6013/The Dumpling Curse Continues

The Dumpling Curse Continues
Date of Scene:	22 April 2021
Location:	Hot Dumpling Restaurant
Synopsis:	Joan tries her luck again with having a nice uninterrupted meal of dumplings. You can guess how that turned out.
Cast of Characters:	Thomas Blake, Joan Wright

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Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake spent a little time in Gotham looking up a certain restaurant. He had heard goody goody types frequented, but it was approaching evening and surely they were heading out to their night job by now? In a table in the back Thomas tears into a double-sized order of ribs, looking sourly at and autographed photo of the Blue Beetle on the wall. A pair of pretty servers are spending entirely too much time catering to his whims. Life is good. In a rare lapse he has a plate of dumplings at his table as well.

Joan Wright has posed:
"He swung a sword at you two... Really?"

Joan looks over to her coworker, giving a nod as they walk down the street. A recent event having necessated a trip to Gotham this evening. It was nearing meal time so sustenance must be sought. The closest option happening to be in China Basin.

While the prospect of once again having dumplings from a certain restaurant in the area is highly desirable. Past experiences have made Joan a bit wary and she almost passed up on the option. Until one of the guys also expressed a desire to try out the food there. How could she not? It should be quick. Pop in, To Go order. Pop out. What could go wrong?

The two Damage Control employees step in. Taking note of the line, the cargo pants wearing architect sighs, settling in for the wait. Ok it's going to be a bit longer in the restaurant but it's okay. She's not by herself! See? PLANNING!

"Oh this might take awhile...I'll be right back. Bathroom."

Eyes widen as she turns her head quickly, looking to the coworker walking to the BACK OF THE RESTAURANT. Leaving her up front. Well. Fudge.

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake sees the cute blonde in the back of the line. She looks... damn.

He slips his wraparound sunglasses on and slips his hoodie on. Damn. She'd have to show up here. he spent time with her on his last job. All right just enjoy your dinner. The table is in the back. What are the odds she'd see him? And he was wearing a mask. He looks downward, hunching over and working on his ribs. He tries not to growl while eating.

Joan Wright has posed:
Alright. Well, now by herself, Joan shakes her head and glances back to the line. Ok. Well she at least had someone walk with her to the restaurant so things should be good. There's plenty of people there. So the odds of someone causing her problems INSIDE the restaurant are pretty much slim to none right?

Her head tilts curiously glancing into the restaurant area. SHe's got the odd feeling like she's being watched... Not recognizing anyone she shakes her head.

Stupid paranoia. No one's watching. Just relax and think of what you're going to order.

Thomas Blake has posed:
People in New York say there's nothing dummer than a Gotham thug. Case in point: three men with pistols enter the restaurant and pull gaiters down around their faces. A fourth with a whippet version of a shotgun takes position at the door after locking it.

"Oh for... just what I need," Thomas mutters. Not enough to empty the cash box, these guys probably mean to rob everyone on here. Not that he cares about the money in his pocket. But he'd rather not give a statement to police. Or... have the Bat intervene.

The shotgun blasts into the ceiling. "This is a hold up! Keep your hands on the tables. Grab the counter. Stay where you are!"

Oh why don't you rob the Wayne Family Reunion or someplace with money.

Joan Wright has posed:
Wait. They went into the restaurant BEFORE pulling the gaiters down? Wha-?

Well, Joan wasn't facing the door so she still didn't see the faces. UNFORTUNATELY due to her position in line she was probably one of the closest civillians when the shotgun blast goes off. "OHMYGODAREYOUKIDDINGME?!" Joan cries out in fustration before she turns her head to look to the gun men.

She doesn't put her hands on the table or the counter because she's so darn far from either of those that the Stay Where you are sount seems the most applicable at the moment. She sighs, shaking her head. Ok. Bear with them and then she can get dumplings afterwards.

Thomas Blake has posed:
Apparently Joan's logical response was lacking because a robber shoves her roughly between her shoulder blades -propelling her into Thomas' table. Thomas rubs the bridge of his nose in frustration. Hiding his face some more. The impact of Joan against the table sends his ribs to the floor (his dinner, not his actual ribs.) He sighs deeply. Then wordlessly slides his dumplings over by her and indicates she should eat. He's pretty sure she'll recognize him in short order and his dinner is ruined. He watches the robbers begin to move into the center of the dining room in a bunch facing outward.

"Wallets, watches, bling, everything. Empty yer pockets!" Another blast at the ceiling drops a ceiling panel on the floor. Thomas regards the ribs splattered on the floor.

Joan Wright has posed:
Well apparently bearing with them means being steered rather rapidly over to a table which, while 'nearby' was by no means close to where she initially started from. As she smacks the table, her eyes squint in response along with a mousey 'Ee!' coming from her lips. Well, there's an empty chair. She sits down. Well. Might as well be comfortable.

As the dumplings slide over, Joan looks over to the man at the man making the offer. How did he-. She looks to him for a moment before giving a look of thanks. She glances away from his face, instead looking to the dumplings.

That is until the demands for emptying the pockets occurs. She reaches into her top most pockets, tugging out an extremely thin wallet, notepad, pen, and tape measure. They are set on the edge of the table before she grabs a dumpling to chew on. It'll take time before they get to their table, right?

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake lets a small smile play over his lips. He arches an eyebrow at the growing pile of gear accumulating on the table.

"You too, big man. This gun makes me ten feet tall!" Thomas huffs and pulls a slim wallet out. It holds several hundred dollar bills. He has no watch or wallet and no credit cards.

"Hey, blondie... I ain't looking to open a fucking Staples. Give it up or I cut those pants off and go through them at home." He knocks the plate of dumpling away from her. "Dinner break later!"

