14061/A Dance with... OSHA violations

A Dance with... OSHA violations
Date of Scene:	07 February 2023
Location:	Happy Hetairai Bar and Girl
Synopsis:	The unluckiest criminal hanging out in Gotham's sleaziest bar has the misfortune of being targeted by two totally well-adjusted heroines who don't have penchants for going overboard. And they're really responsible when they start drinking after a bar fight. It's fine. Just fine.
Cast of Characters:	Kate Kane, Jessica Jones

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Kate Kane has posed:
It turns out there's always a lower rung to go when fighting crime. It's not all rooftop stakeouts and lurking on gargoyles in thunder storms, thinking dark, grim monologs. Sometimes it requires intelligence gathering, and while that's often done electronically nowadays, it can't always be. Sometimes you need to surveil someone the old fashioned way.

And sometimes the lowlife you're tracking and trying to tie to recent imports of drugs and exports of vulnerable people into the churning gears of international crime hangs out in the worst dive bar in Gotham. But sometimes, sometimes you find out that he actually hangs out in a bar that's worse than the worst dive you knew about. And the plus side is, a bar that terrible doesn't have much of a hiring process for the entertainment than making sure they've got a pulse.

Which is how Kate winds up under a hastily but skillfully thrown cover ID that was probably hours more work than necessary, performing on stage and half worrying she's going to break a leg when the stage collapses. Luckily, the clientele of Gotham's worst strip club is too drunk and rowdy to notice how the stripper in a blonde wig, and a somehow even skimpier version of that costume that the Invisible Woman once wore, that 4 cutout on the chest and all, is looking around alertly, and tracking one specific guy sitting in a corner booth, waiting to see who meets him, to get the next link in the chain.

It's the least enjoyable part of vigilante work, but it's a necessity. And the club sound system only squeals with feedback every few songs. Kate assures herself this could be far far worse.

At least this place is so awful, none of Gotham's more capable criminals are likely to show up, because anyone with any sort of familiarity with Private Investigating would be able to tell that dancer's no ordinary dancer... not with that sculpted but sleek build. Or those intent, fiery emerald eyes that lock like a soldier with a target on... well, her target.

Jessica Jones has posed:
Human trafficking. The lowest of all crimes. At least so it is to Jessica Jones. She knows a little bit about being vulnerable herself. A prisoner to the whims of another. And one thing that she will /never/ tolerate are perpetrators of that. Admittedly, she does not run around playing hero and looking for traffickers to hunt down. That would be something more suited to the Bats or folks like that. But whenever one of those crosses her desk - and nine times out of ten, the missing coed who has not checked in with home in two weeks is somewhere along those lines - she drops everything and takes that case.

Tonight, the threads of her lastest investigation have led her to one of the worst places to drink she has ever been in. And she has been in so, so many different places. She had heard a bit about this place before coming, and as she steps in she realizes she was wise to leave her good jacket at home. She had a strong sense she was going to want to burn everything she wore in here - light blue jeans with holes in the knees, a simple white t-shirt, and a denim jacket. Denim was not really her thing, but she thought it might fit in, and it was the cheapest thing they had in the thrift store. She had a feeling that one way or another, there would be blood on this jacket before the night was through.

She eases her way in through the doorway, and wards off any attempts to grab at her with eyes that clearly indicate the strongest part of 'fuck around and find out', and heads over towards the bar. She leans against it and nods to the bartender, who is perhaps a bit surprised to see a woman wearing that many clothes in here, but Jessica always found a way to stand out. She hands over a few crumpled bills and orders up a beer. She asks him to surprise her, but instantly regrets that request as she looks around. But she is not really here for the beer. Or for the girls. Although the girl up on the stage is /really fucking good/, and almost makes the trip worthhile.

Now, she is here for the rat fucker in the corner booth. She had a photo that showed him with Luci Connors just a few days before she had vanished. She was pretty sure he was responsible, and the quickness with which his face conjured up an impression on those she'd been targeting over the past few days would seem to confirm it.

She barely notices when the beer is set down in front of her, eyes locked upon that man. Is he waiting for someone, or just enjoying the show?

Kate Kane has posed:
Kate's dancing is adequate, which makes it somewhere near 'act of the year' for this place, even as she's not focusing on it. The routine's just something she used to do for exercise, and really, the costume's doing most of the work to earn the hoots and whoops. from the crowd. But running through Kane Capital's ledgers in her head, working out a training schedule for Harper, and coming up with a list of supplies to order for her yacht for a trip in the near future can only dull her senses so far.

And so, while she's mid-spin on the pole, saying a silent prayer that it doesn't collapse the goddamn ceiling as it /creaks/, her eyes catch a glimpse at the bar, and she ends that spin to take a second look. A woman in the club? That no doubt draws looks from the sad sack clientele. But Kate recognizes that woman.

She's not sure if Jessica Jones is going to recognize her. After all, for all she knows, her cover is good enough to fool someone who's affiliated with the Birds but hasn't run an op with her. Eyebrows perk slightly in a silent signal to the dark haired woman who's clearly focusing on...

Her target? Well shit. Of course. She's been marinating in this hellhole for two hours now, and Jessica's just... /here/.

And Kate remembers then. Well, half-remembers. Some crack from Babs about how if they ever met, she'd want to be out of town.

That probably means her reaction to finding her prey is going to be measured and polite, right? Sure... hey, at least this barely stable stripper pole's only about six inches longer than a bo staff. She can work with that.

And she might have to, as another figure enters the bar. He's dressed in classic Gotham Shitbag Chic, like he just stepped out of a time machine from the roaring 20s, and he's walking towards that corner booth.

Kate's got to allow, these assholes picked a really good meeting spot. It's one step up from a nuclear waste dump in 'places no one would willingly go to surveil a criminal conspiracy'.

Jessica Jones has posed:
No, Jessica Jones may spare an admiring glance at the woman dancing, but it's not exactly her face she is looking to. Something about avoiding the soulless gaze of those toiling away on those stages is a huge turn-off to her. And having never had a chance to bear witness to the Bat-ass or any of its greatness, she has no way to know that the dancer is anyone of prominence.

