4437/This Can('t) Go Well

This Can('t) Go Well
Date of Scene:	19 December 2020
Location:	Josie's Bar
Synopsis:	Two legendary drinkers (alcoholics) finally cross paths and bond over their life long commitment to drinking. Power Girl goes off her beaten path a little to destress and finds jerks at every corner. Constantine hits on everyone and gets nowhere...save for not paying for any drinks.
Cast of Characters:	Brunnhilde, Jessica Jones, John Constantine, Karen Starr

---

Brunnhilde has posed:
There is no balm for the cold like a thimble, shot, glass, bottle of liquor.  Right, bottle of liquor...or 5.  Whose counting?  Certainly not Brunnhilde.  That would require effort.  She measures her drinking by whether she still has cash for just one more drink.

Brunnhilde has been hanging around Hell's Kitchen for quite a few, okay, many years.  When she gets to the bar, she starts resting her hand on each stool, testing their sturdiness.

Jessica Jones has posed:
Jessica is one of the constant regulars at bars across New York City, one could wage the area her current case is based on according to which bar she frequents on a given week. On occasions, she's heard tales of someone who may very well match her drinking prowess. She always discounted it as people talk, because they want to downplay the one thing she can do very well.

Turns out today she's working from Hell's Kitchen, or is at her office sans case, because it's earlier than usual for her to be stepping into Josie's. Not having seen Brunnhilde before, Jessica casts a cursory glance her way, studying the woman for a moment, before quipping, "you don't need to check, Josie keeps the stools in good shape, you won't break it," and then she proceeds to sit in the stool next to Brunnhilde, "Josie, I'll have a Knob Creek, don't bother with a glass, just give me the bottle."

John Constantine has posed:
Josie's Bar is the sort of dive bar that give dive bars something to strive towards. It's dirty but not gross; the drinks are strong and cheap, but not watered down. And you're not likely to get stabbed over a game of pool gone bad.

Which isn't to say that there isn't the occassional chisler or hustler who pushes their luck at the table.

Constantine's one such individual. Shirtsleeves, black tie, slacks; were it not for the tattoos on his forearms or the scars on his knuckles, the lanky blonde fellow would look like an office worker at a first glance.

John's playing a decent game but he's falling behind the other player, a coarse looking fellow with a dark goatee and a black leather vest. Not a biker gang member, but something close to it. John's gaze flickers to Brunn when the athletic brunette approaches the bar. Her examination of the chairs earns a curious examination. Ice rattles in his bourbon when John retrives it from the narrow table to take a sip.

Karen Starr has posed:
    Bars aren't the usual haunt for Power Girl. Frankly, she usually avoids them- But, as are some days more than others, the day's been rough, and Hell's Kitchen is just close enough to the Hudson that it's where she's looking for a place to relax after assisting a passenger plane in setting itself down safely on the Hudson.

    The story's even temporarily on the news when the others enter- something about a jet engine swallowing a flock of geese on its landing approach.

    She didn't care to stop at the waterfront- instead skipping it over for something deeper into the city. Pushing her way through the doors of Josie's, Power Girl strides confidently, simultaneously looking as if she doesn't belong anywhere, and acting as if she belongs wherever she pleases.

    In silence, she takes a nearby spot at the bar, pointing at a bottle of top-shelf whiskey.

Brunnhilde has posed:
The fact that Jessica and Brunnhilde /haven't/ run into each other is a bit of a cosmic joke.  In fact, they circle the same haunts, and it's not like Brunnhilde doesn't still have a taste for some kind of adventure...even if most of it has stopped at the quest to find out if Earth even /has/ good alcohol.  The only substitute for such things is volume.  Coincidentally, tonight's mission.

Brunnhilde gives Jessica a skeptical side eye, then shifts the scrutiny to the stool and just gives it a go.  CREEEEEEAK.  The stool protests loudly under her weight.  She doesn't have to order.  Two bottles of Knob Creek are brought out.  Brunnhilde never even ordered.  And apparently a tab is opened, since she doesn't shove any cash across the bar.

Brunnhilde glances back briefly over at Karen when she enters the bar.  She reaches for what she presumes is her bottle without looking much, and it is, single barrel.  She cracks it open and takes a few gulps, which might as well be a sommelier swishing wine in their mouths...but her taste tester is her belly.

Jessica Jones has posed:
A professional P.I. by trade, nothing eludes Jessica Jones, so she takes note of the way John is eyeing Brunnhilde. Albeit she's a bit off about the reason, as she quips, "if you're looking for a one night stand, I'm pretty sure well dressed tattoos over there is checking you out. Just a friendly tip."

Was it spoken loud enough for John to hear? Maybe. Jess was never known for her tact. A fact made more apparent, when upon Power Girl's entrance to the bar, Jess adds another quip at Brunnhilde, "scratch that, pretty sure Super T&A is going to take all attention from you now."

But just about then Brunnhilde is given the order she hasn't made. Josie always gave Jess a hard time before relenting and just serving full bottles. That was a bit hurtful to witness, that someone else can get a full bottle without even ordering "...I take it you must be that gal that can hold her liquor I hear so much about, huh?"

She then nudges Brunnhilde with her elbow when she reaches for her bottle, "hey, you got your own, no need to reach for mine!"

John Constantine has posed:
John catches the suggestion Jessica offers Brunn. Most would look a little guilty for being caught with an open how-you-doin' look. Instead he cracks a slightly lopsided grin at the two women, unrepentant. Jessica gets a similar up-and-down and when she looks his way again, a flickering wink for the dark-haired detective.

When Power Girl saunters in, John's brows lift. Not in surprise-- in recognition. The Justice League aren't exactly teetotalers, but it's not like they often send representatives into Hell's Kitchen for cheap bourbon.

