1169/Scenes From An Italian Restaurant

Scenes From An Italian Restaurant
Date of Scene:	14 April 2020
Location:	Pizza Joint
Synopsis:	The codenaming of cats is a difficult matter, it isn't just one of your holiday games. At first you may think I'm as mad as a Hatter when I tell you a cat must have the perfect codename...
Cast of Characters:	Terry O'Neil, Colette O'Connail

---

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Sometimes catch-ups require something more than your typical pizza parlor. This is why Terry suggested this place- he'd read reviews about it but never really had a chance to look into it.

<<Hey, how about here?>> he sent the location tag over text <<See you at 1?>>

Terry decided to arrive at 12. Why? Because Colette was always early, and this time he wanted to be The One Who Was Already There. A little piece of satisfaction in a cruel, cold world. Whether or not that actually happened, however, was still up in the air. You never knew with Colette. What is certain is that Terry walked through those doors percisely at noon on the dot.

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    Colette is, as always, early.

    She arrives at quarter to one, a full forty-five minutes after Terry's arrival, to find him firmly ensconced at a table already replete with grissini and drinks. He has obviously been there a little while. A frown crosses her face as she crosses the room to join him at the table.

    He knows. He now knows how long before scheduled times she habitually turns up. This Will Not Do. She may have to kill him.

    She won't actually kill him.

    "Hey Terry," she says with a smile as she takes her seat. "You said there was news. Is this Titans news? Or Terry and Gar news? Or fuzzy cat-guy news?"

    It's going to be all three. Rather a lot happened in the last few days.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"You always know how to ask the easy questions, don't you?" Terry grins, gesturing to the grisini. "Eat up. They've given me enough of these to make a small model of the leaning tower. Where /have/ you been these past few days? I figure you've been busy as heck. You know... you've never told me what it is you do when you're trying not to get me killed."

He takes a sip of his peach tea, and adds, "I've got a major news dump for you, alright. Stuff I haven't even told Lois yet."

Dun Dun Duuuuun. He needs to ask Donna if he can be the first to break The Truth About Troia to the world, because that would definitely get him some kudos from Perry.

Or maybe get him shipped to a war zone as an aide to a correspondent. You never knew, with Perry.

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    Colette nods her head, gesturing to the waitress and asking for a coke to be brought, then sets to attacking the grissini in a violent and hungry fashion.

    "Trying to /stop/ you getting yourself killed Terry," Colette corrects. "I had to beat up several gangsters so you could find out what happened to your father, remember? Maybe you'll be more able to do that yourself now that you have the whole..." she waves her hand in gesture that couldn't be vaguer. "Thing. Except of course now you hang around with a whole team of Titans and they don't seem very good at tactics so I have to brush spiders off walls and remind archers of the importance of cover." She arches an eyebrow at him. "I'm /trying/ to be a bystander here Terry, you guys are not making it easy."

    The waitress arrives with coke and a menu. Colette opens the menu and downs half the coke. "I'm a student at Met. U. Lit. major. I also work as a TA two days a week at a very weird school." One rather mundane puzzle solved.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Wow, you're a TA? Your students must be in awe or terror," he grins, taking a bite out of a grisini. "A literature student, my word. You're going to have to tell me what the University life is like. I don't have that kind of dosh... yet." Because reporters were such high earners, right? "But, okay, news. Tell me, what do you know of one of the old Titans by the name of Troia?"

Colette O'Connail has posed:
"Oh not really, they mostly think of me as being just a regular TA. I mean there are a couple who know a little bit more." Colette smirks slightly. "Both of them attempted to attack me. It's an odd school. Have you ordered yet? I think I'm going to go for the penne marina. Makes a change from pizza."

    Colette closes the menu and sits back, looking at Terry curiously. "Troia? Greek woman, real name Donna Troy. Expert swordswoman, ridiculously strong. Left the Titans before Doomsday. Took a flight to Canakkale in Northern Turkey, which curiously is the closest city to Hissarlik, which is where the ancient city of Troy stood. She then apparently vanished off the face of the Earth. Why do you ask?"