The guy walking in to great her quarry? She doesn't know him either. But she sure as shit is about to. In the biblical sense if he doesn't watch out. She pounds down the glass of beer, another thing she nearly instantly regrets, and pushes off the bar. If she had known that someone else was staking out the place, she might have gone a bit slower. But also, maybe not. There are some that play by rules, but the only rule Jessica plays by is her own ass.

She follows the path of the man once she confirms he is heading towards that corner booth with a clear purpose. She is not about to waste time waiting to see what they are chatting about, she is about to insert herself into their conversation in the most violent of ways. A few of the other patrons notice her purposeful walk and it is like the Red Sea clearing as she moves towards that table.

Kate Kane has posed:
Kate's eyes are locked on the suited figure approaching her lead, glancing to Jessica only as the crowd parts ahead of her. Oh. Boy.

Maybe this entire plan was cursed from the start. As Jessica's moving towards their targets, the one in the booth looks up to see his friend approaching, only to act like he's very much _not_ a friend, eyes widening, table being flipped as he scrambles, reaching into his jacket for something.

The suited fellow yells out something in that typical Gotham street accent... how do they always sound like their grandparents moved out of Brooklyn in the 30s and the accent stuck to the bloodline like... well, like spilled beer seems to be stuck to everything in this hellhole.

Kate doesn't really have time to consider it, as while the last man seen with Luci Connors is fumbling for a knife or a gun or /something/, the new arrival's already beginning to pull a nickel plated .45 from an under-shoulder holster.

Kate can't let him shoot her lead, and so she rushes to the edge of the stage, thigh high white boots make running difficult, but not impossible... and also throw off her aim. Because as she kicks a glass mug of beer, she's showered in warm beer, as the glass itself flies out to hit the would-be shooter's elbow, knocking him off aim, but neither hitting him in the head /or/ the wrist... both far more likely to stop his attempted shooting.

God, this was a terrible plan. She should have just kicked in the front door and started ensuring a bunch of Gotham dentists were going to be able to buy new summer homes.

Jessica Jones has posed:
There were many things that Jessica expected to happen, but getting doused in beer from a stripper trying to take out a would-be hitman aiming to take out the guy that she was there to take out was not one of them.

"Wait your turn," she barks, grabbing a beer glass out of the hand of a nearby patron and whipping it right back at Kate without even looking up at her to see anything other than that flash of thigh. She tries to get past the attacker who was foiled by the dancer - who clearly must be part of the corner man's protection racket or one of his girls - and make for her target before he bolts.

Unfortunately for Jessica, the broken glass gave him just enough time to draw a Colt .45 (and not the Billy Dee kind) from out of his pants. Doubly unfortunate, he is a shitty shot on a good day, and with Jessica manhandling his attacker of the way, what was meant to take out the shooter instead zips past him, grazing her along the side.

"Mother FUCKER!" she yells as she staggers a bit to the side, a hand moving down to catch where the spray comes up from just below her rib cage. "That's gonna cost extra." She seems more angry than hurt. But angry Jessica is not a good thing.

Kate Kane has posed:
Kate couldn't agree more with Jessica's shout. Sure, hers isn't about being grazed by a bullet... but yeah, the rapidly devolving shitshow is definitely a valid situation for that summary. That leggy dancer isn't just kicking beers around either, leaping off the stage as, common to all Gotham bars, gunfire and swearing don't send the crowd running for the exits.

Some of the weedier, actually down on their luck patrons do make haste for the exit, but Gotham's always got a good quotient of scum in the bars, and scum tend to start pulling switchblades, swinging chairs, and otherwise turning an already bad situation worse.

Faux-Sue lands in the midst of a forming brawl, throwing out an elbow with far more ease and grace than she was working the stage, and rocketing a mist of red into the air as one of Gotham's maxiofacial surgeons probably wakes up having heard a cash register dinging. As she spins to extend that arm from delivering a driving elbow to cracking the back of her fist off the next patron's head, a third's wild swing with a switchblade grazes her ribcage, and there's a brief jolt of fire.

Right. That costume's not even as blade-proof as her usual jacket. Still, she's had worse, and who's going to notice one more fading scar?

The hapless criminal's more likely to remember the way the dancer snapped around at almost inhuman speed, hyperextending his elbow with a grip, grabbing that knife out of suddenly numb fingers, and jabbing it into his knee before delivering a knee to somewhere that is /terribly/ painful.

Probably not as bad as the stab wound, but down he goes as Kate springs forward to close the distance towards the corner booth, that blonde wig flying off, revealing short cropped red hair.

Can you believe it? That dancer wasn't even a natural blonde!

Jessica Jones has posed:
Oh, there is a brouhaha alright. And Jessica is not about to let that get in the way of who she came for. The gunman who was trying to take care of her problem is ignored as he falls to the side, and she starts shoving bodies out of the way. The trafficker tries to shoot her again but this time she grabs one of the men darting at her with a knife and holds him in front. At least he was good for something.

"I've had enough of your shit already," she barks at the man as she nearly closes the distance on him. And then a flash of white from the side as the dancer starts trying to cut her off.

"And you can fuck /all the way/ off blondie," she yells, casting a powerful elbow off to the side in the general direction of Kate. It is not the most well aimed of blows, because frankly Jessica does not expect that the dancer is much of a threat in any regard. Just another woman trying to excuse the man for his misdeeds and get in the way of honest justice.

Kate Kane has posed:
As Kate's dealing with another anonymous onrushing bar patron, giving him a quick kick to the knee to stop him short of rushing her to tackle her, and then cracking him with an uppercut, she's looking around for /something/ to hurl at her and Jessica's mutual target. Should have planned ahead and planted a utility belt around here... but who has time for that? This was supposed to be quick and dirty.

She's starting to regret that 'quick and dirty' sounded like a good plan, at least until she grabs the collar of the guy she just uppercut and grimaces... body weight dropping, heel kicking up into his stomach as she does a backwards somersault to fling hi- well, she /was/ going to fling him, and instead she winds up see-sawing him directly into Jessica's hastily thrown elbow with a sickening crunch. Oops.

She kips up off her back with a growl, "Hey! I'm not the one who showed up and ruined a perfectly good stakeout! I had everything under control!" And that's when it hits Kate and she bends back down... and rips that switchblade she'd so thoughtfully temporarily stowed away in that one guy's leg.

