16625/Booourns

Booourns
Date of Scene:	19 December 2023
Location:	Level 4 - Recreation - The Roost
Synopsis:	Roy and Roxie look like they're going to canoodle, but have to find other plans. Alas.
Cast of Characters:	Roxanne Spaulding, Roy Harper, Phoebe Beacon

---

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
So her mission in Gotham did not go well at all. Naturally, that meant that she neededto take her mind off things, and so she wandered the better parts of Gotham trying to find something that wouldn't exactly get her into trouble.

And thus there's the Knight's Table. What sort of trouble could one get into a sports bar, right?

Not knowing much about the sportsball she wanders in, wrapped up in a navy peacoat to keep the chill outside. Upon shedding the coat, she wears a simple grey COLLEGE hoodie and a pair of snug fitting jeans, finished with some leather winter boots.

Making her way to one of the tables, she takes her seat and begins perusing the menu. There's an occasional glance at the TV when some hot ESPN analyst (I'm looking at you, Julian Edelman) goes on, before she looks back at the menu.

When the waitress finally arrives, she orders something simple. "I'll have the hefeweizen and the loaded fries."

Roy Harper has posed:
To put it mildly, Roy gets around. Especially as of late.

Some of that is just a part of the lifestyle. He works as an agent for the DEA afterall, currently on loan to SHIELD as well. Which means his work does pretty much take him all over the place. Layer that on with his activities as a costumed vigilante and, well, Roy is awfully well travelled for a young twenty-something.

Unfortunately those travels do sometimes take him into the slimiest of mudholes, the absolute worst places on the face of the earth. Places like Gotham City. Ugh. As part of the Outsiders their base is of course in Gotham. He has an actually room to crash in the city. But that doesn't mean he wants to, if he can possibly avoid it.

He has a little bit of class afterall. But just a little.

Regardless, he is in the city tonight, and he is actually looking to stay out of trouble for a change. Which is why he is in a sports bar. A drink or two, some football, what could go wrong?

So it is a surprise to hear a familiar voice nearby. Not so familiar to be well known, but recognizable and a small frown slips over Roy's features as he glances around, finally landing on Roxanne. Blinking in surprise, he pads over in her direction. "Of all the sports bars in all the world..." he starts, a small grin slipping over his features.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
Hory shieeeeet.

It's not like she recognizes him by his voice. They barely spoke. It was mostly that whole 'call me' mouthing and the tossing of a burner phone. SO lo and behold, when he starts trodding in her direction, she looks up and her eyes widen with clear surprise on her features.

"You stalking me? Wanting to make sure I keep out of trouble?" she asks with a soft chuckle of amusement. Surely, she knows it's probably just a major coincidence, but what girl doesn't want to think she has a protector from the shadows.

Motioning towards the empty seat in front of her, she continues to chuckle. "I was trying to get help from a friend here." she answers any potential question before he even asks. "Didnt turn out too well."

Roy Harper has posed:
Look, Roy's a secret agent. When he follows around a near stranger and keeps an inappropriate close eye on them it's not stalking. It's government sanctioned surveillance.

God, it's good to be him sometimes.

It would seem that they are both in for a bit of a shock on this particular evening. And while it seems ever so unlikely, it really is just a major coincidence. Probably. Leave it to both of their suspicious minds to come to whatever conclusions that they might like however.

"While I'm not above following attractive women around when they haven't called me -- even after I gave them a phone! -- no. This is just a pretty unlikely coincidence," the redheaded archer admits with a grin, sliding into the seat opposite her and setting his drink on the table in front of him.

"Any luck on that front?" he asks, tone mildly curious. He's still not entirely sure what went down at that club, and even with the briefly overheard explanation it seems almost too far-fetched to be true. But Roy has a very open mind.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
When Roy takes a seat, she leans forward, her elbows propping her up on the table as she looks at him. A coy smile curls onto her lips before she tilts her head, "So, you think I'm attractive then." she quips before taking a sip of her ice water that was already provided by the waitress.

"And he said to just forget Queelocke." That would be her cat-monkey-furby thing. "I think he's just a coward, or I'm not important enough. Or both." she explains, shrugging her shoulders as she takes in a long and deep breath to try to calm herself down.

"Queelocke isn't just some run of the mill catmonkey, you know."

Roy Harper has posed:
That is enough to get a flashed grin from the redheaded vigilante and he winks playfully across the table at her, but he doesn't bite, instead just taking a sip from his beer, hands casually wrapped around that cool glass as he leans ever so slightly forward in that seat.

"Clearly you underestimate me terribly. The sheer number of things that I don't know would positively stagger you," he quips back, giving a little shake of his head. Self-deprication? Or self-awareness? Either way, he's got it in spades.

He does grow a little more serious though as she explains her lack of luck in recruiting another helping hand to try and bring her... what? Friend? Pet? He's not entirely sure just what a cat-monkey-furby qualifies as? Except important to her, and really that's enough. "I'm sorry," he says genuinely. "Maybe he had his reasons, but yeah, that seems pretty cold."

"Either way, my offer still stands. When the time comes." Look, she isn't exactly a damsel in distress, but Roy's not very good at turning his back on anyone.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
Dang. He didn't take the bait. A girl wants to hear compliments when she fishes for it, but perhaps this is just a continued string of her bad luck.

"A wise manknows just how much he doesn't know." Roxanne says, remembering something along the lines during Lynch's training. "So while you might not be knowledgeable, you are wise." That's said with a faux zen bow. It would be serious if it wasn't for the toothy grin in the end.