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"No real reason. She's in New York now. In fact, when I last saw her she took off with Wonder Woman herself," he grins and takes a sip from his drink, "She's back, by the way. It was a whoooole thing. You do remember Raven, right?" Because who could forget? "Well, there was a bit of a get together on Saturday. Caitlin Fairchild was there, Nightwing showed up. The new faces and me. And then Troia walks in and Raven loses. her. shit. We're talking darkness and spookines and she is absolutely LIVID that Troia came back!"

He takes a moment to decide. "The Penne All'Arrabiata, of course!"

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    Colette has a tendency to raise an eyebrow at Terry, and to be frank Terry frequently deserves it. In the scheme of things, this is definitely amongst the most raised he has seen her eyebrow.

    Colette pulls out her phone, and spends a minute tapping out text messages. When she's done, she puts the phone back in her pocket and looks back at Terry. "Well, that'll save me a bit of money," she says. "If they keep coming back on their own I may not have to cancel a vacation. Why was Raven livid? Is it going to be a problem?"

    Colette waves the waitress over again, to give the order. Once pasta has been ordered, she takes a sip of her cola, looking over the rim of her glass at Terry. "If doctor Fairchild asks about me, you know nothing, okay?"

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Oooh, so this is juicy- okay, why would the Doctor ask about you?" Terry grins and takes another sip. "Well, it was going to be a problem. It's a kind of long story, but it appears that Raven has been... fractured? I hope that's the right word, for the last three years or so. We found her on the floor of her room, covered in dust, *spooky*. And then Troia picked up a mirror and next thing we knew, we were inside Raven."

He takes a bite of his grisini and thinks about phrasing. "Figuratively speaking. We were in this gloomy, lugubrious place, and there were multiple color-coded Ravens with exaggerated personality traits, and one of them was missing. It was horribly Jungian. And there was this horrifying enormous demon looming over all of us. We had to rescue another part of Raven that was encased in crystal and we all pretty much almost died... but now Raven is apparently back to her old self again... and it looks like Raven and Troia are a thing."

He steeples his fingers, as one does when dishing out juicy gossip. "And her real name isn't Donna Troy. She's actually..." He drums his fingers on the table. "An Amazon! Wonder Woman's sister, in fact!"

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    Colette blinks a few times during the explanations. "That sounds like a lot of nonsense," she tells him. "Did you drink anything strange just before all this happened?"

    Colette raises a hand in a stop gesture. "No. Actually it makes sense. Her shadow. Remember I said she had a shadow in the darkness? That could have been something to do with a fractured secondary personality expressing itself in sorcerous terms. " Or an entirely /different/ personality shadowing her, but Colette hasn't heard of Trigon yet.

    "Doctor Fairchild may ask you about me," Colette says. "Because I went to her and told her she should go back to the tower because Gar needed her. And it's hard to have a conversation like that without raising some questions. I would prefer any answers to those questions are limited to 'Colette's a friend' type things, okay?"

    Colette gives a shake of her head. "Wonder Woman's sister? Huh. Well I guess that sort of makes sense, but that's... well even Nightwing didn't seem to know that. And you met him too, huh? Sounds like things are coming together."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Oh, yeah. He's the tall, dark and silent type, I guess." He raises an eyebrow "A-mazing butt, just between us. But I can't say I have a good read on him- then again, all bats seem to have some sort of personality smokescreen." He taps his glass with the grisini, "Well, you /are/ a friend, so I won't be lying to her. If she asks more, I'll say you had an unhealthy interest in my relationship with Gar." He winks.

"Oh, yeah. The cat is out of the bag. I sort of transformed in front of Gar and... and he kind of fainted on me. But then we had a talk afterwards and I said the 'l' word and he didn't fly out the window..."

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    "Yeah, he is an amazing butt, isn't he?" Colette agrees. No wait, she said 'is', not 'has', that's odd. There is a distinct note of contempt in her voice there, for some reason.

    "Look, I'm not expecting her to ask you anything particularly... you know. It's just my line of questioning did seem to kind of raise some suspicions. The woman is smart. I had to play on certain... you know. Triggers. To ensure she realized how important it was to go and see Gar and Raven. I figured the best way to do that with her was to be pretty open. I didn't tell her anything other than that Gar was a friend, but she kept asking me if there was anything I wasn't telling her. So she might ask a few things that don't need to be answered, you know?"

