1798/Lions and Cheetahs and Dives! Oh My!
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| Lions and Cheetahs and Dives! Oh My! | |
|---|---|
| Date of Scene: | 22 May 2020 |
| Location: | A nondescript diner, much beloved of Gail Simone. |
| Synopsis: | Two supervillains walk into a bar and have a couple friendly drinks! |
| Cast of Characters: | Barbara-Ann Minerva, Thomas Blake
|
- Barbara-Ann Minerva has posed:
The Bad Penny is a little-known hole in the wall in the seedier party of New York City's waterfront. Few people are aware it exists and those who are try to steer clear of it. The interior of the place is one of perpetual gloom though it does boast a ratty pool table, cheap drinks in dirty glasses, and an old-school jukebox.
Tonight, the place is virtually empty. Two bald goons in leather jackets are playing pool while the barkeep stands behind the worn bar drying the interior of a glass with the dark cloth wrapped around his fist.
A woman leans on the jukebox with her back to the door -- never a good idea in a place like this one. Her lithe figure is limned in black silhouette by the kaleidoscopic glow of the neon tubes that wrap around the 'juke. Her face is not visible but her intention is pretty clear. She's trying to decide on a song.
As it turns out, she's also waiting for someone. And he better be on time.
- Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake is reasonably on time. Eying the woman's figure makes him a little late. He gets two Blue Moons at the bar and brings them over to the woman. "Play Norma Tanega: You're Dead. Trust me." He holds one of the bottles out to her. He also eyes the two chrome domes. matching haircuts. A gang affectation? Corporate security. They suck at pool. They got mixed drinks. A mixed drink here is any three liquors the barkeep has to spare served in a dark glass. (link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ImAlx0amAIc)
- Barbara-Ann Minerva has posed:
The distinct sound of a quarter making its perilous journey down a metal shoot and into the bowels of a jukebox -- recognizable to anyone over the age of 30 -- echoes in the silence. The lady methodically makes her selection using the raised keys: G14. There is a brief pause before the machine whirs to life and the opening strains of "Beast of Burden" by the Rolling Stones start to play. No woman of English extraction can resist Mick Jagger. It's just science.
Now in close proximity, Thomas can better see the woman's face. Perhaps it's just a trick of the calico lighting, but it appears she isn't entirely human. Perhaps "Cheetah" isn't just a nom de guerre.
"This seems more appropriate, don't you think?" Cheetah smiles in reference to the song. She lets Thomas stand there offering the bottle but makes no effort to receive it. The goons across the way make no effort to hide the fact they're watching Thomas closely. Their 'game' suffers accordingly. The barkeep, meanwhile, has been polishing that perfectly clean glass for quite a while. He's staring at Thomas, too. This is a private party, clearly.
"You're a little late, I think." Cheetah speaks with a refined, if somewhat world-weary English accent. She taps the glass dome of the jukebox with a clawed finger and watches the record within spin tirelessly. "But you come bearing gifts, so I suppose all is forgiven." Again, she makes no effort to accept the bottle of Blue Moon. "You know why you're here, of course..."
- Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake goes over to a booth, considers, then chooses a table. he sits and places one bottle opposite him, drinks from the other and says, "Not really. The email was too long and I couldn't find my decoder ring and I had a roast in the oven..." he gestures vaguely with his bottle. He's keeping a very covert eye on Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee. Actually they might be the Tweeds. Where are they these days? Never mind. "You going to have a seat or stand there and keep trying to cloud my mind?" he finally asks.
- Barbara-Ann Minerva has posed:
Cheetah gently pushes herself away from the jukebox and spins gracefully on her heel (her feet are bare -- again, not a great idea in a dive like this) to face Thomas properly. She's wearing a dark, form fitting 'cat suit.' Her bare arms, décolletage, and face are covered in short, thick, orange fur. Her face has a pronounced feline caste. Yep, 'Cheetah' is most certainly not merely a nickname.
She pads toward the table Thomas has chosen and takes the drink he has left on the table for her in hand. She doesn't sit. Looking down at people, literally or otherwise, appears to be a favorite pastime.
"Your services have come highly recommended by a mutual acquaintance." Villains only have 'acquaintances' and never 'friends': FACT. "I wanted to put a face to a name." Cheetah smiles but not with any particular warmth and takes a long swig from the bottle.
- Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake moves his bottle around to frame his face. "Well here it is. Obviously I've heard of you so I'm here. Call it curiosity. Other than headshots, what's on your mind? I have an issue I'm trying to resolve, or did you hear of the price I have on my hide?" He looks over at the two pool players, this time very overtly and smiles a smile the Cheetah would instantly recognize as baring of teeth.
- Barbara-Ann Minerva has posed:
The pool playing goons -- let's call them Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum -- don't appear terribly put out by Thomas' display. They work for a crazy, cat-lady. Literally. This sort of thing just comes with the territory. Dee stands with his arms folded and stares dispassionately while Dum, who hasn't quite given up the pretense, chalks his cue incessantly. Do these guys even know how to play pool?!?
"I may have heard something about that, yes." Cheetah's green eyes turn skyward as though trying to recall the details, "I've come to the determination you're worth more to me alive than in any other state." She takes another drink. "It's quite simple, really. You help me," she places an open palm on her chest, "and, perhaps, I can help you with your...whatever." Cheetah makes a dismissive motion with her free hand to punctuate this last bit. Matters of Thomas' life or death are of only passing concern, naturally.
"Interested?" She watches his reaction carefully.
- Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake sits back and pushes out the chair opposite him and nods towards it. "Full disclosure... I did work for Alchemax. They were satisfied but then their competitor hired me for a reprisal. The competitor was smarter than Alchemax. They paid extra for a non-competition clause. Alchemax did not and rather than just work things out they want me dead. So I'm going to attack them and destroy that division to teach them the error of their way. That is my plan. I have no doubt you could aid me in this. What would you like in return? I'm very good at giving big cats relaxing massages by the way." He drains his drink and puts the bottle down. Signals for another.
- Barbara-Ann Minerva has posed:
If the bartender sees Thomas' signal, he doesn't acknowledge it. He just keeps polishing that already pristine glass with a dark rag. Cheetah's almond-shaped eyes narrow, "I'll bear that in mind." It's likely very few who have attempted to 'massage' her have survived to tell the tale. She makes the slightest of gestures with a finger and the barkeep finally moves to get Thomas a fresh drink.
Cheetah leans over the chair Thomas has pushed out for her. The visual effect is likely not displeasing. "Alchemax has earned what's coming to them." The bartender approaches and leaves Thomas' drink on the table before returning to the bar. "There will, of course, be a certain degree of fidelity in our relationship." She finishes her drink and lets the 'or else' go unspoken. "I will forward the details of my proposal to you in due course." You never know who might be listening, after all.
- Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake gets up to leave with a nod of understanding. He does snag the other beer. "Right. Flexibility is good. I welcome the help. This sort of thing can take ages and I want to end it fast. It cuts into my earning. May I?" He extends a hand to her palm up.
- Barbara-Ann Minerva has posed:
Cheetah arches a brow but is eventually won over. She daintily slides her (nightmarishly taloned) hand into Thomas' waiting paw. Women of English extraction cannot resist overt acts of chivalry: FACT. "I'm sure this is the beginning of a long and reliable relationship," she purrs placing an emphasis on the word 'reliable.'
By now, 'Beast of Burden' has long finished and the jukebox sits idle. Tweedle Dee has made his way over to it and made a selection of his own: 'You're Dead' by Norma Tanega. Soon, Norma's lyrics fill the silent bar: 'You'll never get a second chance; You're down and outta this world.'
Cheetah smiles like the apex predator she is. "We understand each other, I think." She wiggles her fingers impatiently where they sit in Thomas' hand.
- Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake lets her fingers wiggle impatiently for a bit then smiles and plants a light kiss on the back of her hand, enjoying the familiar feel of claw. He smiles at the apex predator like he gives zero f--ks what she is. He watches her eyes for dilation. Old trick. Kiss the hand or squeeze it to surprise the person momentarily and see how far their pupils dilate, judge how interested they are in you. "A pleasure Cheetah. Play it straight with me and you will find I'm all business on a job. If I have any problems I will let you know up front."
- Barbara-Ann Minerva has posed:
"Splendid." Cheetah's pupils do, in fact, dilate briefly and she withdraws her hand. "Splendid." Business having concluded, she spins and returns to her beloved jukebox. A little 'Eye of the Tiger' next?
Tweedle Dum has made his way unobtrusively to the exit and has pushed the door open so Thomas' can leave. It's an unsubtle signal: beat it. We'll be in touch.
