18080/Breaking Points

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Breaking Points
Date of Scene: 27 May 2024
Location: Gotham City Tower
Synopsis: Julia breaks an arm and meets Violet.
Cast of Characters: Julia Pennyworth, Violet Paige




Julia Pennyworth has posed:
The party is exclusive, the young and elite of Gotham City descending into debauchery with one another. Designer clothes, a high end DJ, drugs galore. The lighting had been specialized, between flickering likes and eerie violet - 'bisexual lighting' they call it, a term that can't help make Julia Pennyworth roll her eyes.

She isn't here for fun. One of the boys throwing the party, named Liam Hurt, has parents who see their son losing himself in this degeneracy. They don't have the guts to stop him or stand up to him, but they have hired Julia to keep an eye on him, keep him safe, drag him home if he goes too far. She detests it. She detests him, she detests his parents, but she's working on building her own security firm and she needs the reference. And the money. She won't take Bruce Wayne's money. He already owns her father. He won't own her.

She's wearing a leather jacket over a black pantsuit, tie pulled snug. Arms crossed over her chest as Liam is sprawled on a couch with a girl passed out on his arm, "Hey, British bitch, go get me another drink, huh. This chick is pinnin' my arm. Carry her back to one of the bedrooms after, I wanna get in that..."

Violet Paige has posed:
Ahh yes. Debauchery. Most people in Gotham think it's probably some kind of Bat Signal to one Miss Violet Paige. Heiress to a Publishing fortune after her Fathers tragic death in a hunting accident. Survivor of a boarding school fire. And when she's not wearing her infamous party girl hat she's something of a serial rehab attendee.

If you believe everything you read in the papers that is. And even when such things are true do they really tell the entire story?

Still she's here. Wearing a black dress that glitters with sequins but covers a remarkable amount of skin for someone with her reputation. Six foot without heels. The grace and poise of a society girl. The utter confidence/arrogance of youth. (Or maybe that's the drugs)

At first she only seems to pause to inhale deeply. Probably fresh from powdering her noise. It's only when Liam starts shouting orders that she seems to glance around. Glazed expression pulled back just long enough to sneer.

"How about /I/ get you a drink huh?" she says with saccharine sweetness. Glancing at Julia with a 'what the actual fuck' look. "And your friend can put the girl in a cab." A beats pause. "Unless you'd like the whole party to know you've got crabs."

Her lashes flutter.

Violet Paige has a reputation. The kind where she'd slash your tyres, ruin your reputation, probably sell the pictures to the media for good measure.

Probably Julia knows enough about her target demographic to be aware of this potential risk to her client. Even if he rather deserves everything he gets...

Julia Pennyworth has posed:
Julia Pennyworth flashes her dark eyes up to meet Violet's for a moment. "Yes. That's the best idea."

Julia helps the other party girl to her feet, the little blonde swaying a bit, a string of drool hanging from her lower lip, "Call meeeeeeeeeee," she whimpers at Liam as Julia drags her away by the arm, almost force marching her over to door and the elevator down below. She flicks out a cell phone, signaling for the doorman down below to get a cab ready for the incoming girl that she shoves into the elevator.

"Go home. If you come back to the party, I'll throw you down the stairs next time," she says. The girl's eyes go wide as the doors close. She won't be back.

Liam's been doing his best schmoozing at Violet, leaning up against the arm of the couch, his shirt unbuttoned to show his scrawny chest. He works out but not enough, his appetite for bad food and too much booze never giving him the energy or discipline to get up early and do his proper routine. He's lazy, spoiled, indolent, everything Julia despises. Her hatred for him is palpable, to those who know how to see, even if she keeps her stoic front up.

Violet Paige has posed:
Once the wasted girl is out of reach it's only fair for Violet to make good on her promise. She said she'd get him a drink right?

Her hand reaches out as a fellow party-goer heads past. Probably trying to find a friend, the bathroom, or even the DJ. Who they are or what they're doing don't really interest her though. Just the glass of red they're inattentively holding.

One fluid motion. Steal drink, adjust angle, and dunk over Liam's head. Had he been talking to her? Something about her expression suggests she hasn't heard a word of it. "There you go shit for brains. Now do be a darling and shut the fuck up. Or the next party you're seen at? It'll be your funeral."

The poor passer-by is too stunned to even protest at losing the wine. There's a few raised cellphones. Probably there'll be a clip of the incident over social media within ten minutes tops.

Julia Pennyworth has posed:
Liam sputters in impotent rage, the shock of the wine pouring over him waking him up a little. He's not sober, far from it, but he at least has a better sense of who he is. And he has a keen sense of humiliation, especially as laughter echoes around the room from a variety of his so-called friends.

"Fuck you, bitch," he snarls and he pulls back his hand, preparing to slap Violet across the face.

Then Julia catches his wrist and casually twists his arm, cinching into a hammerlock and straining the tendons in his wrist, grinding the bones together. Her chin rests on his shoulder as she leans into him from behind, her clipped British voice intense in his ear, although Violet can hear the strains.

"Your papa's money doesn't go that far. Go sleep it off or I break your arm. Your choice."

"Fuck you, you work for me!"

Julia meets Violet's eyes again, her own cold. "Last chance."

"Bitch, I--AAAAAAAAH!" he cries out as the audible crack of his forearm being snapped can be heard, leaving him to crumple on the ground at Julia and Violet's feet.

Violet Paige has posed:
"Oh please. You couldn't fuck me without a fluffer and a half dozen Viagra," Violet retorts. Smirking to the audience. Playing to the crowd. "No-one else needed a babysitter tonight."