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"D'uh, Colette, you can easily say that the thing you weren't talking about was my secret identity. Which is now out in the open to the Titans. Don't worry, if she asks me about you, I'll just say you are my friend and confidante. And secret Cyrano de Bergerac." He grins toothily. "Oh... I am not proud of this. Wonder Woman was there. And I'm sure you know what I think of her." The gazillion posters in Terry's apartment speak loud enough for him. "She... er... gave me her cloak. And I fainted."

He pauses. "And then I guess Raven teleported me and, according to Kian, it looked like hellscape tentacles, so /he/ fainted. I guess she must have one of those types of sense of humor because I woke up in Gar's bed, sandwiched between the green dude and the bird-man." He smirks and sips his tea.

Colette O'Connail has posed:
"I didn't mention you at all, so that's not likely to really answer her questions." Colette sips her coke again, lost in thought.

    "I think it'll be more uh... well I suspect she was wondering... No. She said I was taking a lot on my shoulders. I'm not sure exactly what she suspects, but I was talking a lot about team dynamics, what it feels like to lose people, things like that. It's obvious she thought this wasn't exactly a typical discussion with a TA. "

    As explanations go, it's not terribly helpful. Obviously Colette doesn't want Terry saying anything about her having powers and all the things connected to that, but it's not really clear how that's linked to what she had just said.

    "Wonder Woman's cloak, huh? Are you going to E-Bay it?" Colette gives Terry a broad grin. She suspects the answer to that would be a slightly less polite version of 'not a chance'.

    "And you are no longer keeping a secret from Gar which you should not have been keeping in the first place, because like I told you before, when you have a problem with turning fuzzy and your best friend turns fuzzy, it's really /dumb/ not to talk to them about it."

    "And Raven's old self has a sense of humor. Well that's good to know."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Terry frowns a little, and tilts his head, "Where exactly do you TA at? I don't think you've told me the name of this school... you said it was /very weird/." He sips his tea, wondering just how strange it was, for Cait to be there.

At he mention of auctioning Wonder Woman's cloak, he gasps and widens his eyes, "Heathen. Sacrilege. I'd rather have a bonobo ape going through meth withdrawal give me a full brazilian with a bolo knife than having the knowledge that I actually sold something belonging to Wonder Woman!" and there's an imagery for you.

"Okay okay okay, you were right. And the real reason I wasn't telling him is... you are honestly going to think it stupid. Which it was." He rolls his eyes. "When Gar first saw me in full feline form, he said the cat was handsome." He looks at Colette. "He'd never said something like that about me... okay, so I was jealous of myself. Go ahead and mock me."

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    "Do you ever listen to yourself?" Colette can't help herself from giving a short laugh. "The cat is you, Terry. Not only are you jealous of yourself, but you are jealous because he called you handsome, and you think he hasn't called you handsome. That's kinda... That's kind of Terry."

    "Sorry though, can't tell you where I'm a TA. You will learn, or figure it out, probably sooner rather than later. "Colette gives an apologetic shrug. "Captain Marvel specifically asked me not to mention the place to you. I promised." Terry will have noticed this about Colette by now - she takes promises very seriously.

    The conversation is interruped by the arrival of food. Glorious, fresh, fragrant food. Colette thanks the waitress with a smile and leans over her plate to smell the herby scent. She looks blissful. "The smells are as good as the reviews, let's see if it meets the taste test, too."

    She spears a penne, and eats it thoughtfully. "It does."

    Colette reaches for the pepper grinder and adds a generous portion of ground pepper to her plate. As she grinds vigorously, she asks "Is Nightwing back to lead things? Because if he is, keep an eye on him. I know he's meant to have been this great leader and everything, but I find his decision-making highly questionable recently."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Hey, you never know how you'll react when a guy you really like compliments another guy. Even if that other guy is you and he doesn't know it. I mean, I really kept asking myself if he liked the cat more because he was more muscular, or because he was ..." do NOT say pink "Salmon-colored, or had a tail. Come on, he's never given me a compliment before, and you expect me not to overthink it? I'm Terry. I overthink /everything/."

Especially- "Ohoho... she asked you not to tell me? Man, that hurts. I'll have to find out where she lives and leave a hairball in her boot overnight. I can do that now, you know." He pauses with the glass halfway to his lips, "Actually, I don't know if I get hairballs. God, I hope I don't. But if I do, she's getting one."


