1548/On the prowl

On the prowl
Date of Scene:	06 May 2020
Location:	Central Business District
Synopsis:	Thea can't keep out of warehouses and is followed into one by a Wolverine.
Cast of Characters:	Thea Queen, Logan Howlett

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Thea Queen has posed:
Evening in Starling City. The rain has subsided, leaving behind wet puddles on grey sidewalks; the stars aren't quite out yet, more due to cloud cover than actual darkness. Random streetlights are on now, the only real lighting given to the roads. Middle of the week, so those on the road are headed home from work, which is to say, in this area, the streets aren't crowded at all.

Not the best of neighborhoods to be walking, certainly.

But it's the absolute best for trash clubbing with a pack of girlfriends! A small herd of young women are walking down a sidewalk, headed towards a warehouse club, all dressed in short skirts, high heels, their hair done up and they're looking like they are so ready for the evening out. They're even pre-stumbling, as if priming the pump for the night of drinking, dancing and.. who knows what else can be purchased within? One of those young ladies is Miss Thea Queen, looking all the world like she is ready to throw off all the cares of the world for a night of 'what the hell did I just do?'. For her, though, it's pretty much par for the course.

Thea is dressed in the same 'uniform'. A little black short dress that clings to her curves in all the right places, but her bobbed hair is down, framing her face. Heels finish the outfit, as well as an oversized bag settled on her shoulder. She's laughing and talking as loudly as the others, but there's a certain.. something to her gaze; something her friends don't pick out, but others that are a little more discerning could-

Thea is watching ... for something, for someone. She may not be completely sober, but some of the laughter and stumble is contrived.

"Hey.." she begins as they reach a door, "This is it, right? Yeah.. it looks different. Did they remodel?"

Logan Howlett has posed:
Logan has just finished a 'visit'. He's far from the quaint little cabin in the woods beside Breakstone Lake, but he has come here for business. Specifically, a group of Anti-Mutant Supremacists have been causing horrid times for some of the people he knows. They've used theor hacking skills to screw with bank accounts, change arrest records, and dox good, hard-working Mutants.

They might be hard to track through online sources, but Logan is old-fashioned. Some phone calls to the wrong kind of people lock down a location, and as the night wears on, he closes the door to one of the Supremacists behind him. His blooded knuckles, torn from connecting with cheeks and chin, is quickly healing over and smoothing, though the blood from it is still in place.

He doesn't kill these days, but he's certainly not above breaking some bones and kicking in some teeth to get a point across. He smirks a bit to himself as he places a celebratory cigar between his teeth, clenched beside sharp canines, and he lights it with a scuffed old lighter with the imagery of his forgotten Vietnam batallion. He might not remember them, but he knows the scuffed old thing is important.

He takes a drag and makes his way out of the rundown apartment building...coming out directly across the street from the gaggle of beautiful girls.

Thea Queen has posed:
While it's not 'Spidey sense' in any measure, Thea's been training and has some sort of feeling when things just aren't right. Nothing more than mere mortal, however; no spider-bites, no dips in vats of chemicals. Just, lots of yelling (okay, intense words) that passes as training.

A pull on the door doesn't budge it in the least, and one of the other girls throws up her hands, "C'mon, Thea.. oh.. hey.. is this one of those passworded ones?"

Thea looks around, her gaze catching the comings and goings of the area, and while she catches the exit of the man from the other building, it's not fully registered. Turning her attention back to her friend, she exhales in a sigh, "No.. it's not. How about..." There's a pause before, "Oh.. hey.. I bet it's down there. I'll catch up?" Uh huh...

The other girls start to stumble off again, and as Thea watches them go, she starts to dig into her oversized pocketbook to pull out a small case. In that case, a set of lockpicks.

"Okay," she singsongs, "open up.. what're you hiding.."

*click*click*

"Bingo." Thea looks up and around once more as the door opens to her ministrations, and checking over her shoulder, she steps in.. her friends halfway down the block already.

Logan Howlett has posed:
Logan takes another puff on his cigar as he glances up and down the street. His bike is parked in an alleyway a block up, and he begins to turn towards that direction to head back to Westchester. That's when he sees the girls leave Thea behind, and he watches her fiesh out a lockpick kit.

Okay, interesting.

He plucks the cigar from his lips to blow some smoke aside as he watches the girl across the street work the lock with ease and push the door open. He grunts to himself and crosses the street once she is inside. He has no idea who the beauty is, but she might be in for some trouble...or up to causing some trouble.