It doesn't look like she's especially worried about getting slapped. If anything her stance suggests she was about to throw Liam across the room. Maybe that's why Julia stepped in! Or maybe she's spent the entire job wanting to break his arm and knew he'd give her an excuse. But when it happens? Well she does what anyone in her social position would do. Pulls out her cellphone, holds it up for a selfie, and takes a picture of herself doing a peace sign while Liam sprawls out on the floor. "Hashtag Dickless Moron."

She adds a few alternating stop signs and eggplants. Posted. People at the party are probably already checking it out. Maybe even assuming it was Violet's fault.

Finally she looks over at Julia and grins. "Whatever that cost you. Drop me a DM with your address and I'll.. fuck I don't know. Do I cut you a check?"

Julia Pennyworth has posed:
Julia Pennyworth grabs Liam by the scruff of his neck and drags him across the floor, even with a flutter of flashes and cellphones snapping away. She knows it's bad publicity but she doesn't care. In fact, the more humiliation, the better. That way, he won't bother trying to sue or make her pay. He'll just want to keep it quiet. His parents will probably pay to make sure it never comes out. Even Julia will probably get a payday out of it.

She tosses him onto the bed in an empty bedroom, "I'll get you a doctor," she says calmly.

She closes the door, locking it from outside with a skeleton key and turning back to face Violet. "No check needed," she says. "You know any other security jobs won't hold it against me, though, I'm listening."

Violet Paige has posed:
Violet seems to live by the rule 'there's no such thing as bad publicity' or at least that's the impression anyone following the media would say. Certainly she seems eager enough to pose for selfies and get herself in as many of those cellphone shots as possible. Hungry for publicity? Or trying to do Julia a favour by taking the hit herself. Who can say!

"Maybe a vet would be more appropriate," she calls into the bedroom from the party proper. "See if they'll have him spayed at the same time."

Her head tilts a little and she shrugs. "Didn't really need you getting involved there," she notes. "But I'd already written this party off as being a fucking waste of time and drugs. And that shit was hilarious. So. On behalf of party girls everywhere I thank you for the entertainment."

Another poor nobody loses their drink and this time she just slugs it back. "Security jobs hmm?" Her voice gets a little louder. Still playing to the crowd. Although now the show seems to be over people are already moving on. Attention spans so short it'll be history before most of them get home. "The only people I can think of who might be hiring are my ex's."

Julia Pennyworth has posed:
Julia Pennyworth looks plainly at Violet, "I did it because I wanted to do it. Not to save you," she says plainly.

"If you can handle yourself, good. Everyone should know how. Especially women. Not because we're weaker. But because shitheads like that think we are and they need to be taught those kinds of lessons," she says.

She goes and gets herself a drink, some of the other party goers giving her a wide berth. She doesn't mind their fear. Part of her even likes it. "Investigation, bodyguarding, off-the-books stuff. I don't kill people for money. I do break bones, as you can see," she says, businesslike. "No scumbags."

Violet Paige has posed:
"Shitheads like that aren't smart enough to learn," Violet points out. Cynical but probably true. "And if you just did it because you wanted to.. then bitch you stole my fun." She laughs and gestures with her glass, probably to show she's kidding around. She's not entire sure what the drink she's obtained is. The peril of borrowing drinks is people have shitty taste in just about every regard. Who knows if she's lucky it'll be some real absinth. Sadly this is Gotham and people are rarely lucky...

Still she takes another sip and pulls a face like she's having second and third thoughts.

"I suppose I might need an off the books investigation sometime," she muses. Not that she'd risk anyone else looking into the people who set up Gather House. But there's all sorts of other reasons an Heiress could use a sort of upmarket PI service. Hell it wouldn't hurt getting some dirt on her scumbag brother and his friends. "Shit do people really think I'm so bad I'd hire a hitman?" A beats pause. "Hitwoman? Anyway you got a card or a number?" She'd offer to tap her cellphone but do combat butlers even have phones?

Julia Pennyworth has posed:
Julia Pennyworth takes a sip of her drink. Whiskey, neat, she drains it with a tilt of her head, swallowing without effort.

"You'd be surprised how many people employ assassins. Especially in Gotham City. Make no mistake, death walks the streets here, whether its protector likes it or not," she says.

She reaches into her jacket pocket, drawing out a card simply with her name and a contact phone number (a burner, no less), "Here. If you think of an offer or a job. I won't guarantee I'll take it. But I'll listen," she says.

Violet Paige has posed:
Okay so some people do get lucky! Perhaps the lesson is make sure you're not grabbing the weird green drink.

"Protector," Violet scoffs. Downing the rest of her own drink in one. The sooner it's gone the sooner the aftertaste will go. "Spends a little too much time kicking sick people in the head if you ask me."

The card is accepted and promptly vanishes down her cleavage. It's not like her dress has pockets. And it'll be nice and safe there with her drugs and lighter. "In the unlikely event my body needs guarding. You'll be the first person I call." Not that she thinks Julia would take the job. There's no protecting people from themselves!

Julia Pennyworth has posed:
Julia Pennyworth snorts, "I'm not disagreeing," she says. Her feelings about Batman are beyond complicated, for reasons she won't be sharing.

Julia turns and heads out towards the elevator herself, "I'll keep my phone on," she says simply enough. She casually shoves a drunkard out of her way, letting him fall ass over teakettle across one of the love seats and then makes her way out the door. She's going to take a long ride on her motorcycle, clear her head. Maybe go visit the old man. Sometimes he drove her crazy, but he could make a hell of a cup of tea.