"Oye, I hope you're not here looking for -me-," John whispers at Karen from across the noisy bar. "If there's an emergency, it'll need to wait until I'm not down five hundred quid."

Karen Starr has posed:
    Karen heard J-J. However, instead of commenting on it- at least for now- she instead takes her glass of whiskey up into her gloved hand, and drops it in one smooth gulp. It doesn't seem to cause her any issues. There is, though, a mild sigh- and a flat expression that crosses her features, to expose the 'secret' of her overhearing the comment.

    Her attention focuses on John just as the tender delivers her second order: A massive tankard of beer, with one shot of whiskey balanced precariously on the rim.

    With one finger, she tips the dollar spirit into the dollar-fifty booze, seemingly having little problem enjoying gratuitous amounts of cheap dalliances. The lack of watering is probably a big deal, there- but Kryptonians can also taste so much more in the drinks they pull in than the average person. Even the cheapest food and drink is a delicacy for them.

    It does, however, mean they eat and drink like garbage trawlers.

    She can't respond verbally to the street-wizard, on account of all the noise in the bar, so she instead gives him an acknowledging shake of her head and a thumbs up to signal that he's good to continue losing money. Then, she starts chugging the beer.

Brunnhilde has posed:
"Not my type.  Now you.  You're my type."  But Brunnhilde isn't talking to Jessica.  She's talking to her bottle.  At least the latter part anyways.  She lifts the bottle the second time and it's gone in a single gulp, tiny thing that it is.  As 'decent' as it is (Asgard spoiled her), drinking a Knob Creek bottle is like raiding a hotel mini-bar and only making it out with one mini-bottle.

"Thanks," for the tip that is, but Brunnhilde doesn't clarify.  At the comment about the blonde, Brunnhilde leans to take another look around Jessica.  "Not complaining, but I don't come to these places to pick people up."  Not that she doesn't get to take advantage of others going to bars to pick people up.  Her eyebrows arch though when Jessica mentions the rumors.  "Are you the one I keep hearing about?  People won't shut up about it.  It's annoying," she says with a smirk as she mistakenly reaches for the wrong bottle.

"Oh...sorry," Brunnhilde says with an unapologetic smirk like someone who just ate the last pint of ice cream.  Luckily she didn't decimate it yet and just sliiiides it over to Jessica.  "Is he still looking?" not giving a shit if he can hear her, but not raising her voice either.  Generally it doesn't even sound like she cares if he's looking at all.  More like, keeping tabs on it.

"Seems like everyone's warming up," she comments mildly and flags down Josie.  "Another please?"  She is forced to pay up for the last one, a tried and true signal of a /tolerated/ regular.  She shifts to dig out some cash, making her stool protest even more.

Jessica Jones has posed:
When Jessica gets a similar look from John, she genuinely seems surprised, quipping at Brunnhilde, "...you know what? I think he just might be drunk out of his mind." And like clockwork, John calls out to Power Girl, and Jess turns to Brunnhilde with a grin, "called it, Super T&A will always draw all the attention, no chance for the regular people, huh?" Not that anyone in this company is regular, aside from some fokls by the pool table, and a few other early birds about. Certainly not as many regular people as on any other given week.

Jessica doesn't seem to pick on the 'tell' that Power Girl overheard her. Could be she's just oblivious, but she does note how pro-like Power Girl downs that beer, and for that she raises her own bottle of Knob Creek towards Power Girl, "now that was impressive, Wonder Woman," yeah, she's not the best with most superhero codenames.

When Brunnhilde drops the unexpected 'you are my type', Jess is almost at a loss for words, a position she's rarely ever put in, but before she can even start to feel embarrassed, she realizes just who Brunnhilde was talking to and bursts in laughter, "hey, we have similar tastes, that's my type too!"

When Brunnhilde admits to not coming to these places for pickups, Jess nods, "I get that, I'm kinda the same, buy you know, sometimes...every now and then, you'd like to...well...forget I said anything," and up goes the bottle as Jess swallows her lapse in alcohol. What was she thinking, Brunnhilde probably can get whatever guy she fancies, stupid remark. But then Brunnhilde saves it by showing she has heard similar rumours, clearly the two move in similar circles, just out of synch. "I agree! One day I had six glasses and two bottles before me, and this guy said he'd be impressed if he didn't see that other chick drink even more. Pissed me off to be honest. So...what's your name, mystery hard drinking lady?"

Asked if John's still looking, Jess turns to look between John and Power Girl, and shrugs, "I think blondie has him for good."

John Constantine has posed:
Things at the bar are rapidly becoming more interesting than the hustling John's doing. He looks at his opponent speculatively. "Y'know mate, I think I'm ready to be done for the night. Go big or go home, eh?" he says with a drunken wobble. A wallet emerges from John's back pocket and he lays three hundred dollar bills down. "Three hunnered quid-- uh, dollars-- that I can clear the table in one go," he offers. "Gonna go over to th' bar and make some friends with the blonde over there." A thumb wiggles behind him, in Power Girl's direction.

The men at the pool table burst out laughing and encourage John's opponent to take the wager. The rough-looking biker scowls suspiciously but gives in to the crowd's peer pressure. More money's piled poolside and he uplifts his chin at John. "Okay man, let's see you do it. You drunk enough to go over and mack on the cape, I'll even throw in your next round."

"Deal," John says, immediately. He picks up his whisky, drowns it, and sets the pool cue on his fingertips.

Seven solid strikes later, the eight ball lazes towards the corner pocket, loiters there a moment, and drops in with a rather final-sounding *plonk*.

