11991/Theme of the Crime: Party on!...responsibly

Theme of the Crime: Party on!...responsibly
Date of Scene:	13 July 2022
Location:	Folkvangr
Synopsis:	Costumes are worn, money is exchanged, and a hat is shredded
Cast of Characters:	Thomas Blake, Zinda Blake, Michael Hannigan, Tara Tsabedze
Tinyplot:	Theme_of_the_Crime

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Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake walks around the restaurant and fairly beams. The sponsors seem curious and delighted by the viking motif. This is going to be sweet. He grabs an appetizer off a tray... discovers it is filled with salmon roe and hurriedly ducks behind a potted plant. He comes out beaming again. He nudges Pet, the producer and says, "A hundred says Hannigan won't wear the hat."

Pete knocks back a shot of whisky, "He's wearing that fucking hat. We have a contract."

Thomas looks dubious.

"You think your contract scares him?"

"He better be scared. Our lawyers could scare the Joker."

"Pete, scaring the Joker is not a good idea."

Zinda Blake has posed:
One of the potential investors is Blackhawk Transport. Against the better judgement of -some- board members, Lady Blackhawk is here representing the company.

Zinda Blake is dressed as, well, Lady Blackhawk... complete with WWII Blackhawk uniform, knee boots, flight jacket, cap, and a lot less skirt than would strictly be appropriate for a real business meeting. The blonde looks like she just fell off of a recruitment poster, and for good reason.

Zinda walks in with a lot of boisterous laughter and immediately heads for the bar. She had 2 rules: don't get drunk and don't start any fights. Getting drunk is a -hobby- for her, and the operative word in the back half of that statement is 'start'.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
While CATMAN has a a motif of tanned material and -well the costume has CLAWS. The Music Master outfit has more of a mix between minstrel and robin hood. Complete with that hat that is a bit pointed towards the front. They gave up on the extremely long feathers at least. Who'd have thunk feathers was the budget killer for the costume department when it came to replacement hats?

Either way, this party was sprung up last minute. There was little planning involved. And even though Pete may have expressed his desire for Nick to wear the hat of f-, the message was relayed to Nick via Wade.

And Wade has READ that contract.

So into the ornate red and black attire Nick goes, cape and all. The hat was brought along, but it is currently in a pocket. As Nick holds the door open for his plus one, it is quite apparent just who lost the bet.

Tara Tsabedze has posed:
This wasn't Tara's usual sort of thing. Let's be honest, when you look like a bipedal panther, complete with clawed hands, parties aren't something you usually get to invited to. Wearing a bright purple and orange dashiki with golden trim, and a matching kaba skirt over her legs. Her slender feet are adorned in purple slippers with golden threads to match her attire.

As Nick pauses to hold the door open, her tail flicks gently behind her as she looks him over, then her yellow eyes shift to look inside. Emergency plus one, clearly, and his attire makes her smile even if she knows nothing about the bet. Stepping inside, her movements are graceful, fluid, clearly a dancer or perhaps it is merely the grace of the feline. "I'm going to assume this is normal for you," she states as she passes him, eyeing the costume once more, then allowing herself to take in the restaurant interior in detail.

Thomas Blake has posed:
Witness Thomas Blake, about to be the first person to ever be torn in two by his instincts. He'd seen the feline fatale before -at Sturgis. Attacking demons prevented him from meeting -Tara then. On the other hand there's something about that spokes person? model? cosplayer? Whatever. The blonde gets his attention first, having heard tales about Lady Blackhawk since he was a kid.

"Ka-ching!" he says as he passes Pete, who is already on the phone with Mike's manager. The hat wearing at parties was in the contract.

Thomas pads up to the bar and slides in next to the blonde. He nods at her a moment before pulling his mask and smiles. "I just won a bet for $100 bucks. Can I share my good fortune by buying you a drink, beautiful? I'm a supah-villain." He says it half joking. She is beautiful, and tall, and he feels much like the women he was with of late look like scrawny kids next to her.