"And he does, I'm just not privy to them. Can't exactly read minds." she says with a shrug. "And your offer will be taken. Ijust think, based on how the blonde reacted, that the guy is not exactly something you /and/ I can take on. I don't think we're vicious enough."

Roy Harper has posed:
It is true, Roy has certainly been known to mix business with pleasure. But he can keep his eye on the prize when he absolutely has to.

And this time doing that seems like it might be a wise-thing. Afterall, she has creditted him with being wise and though it is an open matter of debate on whether he can qualify for that particular honorific, he does have a few advantages at his disposal.

Like the fact that he is a governmental agent with access to information through those connections that go beyond the mundane. Like the fact that through the Outsiders he has access to the Bat-network. Through his ties to Team Arrow he has access to everything they can lay their hands on, and to the information of the Justice League.

He might be young, more then a little reckless, but damn, Roy is connected out the wazoo.

So when she makes the comment about needing a little more backup then just him he doesn't take offense, doesn't argue, doesn't let his pride make any promises he can't keep. He just dips his head towards her in apparent agreement.

"I, uuuh, took what I overheard. I tracked down some information on the guy who took your friend. Victor Creed. Yeah, he's one seriously bad dude."

To put it mildly.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
Nodding in the affirmative she speaks in hushed tones, making things look a bit more intimate than they really are.

"Yeah. Something about being a cannibal mutant or something like that?" Roxie says as she chews on her bottom lip. Tapping her fingers on the table idly, she sighs. "I dont think he took Queelocke for himself though. I think he was working for someone else."

And then she nosewrinkles as she laughs, "Though I don't know if you're going to believe me." she admits ruefully. "But, ever since the little guy found me, I've been having nightmares. Really bad ones. And there's always this guy. Kinda skinny. Definitely very goth, like dark Victorian goth, and kinda sexy in that brooding Angel from Buffy kinda way, ya know?"

And then she looks around once more, barely speaking above a whisper. "I thought he was just a figment of my imagination, until I saw him about a week ago in Manhattan."

Roy Harper has posed:
The Knights Table is not a club. But it is still a sports bar, there is still football blaring from all of the two million different televisions in the place, the loud chatter of conversations, the periodic cheers and other outbursts. The atmosphere is not exactly ideal for a quiet conversation, unless of course one wants to be lost in the crowd.

Besides, Roy isn't exactly concerned with how things look. Leaning close is about the only way to be heard without shouting and this isn't really the sort of discussion that they probably want just anyone listening in on.

"I don't know about a cannibal, but from everything I've read on him he is a stone cold killer who can heal from just about any sort of injury. You don't mess around with a guy like that," Roy conceeds. It takes a lot to truly make him afraid. He's stood toe to toe against some pretty nasty threats without blinking. But Creed? He's scary.

"I've seen a lot. And I can believe a lot. Try me," he says quietly.

Nightmares are a little outside his field of expertise, admittedly. But he is willing to listen if nothing else and he does just that, without any judgement, not even a disbelieving look cast her way. "Well, if you saw him I would say that makes a pretty good case that it is not just your imagination. And we better get your friend back, somehow."

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
A warm smile forms on her features as she isn't getting the skeptical o_O look that most people give her when she talks about it. "Thanks." and then she realizes she never got his name. She just knows his phone number. "And I'm Roxanne by the way, though most people call me Roxie."

With introductions said and done, at least on her end, she nods in agreement at trying to get Queelocke back. "So, I might as well tell you why he's so important. He's one of the last of his kind, an interdimensional being, that can turn into portals that connect one place to another or even one dimension to another."

So why didn't she use him to get away then?

"It just takes time for him to amp up to turn into it, especially the further the distance."

Roy Harper has posed:
There is something for being said for maintaining an air of mystery. All broody and dark and enigmatic.

But those kind of guys live in Gotham, and Roy really doesn't want to have to relocate here on a permanent basis. He will grudgingly allow that business is just going to bring him here now and then, there's no getting around it. But he's not about to wallow in it.

"Roy," he offers in return. For a secret agent and a vigilante he's not all that great about keeping any sort of secret identity. No false identities, no clever disguises. Hell, he doesn't even dye his hair. "Or you can call me Arsenal if you'd rather. That's kinda more badass, but it doesn't exactly blend in," he admits.

Listening to her explain just what Queelocke is, what he can do, Roy nods his head slowly. "Sounds pretty impressive," he conceeds. "Certainly the kinda thing someone would want to get their hands on. And you're probably right, Creed is more likely to be a mercenary in all of this rather then the one after him. That might be to our advantage at least."

Sometimes you need to look on the bright side. Wherever you can find it.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
"I doubt Creed would know what Queelocke can do. There's /no/ way." Because most certainly his employer wouldn't tell him for fear of Creed trying to gain leverage or deciding to keep the creature himself.

"And Roy." a beat. Roxie looks over him as she purses her lips. "I would've imagined you as a Scott." Cause he does kind of look like Cyclops depending on the comic.

"And no offense, but I'm not calling you Arsenal." That would be like being called Freefall. It would be weird.

"But if you can look up where Creed's been, maybe we can find out where his employer is going to meet him?"

Roy Harper has posed:
It certainly stands to reason. No one with the least bit of sense would trust Creed, certainly not with information that he might make use of. So Roy nods his agreement at her particular assessment. "You're probably right. If we can find out who hired him it might be a lot easier to get your friend back from them then from Creed himself," the redheaded agent says thoughtfully.

A Scott? Him? A Scott? That is positively offensive, and Roy makes a face at her. "Really? Well, I'll try not to hold that against you," he retorts, though a faint grin slides over his features. He's pretty hard to insult. Especially when there's an attractive woman involved.