And whips that knife with accuracy far beyond any typical dancer, directly into the gunman's hand... and wedging the blade behind the trigger. "Can you knock that guy out?"

She looks back to the rest of the bar, which has devolved into a sea of 'Those who didn't win their fights and are laying in some form of pain' and the bartender who's cowering behind the bar. Even odds whether or not he's called the cops... but if he has... okay, they've probably got ten minutes. There's no way GCPD patrol officers care about this place devolving into a riot. They'll show up to clean up the bodies.

Jessica Jones has posed:
Almost reaching her destination, the comments from Kate cause Jessica to pause, and actually turn to look at her. Her face, this time, Jessica. She peers for a moment, somewhat oblivious to a guy coming at her until she whirls and punches him dead in the face, and then she looks back. "Hey. Aren't we on the same side?"

It's a silly question, but it clicks in her head as she looks over the outfit, and then their mutual targets complete lack of understanding of what is going on. "Got it." She grabs another guy who is trying to run past and flings him into the gunman, sending the two of them tumbling into a table. "You got a ride here? I took the bus." She forces her way through another pair of combatants, flinging each to either side, and rounds on the now thoroughly petrified trafficker.

Turning the full intensity of her gaze on him, she leans forward. "What do you say we take this conversation outside, shall we?" She swats the shaking hand holding the gun, flinging the firearm away, and waits for Kate to join her. At this point, it's only nice to share.

Kate Kane has posed:
Kate rolls her eyes and hisses out, "Yeah, which is why you got splashed by beer instead of, you know, shot in the face by this dickweed." She gestures downright grumpily to the target. But then she's asked about a ride and grins broadly, "Oh! I've got a ride. Uhhh... three is going to be kind of tricky."

She quirks an eyebrow and eyes the shaking criminal, casually cracking her knuckles in a... /very/ non-dancer way. "You know if you answer all our questions we could probably leave you for the ambulances and police. Otherwise we've got to do the whole 'Hang you off a roof' thing, and I'm /really/ tired..."

She shrugs and jerks her head towards Jessica, "And /someone/ shot her, so I bet her arm's feeling real tired, and well... dropping someone from fifteen storeys up isn't one of those 'say sorry about it' mistakes."

Kate goes silent, though she's got a small subvocal mic taped to her throat, and her bike's waiting a block away for her request. And in a second there's the sound of a high performance engine kicking into gear and revving up. She's sure the self-driving function can manage to get it a block over and outside the bar on its own. She spins around on her heel, and begins clearing a way to the door, figuring Jessica can drag the criminal along and interrogate him at once. Multitasking! Every vigilante's secret weapon.

Jessica Jones has posed:
"I thought you were trying to protect this asshole by taking out the gunman!" protests Jessica. "Which is why I almost clocked you in the face." Jessica takes a moment to turn and regard Kate, looking her up and down. "I mean, really, what about /this/ makes you seem like..." She just shakes her head, deciding not to go there.

While they bickered their man looked like he was about to try to make a run for it, but Jessica reaches over and grabs a handful of shirt, and likely at least some chest hair underneath, and hauls him out from behind the table. "Oh, we can do tricky. Two of us on the bike, him hanging behind like a lame ass Confederate flag." She turns and does in fact start dragging him towards the door, her free hand being used to swat anyone out of their way. "Yeah, I am kind of allergic to being /fucking shot/. So you better start talking now. Buyers, supplies, you spill your org, and maybe, just maybe, we don't toss you into the bay."

Jessica follows along behind Kate, letting her clear the way. "How the fuck you only get twelve bucks?" she asks, counting the bills trapped at her waist.

Kate Kane has posed:
Kate barks out a sharp laugh, "Well, I mean, yeah! If his brains were painted all over the booth, like... that /might/ be the final health code violation for the place! Also, you know, when I thought 'I should find this guy and pick his brains', I definitely didn't include 'off the fucking wall', Jones!"

Eyes narrow as her outfit is critiqued, and she hisses out softly, "Hey, choose your words carefully. This was the finest discount Halloween 'Sexy Vanishing Woman' costume I could find." She groans softly, "Listen, I threw this shit together on short notice. It was supposed to be a nice, quiet cakewalk to offset the weird freaky shit I've had to do lately."

She glances back over her shoulder and rolls her eyes as she escorts Jessica and their interrogation target out, "Well, the audience wasn't exactly my kind of people."

Jessica Jones has posed:
"Look, if anyone in here was a decent shot, maybe, but they couldn't hit the broad side of a barn." Jessica sends a kick at a pair of combatants to get them out of her was as the exit starts to loom closer. "But honestly, if he had gotten splattered, would have been the worst thing?"

"I'm right here!" complains the guy as Jessica continues to drag him unceremoniously through the bar.

"Shut up," she says, shaking her head. "I can't imagine how bad this place has to be that that ass isn't worth at least fifty bucks," she says with a grin, hauling the man along with her as they finally reach the door.

"Maybe if there was better beer...?"

Kate Kane has posed:
Kate fights back a grin, glaring at Jessica half-heartedly, "Flatterer." As they step out into the later winter of Gotham, Kate /hisses/ sharply, more reaction than she gave to the shallow cut along her side, arms pressing tight to her core, "Goddamn... this is _not_ beer weather. This is like... hot toddy and a sauna weather."

There's a dark red and black Ducati parked at the curb, probably raising the bar's property value by multiple percentage points. But the seat's /barely/ got enough room for two. "Unless you want to lash him to the handlebars like Mad Max, you should probably just rifle his pockets, ask him some questions, and we can throw any intel we get at Ba... the /smart/ one to find answers."

Kate's on her bike in a moment, fingers curling on the handle bars, throttle twisting a little just to rev the engine enticingly as she grins wide. "If you ask him quickly, we can /totally/ get some much better liquor somewhere warm. Also, it's never had a bar fight break out spontaneously. ...Okay, it did once. But I swear the bar made the first move."

Jessica Jones has posed:
"You find me a sauna somewhere now, you're on." Jessica grins at Kate, watching her shiver in the cold. Somewhere prepared, and someone clearly didn't. "I'll make this fast."