Zinda Blake has posed:
Zinda Blake has managed to find herself a beer, holding the longneck in a practiced, 3-finger grip and taking a deep swig. Turning at the sound of the voice, the blonde flashes a grin and laughs. "Supah-villain? Careful, sugah, Ah shoot supah-villains fer target practice." Her accent is Deep South: Georgia, to be specific.

Flashing him that broad grin, she offers a gloved hand. "Lady Blackhawk, but y'all can call me Zinda." She looks left and right, then asks. "Say, you know who's in charge of this shindig? Ah figure Ah should hear their piece b'fore Ah get too drunk."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Nick gives a bit of a smile. "The perils of the entertainment industry." He responds, voice low, but betraying a hint of amusement just for the more sensitive ears. "Sometimes we're called to dance even when we don't want to." He glances over to Thomas approaching a blonde and cracks a slight smile, "...Although some elements make these things tolerable." Judging from the shout from the larger man, someone unwisely bet against his manager's understanding of situational clauses.

Once Tara's safely inside, Nick steps forward, letting the door close behind him, he walks alongside Tara, observing Pete on the phone. "I apologize in advance for that man over there, he's probably upset I didn't wear the damn hat." He tugs the mentioned item out of his pocket to show Tara. "We did cut down on the amount of time I have to wear it by destroying it early in each episode." He shakes his head, moving his hand to put the hat back into the pocket.

Tara Tsabedze has posed:
Slowly looking around the room, Tara's eyes return to Nick as he steps inside. She hears everything, almost literally, that is going on in the room... not because she wants to, but because it's part of what she is.

As he talks she offers him a smile, eyes moving to look at the man Nick indicates, and then back to look at the hat as it appears.

Before he can get the thing back in his pocket however, her smile grows even more broad and she reaches over to take the hat, just snatches it away. "This is the most hideous thing I have seen in a long time," she informs him rather cheerfully, then immediately uses her claws to shred the hat like it's some sort of cat toy. "Consider this the first part of the episode.... now, do you think they have any green tea here?"

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake takes the gloved hand. He shakes it hard, as he would a man's and is surprised at the strength of the grip. "I'm Thomas -Catman. I admire your commitment to the role, Lady Blackhawk. I'm supposed to schmooze these assholes and get sponsors for the show but... I think I might just concentrate on Blackhawk. They make such a pleasing presentation. Barkeep, I'll have what the Lady Blackhawk is having and her drinks are on me."

Thomas looks back at Mike and Tara. He waves his hand at them.

"Hey let me introduce you to the Music Master. Yo! Will Scarlet, over heah! Come meet Lady Blackhawk!" They got a hell of an actress here. Accent is a little much.

Zinda Blake has posed:
Zinda Blake takes another pull from the bottle, blue eyes bright at Thomas' reaction. "Thomas *Catman*? What the hell kinda name is Thomas Catman, anyway?" She shrugs, turning to face him more fully. The flight jacket is mostly open, at least enough to spot the twin holster rig she's wearing under it.

Zinda points while still holding the neck of the bottle. "So you're th' one in charge? No schmoozin' required, sugah. Ah'll jus' hand over mah' check right now so we can get to th' serious drinkin'."

He waves, and Zinda looks over to the ones he is waving over as she reaches into her jacket to search for an envelope.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Feeling the fabric of the hat slip out of his hand, Nick glances down to the stolen hat. The assessment Tara gives is spot on to which the performer nods in agreement. His expression brightens as Tara causes for the obscene accessory to meet its fate. He laughs, taking back the pieces of the hat. Well. There's no guilting him into wearing it now. "I'm glad I asked you along."

He glances around to the mention of green tea. "I'm not sure if they carry that, but we can have a look."

Hearing Thomas's raised voice calling him deliberatley by the wrong character name, Nick looks back over to Catman and the identified Lady Blackhawk. A hand holding half of the hat lifts up, giving Thomas a wave. Nick looks back over to Tara, offering an arm to her, "I know you might have seen him before at Sturgis but, have you spoken to Catman before?"

