5586/Working Late

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Working Late
Date of Scene: 14 March 2021
Location: Damage Control offices
Synopsis: Joan works late. So does Catman.
Cast of Characters: Thomas Blake, Joan Wright




Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake loves old buildings. the ornate architecture makes them way easier to climb. At least if you're Catman. But he doesn't really like to climb. Yes there are documented cases of lions climbing trees. But they don't do it often. So while scoping out the Damage control building he spots a delivery man on a Vespa he seizes the opportunity and steps out of the shadows to claim the bag of steaming food. The delivery man is amply compensated and Thomas is huge and scary looking so he retreats.

Thomas pulls his bronze lion mask on and settles his hoodie into place. Darth Simba. He rings the doorbell after pulling gloves on. "Delivery for Ms. Wright from Royal Dragon Restaurant." Wow she must get a lot of kidding with that name. He waits.

Joan Wright has posed:
There's a pause before another voice comes on. Definitely not feminine. "...Again? Dammit doesn't that woman ever go home? Just go to the front desk, we'll run it up." There's the loud buzz as the front door unlatches, granting Thomas access in to the lobby area."

A security guard sits at the front desk, head tilted down as he reaches over for the guest sign in book for the day. Shaking his head.

Thomas Blake has posed:
Insert double sized panel here of Catman leaping at a very surprised guard. Second panel has him tying up the guard very securely. Third panel has a guard trying vainly to tase him and not getting close. You get the idea. Let's move on.

<Knockknockknock> "Ms Wright?"

<Knockknockknock> "Ms Wright?"

<Knockknockknock> "Ms Wright?" He waits for the door to open. The dumplings smell very good. Working late... probably some dried up old spinster.

Joan Wright has posed:
In one of the shared offices, Joan sits at a desk to one side of the room. Being that she's relatively new, she didn't get either of the ones near the window but the corner furthest away from it. It's a simple layout. Four corners. Four desks. Some file cabinets and a mini-fridge for the stuff that can't be trusted in the community fridge in the kitchen area. It's also kind of dark in the room. Being that she's the only one there, she opted to save some energy and just use the lamp at her desk to get stuff done. Besides, if she's working late. Why does it have to FEEL more like work than it has to?

Her head lifts up at the knocking. Hearing her name, she smiles. Looks like the delivery's here. Dumpling time! She gets up. Walking slowly to the door as she doesn't want to aggravate the ankle more than she needs to. "I'll be right there." She calls out.

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake waits and tries the doorknob, finding it unlocked. Very different from Gotham. Indeed. He yanks it open and steps in quickly, shutting it behind him.

"Good evening. I'm an intruder... though I do have your dinner. You should take it. Go back to your desk and enjoy it. I need you to trust me on two points: I do not want to hurt you, and I most certainly will if you resist -which given our relative masses, sizes and equipment as well as your injury- would be very foolish. Do we have an understanding, Ms. Wright?"

Joan Wright has posed:
Joan managed to get halfway over when the door was yanked open, showing NOT the delivery guy she was expecting. She comes to a stop. Favoring the hurt ankle as she ends up standing there. Her head tilts up, looking to the taller individual. Dammit. Not again.

Her attention shifts to the bag in hand as his introduction comes off as the start of the oddest ransom demand ever. The look of defeat filters into her expression as she looks to the food. And she so wanted to-

That is until he says that she should take it. She blinks. "...what?" She couldn't have heard that right. Could she?

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake takes Joan by the elbow, not unkindly. "Let me take you back to your desk. You're hurt. I want you to sit there and enjoy your dinner while I take care of some business here. This is not a kidnapping. You are not a hostage. I have things to do and you're going to sit down and eat your dinner. It's rough working nights, I know. Believe me. Where's your desk, beautoful? I was afraid I'd be dealing with someone makes Mrs. Grundy look like Gigi Hadid. This is your desk? Give me a second. Going to give it a quick toss. Open the drawers, look for alarms, weapons. Can't be too careful. I want to make a week without accidents. Ah sorry about this..." He yanks the phone off Joan's desk pulling the wiring loose.

Joan Wright has posed:
Joan is a bit speechless as she ends up being led back over to her desk. Which isn't hard to figure out being it is the only one with a light on. He's letting her eat the food. It's just so... different.

She blinks out of her stupor as the cord gets ripped out of the phone. Which causes for a light on her computer to go out as well. Well fudge. There goes phone AND internet and knowing her luck, She's not going to be getting any work done tonight until the IT people get that fixed. She lets out a deep sigh. How long ago did she save her work? She glances over to one of the other desks. Hmm. She looks back over to the large guy messing up her desk. All he's really going to find is the phone Ted gave her, writing implements, a letter opener, a stapler, and some scissors. Well... and the small tub of LEGOs in the bottom drawer. "...I get to eat?"

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake looks up from puzzling out the reason for the Legos. "Sure. It will keep you out of trouble and like I said I know working nights is tough. Now. Sit. Down." Slightest edge to that voice. "I want to be done and out of here before your guards loose circulation or some other intruder comes by." He shuts the drawers and seems satisfied, watching for her reaction. He glances at the cargo pants. Hmm. They do hold more than a utility belt. He keeps one eye on her.