"Fine, fine. Just don't call me Scott at least. You'll give me a complex," he agrees with a sigh. One of these days, he'll get someone to call him Arsenal.

"And I'll see what I can do. Mostly I had access to a lot of background on the guy. I can't make any promises about finding out enough to actually figure out where he's going to be," he admits, growing serious once more. But this is important and he really doesn't want to disappoint her. "But I'll try."

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
It's then that she hrmms for a few moments and puts out a hand, palm up. Looking towards him expectantly, she simply waits.

What exactly is she waiting for? Not exactly having the patience of a saint, Roxie asks, "Your phone? I can give you my number so if you find anything you can call me. I don't do fancy burners. I can barely afford my Cricket mobile phone." Oh dang, she's on Cricket? Yeah, she must be on the struggling-side of things.

"And it's appreciated. A girl like me has to depend on the kindness of handsome strangers, right?"

Roy Harper has posed:
It is not, in fact, immediately clear just what Roxie is hoping for when she sticks out her hand. And in truth, she very nearly manages to get Roy to give her five, though fortunately her patience gives out before he can embarass himself.

Comprehension dawns on his features. There's not a whole lot of shame in Roy, so he only grins, pulling out his phone and unlocking it before handing it over to her with brow arching above one eye. "You expect that I'll be able to hunt down your violent assailant for you, track him real time but you think that I won't be able to find you to get in touch without your phone number?" he teases.

Well, maybe he could. But this does make things a whole lot easier.

"Hey, it's the least I can do. And look at it this way. It's way better to be reliant on the kindness of handsome strangers, like me. Totally handsome right here. Well, then reliant on help from completely average looking strangers. That's when you know you really have some problems facing you."

Roy has... an interesting way of looking at things sometimes.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
With the phone in hand, she tilts her head as she gives him a quizzical look. "Well, if you dont want my number, I guess I could give you one of those HAHA, you're a loser, numbers." Roxie replies with a cheeky little grin on her features.

Fortunately for him, she puts in her fullname of Roxanne Spaulding, and her actual phone number. She even sends a text to her phone so she can prove its hers.

"And I figured you could find me, but it's more of wanting to give you my number. Got a problem with that?" she asks, clucking her tongue on the inside of her cheek.

Handing the phone back to him, she nods in agreement. "It's true. There's been scientific studies on the efficacy of asking for help from a handsome stranger than an average looking strange. I think it was 69% more effective."

Yes, she can dip into juvenile humor at times.

Roy Harper has posed:
"Hey now," Roy protests mildly, grin still etched across his expression. "I never said that I didn't /want/ it. So don't go and play me like that," he urges with a little chuckle, smirking back at her.

Really, despite the teasing he never really expects her to play it anything but straight with him, though he doesn't insist that she doesn't have to prove it either, as that text goes through. Only then does the redhead slip it back into his pocket.

"As it so happens I do not have a problem with it," he agrees lightly. "In point of fact, I greatly appreciate it. It should make it much easier to rely on an actual number rather then wildly unlikely circumstances to run into you in a completely different city." he agrees with that cocky-little grin.

"Just so you know, I completely and utterly believe your figures. They seen extreneky legitimate to me and I think conclusively, and very sexily, proves my point.

"The best kind of conclusion." Fortunately, or not, Roxie isn't likely to find a font of maturity in Roy.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
Her internal monologue most definitely sounds like Zapp Brannigan now with the 'OH YEAAAH.'

Suppressing a soft chuckle at her own internalized joke, she gives him a shit eating grin. "And here I was thinking you'd challenge me by insisting I provide the actual peer reviewed paper that had those figures so we can discuss it back at your place, but alas..." Roxie says with feigned disappointment, even going as far as to put her arm over her forehead melodramatically.

A pregnant pause and another chuckle later, she sticks her tongue out towards him. Sometimes, immaturity is the only answer to a relatively heavy topic like having your catmonkeyalien getting kidnapped.

With her gaze flitting about, it seems she's run out of quippy things to say, and so she just hrmms, "Soooooo..."

Roy Harper has posed:
Sometimes you have to keep things light. If only not to dwell on all the bad things.

Roy certainly gets that. He has been on the wrong side of things often enough. She did, afterall, peg him as a guy with issues back at the club and it certainly is not an unfair assessment by any means.

"Wow, that would have been a great idea actually. I'll definitely have to keep that in mind," Roy says with a quirk of his mouth. "The thing is, my fear would be that you would actually call my bluff and insist on presenting paper after scientific paper that really was done on that particular question. And I would have to sit through it on. Caught by my own cleverness," he says, giving a mock shudder, "Nooooooo thank you."

Facts and figures makes Roy's brain turn off. He's more of a gut instinct kind of guy.

"So. After having your friend kidnapped, and having another one refuse to help, tell me what you need Roxanne Spaulding," the redhead says earnestly. "Do you need me to get you another drink? Or do you need to get out of here?"

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
"I'm far too dumb to actually read those things." Roxie says somewhat self depricatingly. "My sister." a beat. "My half-sister." A clone of her half-sister? It's all so very confusing. "She got the brains in the family." a beat. "And the looks." another beat. "And the height."

Getting reminded of her inferiority complex to Caitlin, she looks down for a few moments before she shakes it off and looks up to Roy, meeting his gaze as he asks what she wants to do.

Leaning forward,she flashes her pearly whites in his direction. "I think I need to get out of here."

Roy Harper has posed:
Roy has no issues with spending an afternoon or evening in front of the television and watching whatever sport happens to be in season right now. But it is not exactly something that he lives and dies for. Nor has he so much as glances towards any of the dozens of screens that seem to cover virtually every available surface in this sports bar since he sat down with her.

