January 06, 2019:
In dire need of a drink, Lena runs into Jason Todd.
Gotham City
Characters
NPCs: None.
Mentions:
Plot:
Mood Music: [*\# None.]
Fade In…
*
The chill in the air is palpable tonight. People walking the streets of Gotham are having their breath come in big clouds, and the air is filled with a nipping cold and water. A storm has blown in off the waterfront, and it pelts the city with driving rain. Sheets of water cover the streets, turning them into rivers. The street lights give the city a nice ambient glow in the water and cold.
It is warm, however, in a nice cozy bar in the middle of Gotham city. Not a dive so much as a corner pool hall and watering hole, its a cozy and quiet place wreathed in the smell of old smoke and old beer. The music in the background is soft classic rock, and the Gotham Rogues are playing on all 3 big screen tvs.
A Hooded man sits at the bar, leaning over a glass with a cigar smoldering in his fingers. His eyes are cast up at the screen. He yells wordlessly as the quarterback gets sacked.
*
Lena needed a drink. After everything that's happened, she was still left waiting. What she had taken on that night was still in her possession, usually for jobs like that, it was there and gone, leaving her skin just fine and not with a target blazing off of it. She needed a drink, she needed to settle. The cold outside is nice. It doesn't bother her, even as it slicks down her hair and pelts her in the face. At length, she decides to get said drink.
Brushing her hair back, she slips into the bar, closing the door behind herself and kicking the slush off her boots. Taking in a breath, she exhales smoothly and finally feels herself relax. Saddling up against the bar, she requests a drink and glances off toward the screens. Her expression twists up, she never was one for sports, but it's easy enough to ignore. Another drag of her painted fingers through her hair, she glances around, frost-blue eyes skipping across the tables, the patrons, and back again.
*
Jason leans back on the barstool, stretching his spine out abit and taking a look at the new comer. He gives her a nod before taking another drag on his cigar. "Hey Frank!" he calls to the bartender. "I seem to have a problem." He polishes off the dregs of his glass. The bartender rolls his eyes at the man, getting him another beer before coming over to get Lena her drink with abit of flair and setting the glass in front of her.
*
Lena nods back, giving a passive smile in silent greeting. "Don't let him get to you, honey." She tells the tender, giving Frank a much more warm expression. "At the end of the night, he's still paying, hmm?" Winking, she rests her hand around her drink and tips it back. A pass of her tongue to her lips to gather up residue, she eyes Jason briefly before turning her head up and toward the screen. For the time being, she was too tired to move. "They sell those here?" She asks of Todd, motioning toward his cigar with the neck of her bottle.
*
Frank chuckles slightly. "Oh don't worry, we put up with him because he tips well."
Jason takes a deep drink of the dark brew in front of him, letting it wash down his throat. He shivers slightly, the cold seeming to get to him for a moment. He makes another exclamation at the TV, before turning to Lena. "Nah, no way to get good tobacco in Gotham," He says causual. He pulls one out of his pocket and offers it to her.
*
"Really? How come? Sounds…strange that a city like this can't get something simple in." Shrugging, she winces, the twitch light on her face as she reaches out. Accepting it, she murmurs her thanks and then gives it a soft drag under her nostrils. "Nice enough. Can you cut this cap off for me?" She requests, offering the cigar back out his way. "And if you got a light, you'll be my hero tonight."
*
Lena might caught him taking note of the wince of pain, but the mysterious expression on his face disappears very quickly. "You'd be surprised how often I am called that," Jason says with a grumble, fishing out his cigar cutter and lighter. "Gotham doesn't have the best because most people don't buy it. They want all the flavored stuff. That's what sells here." He gently cuts the end of her cigar, and then slides the Zippo toward her. Jason takes a nice long drag on his before blowing out a cloud of smoke and taking another drink.
*
Lena wets the cut in, settling it between her lips and flicking the Zippo open. She lights the cherry, puffing it to life before clicking the lighter shut and offering it back. Drawing it free and resting it between her fingers, she exhales and chases it with the brew. "Well, to each their own. I'll admit, I enjoy vanilla in my smokes. What few I get, that is." Smoke up, she nods his way. "Thank you for this. It's been a rough few nights." Another drag, she exhales, glancing off toward the TV again. "Lena," she offers his way in an after thought.
