16943/Paper, Scissors...

Paper, Scissors...
Date of Scene:	17 January 2024
Location:	Tribeca
Synopsis:	Flatline's work is interrupted by some nerd with a paper wolf-boar and Irie AKA Kid Flash, Fastest Girl Alive
Cast of Characters:	Flatline, Clara Jennings, Irie West

---

Flatline has posed:
    Tribeca is supposed to be a low-crime. A safe place of cobblestone streets and industrial buildings that have been converted into lofts for the wealthier Manhattanites who can afford to live there.

    Definitely not a pale girl in a dark hoodie that REEKS OF AXE BODY SPRAY why can she *taste it* this is horrible what asshole thought this was a good idea?!

    Flatline herself is languishing on a rooftop, from the stench. The cold? Eh. That doesn't bother her much.

    <How long is this jerk going to be? I have things to watch tonight. LadyBlue was supposed to release a new single midnight Seoul time and I'm pretty sure this guy is flirting with the bodega cashier.> she mutters in Japanese over a radio. <Can't the low-level guys take care of this? He's not going to have anything worth my time.>

    Meanwhile, inside a little bodega, the man is indeed flirting with the cashier, flaunting cash, expensive watches (he's wearing two), and even his $400 aviators.

    He's a giant jerk. And on top of it? This man -- one Dowton Henry by name -- is a dealer in stolen antiquities who just got rained out of an art show earlier, but THE HUMAN TORCH was there. So obviously all the cuties surrounded him and didn't pay any attention, so tonight he is *so free*.

Clara Jennings has posed:
    Theft is one of those gray areas for the Conservatory of Antiquities. Sometimes they care enough to retrieve objects. Sometimes the objects are stolen and put in a museum that is more secure and thus better serves the ultimate goal of keeping things safe and available for future generations. And then there are nuisances that need to be disabused of their trampling on sacred ground.

    Clara is not one who gets to decide just which one is which. She just follows orders. Tonight is a very special night, too. Her governess is busy having one of her first nights off in about fifteen years. This means the Director gets unfettered access to her, and he is so very, very eager to see what she is capable of.

    The paper master may spot Flatline. Or maybe she does not. Either way, she lands on the same rooftop, brought in on wings of paper. Unceremoniously they break apart, immediately taking on the form of a wolf... or a warthog.. or a bit of both.

    Intentional or not, Clara is now there, and it is hard to miss that she shares this space with someone else. Her first comment on the situation?

    "Thank god you are not one of those Bat people." They give her a hard time. But then, this is not Gotham, so she should not worry.

Irie West has posed:
    And suddenly there's an Irie. It's like she came out of nowhere, but in reality she's just very, very fast. So fast that she almost missed a familiar face when speeding through the streets of Tribeca, that she doubled back on herself to double check. Yup!

    "Hi!" she says brightly, giving a little wave to Clara. She's currently wearing a simple affair. Jeans, running shoes, a puffy yellow jacket to keep out the cold, and what looks like a hand knit beanie. Slung across her back is a branded backpack, red with the Flash logo emblazoned on its sides.

    "You were at my party the other day, right?" she asks Clara. "You were only there for a second. Did you manage to get a taco before you left? The tacos were very good. We didn't have any leftovers by the time the party was over."

    It's at about this time that she realizes that there's another person here too. "Oh, hi!" she says to Flatline, giving //her// a happy little wave. "Sorry to interrupt your brooding. There aren't many brooders here in NYC. They're usually all out in Gotham. My name is Irie! What's yours?"

Flatline has posed:
    Gray areas, shmay areas. Flatline had orders handed down from 'a greater power' (who calls himself Lord Death Man, used to be a yoga instructor, things are weird), and the pale girl was giving a roll of her eyes before she registers the fluttering of paper.

    "... nande kuso...?" she questions, her eyebrows rising and her lips pursing as she regards Clara landing nearby.

    "Uh. Sooo... small rooftop." she states in greeting, and blinks a moment as the winds change. HEr spikey hair flips to the other side as her eyes go wide and then Irie is present.

    "What the heck is this, amature night?!" she complains, and she takes a deep breath, letting it go, and she points at Clara. "Buzz off papercut."

    And she points at Irie: "I know better than to tangle with your kind. Yikes. Double Yikes. There's a reason why speedsters are terrifying!" she comments, and she points at the flash symbol on her backpack.

    The Bodega door opens.

    "And I've gotta see a guy about a thing." she states.

    Dowton struck out. His hands are in his pockets, expensive watches showing, and the plastic bag with 'have a nice day' is swinging from his wrist.

    Flatline rolls off the rooftop. She pulls a pair of her throwing knives, breathing out slowly as she stills her own heartbeat.

    And with deadly accuracy, as if she was born to kill, she slings those two knives directly at Dowton's neck and chest! Will the Speedster or the Paper Master do anything to stop it?!

Clara Jennings has posed:
    "Amateur night?" Clara would be more offended, but being offended is so rarely part of her nature. She turns back to Irie, "Yeah, I actually prefer pizza. Tacos are so messy. And the spicy warning scared me off. Um. I am less intimidated by bullets than that kind of thing. What brings you here? Oh, and this is.."