In short, cutting his night out early is not exactly going to devestate him.

"Well, see the way I figure it you're smart enough to ask for my help. *And* to give me your number, so while I can't comment on your genius status, you seem pretty smart to me," the redhead points out with a grin, tipping his head her way as he polishes off the beer in front of him.

"As far as height, over-rated," he adds. But then he doesn't break six feet either, so he might be biased. "Just makes you a bigger target." Which is technically true. "And as far as looks go?" he starts, pausing to make a show of looking her up and down. "Look, I don't know your sister, but I think I can safely say you're doing just fine in that department," he insists with a toothy grin of his own.

Slipping out of that seat, he holds out a hand to her. "Come on. Time to get out of here."

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
Oh, if he only found out who her half-sister was, then that opinion might change.

Not wanting to risk it, she just graciously accepts the compliment, that she was fishing for anyway, and takes the offered hand. Easing up from her seat, she lets her fingers entwine with his. "Lead the way!" she says with a fistpump in the other hand.

Reaching into her purse, she pays for her drink, that she presumably drank during the conversation at some point, and the fries which remain mostly uneaten.

"So where are we off to, handsome?"

Roy Harper has posed:
The sheer volumn drops by about twenty million decibles as soon as they are back out on the street, under Gotham's night skies and away from the cheering crowds and all those televisions turned up way too loud. If nothing else it should make it a little easier to talk, not that Roy appears to be in any big hurry to put a lot of distance between them.

"That all depends on you," Roy replies with a smile, the street lights at least providing little oases of illumination in the otherwise dark evening. "If you just need a little air, well, I guess technically Gotham has that," he allows, glancing around the street and making a face. "I'm happy to be company, a sounding board or just a silent companion while you work everything out."

"Or, if you're actually from New York and your business is done here, I can always give you a lift back there." Fortunately New York and Gotham aren't far at all. "Or if you need to I actually have a place you can crash for the night not far from here. Or if what you need is a distraction, I think I can probably help you with that too."

Flashing a grin her way, Roy throws his arms wide. "I'm your Swiss-army knife, baby. Whatever you need, I have the right tool for the job."

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
With his arms wide, she steps forward and wraps her arms around his shoulders, pressing herself flush against him. It's a test more than anything to see how he reacts. "That's a dangerous proposition, Roy." Roxie replies with an almost predatory grin.

She may have learned a thing or two from Nicole during her I.O training days.

"But can I do..." and she hrmms, "A distraction. Company. And a place to crash. How does that sound?" she asks.

Most notably, she still has her arms around him.

Roy Harper has posed:
The Roost is not all that far away, and under the circumstances might be the most appropriate option.

It doesn't seem likely that Creed would have any reason to hunt her down now that he has what he wants. Aside from possibly the fact that he is apparently a murderous psychopath. Still, it never hurts to show a certain amount of caution.

When she steps in, when she presses close those arms don't stay spread wide for long, instead folding around the most pleasant of armfuls rather swiftly, grin sliding back over the redhead's face. "I'm all about the dangerous propositions beautiful," he counters, leaning in close until mere inches seperate them.

Fingers play at the fringe of her hair for a moment, inching along the back of her neck. "Those sound like pretty good picks from the catalogue to me," he murmurs. "My bike's just across the street if you need a lift. Otherwise I promise to go as slow as you need to keep up," he adds, lips twitching in a surpressed smile once more.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
Feeling those strong arms wrap around her protectively causes her to shiver in his grasp while closing her eyes to just savor the moment. Opening them slowly, she finds him moving a bit closer until her lips are oh so deliciously close to his. Leaning into his hand as they run through her hair,she offers him a dopey little smile.

"I just want to feel safe. I've been sort of panicky in my apartment back in Manhattan. I don't want to go back there yet." she admits.

"But yeah, if we go there, can you stay the night?" she asks before looking towards the bike, and she motions for him to lead the way. She simply doesn't want to move away from his warm embrace just as of yet.

Roy Harper has posed:
While he might be something of a thrillseeker, have a tendancy to seek out trouble and mischief in equal measure, that doesn't mean that Roy doesn't have a protective streak.

He's not just in the hero biz for the excitement afterall. He does earnestly want to help.

But it doesn't mean that he can't have a good time while doing it though.

"Well, I can't say that I often make people, especially attractive women, feel particularly safe. But under the circumstances I can see how I might qualify," Roy admits with a quiet chuckle, tightening his arms around her for just a moment.

She's made it clear that she has a whole lot going on, that there are a lot of things for her to worry about. But she is also right there, right in his arms. And those lips are awfully inviting. He's not a saint afterall.

For just a moment the redheaded archer leans in, brushes his lips across her own softly, once and then again. Then, leaning back, Roy flashes a grin her way. "I won't leave you alone," he promises. Then, stepping back he slips a hand into one of hers, glancing up and down the street before trotting across the pavement to their waiting ride.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
Is it one of those swoony kisses? Yes, and if anything, Roxanne Spaulding is an absolute sucker for one of those.

When his lips softly brush against hers in that tender kiss, she raises her back leg and returns the kiss as she brushes her fingers against his cheeks. Her cheeks burn a bright tinge of red as her fingers entwine with his, and she lets him lead the way.

Once at the ride, she checks to see if there are any helmets. Safety first, right? Whether or not there is one, she mounts the bike behind him and wraps her arms around his broad torso, squeezing tightly to hang on for dear life when he starts the throttle so they can go zoom zoom.

The entire time, she buries her face in his back, taking in his masculine scent, even as the wind whips by as they ride through Gotham.