"Nice game gents, look me up sometime," John suggests to the bikers. He collects his money and his overcoat and a refill from the waitress. "Cheers," he toasts, and walks towards the bar. His coat's hung from a hook nearby and John settles onto a stool next to Karen.

"If you're not here to fetch me, why are you here?" John inquires. A pack of cigarettes is dug out of a pants pocket. It's slapped a few times to jar one loose so he can pluck it between his lips. The packet disappears and a lighter appears in his hands with a little sleight-of-hand.

How he did that with his sleeves rolled up makes it perhaps a little more impressive than it might have been otherwise.

Karen Starr has posed:
    All Power Girl has for Jessica is a raise of her empty beer glass. "Not Wonder Woman." she states, with this bothered tone to her voice. When free, the Tender drops over to Karen, and as she isn't a regular, she has to pull open a section of her gauntlet, slipping cash out of it and setting it down- the denomination isn't small.

    Before long, the first of what's likely to be many drinks is set down in front of her- a depressingly warm Jack and Coke. Plucking it up, she's staring at it for a few moments as Constantine settles himself down. She takes in a slight breath, and then exhales, forcing out a blast of unbelievably cold air around the glass, which takes on a frosty hue, water in the air condensing and then freezing on its surface. Having cooled down the drink, she starts to give it the same treatment as the beer.

    One finger gets held up to Constantine as he speaks, and she drops a cool glass of tennessee and cola. Setting it back down with a thud, she turns in her chair, clearly none the worse for the wear. "Wanted a beer." she states, offering a shrug. "And I hadn't been called 'Super TnA' in a while, so I felt it was time."

Brunnhilde has posed:
"This?  This is just entertainment," Brunnhilde remarks on the assumed hunting expedition John must be on...must, right?  It's a bar.  He's a guy.  Whatever.  He's not liquor.  "The T&A are Super," she says with a little chuckle.  "Not sure there's a sane reason to expect anything different.  And yeah...he might be," even though she didn't catch the wink to Jessica.

"Then I'm in good company," if whiskey is Jess' type that is.  "You clearly have good taste.  She's always available, doesn't bitch about the rent," she says with an easy chuckle about the booze, though there are years and years, /centuries/ behind those eyes.

"You just want to get out a little steam?  Yeah.  One thing this little mistress can't do anything about," Brunnhilde says with a little waggle of her bottle.  "Of course he did."  Brunnhilde's been living among these humans since the 1980s.  She's learned things...and how some things just don't seem to change no matter what the species.

"Brunnhilde.  Yours?"  Another check on the other two and Brunnhilde smiles.  She misses the whole sleight-of-hand thing because, well, her attention is kind of swallowed up whole by Jessica at the moment save for the passing amusement.  She tips her bottle toward the other two, "Here he goes.  What do you wager? Strikes out or scores?"  Brunnhilde leans to watch the interaction between John and Power Girl as she takes a gulp or two for appearances sake, even if she just wants to funnel it straight into her bloodstream.

"Swing and a miss," Brunnhilde says softer as she nudges Jessica with her elbow when Power Girl informs the P.I. of the mistaken identity.  "I think she's on to you," deducing full well by now that Power Girl must have super hearing.  She lets out a laugh and forgets herself, chugging down the rest of this bottle in two gulps.  And yet she's acting like she just chugged a Nalgene bottle (of water of course).  This might have something to do with why rent is so hard to make.

Jessica Jones has posed:
Casting a casual glance at John and his game, okay, repeated glances, Jess does take some interest at the unusual bold wager John strikes, and actually succeeds in. That wasn't an everyday schmoe playing a game of pool, then again, he did dress pretty spectacular for Josie's, so that was another tell about his unusual manner. At least she called it on his interest being solely focused on Power Girl once she stepped in.

She looks another moment or two to make sure a brawl wouldn't start over that major loss, but when things settle down, she turns back to empty her bottle. Turns out Brunnhilde had more than a little head start and she groans, "you had like half of it...mind covering me another one?" Jess asks Brunnhilde, thorough disappointment in her tone at having had only half the bottle.

Jessica does catch sight of John's flexing his magic ability and rolls her eyes, "fuck me sideways, the guy is a magician...ugh...must be off off broadway, with all of these tattoos." She turns to look at Brunnhilde, was the woman even still listening to her? She thought she'd have a drinking partner for once, but who knows, maybe she really only cares about paying attention to her bottle and nothing else.

"Oh...?" Jessica actually seems surprised when Power Girl tells her she's not Woner Woman, but as she spots the cold breath trick, Jessica tries again, "Supergirl then?" Apparently really fumbling on placing a face to a codename. But then Power Girl reveals beyond doubt she overheard that 'Super T&A' quip, and Jess is certain, "oh, snap, my bad Supergirl, I forgot about that superhearing, look no hard feeling, you're just a goddamn looker, and none of us mortal women can compete...so it was sorta-kinda a compliment, actually." There you go, the ol' Jess silvertongue work to get out of a bad situation. What...that didn't work? Oh yeah, silver tongue definitely wasn't Jess' trait, that was the aforementioned lack of tact. Seems that still holds.

"Now there's an interesting topic," Jess wisely elects to focus her attention on Brunnhilde and pretend the exchange with Power Girl was over, before she gets tossed into the Hudson. "I always thought of whiskey as a guy, what's your take on whiskey being a girl?" Jess asks, before signaling Josie to get her another bottle. When handed a glass instead, Jess groans, "real clever Josie, now either get me a bottle or seven more of these," she grumbles while downing her glass.

"I think he's enough charm to actually...oooh," Jess winces, "I guess you're right there, Brunnhilde." She then finishes her own introduction, "Jessica Jones."