    She turns to see Flatline just head off the roof. "So hasty." It is irksome. But honestly, knives move faster than her paper could. It's not like slashing the man with more projectiles would defend him!

    Instead, Clara leaps off to follow Flatline. Gravity is her mistress for now, but she's already gathering paper around her, ready to suddenly change the angle of her descent.

Irie West has posed:
    Of course the speedster will do something to stop it! Irie blinks at Flatline as she flips off the roof, "Hey! You could hurt--" She stops when she gets to the edge just in time to see the knives flying.

    Then she's in action. She speeds down the side of the building until she's right in front of the target, managing to just barely get there in time. She manages to yoink the knives out of the air before slowing down to normal speed.

    "--Somebody with these! Yeesh! That was close. If those had hit him then I'd have to fight you //for real// and I'm already past when I should be back since I've got class in the morning, and I know that I don't really sleep that much, but I //do// want to get some sleep in." She walks up to Flatline and holds out the throwing knives. "So here you can have these back, and I'll let you off with a stern warning this time."

Flatline has posed:
    Flatline leans into the fall and lands on her feet, bouncing a little before she rolls to rid herself of the excess energy just... to find... Irie in front of her. Holding her knives.

    She sets her black lips in a flat line, and slacks her shoulders.

    "Are... are you actually for real right now, Speederella?" she inquires, and takes her knives back.

    "Look. Isn't it past your bedtime? Isn't it past YOUR bedtime papergirl? Can't the both of you just buzz OFF?" she asks, flicking one of her knives over her hands as she regards the two.

    "Because I kinda have business with that guy. He kicks puppies."

Clara Jennings has posed:
    "He is also a blacklisted thief."

    Clara looks at Flatline, now curious. "So who put you up to dealing with him? Nevermind. You obviously cannot tell me that. I just need to know where he keeps his product."

    She looks from Flatline to Irie and back. It occurs to her that this so complicated now. "Err, but as a Titan, that is... I have to object to murder." It sounds so silly to use this kind of hero language. She just wants the guy's library and his stolen art. Honest!

Irie West has posed:
    Irie looks over her shoulder at 'that guy' and sucks on her teeth. "Yeeeeahno. I mean, don't get me wrong, the guy looks skeevy as heck, and is probably up to no good too, but skeeviness isn't a good reason to try to murder somebody, you know? So I'm gonna have to say 'no' to that."

    Clara's comment garners a narrowing of the eyes. "Keep his product so you can //turn it in?//" she asks pointedly. "You know. //To the police?//"

Flatline has posed:
    Flatline purses her lips, and she looks over her shoulder at Clara, then back to Irie, and then she jerks a thumb at the Speedster

    "IF you can take care of The Flash Kid, I can tell you everything about the guy." she explains.

    That Guy though? He recognizes that Irie has granted him a new lease on life, and decides to take off running down the street and away from the trio of young women!!

    Flatline hang her head back a moment, and gives a huff of breath.

    "You're only prolonging the inevitable, Downton Abbey!" she warns, and she goes to take off after the runner, leaving Clara to decide if she's going to take on Irie.

    Or if Irie is going to take Flatline On.

    Either way, Dowton will be gone -- in a day or twoooooooooo o/`

Clara Jennings has posed:
    Clara tilts her head at Irie. "The police do not know where to ship it, nor are they properly trained. I have a full inventory. Most of it was stolen from the Egyptian Museum in Cairo." She pats down her armor, as if this were the most sensible thing to do right now. "Oh yes, here." She draws from a hidden pocket a most official looking document, produced by the Conservatory. "I have the full list, and we believe that it has not been sold yet." A pause. "Wait.. you did not think that I was going to keep it, did you?"

    And then Flatline is off again, before Clara could even respond! "My goodness everyone is so hasty!" Can no one just stay still?! Flatline's words register than. "I... what? She is not a kid. She is.. sigh."

    She needs a moment to collect herself. She already knows that Irie is going to race after Flatline and it is all out of control, and she is never going to get to sleep! Clara reaches up to touch an earbud. "Sir, I am compromised. I will make a full report." A pause. "Yes sir. I understand. If I do not do something tonight... yes. Of course, sir. No rest until I have it all back." With a sigh she flings the earbud aside, where it is rather bashed to bits by her paper.

    The rest forms that hybrid wolf/warthog shape again. This time it is larger, almost rhino sized, and she leaps onto its back. "I just want to go home and read," she whines to the puppet. And then it charges forward.

Irie West has posed:
    Irie puts her hands on her hips and leans forward, squinting at Clara's official looking documents. "Alright. You make a good point," she concedes. When accused of accusing her of maybe keeping the artifacts, Irie shrugs sheepishly. "I mean... you //were// hanging out with an assassin, you know." She glances over her shoulder and holds up a finger. "Hold on."

    Once again in a blur of yellow and red and neat crackling lightning vfx, Irie puts herself in between 'that guy' and Flatline.