Roy Harper has posed:
Has Roy ever been known to ride without a helmet? Yes he has. It's not exactly the smartest thing one can do -- not even close -- but he also jumps out of airplanes and throws himself into the line of fire so he's not really a safety first kinda guy. Sometimes you just want to feel the wind rushing through your hair.

But winter is pretty much upon them. In Gotham. He has no particular desire to have a cold rush blast him in the face, nor drink up what passes for fresh air here.

Long story short, there are indeed a pair of helmets waiting for them.

Settling on the bike, it comes alive with a thrum, engine revving a couple of times as he lets her get settled. Somewhat surprisingly, his voice sounds in her helmet, perfectly clear. "There's an intercom system. You need anything, if I'm going to fast just let me know."

Handy that.

Then they are off. And as promised, the redhead does not exactly take it slow, the motorcycle lurching ahead, starting to race through the city streets. He leans into each corner, and if it all makes her cling a little tighter, well, bonus for him, right?

Still, it won't be long before the long, twisting route leads them to a long underground passage, and a garage complex somewhere on the outskirts of the city.

"That wasn't so bad, right?" he asks her, tugging off that helmet and flashing a grin towards his passenger.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
The comm system in the helmet is definitely surprising, but considering he also had a portable bow and arrow with a variety of different arrow heads, should this really be a surprise?

The sharp turns on the way to the Roost definitely causes her to cling onto him, hanging on for dear life. Through the comm system, he can hear a little squeak, before a hearty laugh when he drives straight once more after each curve, as the adrenaline is clearly pumping through her system.

When they finally arrive in that garage, Roxie takes in a long and deep breath, trying to slow her heart rate and calm down. So naturally, he gets off the bike first, and when he pulls off his helmet, she can't help but smirk.

Pulling off hers, she sets it on the bike before stepping forward once more. This time, she's a little bit more aggressive with her movements while wrapping her arms around his shoulder. "Blame the adrenaline." she whispers before leaning in to press her lips against his in a much more heated kiss than the relatively chaste one earlier.

Roy Harper has posed:
He might be one of the good guys. But no one ever said that meant that Roy Harper had to play particularly fair. He's certainly not above staking a deck or two in his favor. However he can manage that.

While the little squeaks might be a hint that he is pushing things a little hard, the laughs that play in his ears as they come out of each turn, those arms around him tell a more complete story. Clearly she can take what he is dishing out. And maybe, just maybe it might help her get her mind off her recent problems.

Not a bad side benefit either.

Hooking his helmet over the front end of the motorcycle, Roy's grin only grows as she joins him, when she doesn't hesitate to step in close and drape her arms around him once more. He doesn't get a chance to retort, but that doesn't seem to bother the redhead in the least.

Probably because his lips are suddenly occupied with things much more fun then even trading quips.

That kiss is returned, hot and eager and Roy's arms wrap around her in turn, holding her tight to him. Lips and tongue dance with hers and the fact that they stand in the middle of some secret underground garage somewhere seems to be completely lost.

Even when he draws back for a moment, Roy's grin is quick to return. "Are you sure you don't mean thank the adrenaline?" he asks lightly.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
When the kiss is broken, she pants and chuckles, full of mirth, before bonking her forehead against his own.

"Yes, thank goodness for the adrenaline." she says softly, still pressed flush against his solid, sturdy frame. It's only after a few moments does she realize that she's not in Kansas anymore, as she looks around the carpark with raised brows.

"Where are we? Your place?" and then she squints for a few moments.

"You aren't a secret billionaire with a superhero cave, are you? Cause that's pretty cliche." she teases.

Roy Harper has posed:
"Not exactly," comes Roy's immediate reply.

Look, Roy has a lot of bases of operations. Only none of them are really his per se. There is the Arrowcave in Starling City. The Arrowcave in New York City because two is always better then one. There is the Triskelion in Upstate New York. But this is the handy, dandy one in Gotham.

"We call it the Roost. It does kinda serve as headquarters for a team I'm on," the redhead admits, taking her by the hand once more and starting to lead her towards the elevator. "If you want to feel safe, well, lets just say that hopefully this will help a little," he offers up with a grin.

"Come on, I'll show you around," he suggests before the grin slides back firmly in place. "Then we can see about taking your mind off all of your troubles..."

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
Oh, it seems she has a knight in red armor. How swoony.

Upon finding out he's on a team, she raises her brows and seems more than a little bit impressed. "The Roost." And she thinks of the various vigilantes in Gotham that she would be aware of. There's always the Boy Wonder. "So does Robin hang out here too?"

It's a question that makes sense from her perspective. Birds roost and all.

"This is an extra layer of feeling safe. Even if he could track me here, I doubt he'd do anything considering it looks like a superhero hideout."

Roxanne nods as he offers the tour. "Sure, show me around." a beat. "You aren't trying to recruit me because I can control one of the fundamental forces, are you?"

Roy Harper has posed:
The elevator pings and the doors slide open after a moment, leaving Roy to motion for her to slip inside. Oh so gentlemanly, that's him.

Then he joins her and the elevator starts to whisk them up into the base proper.

Her guess draws a laugh from him and the redhead dips his head her way. "Close. Red Robin," he offers. Then again, there's thirty Robins or so, right, or at least there have been. So it's still pretty much true.

"And yes, the thought had occured to me. It also occured to me that he was really pissed at me, so it could be me he's tracking. So I don't mind being surrounded by a friendly face or two," Roy admits wryly, giving a shrug of his shoulders.

The doors ping open as the lift comes to a halt, revealling well, what looks to be a fairly well appointed rec room. "Our lounging area to watch tv, play video games or otherwise hangout when there isn't some urgent mission pressing. That sort of thing," he says. "There's a kitchen back that way, other little necessities," he says before glancing her way once more, giving a quiet laugh. Though his expression turns thoughtful.