*
Red Hood nods in agreement. "I get that," he says with a sigh. "I've had a pretty rough few nights as well. Finally getting a chance to relax is what I really needed." He takes her hand and gives it a firm shake. "Jason," He says with a smile.
*
Noticing his hand, she shifts to offer one in return, the bottle down and her grip fitting into his own. "Nice to meet you, Jason." Chilling, her touch is slightly cold on contact, warming in his palm but carrying with it the winter air from outside. "Sorry to hear that," she laments, making small talk as best she can. Drinking, smoking, she moves in her seat, slowly, carefully, so that she can face him directly. The TV is forgotten, at least by her. "What do you do, Jason? I mean, living in Gotham is reason enough to want to relax I'd assume." She smirks.
*
Red Hood gives her hand a firm shake before letting go. "Me?" He chuckles slightly. "Contract work mostly. Odd jobs every once in awhile. Enough to be comfortable in my situation. How about you Lena?" He takes another drink and turns to her fully as well.
*
"I'm a collector." She offers in return. "Sometimes I have to work with contracts, too. If someone loses something, I get it back for them. Family business, y'know?" Dragging, she exhales, making sure to turn her head away and not to shower smoke in the man's face. "So, what happened? Something go wrong?"
*
"Nothing really, just the economy," Jason chuckles, giving her a hug. "Its a good living, I can set my own hours and choose which jobs I'm going to take. Cheery gig." He blows out another cloud of smoke, making small rings. "Collector? Fine art, antiques, spoons, beenie babies?" He smiles at his own joke. "Sorry. So a liberator, or something? You find stuff that was lost or misappropriated?"
*
"Nothing really, just the economy," Jason chuckles, giving her a smile. "Its a good living, I can set my own hours and choose which jobs I'm going to take. Cheery gig." He blows out another cloud of smoke, making small rings. "Collector? Fine art, antiques, spoons, beenie babies?" He smiles at his own joke. "Sorry. So a liberator, or something? You find stuff that was lost or misappropriated?"
*
Lena mmms, shifting hands and taking turns to enjoy the inhale and drink in time. In some stint of being playful, she blows out and through the rings still lingering in the air above them. "Eh, whatever sells, really. Girl's gotta eat." Licking her lips, she moves her cigar over, tapping off its ash stack into a waiting tray. Finishing her brew, she sets it aside and motions for another one. "Something like that. Sometimes, the negotiations go off without a hitch. Othertimes, well, there's complications." Eyeing him with her pale stare, her smirk returns, one he knew as it presses a dimple into her cheek. "Buy your next drink?" She offers.
*
"If you are certian you want to," Jason says with a lop-sided grin. "I will never say no to a free drink from a pretty girl." He polishes off what is left in his glass, which wasn't much. "What kind of complications? Lawyers getting in a tiff because you didn't dot enough eyes on the proper forms, or clients feeling like they paid to much to get their commemorative Wizard of Oz plate collection back?" He shrug. "Sorry, don't mean to belittle your job. Just find certain parts of like funny?"
*
"I'm pretty certain. Might die tomorrow, right?" Once her drink arrives, she asks for another for Jason, explaining that she'll catch the tab for it. Giving thanks, she giggles against her cigar, eyeing him briefly and glancing away. "Sometimes people are just upset. People get protective over what they think is theres, and things can get violent. Just part of the job, I suppose. Different places are more dangerous than others, of course. Gotham, for example. I want to like it here, but I can't." Leaning closer, she covers her mouth, blocking its side view as she whispers. "I'm not even suppose to be here anymore."
*
"Not even supposed to be here?" Jason whispers, raising an eyebrow conspiritorially. "You collected a man's socks didn't you? You got a pair of fluffy socks off a man in the middle of a cold winter. You must have no heart." He smirks again knocking ash from his cigar and taking a drink. "Gotham really has very little room for most people. You have to be off a certain type. What are you looking for in a city?"
*
Reaching out, she gives his chest a soft push. Sitting up, she shakes her head, "Please, I'm not that cold. I promise." She chuckles and sips her bottle. "Well, unless he deserves it. But no, that's not what I did. Just had a rough run-in the other night. Had someone help me, but turn around and threaten my life. Things like that make me actually like this place. It doesn't apologize. It knows how it is. It understands." Shrugging, she takes another swig and rests her cigar down for the time being. "I don't know. I know how to survive just about anywhere, but here I want to live?" Eyes his way, she leans on the bar, resting her cheek within the cradle of her palm. "The darker parts of this city remind me of where I grew up. It's comforting."