    "Okay, first of all it's Kid Flash, fastest girl alive. I mean it," she says, putting her hands on her hips. "I'm sooo fast. Like, it takes me thirty minutes to get from here to San Francisco. You're not gonna be able to murder this guy while I'm here."

    "Second of all...." here she hesitates. "Okay. There isn't a second of all. Just a first of all."

Flatline has posed:
    "You can't protect him forever." Flatline points out to Irie. "He has information I need. He's not going to give it over." she explains, crossing her arms, but she shrugs. "But I'm not gonna argue with you, Flash Kid, fastest girl, blah blah blah." Flatline shrugs, and then turns to Clara on the wolf-pig-paper-thing.

    "This is gonna be one of those nights." she states to Clara, and then turns her pinkish-purple gaze back to Irie, pulling her hood back a little bit so she can see the skull-like makeup she's wearing, and her pale, bone-white skin.

    "So, you're a Titan, huh?" she asks, looking up to her.

    Flatline is racking her brain trying to find information on how to fight speedsters, but mostly it's just Lord Death Man's dramatic 'DON'T!' coming to mind.

Clara Jennings has posed:
    Clara would totally point out that she like arrived a second or two before Irie did, but... she's gone again. Sigh.

    "I... I just.."

    Clara, paper master, professional lecturer, provisionary Titan, and obviously tired person... just sulks as she follows on the back of her puppet.

    "I am starting to think these people do not like us, Dickens." The puppet does not reply. "Yes, yes, I know, I have not made a great first impression. You do not need to lecture me."

    She is very lonely sometimes.

    Still, there is work to do. Not like she can possibly make Flatline tell her anything, and she sure is not interested in trying too tell Irie what to do, especially when murdergirl is so obviously up to no good. But the guy she wants to kill is also horrible and has blood on his hands, too.

    When Clara arrives she sighs, sliding off the creature again. "Thank goodness you stopped. Honestly! Oh. Me? I am kind of new, I do not think I count yet, exactly. They are very nice, though, you should consider it yourself. I mean, if the whole murdering people thing does not work out." She pauses, reaching up to scratch the back of her neck. "Umm, so now what do we do? I am not to come home without the stolen items, and while I am pretty sure it is in the harbor, well. Needle in a haystack. What information did you need from that guy, anyway? I fail to see how stabbing him is going to make him talk much. Perhaps there are other options. You know, meet in the middle?"

Irie West has posed:
    "Well, no," Irie concedes. "But I can bring him to justice, if he's as awful as you make him out to be. Take him to the police station, and then have him plea bargain to give you the information that you need." She gives Flatline a shrug like 'no sweat.' "See? Everybody wins! Nobody has to be murdered."

Flatline has posed:
    "My way is so much easier and faster." Flatline states flatly. And then she takes a deep breath, walking close to Clara, her arms coming up and behind her back, as if she's giving up, and she gives the paper-user a side-eye.

    "Sorry 'bout this." she mutters softly, and then she turns, slinging what looks like one of the Bats' smoke bombs at the bodega -- oh no! A smoke bomb! -- and then she uses her follow through and stabs at Clara's leg with EXPERT aim. Lame the girl and leave the knife in (a borrowed knife, not one of her own, this one has a much wider blade), and she points to Clara.

    "She'll need a hospital for that. Take it out, she bleeds out before even you can get her there." she states, her eyes narrowed as she turns and dashes down a different alleyway, leaving Paper and Speed to deal with the mess.

Clara Jennings has posed:
    Clara did not see that coming. She perhaps should have, really. So when the apology is offered, she starts to reply, "Sorry about wha-AHH!" She goes down very quickly with that blade in her. Also, Dickens falls apart, the papers blown away in the wind.

    By luck or destiny, that blade just went in where a bullet was only recently healed. The situation is terrifyingly familiar. Clara almost died from that wound. It essentially snaps something in the young woman's mind.

    She is left a trembling mess, silent, other than some very unheroic tears. Clara can vaguely hear what Flatline says, but not exactly. She is effectively taken out.

Irie West has posed:
    Well. This was unexpected. "Hey!" Irie shouts in protest at Flatline's retreating back. "That's... oh, nevermind." She looks down at Clara and winces. "It's gonna be okay. Let me call this in and then I'll run you to the hospital, alright?"

    She takes out her T-com and hits a speed dial to get to the police. "Hi, yeah. I've got an attempted murder in progress..." She then proceeds to give the location of where That Guy was headed towards, his description and Flatline's description as well, with a warning that she is 'very, very dangerous.'

    "Okay. Up we go!" she tells Clara as she picks her up in a princess carry. All it takes is a second for her to bring the papermancer to the nearest hospital. She'll stick with her for as long as she can, making sure she's alright and when it looks like there's nothing left to do, she gives Clara her number, you know, just in case.

Flatline has posed:
    Flatline won't get her quarry tonight, no.

    But she'll have another chance tomorrow. After all, few people cross Lord Death Man and survive.... for long... except Batman. Harley Quinn. Pretty much every powered good guy. It's a mess.