John Constantine has posed:
John lifts a brow at Karen. Shoulders rise while his lungs inhale with smoke and he exhales it up and away from the bar. There's no smoking in bars in New York. For some reason, no one working at the bar seems to notice John smoking.

"Cor love, I'd prefer to hear you -were- here looking for me. You must be feeling low if you're coming to a dank little bar like this looking for compliments from strangers."

John's tone is brazen enough and his posture casually open towards Karen. But there's a familiarity there rather than a blundering prurient interest. Someone with a keen eye for the human condition might even pick up on a little respect, both wary and well-informed.

The quiet commentary and snickering from behind him catches his ear; John turns his neck minutely, then grins at the discussion between Jess and Brunnhilde. "You hearing this? Of course you're hearing this," he says, answering his own question. "My sterling reputation for charisma is suffering quite a hit talking to you. I hope you appreciate that sacrifice, luv." John's stool pivots to face the bar and he holds up two fingers at the bartender. "Johnny Walker, blue, two of 'em." Karen's included in the gesture. "The bloke in the vest said it's on his tab," he requests. John turns to look at the guy and exchanges a little bar-style sign language. The biker scowls, but relents with a short and blunt nod of his chin for the bartender.

Karen Starr has posed:
    "Wrong again." she states, regarding Jessica's comment. Her expression is, as ever, slowly growing more and more irate as the people around her choose various incorrect dialog options, and she orders her fourth drink- a Dark and Stormy made with cheaper rum and ginger beer- which, theoretically, ought to disqualify it from being a Dark and Stormy, but that's what she orders,and the best approximation of that is what she gets.

    This she doesn't just drop in one fell swoop, instead taking a moment to appreciate the ginger and mull over her life choices that have led to this bar, at this time, with these patrons. Setting the drink down, she can't help but sound mildly irate in response to Jess.

    "Any more backhanded with that compliment and you'll break your wrist." Then, solid gulp on the drink. A full turn to John, then, and she raises a brow. "Looking for compliments? Not exactly. Not really looking for the -exact-opposite-? Probably too much to ask, but we're all allowed to dream, right?" letting out a sigh, she faces away from the bar, and leans herself against it, bare arms taking up real estate that's not hers to take, but it's unlikely anyone'll complain. "I'm hearing -all- of this, yes. Why can't I ever go to a bar and -Zatanna's- there hustling pool with an enchanted cue." It's, frankly, just a guess- Constantine had never muttered any incantations. Might also be a wound to his pride, considering she's just assuming it was magic that he manhandled those guys so effortlessly at the end.

    "This bar has scotch -that- expensive?" she remarks, as the new drink slides in along the cocktail she hadn't finished until Constantine ordered, which simply moved up its execution.

    "I'm sure your reputation will recover from talking to Power Girl in a bar."

Brunnhilde has posed:
"I'll buy you two if you can handle it," Brunnhilde says with a small dip of her head.  Clearly, Brunnhilde lives by a code.  She almost spits out the tail end of her last gulp when Jessica reveals the guy is a magician.  "No wonder he's dressed like that.  He's probably a street magician."  Apparently there's a caste system, but where street magicians are in this scheme is not revealed, perhaps left implied for darker senses of humor.

"So what do you do?"  the woman finally seems to start opening up to more human like conversation after having gotten two bottles under her belt, shifting a little to casually prop herself up with her forearm against the bar.

Brunnhilde smiles to herself as Jessica tries to backpedal into either some true perspective or a mere genuine act of trying to save face as if she can just feel the impending train wreck.  When you've seen it as many times and in as many variations as Brunnhilde, well one doesn't even cringe or wince anymore.  She spares Jessica a comment on her smoothness.

"I like the idea of a girl putting me to sleep," Brunnhilde answers simply.  There might be more to it, but the woman seems to be full of small answers that allow her to drink between them.  "Why a guy?"

When the glass is delivered to Jess, "Is this the intervention?"  Brunnhilde chuckles and orders a bottle for Jessica.  Her bills are small and it's clear when she pulls them out that she's not anal about making them stack together just so.  She makes sure to pad the tip.  "Just in case," as if they might get glasses back anyways.  It seems to be a luck of the draw more than a guarantee.

"Good to meet you." Brunnhilde tips her empty bottle to Jessica and sets it down.  "Don't worry.  We'll probably never see you again," Brunnhilde offers loudly enough for John without a care in her tone.  Perhaps she'd have something more clever to say if she was actually paying attention to their conversation.  She does offer Power Girl a flash of a sympathetic look though.

Jessica Jones has posed:
"Guy is relentless, isn't he?" Jess notes to Brunnhilde, grinning as if to note the friendly wager isn't done yet.

But foiled again on the matter of Power Girl's actual codename, Jessica looks surprised, "not Wonder Woman, not Supergirl...mmm...pretty sure Captain Marvel doesn't wear a cape, definitely not Superman..." Jess continues to annoyingly muse to the point she might be looking to get punched in the face, before eventually outright asking Power Girl, "so which one is you? I mean, you're fucking impressive, I'm not trying to offend you."

When Peej calls Jess out on the nature of her 'compliment', Jessica laughs, "hey, now you're playing the game! That was a good one." She celebrates with a drink, before noting to Brunnhilde, "she's not as innocent as she looks, huh?"

When Power Girl casts doubt at the availability of top shelf options at this bar, Jess raises her hands, "that would be my fault...since I've became a regular, Josie really upgraded. I keep her in business singlehandedly..." she winks at Josie and drinks some more, directly from the bottle, because Josie finally relented and gave her a bottle after Brunnhilde ordered it.

"You're on!" Jessica is more than happy to take two bottles on Brunnhilde's tab. There's the pleasant surprise of the day!