She turns back towards the man and shoves him into the wall. They have a fairly brief conversation as shepulls everything out from his pants - well, /almost/ everything - and then finally she tosses him up onto the roof. "And stay there, ya fuck." Yeah, the GPD will show up eventually and get him down. Good luck explaining why he was up there to them. She makes her way back over towards the bike once she has what she needs.

"Here, you look like you could use this more than I could." She shrugs off her denim jacket and tosses it to Kate. The wound on her side does not look to be /too/ bad, a line of crimson along with a tear in her shirt, but it almost seems to have stopped bleeidng already.

She loops her leg over the side of the bike and hops on behind Kate. "There better be some good booze wherever you're taking me."

Kate Kane has posed:
Kate revs that engine and kicks into gear as soon as that borrowed denim is securely wrapped around her... and immediately hits speeds that denim's not going to fight the windchill of. But she appreciates the gesture, even if the ride's not terribly long... or at least, the overground portion isn't.

Those darn flashy billionaire Gotham vigilantes. Kate's bike goes screaming towards what looks to be a dead end alley behind a drycleaning place blocks away from the R.H. Kane building, and her penthouse... only for a brief flick of a hidden button on her bike to result in a ramp opening in the alleyway, letting the bike zip down into a dimly lit tunnel.

Really, it's Bruce's fault. Once you experience the ostentatiousness of Secret Vehicle Entrance Tunnels, you just can't help but want your own.

Once the tunnel's past, the large chamber the bike pulls into looks like it could function as a perfectly fine high class condo... if you replaced most of the decor with gadgets, guns, and of course, that far /more/ practical outfit Kate dresses up to hit the town in. There's even a bulkier version of the Batsuit on a stand next to it that looks like it might be a spacesuit... though a lot of the black coating is chipped and scratched away.

She kicks down the stand for the bike and looks over her shoulder with a grin, "Well, I can /guarantee/ I've got way better drinks than that place did. No stage for dancing mind you, but hey, I'd feel guilty taking all your money."

Jessica Jones has posed:
Despite the speed, Jessica does not seem to be too alarmed. She slides on arm around Kate to keep her place, and seems somewhat used to riding. She also knows not to attempt conversation at those speeds. And yes, it is probably a bit chilly in just a t-shirt, but she makes no complaint about it. Not with the promise of a sauna and drinks on the other end.

After the bike is parked, Jesisca take a moment to look around the KateCave, nodding in appreciation. "Ok, your secret lair is WAY cooler than mine is." She laughs a bit, and looks over at the suit. "Nice stuff."

She meanders aronud a bit before looking back over towards Kate. "Oh, trust me, if you took my money, you'd have /earned/ it, and in that case, I'd have been glad to be parted from it." She flashes a grin, and glances down at her shirt for a moment, before looking back to Kate. "Happy to take any kind of alcohol."

Kate Kane has posed:
Kate kicks one leg up and over the bike, practically slithering off with a crooked little grin as she shrugs lightly. "Benefits of Gotham's lax building code, and owning the block." She sighs out in faux-regret, "Too bad that dry cleaning place isn't actually good. Better for making sure no one's loitering around the alley."

That denim jacket is shrugged off toned shoulders, collar hooked on one finger, jacket offered up towards Jessica even while Kate's still on the move towards the central area. There's a table sizable enough to fit for a dining room set, though it looks far too high tech for that, especially when Kate gets within a couple feet and the top blinks into life as a touchscreen. She ignores the prompt to place her hand on it and unlock the security, instead bending over to open a sliding door on the base, the sound of clinking glass as she fetches out two tumblers and a bottle of Jack Daniels that looks almost untouched that she unscrews before eying Jessica again carefully, measuring the woman... and then filling both glasses, just allowing for a bit of room for motion, so they won't be spilling any drinks. Yet.

"So, I'm guessing someone hired you to find our scumbag of the night? I think it's traditional we talk a little business before we unwind."

Jessica Jones has posed:
"Fancy," remarks Jessica, continuing to look around for a moment. "My place, ironically, /also/ adjacent to a dry cleaners, but mostly because the rent is cheap because it stinks to high hell." She makes a bit of a face. "Clearly I'm in the wrong business. But I knew that a long time ago."

She accepts the jacket but rather than putting it on she tosses it over the nearest seat and follows along with Kate. "So, gonna guess that you came into some of this before your super heroing days?" She runs a finger along the side of the table, not on the touchscreen, but on the side frame. Far be it for her to set off any security protocols unwittingly. Her eyes drift back over to Kate as she procures two drinks, and she nods in approval of the amount of Jack added to the glasses. That is definitely a Jessica sized drink. Even if the glass is a tad small. And not, like, the entire bottle.

"I don't know how you do it, I don't have much in the way of tradition guiding me." She reaches out to take the glass. "Parents of one of his vics. Wanted me to find her. You probably know how /that/ story ended. So only thing I could do is make sure she was one of the last." She raises the glass towards Kate. "Salud." And then she pours as much of it down her throat as she can. Which is to say, a lot.

Kate Kane has posed:
Kate lets her hips settle on the edge of the table, scooping up her glass and taking a sip after returning that toast... just a single, small sip as she nods her head solemnly. "Yeah, turns out family money is an advantage in life in general /and/ the vigilante crime fighting game. If you can't shoot eye lasers, being able to buy an arsenal of automatic weapons and other gizmos and gadgets can help you close the gap." Her lips quirk in a grin, "I mean, also gives you time to go off for a few years of intense training on surveillance, martial arts, forensics and on and on."

She sighs and rolls her head back slowly, trying to crack her neck or something, "Yeah. Same ol' story. Another person eaten up by the sharks prowling the streets. It's... still taking me time to adjust to the big Bat's 'No killing anyone, they never deserve it.' thing, but... I agreed to give it my best."

One eyebrow perks up as Jessica tosses back the whiskey like a champ, and Kate's barely even thinking about it before she's sliding the bottle nearer to the brunette. "Wow. So you've got like, super physiology right? I didn't think it gave you like... alcohol resistance or whatever. I can never keep track of who can get drunk and who can throw high proof stuff back like it's fucking gatorade."

But hey, if her guest is drinking, it's only fair to keep pace, her own glass tilted back again, she doesn't drain her own glass... she leaves enough for another shot in a second, even as she exhales sharply, eyes widening a little, emeralds glittering a little brighter as they water up. Kate hasn't done /that/ in awhile. God, it burns like high school.