When the food arrives, Terry goes into sampling his own penne. It is quite good. But there's something missing- dinner-side entertainment to go with the food. He briefly considers a grisini duel to avenge the indignity, goodness knows there are enough grisini, but chooses against it in the end.

"I don't think Nightwing is back to leading. He wasn't there for the morning after we went inside Raven, so I assume he must have gone wherever it is that Bats go to deal with their psychological trauma. A belfry of some sort or another. They don't strike me as the kind of people who are into 'sharing', if you get my drift."

The penne is good, indeed, and Terry hmmms "Gotta get an order of this for Gar. He said he might join, but he had things to do first so he might not. If he doesn't, I'll just get a carry-out for him." He mulls over what Colette says, and responds "Well, maybe his decision making has been affected because he works in Gotham? That city does something to you. Harley talks about it as if it were alive. Sometimes I wonder."

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    Colette is enjoying her penne and mostly lets Terry get on with doing the talking. It's not as if she's shy of expressing her opinions, but she's hungry.

    Also Colette enjoys eating. Particularly when other people are around. There have been a few times lately when other people weren't around where for one reason or another, she hasn't bothered with eating. Once or twice, just lately, in the privacy of her own apartment, she has experimented with not breathing, too. When people are around though? That she can do such things is not something she would like people to be aware of, if it can possibly be avoided. This is one of the reasons she enjoys eating with people. So that they know she's human, which she absolutely is.

    Also, she has taste buds. Good food is a pleasure.

    "He came to visit me," Colette says between mouthfuls of pasta. "Nightwing. Fucking idiot broke into my garage and berated me for nosing into his business, which was rather ironic all things considered. He was very rude, for no particular reason."

    "I'll be honest. For about half a second, I did consider just killing him. But I didn't relish the idea of cleaning up the mess." She makes a face, as if the food didn't taste good after all. "Also I didn't want Gar being upset."

    "I know there's the whole trauma thing relating to the Titans there, and what you say about Gotham may be true. But frankly?" Colette says with a shrug. "Apparently Nightwing is a dick."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"I'm sure we all have our dick moments. I mean, come on, I just spent two weeks hiding a major development from the guy you could call my boyfriend except that word hasn't been spoken. That's a major dick move." He points his fork at Colette, "I mean, seriously. At the time I thought I had a good reason to keep it to myself, but in hindsight I could have hurt him, badly. That's dick, all over."

He sips his tea, and exhales. "The Titans are getting back together, it's certainly moving in that direction. And now I'm not just reporting the story but I'm part of it as well. I am going to have to be very careful about how I report things so I can stay ethical."

He pauses, and then looks up at Colette after thinking of something. "I also have to figure out what I'm going to do about the whole relationship thing. I mean, if I have a secret identity," he says quietly, looking around. The place is deserted at this hour, still a bit ahead of the lunch rush, "It means I need to figure out my dynamic with Gar. I plan on only being the cat when needed. Unless Gar thinks it's less of a risk to me if people thinks he's dating his team-mate instead of the squishy reporter. In which case it means I have to split my time equally..." he pauses. "You don't happen to know someone who has an actual secret identity you could ask for guidance here? This is all new territory and, wouldn't you know it, it's like the entirety of the new Titans all have public identities except... well, you know." He makes a bow-and-arrow motion.

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    "Maybe you're right, maybe he was just having a bad day." Colette gestures towards Terry with her fork, which has a penne impaled upon it. "He's also arrogant and reckless, though. He knew nothing about me. But he assured himself that he was just fine. Instead of you know, knocking on the door or whatever, he seemed to have decided that a little bit of housebreaking was the best way to approach me. I think he was attempting to intimidate me, God knows why."

    "This isn't the first time he has done something I consider unwise. He has a protege of some description. I do not know the details. However I do know that he handed files on the Titans to this protege, and told him he could lead them. I guess it didn't occur to him to consult with Gar about that first. I am dubious of this protege's leadership abilities, too. Perhaps Nightwing thinks the Titans are his personal play-thing."