"Me? I'm a Private Investigator, not sure you've heard of Alias Investigations, but that's my firm."

"Fair enough," Jessica notes to Brunnhilde, before shrugging and offering a bleak sounding, "I guess men just had an effect on my life...it only seems natural." She then turns to fully face Brunnhilde, before asking in about as least politically correct manner as possible, "so...you're a lesbian, huh?"

On the matter of intervention, Jessica scoffs, "Josie been trying to get me to slow down, a few other people too, they just don't understand the nature of a committed relationship." Turns out Jessica is going to borrow Brunnhilde's allegory from now on. Catching the look Brunnhilde gives Power Girl, Jess asks her quietly, even though it's pointless, "you think I was too harsh with her? Should I apologize?"

John Constantine has posed:
John puts a hand over his heart at Karen's commentary. "Now you're just trying to hurt me," he accuses the blonde. "Zee wouldn't be caught dead slumming it in a bar like this. Woman's had champagne tastes as long as I've known her," he scoffs. "You could try her at Madison Square Garden next time she has a show in the city."

Karen's mild dig does seem to have wounded John's pride, if just a little. He sips his whisky when it arrives, savouring it, and nods thanks at the bartender. Soon as she's gone, the cigarette reappears in Johns' hand again and he takes a drag.

"Ladies, you're talking to the one-and-only Power Girl," he explains to the two women. "I think she's the Queen of Krypton or something. Carries on like it." He shoots a mischevious, sidelong grin at Karen, then leans around Brunn to get Jessica's attention.

"Oye, did you say you own Alias? You're the ones who broke open the investiation into Roxxon," he informs her. "Nice bit of work, that," he congratulates her. There seems to be a note of professional respect in his voice. "Heard the rumors about how it went down. Bit messy, but well done in the end, eh?"

Karen Starr has posed:
    Karen runs at a dull simmer most of the time. Today's been a bit of a dumpster fire, and Jessica doesn't seem to be making it any better. Thankfully, Constantine's here- a sentiment that, despite being deserved more often than anyone will admit- Karen doesn't vocalize.

    "Might do that." she states, plucking up the glass of Walker and taking a hearty gulp of it that, though denting it heavily, doesn't polish off the whiskey in a single swallow. Clearly, she's savoring this one, even though to her, the second or two it remains in her mouth is like hours or minutes tasting it alone for anyone else.

    She gestures with an arm a bit towards the two, whom she's no longer properly facing. "Hear this? I was on the news, /today/, and I'm getting a 'which one is you' twenty questions game, but she's not -trying- to offend." There's a deep sigh, at that. "I swear." Turning back around, Power Girl places her hands on the bar, calming herself down. She doesn't get to use alcohol as an excuse, so she is going to exercise her patience. "She must be really, really good at it, then." Her head turns, and she looks somewhat plaintively at John.

    "Constantine, I'm getting 'with all due respected' here. I will -pay- you to make this stop." And she is serious. John, for his part, takes off into the statement, whether he's spurred on by the thought of monetary reward or not, is up to him. "More talking -at-, but." she notes, taking down the other half of her expensive whiskey. "Yeah. We're going to have the rest of the bottle, thanks." she notes, to the bartender, who has to be incentivized with more money from the pocket in Power Girl's gauntlet.

    "We didn't have a monarchy, there was this council, which was kind of a council of councils, it's not-" she sighs, again. John and the others probably don't want to hear about it, and frankly, -her- Krypton is not -this- Krypton. What she's saying may not have even been true here. She'll have to ask Clark and Kara if they recall Kryptonian monarchy.

Brunnhilde has posed:
"I'm pretty sure he's just digging deeper," Brunnhilde posits as if John was digging a grave.  As Jessica starts the process of elimination, Brunnhilde starts casually raising each finger as if lazily keeping tabs on how many strikes Jess is getting, even if they aren't real guesses.  Oh look she has an open hand to take the newly delivered bottle!  How convenient.  Well she's missing a pinky but to Hel with it.  Jessica gets another 'strike', point, whatever, for free.

"More than the sum of her parts," Brunnhilde notes back with a raised eyebrow, amused, and not making an attempt to play peacemaker between the two.

Brunnhilde leans with perfect timing and shoots Power Girl a wink.  "Totally all her fault...so you're the reason it's all gone?" she says the latter with a goodnatured tone.  "Yeah," she's heard of Alias Investigations, so much so has she seen wandering people out of place, those that can afford private investigators wandering lost in the streets of Hell's Kitchen stick out like sore thumbs.  "You should be paying me for how many people I've told where it actually is.  Well, the building."  At some point it became worth it to find out, because Brunnhilde couldn't seem to /not/ help, or maybe it was so annoying she gave in.

"Men have had an effect on my life too," Brunnhilde shares and shrugs.  "I've dabbled on both sides."  If throwing yourself in a funeral pyre for a man is dabbling.  Well clearly it isn't.  She doesn't seem thrown by the abrupt question at all, effortlessly taking it in stride.  "But yeah.  I think I'm done with that," men, presumably.

The committed relationship remark garners a little twist of Brunnhilde's lips.  "Here's to till death do us part?" she toasts, lifting her glass for the gag before trying to sip like a human nursing their drink.

"What?  No," Brunnhilde says of being to hard on Power Girl.  "She's a big girl.  She can snap your wrist if she wants to."  As for the apology, "You were being facetious.  What's wrong with that?"  But then, a moment of thought causes her to reflect, she adds quietly, "He's probably pissing her off.  Maybe-yeah you should."  The change in direction certainly prompted by snippets of tones from Power Girl.  "At least cool it for now?"  There's very subtle implications there, too subtle, pertaining to John's effect on Power Girl and that an apology rather than space might just be...well, piling it on..