Tara Tsabedze has posed:
Without much care really, Tara ensures the hat is nothing more than scraps of material that drift to the floor and are immediately forgotten. It was an ugly hat, and should she see another one like it, it will meet the same fate.

"That thing deserves a viking funeral and to /never/ be placed on your head again," she snorts softly before looking toward the voice that called out. Her right ear twitches and her tail flicks rather violently.

The wrong name, but the face of the man calling was some what familiar. With the arm offered, she is /very/ careful in taking it. No need to stab him with a claw or shred his costume after all, but these were always risks with her hands.

"I do recall seeing him at Sturgis," she offers, voice soft and bathed heavily in an East African accent. When they are close enough, she extends her hand toward this Thomas Catman, yes she heard that. "A pleasure to meet you. I am K'Tara Tsebedze, Kivuli of Bast. You may call me Tara." Was that giving permission, or an order, hard to tell.

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake returns the greeting, adding a hello, please tameetcha in passable Swahili for Tara. He makes the introductions. "Listen just call me Thomas or Tom. Call me Tommy and you die." He winks. Then places Mike and Tara's drinks on his tab. He turns back to Lady Blackhawk. "Serious drinking? What the hell are we drinking this for. Barkeep, bring out the sipping whisky! Let's get this party started. I see the fun is already here!!" He lets out a 'Rahr!"

Zinda Blake has posed:
Zinda Blake manages to find the check, although it's not in an envelope after all. She hands it to Thomas, and it bears the signature Zinda Blake. "Thomas it is, then." The blonde introduces herself as well. "Zinda Blake, with Blackhawk Transport." And yeah, she's either really in character or starting to believe the act herself.

"Sippin' whiskey? Careful, sugah. Whiskey's jus' a couple steps away from moonshine, an' that strikes a real sentimental chord with this gal."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"Well. That WOULD be in theme with this place." Nick admits. He watches the careful placement of the claw, making sure not to rush her. He's pretty attached to his arm as well. He's less concerned about the costume. Heck, wardrobe might find it a breath of fresh air to repair something of his that WASN'T hat-like.

Nick nods over to the pair at the bar. The introductions are passed around and he nods at his point of being introduced. "Nick Drago. You can call me Nick if you'd like. Either way, much less of a mouthful than the character name."

Nick looks over to Tara before he spots an establishment menu and snags it, flipping over to the non alcoholic drink menu. He frowns and looks over to Tara. "...The only tea they have is black tea. Do you have a second preference?"

Tara Tsabedze has posed:
One brow raises high on Tara's feline face at the 'Rahr', but she lets the whole concept of a comment regarding it slip by. Actors had parts to play, and sometimes those parts carried over into situations like this one, a fund raiser.

So as not to be rude, when her hand is free from Thomas, it is offered to the blonde at the bar to shake as well. She'd already given her name so no need to repeat it, and she offers a polite, "Nice to meet you as well." even though she had no idea what Blackhawk Transport was, and in all honesty, didn't care. Obviously she'd never let on to that fact, she knew how to play the part of interested even if she loathed doing it.

And then the topic of conversation moves on to alcohol and heavy drinking, which causes her a mental eye roll. Alcohol didn't effect her like it did others, but she did enjoy watching others become inebriated. The way their inhibitions' dropped, social filters faded away, it was very entertaining right up to the falling down and/or puking stage of it all.

"No green tea," she almost pouts then adds, "I'll just have some kind of tea... not Long Island, thank you. Black would be perfectly acceptable, with a splash of mint please."

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake looks at the check. "No way. I can see the company using Zinda Blake as a figurehead. But signing her name on checks is going a little too far. I mean I heard stories about her from my Great Aunt Estelle for years. She was the only Blake you could ever call a heroine. I mean no offense to you. You're doing a spot on job of portraying her down to your forty fives there. But I mean as the last Blake... I have mixed feelings about this stunt. I mean, I'm sorry to bring up contention here with you and Tara, Mike but you can understand. This is a mockery of the name Blake... if such a thing is even possible after me. There were some Blakes who were... not like my dad. Auntie Estelle was great... and screw the rumors of the brothel and speakeasy."