    "You, on the other hand?" Colette smirks at Terry. "You're just a Terry. It wasn't a dick move, it was more like you're freaked out by things and haven't had time to think things through. And you don't listen to me, which is always a mistake."

    "If by some remote chance you will listen this time - figure out your dynamic with Gar... /with/ Gar. Talk it over and work it out between you. But no, I don't think I know anyone with a secret identity."

    She looks thoughtful. "Well I guess Troia does, if she turns out to be secretly Wonder Woman's sister."

    The thoughtfulness deepens. "Oh. And me, I guess."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Wait. Wait. A protege?" Terry blinks slowly, "He just handed files on everybody he knew at the Titans to a mini-me and told him he could be the leader?" The redhead sits back and frowns. "That... isn't how it works. Just because /a/ bat led the Titans doesn't mean that anyone who wears the mantle is automatically going to do so. Where /is/ this protege, anyways?" He chews on his food for a few seconds, in silence, and then says "This is going to be interesting."


He nods slowly, "No, no, I've learned my lesson, I plan on talking this through with Gar. I guess I could talk to Tro-" he pauses, and looks at Colette. "... you? Well, yeah, but your secret identity is sort of based on /not/ using your powers, you know? It's a little different. Actually kind of the opposite of what I'm doing."

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    Colette stops utilizing her fork as a gesturing instrument and resumes use of it as an item of cutlery. The skewered penne is surrendered to the mercies of her teeth, and she chews thoughtfully.

    As the penne is consumed, she decides not to say any more about Damian for now. The kid has a lot to learn and while she's concerned that Damian really doesn't understand people well enough to be ready to lead, she sees potential in him. She rather hopes that the provocation of their last conversation will drive him to prove himself, rather than assuming things will be just handed to him.

    Perhaps that's another thing she can blame Nightwing for. Offering to hand Damian the Titans isn't exactly making him work for it, and as she'd said to Damian that day in the library, nothing worth having comes without working for it.

    "True, I don't wear a cape and go around calling myself something silly like Shadow Woman or something. " Colette chases penne around her plate in a distracted fashion. "The downside is sometimes some fucking idiot calls you a ninja." She looks up at Terry with a teasing grin.

    "Maybe I should be ready with a disguise of some kind," she says thoughtfully. "I mean mostly I'd just prefer to avoid needing one. But in a way, Colette O'Connail is my secret identity, isn't it? As well as my regular one, I mean. There's the Colette O'Connail you first met, who's me, and is just a normal regular woman. Then there's the one you've seen a glimpse of, who is something else. "

    She stops playing with her food and skewers another penne. "On the other hand, for all you know I'm secretly a Martian and my real name is Kal'at. However that's highly unlikely as it would be beyond coincidence that my parents chose the name Colette for me."

    Colette puts the penne in her mouth and chews, not really thinking about how paradoxical what she just said seems.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"I guess you could always call yourself Eyeshadow and wear an obscene amount of mascara as your mask," Terry smirks, "Because you /are/ a ninja. You are one with the shadows. Think about /that/," he says, pointing a finger at her and grinning. "You are not the kind to wear capes, anyways, I see you more on the black satin jumpsuit with a tasteful off-the-shoulder flap that isn't quite a cape, a little fashion without the tripping hazard."

"I doubt you'd be a martian. For one, you are not bald enough. And second, not buff enough, unlike the Manhunter. Now there's..." he pasuses anjd gives Colette a stare, "No. I don't have a /thing/ for green guys, before you say anything. And you will. Don't deny it, I know just where exactly that ferret of a mind of yours wants to go." He takes a sip, "Kal'at."

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    "Martians can adopt any form they wish to, Terry. " Colette raises an eyebrow again. It's dangerous when she raises her eyebrow this often in a conversation. "What makes you think he actually looks like that? Just think what kind of secret identity /he/ could have. And you totally have a thing for green guys. If I ever meet the Hulk, I'm introducing you."