Joan Wright has posed:
As the large costumed man moves away from her desk. She cautiously steps over to sit down, reaching back to roll back the second chair she borrowed from a coworker's desk. Lifting her leg up, she swivels the seat over to where it's just over the second seat. Lowering the leg in place. She looks to the bag on her desk. Still a bit disbelieving before she opens it to pull out two boxes and a set of chopsticks.

An expression of relief comes across her features as she opens to steaming boxes to find the rice and dumplings. No caviar. No crackers. No champagne. NONE of that stuff she didn't ask for in the first place. It is her actual order. "Thank you."

She pauses, considering. "You're... in no way affiliated with this restaurant, right?"

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake begins his... business behind Joan. There's some clicking some clacking before he speaks. "No, beautiful I'm not. What's a pretty thing like you working so late for? You should be out enjoying yourself. That certainly smells good. I may go out for some Thai after this." Drawers begin sliding open. Papers are shuffled.

"Whoever organized this is very conscientious. I should be done before you finish. Hrrrrrmmmm." Softer click. Papers shuffle. This repeats several times. "I'm sorry I have to make a mess here. Give them my apologies. Uhm, Im not making work for you, am I, gorgeous? I probably am. Hang on."

A large, strong and thickly callused hand is placed on Joan's shoulder, feeling like it could easily crush the scapula and collarbone beneath it. then he places stack of five twenties on the desk in front of her.

"I hope that's enough. I never know how much to tip." A metal clad hand reaches over her to spear a dumpling with a retractile metal talon. After a moment he puts another twenty on the desk. "Ofmygoff ifths godth."

Joan Wright has posed:
"Ok good. I'd hate to have to find another dumpling restaurant again. There was this one in Gotham that had really amazing dumplings but, they ruined it by pulling something similar. After we made repairs to the place too. Which was REALLY mean. So can't go there again. I found these guys through a food festival. Amazing sampler."

She grabs the chopsticks, eating quietly as Thomas does whatever he is doing behind her back. That's her coworker's file cabinet anyways. Also as previously established. Injured. Smol. Not weaponized. Yeah. Take the dumplings and stay put. She nods to the question about whether or not he's making more work for her. That's kind of an obvious response. But at least she's not going to have to deal with that on an empty stomach.

Whatever relaxation Joan had goes away as she feels the pressure on her shoulders. Eyes widening, she tenses until the money is set down in front of her. "What is the m-EEK!"

The inquiry to the purpose of the money is bitten back as the presence of a claw appearing in her field of vision takes up more priority. She moves her body back in reaction to the sudden cutlery, causing for the chair to roll back in the process. She yelps a bit as her raised foot shifts the wrong way. But then all is revealed.

A dumpling has been stolen.

"Hey!"

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake's voice comes from behind her sounding pained. "I left you another twenty for the dumpling. Sheesh. I skipped dinner." Ruffle ruffle ruffle. Scatter scatter. More clicks and shuffling.

"Oh. What were they pulling exactly? Oh someone named Ted is texting you. He can wait. He your boyfriend?"

Ruffle ruffle ruffle. Scatter scatter. More clicks and shuffling. "Nearly done. You can call Ted back shortly." Both hands drop on her shoulders, "If you give me your word you will wait five minutes before raising an alarm, I will leave you untied. Deal?" The hands give a little clench like a masseuse. "Man you're tense. Relax. We're nearly done."

Joan Wright has posed:
Joan glances over to the twenty that was indeed added to the stack. "...They invited us back for a meal and there was an abduction beforehand. Do you know how mean that is? You're looking forward to a nice meal so you haven't eaten yet. You're hungry. And they abduct you just as you're about to go inside? and their solution is to offer fish eggs in the car. THOSE don't compare." Based from the change in tone. She is still a bit sore about the topic which is NOT helping with the tension.

"...five minutes? Yes.... I can probably guarantee that. It's going to take that long to get to another desk." She glances to the aching ankle. Dammit. She probably twisted it again.

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake pauses. "Caviar? What'd they call themselves? How were they dressed? I agree with you about the caviar. No replacement at all. I had a 'caregiver' try to con me. Offered me ribs... produced a Mr. Rib sandwich from Big Belly. I got even." He is silent waiting for a reply. His hands are not on her shoulders now.

Joan Wright has posed:
Joan tilts her head at the question. "...They were dressed up. Hats. Gaston and... something. Not sure which was which though. It's been awhile. Last year sometime. Who thinks dumplings and caviar are interchangable?"

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake gives a small gasp of recognition. "Those assholes. Yeah sounds like them. Gaston and Alphonse. Well I'm sorry they inconvenienced you, Ms. Wright. You've been a lovley captive. I am done... don't get up. I don't want you to hurt yourself further." The Kord Co phone is tossed on her desk. "Any dumpling left... wow, you ate all that? A little thing like you. Where do you keep it? You have to run around in a shower to get wet. Well I am out of here. Good night, be safe. Don't forget Abbott and Costello downstairs. Say hi to Ted for me."

Joan Wright has posed:
"Well," Joan looks to the container, "There were only six and I had help eating them. Thanks for letting me have my dinner." Joan looks to the phone that's set down, reaching over to unlock it. "So. Five minutes?" She asks, opening up the stopwatch function.

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake chuckles when he sees the proof of her good intentions. "Not a second less or I will be very disappointed. Good night, beautiful." He sounds sincere as he warns and compliments. Then there's silence. If Joan turns around she sees a file cabinet opened and contracts pulled out and scattered over the floor. A lot of contracts.