She grins crookedly and snorts softly in the wake of that burn, "God, this is... I am /not/ good at small talk."

Jessica Jones has posed:
Does Jessica seem embarassed at the speed with which she downed the Jack in comparison to Kate's more dainty approach? Nope. "Or you can just cheat, go comatose and get experimented on by a bunch of scientists, and come out able to punch through a brick wall." Jessica shrugs. "I suppose both of them are cheat codes, just yours takes a bit longer to get from A to Z, and has a bit less trauma." She takes a moment to look over Kate. "Although I'm not so sure on that part."

Jessica blows air of her mouth, lifting a bit of her hair in the process. "Yeah, I got a friend like that. Real pain in the ass." She scrunches up her face. "'Every person can be redeemed'" she says in a mousey voice, clearly not an actual attempt to impersonate whoever it is. "Personally, I think it's because he just doesn't want to deal with the guilt of killing them, though, no other reason." She glances at her whiskey. "Catholics." And then she takes another long swallow. Not quite as robust as the last. Maybe she is trying to match Kate a bit more.

She catches the bottle deftly as it is slid to her and starts pouring. "Oh, no, I'm strong enough to toss a car, and this gunshot will heal within a few days, but I thankfully booze is still booze to me." She lifts up the now nearly filled glass. "I think I'd go crazy or broke if I had one of those 'takes a lot to get drunk' powers." She takes a healthy swallow of that, now.

Jessica slides the bottle back to Kate, watching the pace of her drinking. "Nope, I earned my ability to drink the old fashioned way - practice." A lopsided grin rests on her face. "So. What /are/ you good at, then?"

Kate Kane has posed:
There's a soft snort from Kate as she shakes her head, "No dice. I /already/ get Babs asking me to help move stuff around the Clocktower. If I could punch through a brick wall she'd probably talk me into being her personal renovation machine. Moving couches is where I draw the line." Teeth worry her lower lip thoughtfully, and the rest of that drink goes down the hatch, before she's leaning over to grab the bottle and pour herself another full glass refill. "Well, the family money didn't bring any trauma. Family? ...That's a little more complicated. But most of the trauma was..." She trails off, and back goes half her glass, with far less of a catch to her breathing, "A long time ago. I'm fine now."

She shrugs lightly and sighs out, "No kidding, I mean, god, I swear I once had to listen to 'Grr, rargh, if you kill a killer, you haven't changed the number of killers in the world.'" Her own voice drops to a gruff voice suitable for someone who's been gargling salt-coated razor blades, only for her eyes to roll, "I mean, yeah, if I kill one guy who's killed one person that's a net zero. If I kill the Joker and then he doesn't kill any more busloads of people? I'm no math professor, but I think that equation checks out better."

She nods her head and grins crookedly, "Yeah, if you build up a tolerance to it, or just... you know, chase something harder to cope with things? Again, money, the real superpower."

She sounds a little more bitter about her social status. But just for a moment and shrugs lightly, "Well now. I used to be /great/ at drinking. And staying up for days. Now? Mostly just kicking ass in a slightly more friendly manner than I used to. I've been... trying to be a bit of a mentor. We'll see how it goes." She trails off for a moment, and then whistles nonchalantly, "Oh, and I'm /great/ at dancing. I mean, usually it's more... dark club with a good beat and a dance floor than... ah... /stage/ dancing. But somehow it never seems like I need to go undercover in cirque de solei so it works out."

Jessica Jones has posed:
"My friends know better than to ask me to move their shit," replies Jessica, with a grin. "I mean, they could offer a bottle of Jack, but I ask for payment up front, and you know, unless they want to prioritize what shit is most important to them to get moved first..." Her grin broadens, although it fades a little bit as Kate brings up her trauma. She nods quietly. "Yeah. Mine too." She looks down at the Jack. "Except the fine part." She takes down the rest of the glass, and is already reaching to pour another.

She laughs at that statement, shaking her head. "I mean, sure, the /first/ time, maybe, but after that, well, you are absolutely changing the number of killers." She grins a bit at the voice, and then nods as Kate continues. That seems to resonate with her for a moment. "I killed a man once," she says. It might seem out of nowhere, her tone, the coldness of it. "But if I didn't, yeah. Thousands. Maybe more." She picks up her refilled whiskey. "Would it again. A hundred times if I had to."

The line about a mentor earns an eyebrow from Jessica. She looks over at the bottle of Jack, once full now nearly down a half, and then at Kate's outfit. And maybe a brief look at the new injury. "Yeah. You're /definitely/ the one I'd want teaching my little super kidlet how to be a hero." But there is a grin of amusement in that, even if the laugh doesn't touch her eyes.

Dancing. Jessica sets down the glass and reaches into her back pocket and pulls out a crumbled five dollar bill and flashes it between her fingers. "Great at dancing, huh?"

Kate Kane has posed:
Kate's eyebrows lift, and she covers the broad grin Jessica's explanation of her ability to avoid being The Moving Buddy the most direct way she can think of... a long, slow drink. By the time she's lowering her glass, her eyes have changed slightly, less light hearted fun and more... concern and sympathy. She's been there. Probably still is there. But hey, self-delusion is a helluva coping mechanism. Plus, how over her trauma can she be if she dresses up like a bat and jumps off buildings? That shit's /crazy/.

Kate nods solemnly. "Same. I mean, more than once. But it was always for the right reason. If... I'd known about that guy tonight before it was too late to... well, one happy family's worth the glowering from someone disagreeing with that decision."

Kate's lips quirk in a grin as she's assessed, back arching a little, drawing herself up to a prim, proper, 'Kate in a boardroom setting' pose of confidence, "Hey! ...We haven't covered the undercover surveillance lessons yet. Maybe I fucked all this up on purpose to remind myself how things can go badly. Maybe I'm thinking /that/ far ahead."

Eyes glint as that prim, confident posture shifts... oh, Kate's still confident, in fact, one long leg stretches out, toe of her gleaming white boot lifting high enough to /tap/ that bill lightly as she licks her lips to clean away any trace of whiskey as she /growls/ softly, "Oh, I am... but are you sure you can afford it? I mean, that's like... what? A fifth of your bus ticket back to NYC? I'd hate to strand you here because you had /too/ much fun tonight. You sure you can afford me?"