Zinda Blake has posed:
Zinda Blake keeps the smile, lifting a blonde brow as Thomas casts doubt on her authenticity. "Auntie Estelle, did ya' say?" she replies. "What Ah hear, there weren't any rumors. The Griffin may have had a rough kinda crowd, but they were all good folks."

She pokes at the check with a fingertip, then. "You lemme know if anybody gives y'all any trouble with th' check, too..."

Then something crosses her mind, as if she finally registers what he's saying. "Hold on, now. Are you sayin' that YOU'RE a Blake? Ah thought y'all were a Thomas Catman or somethin'."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Nick gives an apologetic look to Tara as he sees her look of disappointment. Hearing her acceptance of the alternate option, he turns back to the bar to put her order in along with his. There's no need to shove everyone against the structure after all.

Hearing Thomas start to make a stand against what is likely a sizable sum being offered over, he looks over to Thomas, brow raising. Nick starts shaking his head. "Thomas." Nick interjects, "This IS Zinda Blake."

Someone has not been reading their prep notes.

Tara Tsabedze has posed:
Clueless as to what Thomas is on about regarding Zinda Blake, Lady Blackhawk, whatever name might be the correct one, Tara keeps her attention on the conversation but offers nothing to it.

The bar stools were right there, so she settles herself onto one, adjusting her kaba skirt, and instantly her tail starts flicking to and fro, perhaps hitting Nick, maybe even Zinda and Thomas. Tails... they have a mind of their own.

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake pronounces very distinctly, "My father was Thomas Reese Blake Senior. He went by his father's name -Reese. I am Thomas Reese Blake Junior. Reese Blake was a rum runner in Gotham during Prohibition. He got the idea from the Southern Blakes and their little airline. His sister was Estelle Blake and yes she was a fine lady. She died when I was five. She told me stories about my great aunt Zinda. But Zinda Blake died eighty years ago and died a war hero over the Pacific. Catman was my identity when I committed crimes I brought it to the show. I thought... I thought I was the last Blake." Without conscious effort he reaches to take Zinda's hand.

God he was thinking maybe they could... even Thomas Blake has limits. Even if his centenarian relation has a flight jacket full of woman, and likes drinking, and flirting and... maybe he gets it from her. "Listen, this is all too much for me right now and maybe /Aunt/ Zinda. Why don't we blow and head back to my house and we can have some refreshments. I do have green tea in fact, for my friend Saeko. I have clipings and scrap books."

Zinda Blake has posed:
Zinda Blake plants both hands on her hips, one still clutching the longneck. She shakes her head at Thomas, then. "Sugah, Ah mos' certainly did NOT get shot down over the Pacific. Lost mah' starboard engine after a splashed them 2 fighters, chasing the others into a cloud bank. Next thing Ah know, Ah'm bein' hailed by a couple Japanese F-16's."

She points directly at his chest, then. "So you sure as hell ain't th' last Blake." The tail whips around her calf, then back, then around her calf again. Zinda doesn't pull her foot away, and wriggles a bit from the fur.

She grins, then, at Thomas' offer. "Ah'd like that, sugah. Ah'll tell y'all about the Blake family moonshinin' days."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
As Thomas explains his reasoning. Giving a sigh, Nick reaches into another pocket to pull out a folded sheet of paper. When he catches on that Thomas is actually accepting of the information, he slides the sheet back into his pocket. The mention of green tea seals it for him.

Nick looks over to Tara, "What do you say? I'm game if you are."

Tara Tsabedze has posed:
With an idea now of what was taking place here, Tara looks between Thomas and Zinda for a moment. There were lots of people in this world who were immortal, or long lived, so the idea that a long lost relative that should be dead just reappearing... did not surprise her at all.

"I really did have my heart set on green tea," she says to Nick, before looking back toward him. "I believe the term, 'I am game' applies, though normally that sort of talk would get you hunted."