    "Also, I'm not a ninja." Colette's doing an impressive job of polishing her plate as she speaks. "If I was going to become a stupid super-hero, I'd wear some practical body-armor, not a black satin jumpsuit. Because unlike a certain Manhunter, I cannot make my body super-dense, and would prefer not to be fucking /shot/, thanks. Also, if you try giving me fashion advice again, I may be forced to kill you."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Terry laughs, "Nah, the Hulk's way too massive. I may make random remarks, but really Gar's just perfect for me." He grins, and then he laughs as Colette threatens him. "Fine. Fine. So will you be the one giving me fashion advice? Because I need to figure out my uniform. I'm not a bruiser and I'm obviously more of an acrobat type than those guys who just plow through the front lines and take damage, so I can't afford to get weighed down." He sits back on the chair and tap-tap-taps his fingers against the corner of the table. "I've got a few thoughts on a codename, too. Troia said something that's been rattling around my brain for a bit."

Colette O'Connail has posed:
"Acrobat, hmm?" Colette looks thoughtful. "Basically any armor you have is going to limit you, though you should consider a chest-plate. I feel like stealth is not going to be your thing, despite cats being basically furry ninjas themselves. So in terms of looks, consider the message rather than the practicalities. Something bright and distracting might be the way to go, and would mark you out as unpredictable compared to the normal tactical bodysuit look. Spandex for flexibility, with kevlar panels in places were reduced flexibility won't hurt your mobility. You should go for a jacket with metal ballistic inserts if you could bare it, but ceramic plate might do in a pinch. I'm not really up on the cutting edge here, so talk with your fellow Titans and see if they can help you out. I can help you with the funding if you need that.

    Colette looks up from her plate, tilts her head, and gives Terry a look that says 'I know this isn't going to wash, but I'm saying it anyway. "Also, a helmet. Head injuries are the biggest single danger to you, and skulls are remarkably fragile. However you idiot super-heroes almost never wear head-protection, so presumably you will refuse on the basis that it would be unfashionable."

    Colette finishes the last of her penne, pushes the plate to the side and sits back comfortably in her seat. "Let's see if they do a good tiramisu here. Things are always rattling around in your brain, Terry. It's because there's so much free space up there. What's your thought?"

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Terry smirks, "Nah, the poor things are just getting lost in unfamiliar territory. Good suggestions there... I'm not fully averse to helmets, but they've got to work just right. Remember, my ears are up here," he taps his head on the spot where his ears are as a feline, "Regular helmets squish your ears on the side, and that's fine when you're a human, but top-side ears would get scrunched down and it'd /hurt/. So maybe a custom-made helmet that took my head shape into account. Maybe amplified the Cheshire cat motif? It's worth looking into, but that's custom design territory and can get pricey. If you know of anyone that does that kind of gear, let me know... because the only one I think in the Titans who rely on custom body gear are the Bats, and I don't think they'd refer their toymaker to non-bat people."

"Well, Troia quoted a line from the Jabberwock poem. And I realized... I am the Cheshire cat. I really should have a name that reflects that, no? I asked, but apparently there's already someone using the name 'Cheshire' and it's very much not a good person, so that line is closed." He pauses, and thinks, "If I am the actual Cheshire cat, though, I wonder if I could sue for infri-- no, nevermind, bad guys don't fight in court. In any case, I highlighted a couple of words..."

He takes out a scrap of paper from his pocket and hands it over to Colette. Scrawled in Terry's inimitable* handwriting are the following words:

MIMSY(crossed out) SLITHY(crossed out) GYRE FRUMIOUS BANDERSNATCH (in chicken scratch under it: "Dangerous animal!") VORPAL SNICKER-SNACK ("Catchy but I'd sound like a fucking dessert bar!")


*Footnote: Inimitable because you'd need at least two gallons of caffeine before you could write like that.

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    "I have so much experience in commissioning costumes for super-heroes," Colette says with wry amusement etched on her face. "If you can't order it from Amazon, I have no idea. Talk to your Titan buddies, they are sure to know. I'm just offering to help with the funding here, because I have a bit of money, and you're a struggling coffee-boy at the Daily Planet. "

    Colette takes the piece of paper and studies it, straining to read the caffeine-corrupted handwriting. "No. Fucking No. Sounds like someone who rotates very fast. No, really, what were you thinking. Possibly, but a bit super-villainy. Hell no. No, wait. Back up. Why would you even do that, Terry? Dessert Bar. Really"

    Colette looks up at Terry, shakes her head, and starts tearing up the piece of paper.