Jessica Jones has posed:
When John comes to the rescue finally revealing Power Girl's codename, which honestly, most people know without any prompts, Jessica snaps her fingers, "that was going to be my next guess!" Sure it was. "Gotta hand it to you, Power Girl, that's one of the better names, much more intimidating than Supergirl or Wonder Woman. I mean, Power, that's pretty straight forward."

The last thing Jessica expected from literally anyone in this bar, is to be aware of the Roxxon investigation, "...that would be me, how in the heck did you hear about the Roxxon case?" Apparently John has just been upgraded from sleezy street magician who dresses nice, into an interesting person. "I appreciate it, was much sharper than I expected," a thinly veiled reference to the Hand and their many katanas, which Jess got to know intimiately. "Yes, any case that ends up solved, with me still alive, is a good one in my book."

"Wow...someone's touchy, my bad," Jessica spits out as Karen doesn't take kindly to the game of twenty questions. "To be fair I asked way less than twenty..." at the quip on her work, Jess brightens, "I am actually pretty damn good at it. Thank you very much."

"Oh, so you've been sending me a good helping of assholes to punch out my door?" Jess snorts, "thanks a lot for that." But after another swig of her bottle, Jess sobers a bit, and adds, "seriously though, thanks, it helps. I know my office isn't the easiest to find." Mostly because there's no signage, and it's actually her apartment.

"I'm sure they have, a lot of them are assholes that way," Jess notes to Brunnhilde, good thing the bit about the funeral pyre wasn't vocalized. "So how did you get to be with women then? Just an experimental stage gone awry?" Jess gives it a go, while at the same time detaching from the conversation with Power Girl, because that was going famously well. The toast is one Jessica happily joins, "till death do us apart," she doesn't even know how ironic it is to make such a toast with a Chooser of The Slain. Nevertheless, down goes another bottle as she shows her own chugging skills.

John Constantine has posed:
John just shrugs a shoulder at Jessica's question, and smiles in a way that's almost coy. "Word gets around," he says with a cryptic tone, and turns back to Karen.

"There, see, introductions made, no one's going to mistake you for Di or your... what little sister?" he hazards. "The little blonde one, hangs with those children on the island with the tower." A hand holds at Power Girl's height, then lowers to Kara's stature illustratively. "Now make nice chat at them or something," he bids the blonde. "One of 'ems drunk enough to be feeling a little bi-curious and the other's in a deeply comitted relationship with her liquor." John clinks his class off the mouth of Brunnhilde's bottle. "That's some fertile common ground. Unless you want to talk about tossing cars around and whatnot, between the three of you I imagine we could corner the market for heavy lifting and shipping at the docks," he suggests, and wiggles a finger in a loop that includes all three women.

Karen Starr has posed:
    Power Girl, without hesitation, takes the bottle of Walker and pours herself a double-dose of it, nearly filling the small whiskey glass with the stuff and tipping it back while a combination of Brunn, Jess, and John, all conspire against her in an open fashion that may be, entirely, unintended.

    She points, first, and Brunnhilde, "Not helping," she remarks, before her attention goes to John, regarding Jess. "Touchy. I'm touchy." she starts, "Walked into a random bar, and by another woman no less, I get called Super TnA. But I'm touchy." she states, pouring another glass- which means that John had better get into this bottle fast, or she'll get through it all before he gets a chance.

    "Backhanded compliments, but no, I'm definitely not supposed to call it or take any issue with how disingenuous every other remark is being. Sure. Definitely. I'll call it- Power, definitely, better than Wonder." she notes, more At John than To him. Furthermore, another drink.

    "I'm not paying you for that. Try harder." she notes- as if John had shown any interest in being paid for the endeavor.

Brunnhilde has posed:
"No problem," Brunnhilde says with a tip of her head.  "Look, if I didn't do that, I'd just be saving them from some purse snatcher or mugger, so it saves me time."  No.  It doesn't.  As to how hard Alias Investigations is to find, "And yeah.  The first time was awful.  I am /not/ a private investigator."

It seems best to ignore this whole exchange between Power Girl and Jessica at this point, letting it play its course.  But John?  Seems like she can't resist an under the breath comment when he /sounds like/ he's making a lot of assumptions, especially when he can't come up with specific names.  "Wow."  Clink.

"..."  Brunnhilde looks down, considering the mouth of it now that it's been clinked with by John unsolicited.  "I'm pretty sure between the three of us we could corner the market on putting you out of your misery."  Between Jessica's PI skills, Power Girl's raw power, and Brunnhilde letting them do all the work while getting them more drinks, it's practically a foregone conclusion to Brunnhilde.  She smiles broadly at John, the irony not lost in her eyes.

Brunnhilde should have gone with her first instinct though, stay out of it, as Power Girl's reaction confirms.  "Sorry," she replies without any show of snark or amusement, then sticks to her guns.

Jess' question about how Brunnhilde got into women goes unanswered as the tension escalates and she withdraws into her bottle, briefly considering wiping off the mouth of it.  Eh.

Jessica Jones has posed:
"Word gets around, does it...?" Jessica seems to have her suspicion that more is involved, but she'll have to pester John about it some other time. "So what was your name, Mr. Charm?" She asks Constantine, as she didn't quite pick up his name yet. "Oh, and please tell me you're not a street magician...Brunnhilde here seems to think that's the case. I have my doubts."

Then Power Girl proves how much she's been bothered by everything Jess and Brunnhilde have been saying, and Jessica does the simple math, and she doesn't want to be on the other end of a Power Girl punch. So quickly downing the rest of her drink, she calls out, "I'll pay my tab tomorrow, Josie, promise," before looking towards John and murmuring, "if you ever need P.I. services, feel free to stop by Alias."