Joan Wright has posed:
Dumpling in mouth already. She watches as the plate is shoved away. The expression darkens as she slowly chews. Right. The other pockets. She nods. Tilting to the side as she glances up in thought, the sound of a zipper accenting the mood. She tugs out what appears to be a phone. Setting it screen down onto the table. Joan gives a wave to the phone.

"HMM." She emits soundwise, covering up the sound coming from the phone. Shift shift. She tilts the other way, unzipping the next pocket.

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake is starting to like the little blonde hardware store. A snort escapes him, half amusement. Half... something darker. The thug turns to regard him swings the gun aroundto try to put him in his place or ready it to pistol whip Joan. We may never know.

"Reeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!"

Batman he is not. Many people said that including Thomas. However, when the madness takes hold, when he just says to hell with it, Batman would be hard pressed to deal with him. The gunman drops his gun as his wrist is seized in an iron grip and he is hurled into the knot of robbers, taking another with him to the floor. Thomas leaps onto a table and the claws come out. Literally.

Joan Wright has posed:
Wrenching out the small hard plastic case containing a mini screwdriver set, the Damage Control empoyee is about to set it down on the table when the movement from the gunman causes for the sleeping sense of self preservation to come in. The case is dropped on the table, smacking itself open to drop out the various screwdrivers with a metalic ping. She doesn't bother gathering them up as she's sliding herself back to the seat positioned benind the one she's sitting in to get some space from the swinging gun.

The next few moments are fast. Joan blinks as her newfound tablemate is now taking on the robbers. When the claws come out, Joan swallows the dumpling. Ah HA! Alright. This makes more sense now.

... Sort of.

Hmm. Where did the tape measure go?

Thomas Blake has posed:
Bringing a knife to a gunfight is a bad move. But so is bringing a gun to a knife fight. It depends on how much room you have really. Within ten feet a knife is quicker tHan a gun.

Or a shotgun.

Thomas is a double threat. He can throw them. Yokes. Thus the leader now has a knife sticking in his shoulder and is too busy screaming to worry about shooting. He has more more to worry about as an enraged Catman begins tossing his gang around like throw pillows. Punch slash slash punch! brutal as he weaves throw the four... err the three... errr two, you get the idea.

He's very good at this. There is a one eyed lion who would agree. Assuming he lived.

Joan Wright has posed:
The architect watches the scene, brows lifted as Thomas becomes the apex predator of the restaurant now. Most of those who have the sense are looking away but the general sense of something being off makes the architect a bit wary. Her hands fiddle with the tape measure in hand, wrapping some of the tape around her hand and flicking the locking mechanism to the open position.

When she sees one robber who was furthest from the pack try to join in. Joan slings her hand outward. And from an outside observer perspective it looks like a yellow beam juts out from her hand, launching a black and metal lump of something. To the reader, we all know it is the base of the tape measure letting the force of the hand motion and the weight of the base do all the work. As the side of the tape comes into contact with the man's neck. His forward momentum inteferes just enough to where the tape starts slinging the heavy base around. Orbiting it, and the tape around the man's throat.

"HURRK-" THUNK!

The man falls backwards. Joan releases her end of the tape, causing for the unlocked tape measure to recoil the extended yellow length.

ThwipaThwipaThwipaThwipaThwipaThwipa- The tape measure spins on the floor.

Joan grabs another dumpling.

Thomas Blake has posed:
Done. He thought there was one more but apparently he'd done for that one in passing. Crooks today. He walks over to the leader and hauls him to his feet, retrieving his knife.

"The knife went through your deltoid. You'll live. I was aiming for the carotid. You got lucky. Now then..." He kicks the shotgun away.

"You DON"T have your men stand in the middle of the restaurant in a bunch to be taken out. You keep them loose and moving, monitoring your victims. You... don't you faint you asshole! Have some pride... You do not wait in the doorway where people outside may see you. And in Gotham you don't stand under a skylight. Especially Gotham. You fire one shot from a pistol to establish your guns in fact work. Not multiple shotgun blasts. Why waste the shells? Why fire such a noisy weapon? One more thing..."

Catman cracks the leader across his face with no warning. "Be nice to women! It's just good karma." He turns back to Joan.

"Excuse me blondie... could you please give me my billfold?" He points at the leather pouch with the bloody knife before wiping it on the crook's shirt.

Joan Wright has posed:
Mouth full. Joan gives a closed mouth nod as she leans forwards to pluck the wallet up off the table. She pauses to swallow the chunk of food before walking over to offer the wallet to Thomas. "If you haven't paid for your dinner I'll get it." She offers. "... Being I ate part of it."

Off to the back of the restaurant there is the FWOOSH of water as a toilet in the bathroom is flushed. Soon after the squeak of a sink faucet.

Joan looks to the robbers and then back to Thomas. "And check the bathrooms, right?"

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake takes the billfold. "Thank you... yes, check the bathrooms... I'm not a cop sweetie. I hear sirens. I'm getting the Hell out of Dodge. There's guns on the floor. Let the staff handle the goons. Or wait for the police." He turns and books through the door.

Joan Wright has posed:
Joan turns her head to watch the fleeing man for a moment before turning back. As staff members deal with the mess left behind. The Damage Control employee gathers up her tape measure and walks back to the table.

Her coworker takes the side of the table just recenly vacated by Thomas. "I thought we were doing to go." He questions.

Joan shrugs, collecting up her belongings and taking a moment to refix her unfixed, fixed phone, "Changed my mind." Besides, the cops are coming soon. This might be the best time to eat at this restaurant.

...

Right?