See? This is why Kate's sure she's fine at dabbling in alcohol again. Because she's definitely not got a streak of playing dangerous games or anything and going too far when she starts having fun.

She's /responsible/.

Jessica Jones has posed:
There is a small series of nods from Jessica as Kate follows her logic along. As if she herself was not thoroughly convinced despite her bravado, but hearing Kate reinforce it helps her. "Yeah. Exactly. Small sacrifice for the world, right?" She stares down at the glass. "Once you've started making those sacrifices, what's another, right?"

Kate's posing certainly draws Jessica's mood back to the brighter side. "That is an /awful/ lot of dedication to go through," she comments. "But you seem just stubborn enough to do it, and you dress like a bat, so you are /definitely/ crazy enough to."

Jessica's eyes go all the way down the length of Kate's leg as it is presented to her, and then she grins before lifting her hand up, increasing the altitude of the bill. A test, perhaps. "I've got a client I can bill, and a hotel room paid for in one of those few places that pass for "the nicer" part of Gotham. I can fly there if needed." Not that flying while drunk is the best plan, but it beats driving. "And if this isn't enough," she says, waggling the five. "I can dig deeper into my pants."

Kate Kane has posed:
Kate's lips shift into a smirk. All confidence and bravado... and a certain amount of back arching to roll her shoulders back for balance in her chair as that leg stretches and lifts higher to chase that bill. Because she can't /not/ fulfill that unspoken dare. But there's something about /this/ show of flexibility that's so different than when Kate was on stage. And it's not that she's only now remembering that blonde wig was left at the bar. Whoops. But hey, that short red hair has its own charms, for one thing it doesn't get in the way of that steady gaze as she murmurs dryly. "Hm. Well, I was going to mention I've got a guest room that doesn't even need flying to reach upstairs... you know, save you the flight. After all, drinking and flying can lead to trouble."

Tongue grazes her lips again in a brazen little show and she hums out softly. "Well now. I don't know if me just stretching my leg is worth /that/ level of payment. But I'm sure we can come up with something that's suitable for you to dig deep and leave lighter on funds... and I'm not charging for drinks, so... we'll have to give this some thorough consideration. Maybe I'll give you a discount... I /do/ feel bad about that beer splashing you. Just... /so/ broken up."

That leg draws back, not lowering to the ground though, she hooks the sharp heel of her boot on the edge of her seat, knee tucked up under her chin, arms hugging around her folded leg and pressing her chest to upraised thigh. "I mean, unless you think that's a /bad/ idea. I'd hate to be a terrible influence on you."

Jessica Jones has posed:
Did that bill inch a bit higher as Kate was doing that? Maaaaaaaaaybe. "Wouldn't be my money going to waste on an unused hotel room." she murmurs. "And they /did/ give me a serious talking to after I crashed through that billboard a few weeks ago, so I really should keep a low profile so they don't take my flyer's license away."

Crinkling her forehead in thought, Jessica watches Kate. "I gotta be honest, though." She flicks the five up into the air, letting it slowly fall back down towards the ground. "I don't actually have anything else in my pants to dig deep for." Ah, yes, that beer. "But I suppose you do owe me at least a shower for the beer. Can't go home smelling like that. What will the neighbors say?"

Jessica's eyes follow the movement of that leg, and watches Kate curl it. "You are talking to someone who literally flings herself into every bad idea she can find." She takes two steps forward, her fingers drifting away from the now empty glass of whiskey. "So. What's the worst idea you got?"

Kate Kane has posed:
Kate's lips press into a thin, severe line... as intimidating as she is in her cowl? No, no. And the sparkle in her eyes of unrestrained playfulness definitely damages her intimidating rep. But she does her best to be seriously concerned. "Wait, you need a license to fly? Should I make you close your eyes and touch your nose?" She clicks her tongue in a severe little sound of disapproval, "My my, you've got a point. I suppose kicking a beer over you is worth a shower." She jerks her head back towards a short hallway, "There's a stall in there... it's fine. Totally adequate."

She presses her heel down against her seat and rises up in a rush, springing into a slow series of swaying steps towards Jessica, murmuring out. "Hm. Well, I think it's a /great/ idea myself... but I've got a much nicer shower upstairs. Along with the sauna." She grins crookedly and purrs out, "I mean, I'd say my worst idea is we get to cleaned up from that cheap beer that's not /nearly/ good enough for you, and then you try that old 'Hot sauna, run out into the cold' Scandinavian tradition... Promise, I won't lock the balcony door behind you. I mean, you could just bust back through it and then I'm out the cost of a whole new door, right?"

Surely this isn't a bad idea. If it was a bad idea, Kate wouldn't be steering into it so freely.

Jessica Jones has posed:
Jessica gives a very serious nod to Kate's question. "Yes, you ground based heroes never have to worry about the sky police. They are /vicious/." She demonstrates touching her nose as she speaks. "One time, I got a ticket for doing 400 knots in a 100 knot zone, and wowsers, that one cost a small fortune." There is a glance towards the hallway, and Jessica considers that offer for a moment.

"I was promised a sauna," reminds Jessica, nodding to Kate as she approaches. "And I am a girl who likes to enforce people's promises." She nods in slow agreement to Kate's proposal. "I wouldn't break down your door if you did that," she replies, with a grin. "I'm come in through the wall next to it like the Kool-Aid man."

She watches Kate for a moment, a bit of a teeter to her own stance, before leaning over a bit to bring her lips towards Kate's ear for a whisper.



"Ohhhhhh yeaaaaah." Kool-aid man style.

Kate Kane has posed:
Kate's lips press into an even thinner line. A very 'Okay, this is definitely not true, there are no such thing as Sky Police' but... like, GCPD had that /entire fleet/ of zeppelins, and Barbara just pulled one out of mothballs for a big plan... maybe they just realized Gotham hasn't got that many flyers. Maybe there _are_ Sky Police.

Kate sighs out and jerks her head in the opposite direction, to... a terribly normal looking elevator in the far wall with a call button and everything. The downside to building your secret crimefighting lair into your existing condo building. Sometimes you have to keep the existing infrastructure.