"So, because I love Josie and want her to keep her bar, I'll just be on my way, sorry if I was a bit of a wiseass, Power Girl, I can't help it," at least she admits to some of her wrong doing, as she makes her way out of Josie's. At least it looks like she made it without starting a fight that would really tear the place apart.

John Constantine has posed:
"Mm, 'nother time, lass," John murmurs in response, and his eyes follow Jessica out of the bar. However Brunn seems to feel about John's prospects, he's certainly not complaining about the company. Or the view.

Not that it's any worse at the bar, mind, and his attentions return to Power Girl and Brunn. His hands flex inarticulate frustration vaguely in Power Girl's direction as if offloading responsibility for Jessica's hasty departure on her. "Blimey, well done on that one," he congratulates Power Girl. "You ran her off just as the convo was taking an interesting turn." John ashes a quarter-inch of cigarette and blows smoke towards the fans overhead. The ash is emptied into a shotglass. The bartender keeps sniffing the air and prowling to find the offending smoker but by some miracle, the cigarette never seems to be in John's fingers when she looks their way.

He turns to the hard-drinking ex-Valkyrie. "How about you then, what's with the chit on your shoulder?" John inquires of Brunnhilde. Seems if he can't ignore her snark, he'll address it head on. "I nipped over for a pint with a mate--" he gestures at Karen-- "and you're running on like I'm some addled git high on dodgy blue pills."

"What're you lurking around here for, anyway? They run you out of Asgard for drinking the place dry?" It's cheap shot, for certain, but the tone John takes suggests he's not just shooting from the hip with the accusation, either. However much Brunn might look like some of the other regulars in the bar, Constantine clearly sees past it.

Karen Starr has posed:
    Power Girl raises a brow, watching Jessica go. Karen just nods a couple of times. "Yup." she remarks, before finishing off the second glass of Walker, and picking up the bottle. It doesn't last very long. Brunnhilde, for her part, doesn't get much of a reaction at first. Power Girl has to handle John.

    "Considering she was just trying to figure out how to hit on Brunnhilde-" she'd picked up the name because, well, of course she did- "I don't think you have a whole lot of a chance." she remarks, raising the bottle in salute before polishing it off. By this point, Karen is ordering drinks on the primary interest of keeping the bartender happy, rather than because the taste is oh-so-great.

    Which, of course, means another cocktail. An old fashioned, specifically.

    "She ran herself off. Had to go somewhere to get the foot out." Karen remarks, before John goes off to commit some form of suicide. She's not sure if she's going to get involved in any way- as the Valkyrie doesn't necessarily look like she's the social type, even with a few drinks in her... But, to be fair, there's plenty to be said about Power Girl, who has yet to even show a hint of intoxication. If she has to be the adult...

Brunnhilde has posed:
"I'm sure that's none of your business other than the fact that I'm trying to have a drink in peace and you're here, being...you?"  Brunnhilde grins sardonically, thinly veiled.  It's a veil that drops like a ton of bricks when John outs her origin.

"Yeah.  Being you," Brunnhilde says, voice low, as if she's decided he's gone way past personal amusement and a growing irritation in general.  She reaches out and grabs the guy in a flash by his clothes, tossing him against the bar with a surprising amount of restraint and precision given she doesn't break his back or anything.

"My business is not your business.  If I hear so much as a word of you whispering that again, you won't anymore."  There's a deep finality to her gaze, something ingrained in exactly what she is rather than just being a part of her threat.  The words are said with a stern calm.  "Got it?"  She holds him there for two or three of his breaths before letting him go, answer or no.

The Valkyrie never even leaves her stool.

Oh John definitely doesn't have a chance now, if he ever did.  Brunnhilde's eyes flick toward Power Girl briefly.  "How you haven't chucked this guy into the ocean I will never know."

John Constantine has posed:
John grunts in pain as he's slammed against the bar. Just because nothing /breaks/ doesn't mean it doesn't hurt to get tossed around by an Asgardian. His hands lift to show nothing's concealed in them-- no weapons, no intention of violence. "Easy on the goods, luv," he wheezes. Pain crosses his features for a moment while he mentallty checks for broken ribs. It takes him a second to push off the bar into a standing position again.

"Power Girl an' me? Oh we're old mates," John explains to Brunn. His head tilts vaguely in Power Girl's direction. "Granted, she can be a sourpuss even on her good days, but push to shove she's a good sort. Proper head on her shoulders and all, even if some besotted tosser can't see pass her obvious natural advantages." There's no fear in his expression. A little wild-eyed alertness, definitely, but he looks almost... amused. Like he'd discovered something interesting about Brunn through her reaction.

His cigarette had gone flying and John reaches for a silvered cigarette case in his pocket to dig a fresh one out. The magician brings his cupped hands to his mouth, stokes it to life with a hollowing of his cheek, and exhales smoke through his nose. There's a different scent to the tobacco, something herbal, suggestive of old wood and incense. Pleasant enough but lacking the bitter scent of burning tar and cheaply mass-made paper. "And-- she dishes it out plenty, sure. But she takes it right back in return without slapping someone half her weight over a few words."

Eyes narrow pointedly at Brunn. John takes another deep drag of the cigarette, smoke billowing from his nose like a dragon.

Karen Starr has posed:
    Power Girl is idly sipping on the old fashioned when it all goes bad- Kinda. Sure, a good friend would be at John's side, pulling Valkyrie off of him- or trying to- and keeping him safe from someone who is physically out of his league. She never claimed to be a good friend or colleague, though. Sadly, a -better- friend will let John take his lumps and keep him from being -killed- by the renegade Asgardian. That's the ballpark Karen lies in, and a dangerous move is to claim that it's a form of friendship.