*
"So its got the grit you want, but not the nice you need?" Jason says with a shrug. "You don't want to just get by, you want to actually make a mark on the world. I get that believe me." He sits up straight and cracks his neck. "This city takes the bold or the crazy…or both really in equal measure. I grew up here, but I don't really know why anyone else would stay to be perfectly honest." He blows more smoke. "Other than the climate that is." He points to the rain outside."
*
"I don't need nice." She murmurs, her face twisting up at the word. "That's not really a thing. At least, more often than not, it's not genuine. 'Nice' is what people do when they want something out of you." Giving a wave of the bottle, she eyes its lip before tipping it back. "In truth? I do what I do to try and impress my dad. Maybe if I get my name out there, I'll see him again." Following his finger, she smiles at the rain. "I like the weather here, actually. Only wish the snow was more white and less…filth and muck."
*
"Snow does make the gloomy city sort of shine doesn't it?" Jason says with a nod. "Gives everything a nice and soft look." His gaze disappear for a long moment, staring into the middle distance like he isn't really there. They come back quickly though. "You talk to most Gothamites, they'll say they 'Nice is any place other than Gotham.'" He chuckles. "I honestly can't imagine living anywhere else. So your father is a collector too?"
*
"One of the best." She beams, proudly. "So I heard anyway. Never knew him personally." Finishing her drink, she sets the bottle aside and refuses another for now. Her smoke is forgotten, leaving Jason a good half should he wish to reclaim it. "I like to think I do a good job, maybe even as good as he did." Rubbing her arm carefully, she shifts in her seat and crosses on leg over the other. "Let me ask, why do you stay here?"
*
Red Hood turns back to his drink, gazing at the drink in front of him for a long moment. "Family mostly," He says. "This is where the family is, and this is where the work is. So I don't leave. Maybe I'll shoot up the coast for a weekend, week at the most. Go party with a friend for abit. Family keeps calling me back though." He takes a long pull on his cigar. "I think they need someone to feel better than. Make their hearts swell that at least they are better than Jason."
*
"Fuck'em." Lena decides, sitting up slightly, her brows knitting together at his last line. "Family is fine, I get that connection. But I tell you what I also get - the fact that you don't have to give a shit about someone if they treat you badly. Not even family. Fuck'em. It's not up to you to make them feel better about themselves. Shouldn't be, either." The idea of it causes her to look toward Frank, accepting another drink, this time something harder.
*
Red Hood lets out a laugh, and for the first time Lena can really see the bags under his eyes from missing nights of sleep. "You may just have a point there, Lena," he says, shaking his head. "Hey, I got this one." He points to Frank and drains he rest of his glass.
*
"Thanks. Take a shot with me?" She asks him, waiting for the smaller class to come her way. She notes those bags, and he could probably see a hint of her own under the ash of her liner. "If they want you to work with them, to be around them, they have to respect you."
*
"Trying to get me drunk?" Jason says with a grin. "No matter who sloshed you get me, you aren't getting my warm socks." He nods. "I get that. Respect. Well, there is very little to spare, but I will start demanding it, I can tell you that." He sets his cigar asside. "Two questions, what are we shooting and to what are we shooting?"
*
"Drunk? No. Unless that's you telling me you can't handle your liquor." She teases. "Oh, Jason, you can keep your socks on, I promise." A wink, she grins now, agreeing with him and ordering their shorts. "Whiskey. And to respect." A pause, "And maybe to the possibility of someone going out to coffee with me."
*
Red Hood takes the shot and holds it up in front of him. "Good, cause my feet are terrible at getting cold," He shakes his head. "Poor circulation, I'm told." He looks at Lena over the top of the shot glass. "To Respect then. And you'll have to ask Frank yourself, I don't know if he likes coffee."
*
"Guess that means you're not interested." She murmurs, glass up before knocking it back. Thinning her lips, they fill back out naturally, she sets the glass aside. "I'll let you get back to your game, Jason. It was nice meeting you but I should get out of here, attempt to sleep. Hope that man who's socks I stole doesn't find me." Another smile, she digs into her pocket to pay off her bill.
