a few of the Rogues in the Gallery…some a little too well.

But the Underworld is his world now and places like these always have Rats scurrying about. Rats that can lead to bigger things.

He's not dressed particularly up or down and he wears a Gotham Sports Team (tm) baseball cap low on his head, shading his eyes and much of his facial features. Even as he glances about the club he notices the booth with all the security around. That's something of note.

Stepping up to the bar, he nods towards the booth, "Send your best drink there, please. On me." And he'll pull out a $100 to make sure that it happens. "Keep the change."

The security let the man through, but he did not look the part exactly of what would venture into this club, let alone East End. So despite passing, it is radio'd throughout and the bartender only lifts a brow at the offer of the bill and the desired drink for Catwoman. A slow nod and he turns, picking up a bottle of Absinthe, filling the goblet like glass, balancing the slotted spoon over the top with a sugar cube atop, pouring more over it and lighting it aflame to dance in green and blues.

A girl clad in more risque, yet burlesque attire comes forth, nudging a hip slyly along Jason's side as she gathers the drink, flutters a long lashed wink his way before she takes the drink towards Catwoman… But interception is had before full delivery can even be made.

Claws pull free in a flash as they grip over the glass step with a resounding *tink* of contact. Gloved and leather coated from hand, along arm, bleeding into the fully suited figure of Catwoman, cowled in her own manner, but the goggles are pulled up to form the effigy of feline ears atop crown, emerald eyes settling on the back of Jason as lips meet the edge of the enflamed glass, spoon dropping within to cloud the contents with dissolved sugar before she knocks it back.

"The Madame of the Club has gotten your message." The bartender states as he takes the bill and gestures up, just in time for Catwoman to slide up along Jason's side like a panther enshrouded in shadows, leaning forward to slide the drained glass upon lacquered bar top.

"And to whom do I owe thanks?" A tilt of her head to the tender. "Our guest should partake in the house favorite."

The server gets a brief smile but his attention isn't for her tonight. The Rogue isn't unknown to him…he's at least heard of Catwoman in regards to Batman's exploits even if he never really had a chance to meet her. He glances at the booth before he turns back to the Bartender when he's told that his message has been received. He barely has time to nod before he feels the presence of another so close to him, and he's about to turn to shoo the burlesque girl away when the soft purr of the voice hits his ears.

"Just call me an admirer. Absinthe, is it?" He can see that. At the comment about the house favorite, there's another grin, but it seems more predatory than mirthful. "I never drink." It muddles the head and he needs to keep his mind clear, especially in Gotham. Especially in a place like this.

"Admirer?" The smile that touches Catwoman's lips is amused, but there is something else there with a flash of teeth beyond. "Be careful, stranger. I have a few of those, and as of late, most are not welcome here." Though as she speaks she moves from one side of him, to behind and then where there is more space to slide upon the bartop in a fluid motion that plants leather clad ass just beside him on that shining surface. But the lean moaned out in the resistance of attire announces her press to peer beneath the bill of the Gotham sports cap. No, not rising it, but a finger presses along the bill and then taps it.

"Gotham Rogues fan, hm? I cannot particularly say I am a fan of football, but Rogues…" The smile spreads then as she pulls back and slings one leg over the other to cross.

"Shall I call you Addy for short?" A lift of manicured brow that bears a scar through the edge, marring its perfection, but fitting of the wearer.

Jason Todd does take a step back as Catwoman tries to peer under the brim of his hat…not that she'd necessarily recognize him, but it's a 'thing'. It should be fairly familiar in Gotham. "I'm not that kind of an Admirer," although his eyes do glance at her up and down, "But I certainly do appreciate what's before me." Another smirk then. "I'm not a huge fan, no, but I've seen a game or two. Even played one with some Rogues…" two can play at this word game.

"You can call me whatever you want, but only if we get to continue this little cat and…well, something game where there are less ears and eyes." He's certainly not about to refer to himself as a 'mouse'. He's not prey.

The Admirer's she was speaking of were ones who did not want her sitting so prettily, so his comment on appreciation gets a laugh borne on a short sniff, the smile lifting moreso, but in a cautionary manner, one that narrowed those kohl lined eyes ever so slightly. His return of word play though, does bear a second glance, one at periphery as her back arches and legs uncross - a motion that has her sliding off the bartop. Walking back behind him and towards the back of the Club a hand rises and a single digit curls in beckoning, the motion alone flashing a clawed tip to come and go.

"I cannot promise a less indirect watch, but ears, that I can, as some things are not meant to be heard, and you've come to just the place." Shifting a large and heavy velvet curtain of purple and black to the side a door to a back room is opened. This establishment caters to all tastes afterall.

"Cat and… Depends on what you relate to. Birds and Bats are pretty common in this city as well. Let's hear all about those games you play." And with a gesture she offers him entry beyond.
Jason Todd does a quick glance about before he follows Catwoman to the curtained area. Eyes still aren't the best, but he's not in his house, he's in her's. Some rules need to be obeyed before they're broken. He does, however, try to find where any surveillance might be and make sure his back is to it. Just in case. He wouldn't want anyone figuring out who or where he was.

"I don't relate to either of those," is offered in an almost harsh tone. He catches himself and takes in a breath before letting it out.

"You've been awfully quiet of late," is offered, as if he's been watching the club and noting when it's revitalization occurred. Maybe he has. Maybe his people have.

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