    As a result, while she doesn't do much, she does stand up calmly and drink the rest of her drink. She doesn't -physically- do much, but she's standing, which is enough of a statement in and of itself. She knows an Asgardian won't play around with the murder button if needed. Not all of them are as jovial as Thor.

    "Can't do that." she states, setting the glass down and then indicating with two fingers that she wants two more. "You show a nerve and he's just going to squeeze it. If you really want him to stop, just answer the question."

Brunnhilde has posed:
Sure, John's jab is not why Brunnhilde did what she did, but apparently explaining is a can of worms or a waste of her time, in her opinion.  "Good.  Sounds like a lovely friendship."  John will find all his bones intact, but he's certainly going to be sore in the morning and a bit bruised.

However, there is one bit of business that does seem unfinished.  Belatedly, Brunnhilde reacts to discovering that John did not get what she meant.  Better safe than sorry.  "I meant that I'm Asgardian.  You're going to have to try a lot harder to insult me."

Brunnhilde hasn't shown any sign of intoxication herself.  "And frankly, just because someone can take it doesn't mean you should dish it.  If you're really a friend, wouldn't you know that?  Or care?"  Yeah, she's going to confront him morally.  Ugh, she thinks to herself, tired of her own tendencies, her own convictions, that seem to beckon her no matter where she goes or how dark things get.

"It's not a nerve," Brunnhilde says to Power Girl, as if some form of intense feelings aren't obviously attached to the whole thing.  "It's a precaution."  At Power Girl's advice, she simply directs her attention to John and finally answers his original question.  "No.  They didn't kick me out."

John Constantine has posed:
"Right, it's not a nerve and you've not a feeling in the world about it," John says. Sarcasm lays heavy in his voice. "Which is why you lost your temper just now."

The magician picks up his coat and shrugs into it. "Y'know, I read once-- the things that make us the angriest are the things we know are true," he comments. "Wise words, that. Power Girl--" His chin pivots away from her, half a nod and half a headshake. "Always a pleasure, luv. Don't let the wet blanket drag your drinking down. You're representing the League after all."

Two fingers holding his cigarette tap to his eyebrow. "Cheers," he bids the two women, and heads to the door. A cold blast of wintery New York wind attacks the barflies, provoking groans of irritation from those sober enough to feel it.

Karen Starr has posed:
    Power Girl offers a mild shrug in Brunnhilde's direction. "He's made his way back from the ocean before." she comments, impassively- neither mean, nor referencing anything other than that John's hard to get rid of.

    There's a small sigh, and she nods to him, as he starts to retreat. "Sure." is all she remarks, watching him go, and pulling open her gauntlet to pay off the rest of the drinking she's been doing. Taking that time to polish off the first of the two cocktails she'd ordered to finish off the night, she looks to Brunn- seemingly unbothered by the cold John had just let in.

    "Sure, it's for his safety too. Probably in ways that neither he nor anyone else comprehends. But that doesn't have any relevance to whether or not it's a nerve." she offers, before downing the second of the two. Unless she's stopped, she'll make her way out into the cold as well.

Brunnhilde has posed:
"You have not seen me lose my temper," Brunnhilde says as if it were simply a fact.  She follows up with a wry chuckle and then polishes off her bottle before getting Josie's attention to order something much much cheaper than what she was drinking.

John has now been shut out.  Whatever he hoped to get across or incite or pass on in terms of wisdom, Brunnhilde isn't going to give him the pleasure of showing any kind of reaction, whether he was successful or not.  When the breeze hits her, she doesn't seem to react, also unbothered.

"I guess that's unsurprising," Brunnhilde says of John, as if he were some kind of pest that could survive a nuclear holocaust.  Cough-cough.  She sits there a moment, looking down at her bottle, completely stuck in her head for some reason.  Then she looks over to Power Girl, facing her at her words, though it might seem like she was going to anyways.  "I know," she admits.

"I shouldn't have egged her on at your expense.  I'm sorry."  No 'I didn't realize,' no excuses, but the Asgardian decided it this was important, that a simple one word apology wasn't enough, wasn't /right/.  "Let me buy you a drink?  Or three?" pointing out how much it'd take to make an equivalent gesture, even if three doesn't come close to it either.

Karen Starr has posed:
    Karen pauses at the door, turning somewhat to face Brunnhilde as the cold causes her cape to billow in the wind. She sighs a bit, before shaking her head. "Hey, you thought it'd be funny. I didn't take a whole lot of offense, but I did expect a bit better. I don't really know either of you, so my bar wasn't set especially high- other girl is just bad at limbo. Really bad. Listen, right now, is a bad time. Some other time, sure." she notes, before turning again and making her way through the door.

    "Stay safe." she calls, before she's off into the sky- a small Pop echoing down amongst the street as Power Girl breaks the sound barrier, heading off towards god knows what emergency requires her attention.

Brunnhilde has posed:
Brunnhilde rises, because it's just weird to talk to someone so tall who is already standing, no matter how far away they are.  "I thought a little humor would relieve the tension.  I misjudged.  Please don't presume my intentions.  I expected better too.  Perhaps we should get to know each other before passing judgement on each other," Brunnhilde says evenly.

"You too."  Brunnhilde digs out some more cash, the last of it, and deposits it on the bar.  "I'm taking this to go.  You got any paper bags?"  The bartender shakes their head no and so the former valkyrie tucks the booze into her jacket before heading out into the cold to walk it off on her way back to her meager excuse for an apartment.