"I hadn't actually thought of that, but I suppose I should try to make my pitch. Put all my persuassive powers to work," he suggests, waggling his brows at her. "Seems like you have enough other things on your mind, but if it's ever something that interests you..." he says, giving another little shrug and a wink. "Well, now you have an inside contact."

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
"Red Robin is a burger place." Roxie replies completely deadpan.

But when the topic goes back to Creed, she frowns and nods. "You did hit him pretty hard with your arrows. You were far more effective than two mutants." Her eyes widen and she puts a hand over her lips, looking around with an oops. "Uh, you didn't hear that."

It's not her place to out fellow metahumans. Its tacky and gauche.

"Is this a headquarters or is this a literal mancave?" she comments, glancing about before she hrmms, "All you're missing is a kegerator and a video game console to truly make it one." That's what happens when you hang around Grunge too much and hear his aspirations in having a mancave.

Then at the pitch, she nods. "I do think if you're part of the package deal, I don't think I'd mind, but I'm sure you can give me your pitch afterwards."

Roy Harper has posed:
Roy's lips twitch. Chances are that the next time he runs into Tim the redheaded archer will be sniffing the air saying 'I smell burgers. Does anyone else smell burgers?'.

It might be amazing that Roy has any friends at all. Or maybe they're all very patient.

Again, the redhead laughs, casting a smirk towards her and then motions towards the shelf beneath the large television. "Behold. If you mean the old fashion arcade ones, well, I promise you I argued for one..." he says lightly. Because of course he did. If anyone on the team would have, it certainly would have been him.

"You won't find a kegerator either," he conceeds. There's no way he can see Tim springing for something like that, no matter how deviously Roy might try to trick him. "But there's a library and a lot of other things too," he adds wryly. "I figured I might show you what you might actually get a little use of while you're here, but if you want I can show you the training room instead?" he offers with a faint smirk.

"Hey, we can put the wrestling mats to work. Two out of three falls. I promise not to pin you too quick."

He's so generous.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
"I'll have you know, I am quite the expert in fighting games. Mortal Kombat and Street Fighter? Totally my jam." Did she just challenge him to a fighting game? If it's there, then she definitely just did.

"Oooh, so this is a sophisticated frat house." Roxie teases at the mention of the library.

"Training room? Is it like a holodeck where hard light projections come on and you can zap them?" Perhaps she's watched too much sci-fi. Again, she will blame Grunge for that as his interests quickly became hers.

"Or is more like a firing range where you can go pewpew! with your arrows." Then she remembers something. "And oh, can you do that really sexy Robinhood thing where you get a bullseye, then split the arrow with another arrow?"

The mention of the wrestling mat causes her to laugh. "If you're wanting to pin me down, Roy, all you need to do is ask."

Apparently, so is she. Generous that is.

Roy Harper has posed:
As a general rule, it might not be the absolute best idea in the world to bring relative strangers to a secret base.

They are usually secret for a reason, for one thing. And it's not just Roy's secret afterall.

But in Roy's defense it is not as if they took the most direct route or wandered in through the front door. There is also the fact that there are only so many good places to hide from someone like Victor Creed, and after shooting him with a few crossbow bolts and only later finding out just what he managed to get himself involved in, Roy wouldn't exactly mind sleeping in a relatively secure place for the next little while.

He's also not very good at turning his back on anyone in need, even less so an attractive woman, so there is that.

But most of all, the redhead is just pretty bad at following the rules. They're there to be broken right? He's pretty sure he read that, or say that, or had someone tell him that at some point in his young life. And he has really, truly taken it to heart.

Which is why Roy and Roxie are currently in the Rec Room of the Roost. Looking at them one would not exactly get the impression that they could be hunted by a psycho killer as they speak, but appearances can be deceiving.

"Hey, I'm not doubting your video game cred," he protests mildly. "I entirely hold out the possibility that you can kick my ass at Mortal Kombat or Street Fighter or your game of choice," the redhead assures his guest before a grin slides over his features. "I'm just saying that I'm not entirely opposed to putting it to the test. Maybe making a wager over the possibility," he notes.

"And I'll have you know that my arrows don't pewpew. They twang." he protests mildly. "For the record I have indeed split an arrow with another one and if you're a good girl I'll even show you later," he promises flippantly.

"Now, did you want to continue the tour? Crash here for a bit and get your game on?" he suggests. "Ooooooorrr, I do believe I promised a distraction..."

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
"You're on. I'll even balance things out by offering some Mario Kart. I'm terrible at that game." Or is she? Is Roxie just setting him up for future failure and potential embarassment? Who knows?

Laughing, she gives him an apologetic grin for the mistaken sound. "Okay *twang* instead of pewpew!" she says before stepping forward once more, while wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

"Hrmm. I'm amenable to any of those options, but if I have to choose just one of the options..." and she lets out a melodramatic sigh.

"While I do feel much safer from Creed now with you, I could use something to relax and not think about that psycho killer. I mean, that's why we came here, right? To feel safe and to not think about things?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Thought I heard a new voice."

    At least she had notice enough to put on a domino, blue lenses glowing dully in the light. The woman has a red-and-white hairwrap around her head, and is wearing a T-shirt with Santa riding a T-Rex from a museum and a pair of jeans splattered with food dye.

    She does look between Roy, who has arms wrapped around his shoulders and Roxie with an amused expression, and one can maybe sense that her eyebrows are raised up behind the mask.

    "Either of you want a cookie or a pop while I'm absolutely not being nosy about who's in the rec room?"