    After a moment it becomes clear that she is not just tearing it up willy-nilly, but has some pattern to the tearing in mind. Scraps of the scrap scatter across the table top as she works around the sheet, tearing more and more off and shedding words one by one, until there's only a small sub-scrap left in her fingers.

    Colette hands the small fragment of paper back to Terry, now bearing a single word.

     'Vorpal'

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Terry looks at it and huhs. It's a good word, and one of those Wonderland words whose meaning was elusive. It could apply to weapons, yes, but not in the way that common parlance had assumed when the word ported over to this world thanks to the girl who had the adventures. Over here, people think it is something that pertains to the incredible sharpness of something, whereas in actual correct Wonderlandish it could be more correctly said to mean 'exhibiting glominous and significamundial qualities.' It was, to be frank, a very good word and he can't imagine why he didn't single it out himself.

But.

"Huh, so what is wrong with Bandersnatch? Also, let's not get dessert here. I know where the best tiramisu in New York is, couple of blocks from here. We can put in a take-out order for Gar here and pick it back after dessert. You game?"

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    Colette gives the thought serious consideration, then nods her head in agreement. "I'd be game to try the tiramisu here just in case it turns out to be better, but on the other hand if you know where there's a great tiramisu to be had, why risk it?

    Colette gives a small nod and a smile to the waitress, asking for the check in that minimalistic yet somehow entirely clear fashion that some people seem to be able to almost miraculously pull off.

    "Terry. I am going to say this only once, so please try to listen and understand. Bandersnatch is an awful name for a superhero in so many ways I cannot be bothered to list them all. However, if you start calling yourself Bandersnatch, I will destroy you and all you hold dear."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Message heard clear and received! My treat-" Terry says, sliding his card over. "No, I insist. I want you to know I appreciate what you've done, what you do. And the fact that you haven't ended my mortal shell in spite of tremendous provocation. Let me at least show a little bit of appreciation."

He grins, "I mean, I sort of owe my start with Gar to your advice. And Lois'. And Harley Quinn's." He pauses. "When you say that last bit it just... lays there, doesn't it?"

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    Colette just nods her head at the offer to pay. She knows better than to make a thing about it. Especially as she committed to helping him with costume costs.

    "Harley Quinn. Yeah. What a name. You think her parents had that in mind, in some twisted way? You have to introduce us sometime. " She tilts her head thoughtfully. "She didn't complain about me calling her 'dear reformed murderclown' when I texted her using your phone, did she? I mean I added the 'reformed' bit so she'd know I wasn't being mean, but it did occur to me later that it might have bothered her even then. Trauma and all that." Villain psychology 101, Colette style.

    "You should introduce us some time. I promise not to ninja her if she doesn't try to baseball bat me. "

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Terry hands the card over to the server, who promptly goes to charge it. The redhead smirks, "Oh, I don't think she took offense. Harley is a funny one- you know she's actually going to teach me how to fight." He pauses. And then reddens a bit. "Of course... he sort of set a condition I need to meet before she agrees to teach me. But... I think I've got it handled."

Totally.

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    "Teach you how to fight?" Colette looks thoughtful. "Hmm. I mean you could have asked me, but to be honest she's probably a better bet for the whole athletic fighting style thing."

    As Terry pays for the meal, Colette stacks plates and tidies up the table a little, just to make serving person tasks easier. She can be quite thoughtful when she's not planning bloody slaughter.

    The slight reddening of Terry's cheeks is not lost on Colette during this, alas.

    "Spill. What's the condition?"

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Terry clears his throat.

"Well. To celebrate her getting a crap-ton of cash, legit, she decided to buy everybody presents. And." He takes a sip of his peach tea, trying to prolong the moment. Not enough tea. In the world.

"So. She bought this... diamond-encrusted... speedo. With... real diamonds. And her condition is I have to model it for Gar before she'll teach me."

He is now at full red.

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    Colette's reaction is not as obviously amused or mocking as Terry might have expected. In the main she sits through the stilted confession without a flicker of an expression crossing her face. She studies the redness on his closely.

    Colette sniffs, gets to her feet, and gives a "Thanks!" and a wave to the restaurant staff, then nods her head towards the door in a 'let's go' kind of way.

    "I think I like her already," Colette says as she heads for the door.