*
Red Hood shoots it back, letting the whiskey burn its way down his throat. He does another funny little shiver as it hits him. "I never said that," He says with a cough and a smirk. "I'm a coffee fiend, myself. When I'm not here really." He polishes off the rest of his drink as a chaser.
*
"Oh yeah?" She inquires, paying up and returning to his side to leave a tip. "Same." She looks his way, head tilting slightly. "Maybe I'll see you not here and in a cafe sometime, then. If, y'know, you /are/ interested." She lingers, waiting. "Your choice, that is. You're a local, you can point me in the direction of a good cup of joe. Once I get the name, well, then I can ask Frank." She smiles.
*
"Spooky Brews up the road abit is generally the best coffee in the local radius," Jason says with a nod, turning himself to look straight at her. "They have a particular drink called an All-Nighter than I am a fan of. Trying to get them to replace the name with mine." He stands slowly, and oddly gracefully for a man who has done as much drinking as he has. "If you like, I can walk you there."
*
"Aww, how nice of you." An apologetic look is given Frank's direction, even if the tender was probably busy or not caring about their teasing of each other. Back to Jason, she sizes him up briefly. Finally, she nods. "I accept. Lead on, Jason."
*
"Can do," Jason says with abit of a smirk. He turns back to the bar, pulling out his wallet. He opens it and throws a few bills down on the table top. He turns back to Lena and gestures toward the door, striding over to a coat rack and throwing on a heavy overcoat. "Ladies first."
*
Still in her coat, sadly not her normal one as it was lost in an alley somewhere in Gotham, she follows after casually. Slipping back outside, the rain crashes against her, causing her to blink and squint briefly. Waiting for Jason to join and lead the way, she falls into step alongside him, her hands resting in her pockets. "I'm excited," she confesses at length. "I haven't had a good cup of coffee in a long time." For whatever reason, her eyes skip upward, looking toward the shadows and rooftops with a sense of paranoia.
*
Red Hood walks with her, his hood up and shoulders hunched abit at the cold. "Hard to find the place what does it just right," Jason says, with a shrug. "It's kind of like a Zen thing. The perfect cup of coffee is unobtainable, because there is so such thing." He gives her a smirk, and follows her look up to the rootline. "Expecting something? Bat signal is that way."
*
"No. Bat doesn't worry me. Told you, tough nights. Easy city to get jumped in." She murmurs without thinking, almost. When she doesn't see what she thought she might, she slinks closer and keeps walking. "Hey, I'm trusting you on this java. If it's horrible…I know exactly who to blame. You've been warned."
*
"Oh don't you worry," Jason says with another laugh. "If we get jumped, I am a master of the ancient martial art of screaming like a little girl." The walk does not take long before the smell of coffee fills the air. "We are here." Jason says, opening the door to a modest looking building with the smells of baked goods and ground coffee beans wafting out.
*
"I'll keep you safe." She smirks, feeling a wave of comfort once that smell hits her nostrils. Sighing, she slips in, brushing back her hair once more and grinning at the sight of the place. The baked goods sell it for her. Heading to the counter, she's quick to place an order of both food and drink alike. Tonight, it's the larges coffee she can handle, vanilla latte to be exact, with the fattest cinnamon roll they have for sale.
*
Red Hood steps in after her, navigating to the counter behind her. "All-Nighter for me Chace," He says with a nod to the staff. "Extra hot." He motions to a table, and pulls out a chair for Lena to sit in. "I will warn you, their cinnamon rolls are almost too rich for words."
*
"Oh," she frowns at that new, taking her seat carefully and slipping in closer to the table. "I often don't like rich sweets. Hopefully the middle isn't too soaked in icing." In all this perfection, it was honestly a downer. "Well, I'll eat the bottom parts and you can have the top if that's the case. Fair?" She suggests with a hopeful smile. She even bats her lashes his way.
*
"I'll eat any part that you don't," Jason says, dropping himself into the chair across from her and turning sideways slightly to lean back. "I think that is a fair deal personally. "So Lena, you say you want to like Gotham, any particular reason you feel pulled to our fair city to the point of doubting your senses?"