Roy Harper has posed:
Look, it's not like Roy expected to have the run of the Roost. Okay, maybe he did. Most of the members of the Outsiders have a fair bit going on in their sidelines afterall. Certainly Roy does, between his work with the DEA and SHIELD, along with Team Arrow.

But at the very least he wasn't trying to be sneaky about their stopover. Which is probably a good thing. Because as he hears a familiar voice behind him, it is pretty apparent that he has failed.

And at such an inconvenient time too.

Sneaking about is for Bats and other creatures that flap in the sky. He's Arsenal. He's supposed to be loud and showy and not terribly discrete.

So yes, cookiees. That does seem awfully appropriate.

If only because the redheaded archer has been caught with his hand in the cookiee jar. Or close enough at any rate.

He doesn't really do embarassment though and instead a wry twist of his lips is flashed towards his guest. "Hold that thought," he urges, not entirely slipping out of that embrace, just sliding to her side, his own arm wrapped around Roxanne's back.

"Roxie, let me introduce you to Balm. Balm, Roxie. We're kind of in a spot of trouble," Roy admits with a shrug of his shoulders and a disarming smile. Really, imagine that. It must be hard to believe. "And needed somewhere to lay low, at least for the night."

Glancing between the two, Roy chimes in again. "So. Cookiees. I believe something was said about cookiees?"

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
Poor Arsenal getting cockblocked by a teammate. WOMP WOMP.

Hearing the unfamiliar voice, smoothly, she looks towards the newcomer with a simple, if slightly curt bow of her head. "Hi." she says softly.

And just like Roy, it seems that Roxie does not do embarassment. At least not when it comes to things like this. There are most certainly been times where she or one of her former teammates was caught eating a cookie.

"As long as it's not oatmeal raisin." She makes a face of disgust at that. "I have been tricked numerous times, by seeing those from afar, thinking it's a chocolate chip only to be surprised in the worst way."

At the mention of trouble, she figures she should clarify. "Psychokiller cannibal guy took my Queelocke."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "You should have sent a message ahead." Balm replies to Roy. "Coulda had a bed made up for her in one of the spare rooms instead of having her camp out in the open where she might see Impulse in his jammies." she offers as a joke. Of course Bart didn't live in the Roost. But he does investigate alerts.

    She ducks back into the kitchen for a moment and returns with a plate of cookies that still have a little steam rising up from them.

    "Nah, no Oatmeal Raisin. THough they're not bad if you're expecting... y'know. Oatmeal Raisin. These are called Cherry Tye-Dyes--" she points to the red-blue-yellow cookies that definitely smell like Cherry.

    "And I've got snickerdoodles. The oven here's bigger than the one in my apartment --"

    And her lips form a moue, her shoulders slacking a bit.

    "And they're less likely to be eaten by a Ghostwhile I'm baking here."

Roy Harper has posed:
Yup, totally should have sent a message ahead. And one of the spare rooms definitely needs to be made up. That is exactly what Roy had in mind and certainly no other agendas or intentions in mind. Absolutely not. Nope.

"Eh, you never know who is going to be about and I didn't want to disturb anyone," the redhead offers up with a small shrug of his shoulders before a small smirk slides over his expression. "And give me some credit here. It's not like I was going to plunk her on the couch and say good luck or anything." That would just be rude.

"And for the record, I can make up a bed you know, it's not that big a hassle." The fact that his own bed is so rarely properly made is not a reflexion on the fact that he is unable to do it. It is a reflexion of the fact that he doesn't want to do it. There is a big difference.

However any righteous indignation that Roy might feel in regards to the possibly illusionary questioning of his homemaking skills is quickly dampened by the appearance of cookies, and with arm still around Roxie, he heads over to look over the Cherry Tye-Dyes.

He does not make a bee-line or anything. He's too cool for that.

"One of each?" he suggests hopefully, at the very least stealing one of the red-blue-yellow cookiees and taking a bite.

"Yeah, I do all my baking here for the same reason," he adds, oh so deadpan.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
Tilting her head at the mention of a spare bed, she looks to Balm and then to Roy with her brows furrowed. "I didn't think he had any intention of us sleeping."

A pregnant pause afterwards as she hears about the couch.

"I think the only thing he really needed was good soundproofing." Roxie looks towards the archer and hrmms, "Your room well sound-proofed? I tend to get loud." she says rather unabashedly.

With his arm still around her waist, she has no choice but to follow him into the kitchen, while peering at the cookies. "Can't say I've had one before. There's a first time for everything, right? And thank you." she says, picking one up before raising it in the air like a toast before nomming.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Balm's expressions flattens.

    "Yeah, that's more in line with what I thought was going on." she states cooly. "The entire place is soundproofed. However we have two members with excellent hearing, one member who has tactile telepathy, someone who watches the seismic and sound levels, and I'm the de-facto medical personnel so there's probably a scan of the three of us right now in my alert folder." Balm states.

    "Basically if someone's done in the Roost, we all generally get to hear about it sooner or later."

    Yeah. Not something. Someone.

Roy Harper has posed:
Well that turned a little frosty.

For all of his seeming indifference for what other people might think, it isn't an issue with not being able to read a situation. The redheaded archer can do that just fine.

Arching a brow as Phoebe goes over some of the various capablities of their members, Roy offers a disarming smile. "So I take it that's a no to the second cookiee then?" he says with a twitch of his lips.

Despite the faintly amused undertones, he holds up a hand and gives a shake of his head. "Not to worry Balm. Victor Creed isn't really someone to mess around with, but my troubles are mine. It was impolite to impose when there are sometimes people around," he agrees casually.