He takes another puff on his cigar as he reaches the door and gives a twenty count. He then silently opens the door and slips in behind her.

Thea Queen has posed:
Thea's walked into the warehouse; it's large, and, well.. a warehouse. There are crates in rows upon rows upon rows with a back office, lights out. Only the emergency lighting is lit, giving it an eerie glow. The *clip*clip* of high heels is gone, and only those with good hearing can hear the *pad*pad* of stockinged feet.

There was no party here, no club.. and it seems at least one of the young ladies knew it.

Crossing the distance, staying in shadows, Thea moves quickly and quietly towards the offices, eyes out for anything; movement always catches the eye. And, as she's been taught? Always look up.

"Okay, jerks.. Show me the money.."

Logan Howlett has posed:
Hrm.

Logan sniffs the air a bit, noting any odd scents, or traces of unseen people or worries. He then moves to follow the thief. He is as silent as a stalking cat, moving from shadow to shadow with the kind of silence and grace that might surprise people when they glance at his short, muscled form.

He takes a puff on his cigar before he drops it under his foot and crushes it out.

Thea Queen has posed:
Yup, Thea was definitely ready to go clubbing; she's got that mix of perfume and alcohol, both in enough measure to be noticable.

Once at the doors, she casts a glance once more, and tries the first door that she comes to.

Locked.

Out come the picks again, and with a touch of work, she's got the door open. Stepping through the door, Thea puts her oversized purse down and goes behind the desk to start rifling through the papers. "Come on.. come on.. no.. you wouldn't keep it there."

A moment of shuffling brings a frustrated breath chuffed, and she looks up and out the window to the warehouse floor. Motion? Quirking her head, Thea comes out from behind the desk, reaching for her purse and dipping her hand in, she keeps her attention focused forward to watch.

Maybe she was mistaken?

Logan Howlett has posed:
He decides this has gone on long enough.

The rough looking man steps into the office, watching her from there. He leans against the door frame, blocking the exit with his thick form. He brushes his blooded fingers back through his dark hair.

"Now, what'd you be up to, hmm?," he asks, an oddly pleasant sounding growl rimming his words. "You wouldn't be robbin' these people, wouldja? With clothing like that it's clear you have money. So...what's up?"

Thea Queen has posed:
Heh... and there.. oh, great. Thea curses softly under her breath. Maybe she's not cut out for this life? The one exit from the room is now blocked.

Instead, she straightens and smiles prettily, her head canting as she considers her words. "Oh.. I just heard they had a good stash here. This is my dealer's place," Thea wrinkles her nose and continues, "he's been holding out on me."

A step is taken to the side, measured and deliberate, light and.. capable. "You? I mean, if I find it, I'll share. Only need enough for the night."

Logan Howlett has posed:
"Hm. Bullshit."

He turns to pick a bit aat the paint on the doorframe, watching her out of the corner of his eyes. "Now, I normally wouldn't give a shit about you breaking in here, but I peeked in cause I was worried you were gonna get your pretty face kicked in if you got caught. And we can't have that," he growls.

He turns his attention fully back onto her. "But since I got you here, why don't you tell me what's really up, hmm?"

Thea Queen has posed:
"I can take care of myself."

Thea's eyes narrow, and her jaw shifts ever so slightly. She reaches for her bag now, the handles, and her head rocks back. "Not lying, actually." A single shrug lifts her shoulders, and she pads slowly towards the one, single exit that lies before her. The one that Logan is right in the middle of. "You know who owns this place? 'Cause, I do. And he's got a good chunk of the market in this area. Bratva. Ever hear of 'em?" She studies the man, and exhales in a chuffed breath. "You seriously don't look like one of their guys. No offense, but..

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have somewhere to be.."

Logan Howlett has posed:
He responds in Russian, muttering under his breath as he glances about the place. "Bratva, huh? Well, guess I might as well do my second good deed for the day and tear this place up, huh? I don't care about them selling party drugs to cute little rich girls, but I do have an issue with the human trafficking those guys get up to."

He steps out of the way, but crosses the office towards the desk. He then raises a booted foot and soundly kicks the computer tower. He kicks it with such surprising strength (Due to being reinforced with adamantium and all that) that the tower goes flying out the officer window with a smash, plummeting to the warehouse floor.