*
"I'm stubborn." She admits, resting her arms atop the chair. She pauses, a bit soaked, and carefully removes her jacket. She's slow with her motions, her arm patched up along with a spot on her throat. Once it's on the back of her chair, she crosses her arms on the surface and leans over casually. "I like a challenge and this place offers it. There's a lot of strong personalities here. Like I told you earlier, some parts of it just feel comfortable."
*
Red Hood's gaze is very careful and deliberate. He looks at her wounds and furrows his brow. "Ouch, how did you get those?" He says, a surprised sound in his voice. "Did one of your aquisitions involve a big cat?" He leans in to match her, a disarming smile on his face. "Looks like it. Gotham has its fair share of strong personalities. Some of them are just plain crazy."
*
"Hmm? I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Something went wrong, it got dangerous. But that's Gotham, too, right?" She asks, skirting away from a solid answer. At least it wasn't a lie, exactly. "Oh, I believe it. I've read the news. Gotham's famous, but reading and seeing it are two different things, right?" It's then, in this setting, that he can see how tired the girl actually is. "I'll probably leave in the next few days. You know how contract work is. You do your job, you move to the next paycheck."
*
Jason's gaze softens as he looks at her, seeing the fatigue in her. "Did you get a doctor to take a look at it?" He says quietly, sounding genuinely concerned. "Least you could do is bill your client for extra dangerous work." He gives her another disarming smile. "You think you might be coming back to Gotham again soon? Lots of work up in these parts. Lots of jobs probably on the market. I know a few people who are always looking for a good contract worker." If she knew the half of it…
*
"They're fine. I'm healing, that's all that matters." She shakes her head. "Ah, they're not the type of people you ask /more/ money from. I agreed, I do my job." She glances at her arm, pulling her sleeve down to cover up some of the dressings. "Maybe it's time I take a hint, Jason. I've been told a couple times to get out of this city. Maybe I should." She sits up, allowing their drinks to be sat down, the roll between the both of them. Cradling her bowl like mug in her hands, she drinks in the heat and blows across its top, attempting to cool it down before taking a sip. "Oh, this is really good."
*
"What did I say?" Jason says as she drinks the coffee. "To quote a famous TV Detective, Damn Fine cup of coffee." He takes a drink of his own, seeming to thaw slightly. "If you are not careful, Gotham will chew you up and spit you out. But every time it punches you, you just have to punch right back. Honestly, it is alot like riding a bull. You have to be just alittle more stubborn than the animal."
*
"So, what you're saying is to go to the guy who threatened to stop me, for good, and…keep riding? Be more stubborn? Not leave?" She asks, her voice genuine, curious. Another sip, she sets it down and digs into the roll. She tests it, finding a bit sweet but thankfully not too much. "Eat," she shares his way. "Just not the middle. I call dibs on the middle."
*
"Yeah basically," Jason says nodding his head, chuckling slightly. "Maybe not completely give up. Find out what he is trying to kick you out of Gotham, and debate the point with him. You know, roughly if you have to. I mean, if you've got a give for something, no reason to not use it." There is no hiding the blush on Jason's cheeks at the moment, though he tries to with another sip of coffee. "So the cinnamon rolls passes muster as well?"
*
"I'll take your advice. Hope I can find him easily." She shrugs, taking another strip of roll. "It's alright. I've had better, but it's nice." Eyeing his face, she quirks a brow. "Why are you blushing, Jason?" Suckling some icing off her finger tips, she reclaims her coffee and sips.
*
"Oh no reason" Jason says, waving his hand and leaning forward again to loom at the cinnamon roll. "Just the coffee putting warmth back in me. And the cute girl licking frosting off her fingers." He snags a second fork and spears some of the sweet bread deftly. "Come here you…" He mutters before shoving it into his mouth.
*
"Oh, easily excited, huh?" She teases, taking another drink and waiting for him to claim some of the roll before digging back in. She doesn't use a fork. "Does the cold bother you?" She asks conversationally. "I mean, does it ever get warm in this city? I can't stand the heat, personally. Not very well anyway. /Briefly/, like hot springs. But the sun? Muggy weather?" She shudders at that.
*
He lets the easily excited comment go with a shrug, attempting to look innocent. "It gets alittle balmy in the summer," Jason nods, washing the cinnamon roll down with more coffee. "The cool air from the waterfront keeps things from getting too terrible. Of course, it's raining every other day, but that isn't an issue for me. Prefer moderate temperatures myself. I'm out working in it most days and nights, so I can't not have an opinion on the weather. The cold isn't bad as long as I am fully bundled against it."