And sometimes your crime fighting partner who helped you polish off a bottle of Jack is leaning in so bewitchingly close, low and taunting and... being a Kool-aid man impersonator. Kate manages to limit her reaction to an /entirely/ undignified snort as she groans softly. "It's kind of... all door? Or window? I like having a view of the skyline. Don't worry, they're polarized and coated to counter parabolic microphones."

Kate's pace is slow, gait a little more sway than intentional swagger, slow and steady until she can reach that elevator call button and hit it. "...This is going to be a second. It's direct, but... it's got a way to go."

She practically leans back against Jessica, "Just let me know if you get thirsty, the /actual/ bar's upstairs. But we did some good damage to my Sulking Bottle... for a better reason than I usually hit it."

Jessica Jones has posed:
At some point, Kate may choose to research the Sky Police. Hopefully Jessica is far out of reach when that time comes, because she is not relenting on that point. Althought she does not further elaborate at the risk of stretching incredulity. She is als willing to pay that price at that time, because it is /that/ funny to her.

"My my, aren't we paranoid?" offers Jessica as she straightens up a bit. "You know I've got tech that can probably get through that too, right?" She draws back a bit to let Kate lead. "Walls, actually, conduct sound pretty darn well. You'd be amazed how many people protect the windows but don't think about the exterior walls." She follows along, watching the sway with amusement. Not that the view from behind her would have been have much different, although certainly not as interesting in her fairly boring "mom" jeans. Close enough to move forward in case a sway turns into a stagger though.

"How tall is your building?" Jessica asks in amusement as the elevator is summoned. She seems perfectly content with letting Kate lean back against her, and is rather supportive. "I think I should be good for the night," she says. "Unless you're hoping to get me drunk enough to make even /more/ mistakes. That takes quite a bit though. Not sure you're rich enough to pull that off."

Kate Kane has posed:
There's a soft snort from Kate as she rolls her eyes, "I am /not/ paranoid. They really are out to get me. They being gossip rags, and 'get me' is 'Link me to some socialite or actress socially'. I /need/ the anonymity and security of them not being able to see how often my nights involve coming back from raiding some drug ring's warehouse and watching cooking shows while buried under ice packs. The party girl princess image falls apart when you realize it's all smoke and mirrors."

Once the elevator chimes and arrives and they hustle in, Kate hits one of a total of /two/ buttons on the inside controls... because who needs more than 'penthouse' and 'vigilante basement'? Though she does appreciate the support... or at least lets herself take advantage on it like the sudden rush up of the elevator is too much for her to handle, "Oh! I think it's... a hundred and twenty floors? Maybe a hundred and two... Or fifteen? I really only see the lobby, my place, and the basement. I mean, I'm not the super, I don't have to go answer calls if someone's tap is leaking." She heaves out a low sigh and murmurs dryly, "Jessica, that is patently unfair. You act like I'm not willing to write off the operating costs of a distillery as the cost of making more bad decisions. I think you might also be underestimating my history of substance enjoyment."

Her head cranes for her to peer over her shoulder with a sly little grin, voice dropping to a low murmur, tone playful. "Besides, what if I just ask you to make some mistakes /really/ nicely?"

Jessica Jones has posed:
A series of slow nods accompanied by a "yeah yeah yeah" from Jessica shows just what she thinks of Kate's "out to get me" belief. "If people /really/ wanted to pay that much to know about you, I'd have heard about it and taken some photos myself." She leans back a bit to look down at Kate, and whistles appreciatively. "And oh, the photos would be fucking amazing, too." Of course, there was clearly no camera anywhere around. At best Jessica had a phone in the ass pocket of her jeans, and Kate had worn the only thing that wasn't tight fitting to her body.

Looking upward as the elevator starts into motion, Jessica cannot help but laugh. "I know there are some people that are so rich they don't remember how many houses they own, but everyone I know who owns a skycraper knows /exactly/ how tall that fucker is." She laughs. "Even the bum who walked in from some imaginary karate land."

She keeps Kate upright, not that that is necessarily hard to do, as the elevator wobbles slightly on its path upwards. As Kate looks back, she chuckles. "I'll let you in on a little secret. If you want me to do something, don't ask me to do it." She leans forward a bit, once again moving her lips near Kate's ear. "Just dare me not to."

Kate Kane has posed:
There's another helpless noise of amusement from Kate as she drawls out. "Well, /now/ I'm going to assume if you pull your cell phone out in the sauna that you're on the job and not just being daring." She heaves out a sigh, "I mean, hey, I didn't build the goddamn thing, I inherited it. I can tell you that if you wait until you pass the observation lounge after jumping off the roof, the strain from grappling to one of the buildings across the street nearly pops my shoulder out of its socket... But I think I heard that it happens easier the more often you do that."

Kate's content to just lean back against Jessica for most of the rest of the ride, until she knows the end is coming, and her chin tucks down, baring the back of her neck and a small zipper at the very top of her neck-hugging collar as she murmurs out, "Well then, I /dare/ you not to help me with this zipper, Jones." She's fighting back a grin as she sighs out, "And if that's all I dare you not to do tonight? I'd be very /very/ surprised. Of course, seems to me like between splashing you with beer and borrowing your jacket, I owe you a couple dares back. We'll have to deal with that at some point."

Jessica Jones has posed:
"Good point." Jessica pulls out her phone, glances at it for a moment as if to make sure it is not broken, and sets about sliding it in one of only a few places where it can reasonably rest on Kate's body, given her present lack of pockets. "Not to say I can't still be daring." She considers the grappling question. "Can't say as I've ever had that problem. Again, I encourage flight. It is a good answer to anything."

Oooo. A dare. Jessica's fingers move up and the zipper moves down until it hits its base. "You definitely owe me. But don't worry, I've been keeping track, and now that I know just how much you're good for, I'm not about to forget it." Maybe Jessica's fingers could have stopped descending at the zipper, but why?

Kate Kane has posed:
There's a low murmur from deep in Kate's chest as that zipper is gripped and pulled down, catching once or twice in what's not a /terribly/ long travel distance, as it mostly functions as a catch for the collar that wraps around Kate's neck and then spreads out to cover her chest and leave her upper back bare, pale skin on display, it's far easier to see that nautical star tattoo on her back, and faint lines and ridges of faded, old scars.