Thea Queen has posed:
As Logan moves out of the way, Thea is more than happy to start slipping through the doorway until-

Her shoulders rise, and a hand goes to her ears, and she actually yelps, "What are you doing? There's valuable infor--" ...mation. Her voice trails off as she finishes, "... in there.." Thea slouches and just looks.. dumbfounded before she shakes her head. "Right. I guess that works."

Thea takes that step fully through the door, though now she has to stop and slip on her high heels again to keep from walking through the glass from the other side. Given another second to recover, she actually bounces her head in a nod, "Okay.. effective, I'll give you that. I would have like to have gotten a few things first, but beggars can't be choosers?"

Logan Howlett has posed:
"Information, huh?," he asks, smirking a bit to himself. He glances out the window towards the tower on the ground below. "So the dealer stuff was bull?"

He turns around and begins yanking pictures and wall hangings off the wall of the office, looking for the likely hidden safe.

Assuming he finds what he is looking for, she may or may not see the blades slide from his hands...as he plunges them through the steel of the safe with ease, slicing the door off of it and tossing it aside.

Thea Queen has posed:
Dammit!

Thea leans against a pole on the outside of the office, looking.. bemused. "I hate you." She's not making any threats or any overtones that she's going to attack... just, a young woman who just.. over it. And, given the tone, she's probably not even serious about that.

She takes a few steps back to the office, just remaining outside of it. "No, actually, it's not. This is where my dealer gets his stuff. This place really is a warehouse of stuff for this section of the city. But, it's Bratva, and anything else we can get on him is.."

Oh my god..

"Did you just.."

Within, is paperwork. Dates, times of movements of 'shipments', whatever that means. Manifests of what are in the crates..

Reaching her hand out in request, it's slow and tentative, trembling slightly as if she is ready to pull back at the first hint of a 'bite', as it were. "Can I have..?"

Logan Howlett has posed:
"I did," he grunts.

He turns towards her, his gaze dipping over her as he considers for a moment. He claws SNIKT away, and he leans in to glance through the stuff inside. If he spots anything related to the movement of unwilling people, he snags it and pulls it out. Otherwise, he nods and steps back.

"All yours. Logan, by the way. I'm Logan."

She's been checked out often enough that she can recognize the look he gives her, before he turns to open the drawers on the desk, searching for hidden compartments.

Thea Queen has posed:
Thea looks back, and her eyes narrow again, and enters the room. "Oh, see.. now you're doing it." She's annoyed, and she throws paper off the desk to express her annoyance. "Fine."

Moving around the desk, Thea does pull paperwork from the safe without even looking at it, shoving it in her purse. She makes an irritated sound, eventually retrieving the papers she'd thrown. Dammit.

Rising fully again and straightening out, there's a tightlipped expression and a chuff of air that exits. "Thea. Thea Queen. And thank you."

While he's searching, Thea moves through the door again, taking a quick look around to make sure they didn't have uninvited warehouse tenants.

Logan Howlett has posed:
"Like the family?," he grunts, not glancing up from his exploration of the drawers. One by one he yanks them out of the desk to check under them, before he tosses them aside. He's rough with the search, but also vry good at it.

"That's where I know ya from. Had a picture of you from some magazine up on my wall for awhile," he says. He's joking, of course.

Right? It's hard to tell with his tone. Either way, he finishes searching the office and steps out beside her, sniffing a bit at the air.

Thea Queen has posed:
"Just like," Thea confirms. She's glancing back to the office and then over the floor. Brows rise at the thought of being a pin-up girl, and canting her head, she quips, "Mug shot?" She's got a pretty long arrest record.

Still, when he exits the office, she's got what she needs and looks across. "Get what you wanted?" Gesturing back at the office at the wreckage, Thea adds, "Human trafficking?" She'll have to talk to Ollie about that. If that's happening in Starling City, he should know about it. And they should do something about it.

Thea starts crossing the warehouse floor again, fully expecting to be followed. "Don't want to be late for ladies' choice at the club."

Logan Howlett has posed:
"Nah, some tabloid garbage. You looked good, though," Logan growls. He shrugs and glances over at her. "I wrecked the place. No useful info for me. S'fine, though."

"Russian mob thrives on it. Bringing the desperate in from Eastern Europe on promises, and keepin' them. Or straight up kidnapping. One of their main sources of income. They thrive on misery." He moves to follow her out of the warehouse, glancing about the place as he does so.