*
Lena doesn't press the fun-making. Instead, she nods, ripping when it's her turn into the roll. "I lost my winter coat the other night. It got ruined, actually. Do you know a place around here that sells nice jackets?" Twas the season, after all. "You work days and nights? What type of contracting do you do, exactly?"
*
Red Hood shrugs. "Sometimes Construction," He explains simply. "Sometimes security. Even do alittle personal training every now and then. I had a weird upbringing, so I have a smattering of different skill sets. I could point you to a few places. That depends on how nice you are going for. Ritzy and fancy, or practical?"
*
"Oh, ok. I just assumed construction. I got it. Jack of all trades, then." Another bite, she cleans off her fingers much like she had before. Following after with a napkin, she sips from her coffee and gently pushes the plate his way. Offering him the center of the roll. "Practical. I need something sturdy. I have a style I like, so hopefully I can replace it."
*
"Then you will be wanting the backpacking and hiking store on 5th and Bayberry," Jason says, pointing lazily in a general direction. "Place is called Happy Trails. Just tell the how cold you are going to need, and they will hook you up." He watches her clean her fingers and blushes again slightly. "I thought you called the center there?"
*
"I'm feeling nice." She shrugs, drinking down more coffee. "Besides, you didn't lie about the coffee. And if I find a new jacket? All the better. It's another way of saying thanks." Resting back, she sighs. "Serious business, girl giving up the center of a cinnamon roll. Consider yourself special."
*
"Never doubted that," Jason says with a chuckle, descending on the pastry like a hawk on an unsuspecting mouse. He savors the treat with an almost playful smile. "I am simply glad I could help. Maybe change your opinion of Gotham abit in the process."
*
"Depends on what happens when I talk to that guy." She admits, nursing her drink until it's all gone. Leaving nothing but residue, she sets the mug down and sighs contently. "Why do you want me to change my opinion on Gotham?"
*
Red Hood shrugs. "It's my home," He admits in a very matter of factly tone. "No one wants to hear their home all slagged off. Also because if you don't like it…then you may not want to come back. That would be a depressing part of reality."
*
Lena looks across the table, looking at Jason's face attentively. Silent, she studies him, trying to rests her eyes on his own. "You sure about that? You hardly know me, Jason."
*
"And you hardly know me," Jason replies very simply. "Yet you let me walk you through the mean streets of Gotham City." He looks back at her with a pleasant face. "Didn't say you'd have to come back to visit me, but always nice to have someone coming by to say Hello now and again. Even if it's just for a short time."
*
"Mmm, true." She chuckles, her arms folding again as she leans forward. "I should get out of here before I regret my actions. I'll catch you around sometime, Jason. Hopefully. Regardless of what happens, I'm sure I'll be in Gotham again at some point. Like you said, this place is full of job opportunities."
*
"And what kind of reactions would you regret?" He asks with a roguish smile, leaning forward over the table. He fishes out a card from his wallet and slides it across the table to her. "Incase you decide to look me up for another coffee."
*
"I have a hotel room and a big bed." She shrugs. "This is getting all too…normal for me." She mutters, looking at the card and pulling it closer. She slips it into her pocket, moving to stand and pull her jacket back on. Her face twists with the motions, especially when she reaches at her collar and pulls her hair free.
*
Red Hood doesn't really say anything to her normality comment, seeming to understand abit. He stands as she does. "Here," he says quietly, helping her fix her collar and hair so she doesn't put to much strain on her arm and shoulder.
*
"You don't have to…" But it was already being done. It's the first time a hint of blush touches her pale cheeks. "Thanks." She murmurs, giving him a glance before pulling away and glaring at nothing. She leaves without another word, walking pass the display windows and down the sidewalk. A couple minutes later, perhaps not even that long, he'll feel his phone go off.
*
Red Hood watches her go with a stone face. If nothing else, maybe he made up for how badly he a treated her on the rooftop. He turns back to his coffee, finishing it and busing all of their dirty dishes when his phone goes off. He reads the text message, conflict playing across his face for a few moments until he replies. "10 mins. I'll be there."