With Jessica's phone entrusted to her, Kate's mind catches up to realize with that collar unzipped, there's a certain lack of structural support for that '4' cutout window to cradle that phone. Fortunately, she's got pretty good reflexes. If they're dulled by her drinks so far, it shows only in that the hug to her own chest is... enthusiastic and /might/ lead to some truly excessive showing of what's on offer under that costume in the way of shapeliness.

"Got it, I'll put out feelers for a jetpack. ...Probably something that replaces my cape. Jetpack plus cape sounds like a /really/ good way to wind up going viral on the internet."

Kate's breath draws sharply as warm fingers continue down /past/ that zipper, finding plenty of warm skin, and taut, sculpted back muscle under that pale hue. Kate might not have science-enhanced strength, but she's nothing if not focused on physical fitness... when she's not focused on other things. A lot of focus in this woman.

There's another sharp, amused exhalation and Kate drawls out, "Oh, I see. Boots up to whoa, and a swimsuit someone's taken scissors to is only worth five bucks, but let you dare me a bit and I'm priceless?" She clicks her tongue thoughtfully. "I can live with that. I mean, I definitely feel like five bucks would be one of us getting a very lopsided deal."

As the elevator chimes and the doors swoosh open, Kate strides forward into an open concept penthouse, it's minimalist in some ways. Certainly the amount of furniture and shelving one would expect for a luxury condo, but... so much of the space is empty. Areas meant for picture frames and decor to suit the tenant are simply... bare. Practically austere despite the obvious high price of appliances and stylish furniture.

Jessica Jones has posed:
There is the warm feel of breath on Kate's back as it slowly is revealed from the zipper, as if Jessica were paying some measure of attention to make sure that the zipper does not catch. And she assists a bit when it does. Her phone? She trusts Kate to be able to keep it out of harm's way. If not, she break it she bought it. But she's sure Kate can afford it.

"You should get a nice long flowing matching wig," says Jessica, a hand reaching up to muss with Kate's short hair. "Be a bit more dramatic when flying that way." She laughs a bit at the idea of a jetpack and a cape. "Capes are overrated anyway."

The economics of the challenges makes Jessica laugh, and she nods easily enough. "You got it. That's where we are." She seems content to let Kate live with that as well. "Lopsided or top heavy?" she asks.

Jessica takes a slight step back as the doors open to give Kate a free pathway, not that she needs to, and then she trails out following her. "I'm not sure exactly what I expected, but this is definitely not it." She looks around for a moments as she steps from the elevator. "Not that that's a bad thing."

Kate Kane has posed:
Kate laughs softly and murmurs, voice low and dry, "Oh, I've got one. It's hooked into the cowl. For one thing, people are /way/ less likely to put together 'Kate Kane, pixie cut party girl' and 'Batwoman, vampire of justice with the long red hair'... I usually don't try wigs out for non-crime fighting occasions. I mean, I guess I could be convinced."

Kate nearly chokes out, "I... hey! I am not lopsided /or/ topheavy. Just... impressively generous given how the suit usually keeps things in check. Crime fighting in costume's a lot like attending a Victorian tea party. You never get to do it in something that lets you fully inhale without risking a seam or zipper."

Kate continues further into the penthouse, towards a small bar situated just short of one of the many floor to ceiling windows with a view of Gotham, this one looking out towards the harbor. She manages quite the sleight of hand then, Jessica's phone lifted above her head in one hand without that costume managing to slink its way any further down before she drops the phone on the bartop. "Well, I don't usually have guests over. You're not the only one with an expense account that can book hotel rooms." She looks over her shoulder with a sly smirk, both palms resting on the bartop, that costume managing to cling to her hips, though the upper portion has fallen free to leave her upper body bare down to the dip of her waist. "Well, I think I owe you at /least/ another drink, Jones. More Jack? Or can I get you something else? I'm pretty sure I've got a shaker set in here if you want a martini. Or if you just want me to shake some vodka up as a show."

That last is delivered dryly, like it's just the most reasonable offer, even if Kate's studying the dim reflection of Jessica and her home in the window.

Just another responsible evening for Kate Kane.

Jessica Jones has posed:
"Wait, you are vampire? I thought the bat thing was just a weird kink or fetish or something?" Jessica considers this as if it is very useful, and very interesting new information.

She laughs at Kate's reaction. "I mean, look, you do you. That's why I just go in a t-shirt and a jacket. Cheaper to replace when someone takes a chunk out of one of them, too." Again, she looks around. "Not like you need to worry about the money, though."

Jessica makes her way over towards the bar, although for a few moments the window and its view captures her attention. It is /pretty/ spectacular, and not one to be missed. Although as she moves around the bar to come opposite of Kate, it seems there is another perhaps more worthy.

Jessica opens her mouth to agree to the martini, a grin on her face to indicate that clearly it is going to be all about the shaking, until Kate offers to do the same but with vodka. "Vodka, vigorously shaken, sounds like the perfect pre-sauna concoction."

Kate Kane has posed:
Kate can't help but laugh, even as she's bending over at the waist, head beneath the level of the bar, faint rattling beginning to sound as she searches through glassware to find her shaker set, a bottle of vodka, there's a jar of maraschino cherries put up top too... just to reach the vodka? Maybe. "Oh, no, I promise all my biting is strictly of a non-blood drinking type. The costume and makeup just... look really vampire-ish. You know, a little white greasepaint to be way too pale, some bright red lipstick... leap out of the shadows and criminals tend to nearly wet themselves."

Kate stands up smoothly to find Jessica in front of her, separated by the bar, which really just means the gal from New York is at the right distance to enjoy the show as nimble fingers unscrew the lid of the vodka bottle, pouring a more than generous pour into the shaker, fingers lifting up a hidden hatch to an ice chest on the surface of the bar, pulling up with an ice cube between her fingers, grinning wide and eying the ice slowly, "Ice? I'l admit, usually I'm a 'straight from the bottle' gal. But hey, it's rare I host any guests so I'm going to try and be /very/ welcoming."

And then once the ice is deposited where it should be... either in the shaker, or tossed into the built-in sink to melt, she begins shaking, "Don't normally do this as part of the undercover dance routine. Definitely worth your five as a tip to your bartender, Jones."

Definitely the start of a beautiful friendship.