"I can make other arrangements. No need to worry about seismic sensors and tactile telepathy," he promises breezily.

Indeed, decision made, Roy purses lips, already working through other alternatives. "Sorry Rox, not exactly what I had in mind," he says casually. "Never fear and always have a backup in mind," he grins.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
Upon hearing about the various capabilities of the members, Roxie's eyes widen as she playfully winks at Balm, "So what you're saying is that y'all are interested in being voyeurs." A beat. "That's kinda hot."

Turning to Roy, she grins toothily, "You know, we might not even need to go to your room for said distraction. It seems there's already interest in being an audience." she says, flashing her pearly whites in a not-so-innocent manner.

Then as he mentions other arrangements, she ahhhs and nods slowly. "I mean, we could just go to a hotel, but I'll have to put a repulsive gravity bubble just in case Creed happens to sniff us out." she says, pondering how they could both be relaxed and at ease, while actually being safe from potential attacks.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "-- Victor Creed? The one with the big issue with Scout and X-23's Genetic Donor?" she pauses, and frowns. "There's been rumblings that he's been hanging around Gotham causing trouble..." she seems to frown a moment, and then hands the tray of cookies and a couple of sodas over to the two.

    "More of a warning. I said we'd hear about it, not that we'd /care/. I just prefer to keep my stuff private. The whole 'I want to set people who touch me on fire' thing really dampens the sense of romance." she cracks a small smile, and she gives an upnod.

    "You mentioned he stole something from you, Rox?" she questions, her lips pursing again as she goes to occupy a chair in the rec room, perching on it, legs crossing as if she was expecting to leap out of the chair at any minute.

Roy Harper has posed:
"I'm not sure that Balm is in the mood to be teased," Roy says lightly to Roxanne though his tone refuses to shift from playful even as he starts towards the elevator.

When he is truly focused, Roy can be as detail oriented as the next vigilante out there on the street. But they all have their areas of interest, their special focus, their passions and admittedly Roy's have not been centered upon the various rivalries between mutants. Even when some of them are his teammates.

"Is that who that is? Huh," the redheaded archer offers up with a small shrug. "Honestly, I didn't connect that. When we ran into him in a club back in New York and he made his move on Roxie, I just overheard his name from a couple of others who plainly knew him. A Douglas Ramsay and Roberto Da Costa." Yes, he ran them too when he did his little search from Creed. See? Detail oriented. When he needs to be. "I just pulled up his SHIELD file and perused it. Not much in there about whatever rivalries he had. But the case files were enough to give one nightmares," he admits.

And Roy's seen a lot. It takes something extra special to give him nightmares.

The matter of Queelocke he leaves to Roxanne. He's pretty sure that he couldn't do it justice. No, he knows damn well that he couldn't do it justice.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
"Queelocke, my monkeyalienthing pet."

It's a simple enough answer, and she nods, sighing before she places a soft kiss on Roy's cheek.

"You're a sweetie, but your teammate clearly wants to cockblock. I also came here to NOT think about what's happening with Creed, so respectfully, I'll just go back to my hotel." she says softly, before looking towards Balm, "It's probably what she wants."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "What I wanted was more information on why a psychotic killer assassin was chasing you down. I really don't care what Roy does in his off-time since I really just was in the place to use the oven. You're going to have to take Roy to task for that one. Bringing an unknown person into a vigilante base, girl's gotta let someone else know that there's going to be folks who are going to know 'bout it. I respect other people's privacy, just don't know what level the two of you are at." Phoebe goes to stand up, and gives an upnod to Roy.

    "I'm the only one in, for what it's worth. Give me fifteen and you'll have the place to yourselves. But do me a favor, and the monkeyalienpet -- shoot me a message with what it looks like, or pics. If it's in Gotham we can see about recovering it if it gets sold to the black market. Nice thing about this group is that we have marginal Bat supervision."

Roy Harper has posed:
Flashing a grin towards Roxie and giving a little shake of his head Roy pauses by the elevator. "I don't think it's the deal you think it is, regardless of the frosty vibes. People have their own comfort levels," he says with a shrug of acceptance. "But this was probably a bad idea. It just seemed like a poor idea to leave things to a public place if Creed really is out there. No need to put a bunch of innocents at risk when there was an alternative.

While Roy doesn't seem particularly phased and while that one arm remains wrapped around Roxie he lifts that other hand in casual goodbye to his teammate. "Don't worry about it. We're out. Do whatcha gotta do," he says.

"Seems pretty likely that Creed was contracted. Doesn't seem like his style otherwise, least from what I read. But I'll shoot you a description and if you see something pop up great. Doesn't hurt to cover the bases.

It would seem that Gotham has proven to be a little unlucky for the both of them on this trip. "See, I told you nothing good ever happens in this city."

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
How would one describe queelocke? Mulling over the question for the briefest moments, she might as well describe the creature.

"It's green. It literally looks like a cross between a monkey and a cat. More feline features and a monkey body." And then she ahhs and remembers something, "It goes VROOT! and it can turn into an interdimensional given the right stimuli."

That latter reason is probably why Creed was contracted to steal it.

Her brows raise as it seems that the both of them are out. Roxie gives Roy a 'are you sure look', but doesn't question it as much before she follows him out of the headquarters.

"Gotham's a bitch like that, I guess."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Thank you. I'll contact the other Bats and put out information. If they try to trade it in the city or one of our allies hears about it, we'll let you know. I'll let X23 and Scout know about it too. Maybe they can help." Phoebe states, with a strained note in her voice as she retrieve the platter.

    "Green, vroot, feline features, ape body..." she murmurs quietly, prepping mentally the report she'll throw up to the OUtsiders and Bats.