6210/A Gotham Evening

A Gotham Evening
Date of Scene:	13 May 2021
Location:	8A - Viola's Loft Apt
Synopsis:	A rainstorm catches Viola while in Gotham. But a hot meal makes it worth the trip.
Cast of Characters:	Harvey Dent, Viola Fiore

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Harvey Dent has posed:
April showers bring May flowers, right? Well, Gotham has a hard time getting out of the first half and into the second. Rain pelts the windows of the brownstone as Harvey leans in to check the oven. He grins softly to himself, the roast inside smelling divine. Slacks and a nice shirt make up hi outfit for the date tonight. The fireplace crackles gently, and he brushes his fingers back through his dark hair. He sets out a bottle of wine, and pauses when he hears the doorbell ring.

He makes his way down to the door and removes the kickstop and several bolts. He opens it once peeking outside, and flashes a smile.

Viola Fiore has posed:
The time when Viola was expected to arrive comes, and then goes. Perhaps the rain has something to do with it. The sound of the drops pattering against the windows is a constant background sound. Out on the street people hurry along the sidewalks, those with umbrellas faring only slightly better than those without given how strong the wind is gusting. As Harvey glances out the window, poor Mrs. Edmonson across the street has her umbrella cave in under the wind, the woman getting soaked as she climbs the steps to her place and unlocks her door to go inside.

A little later there finally comes the ring of his doorbell. As Harvey makes it down to the door and opens it, smiling, he sees a thoroughly soaked Italian girl. Viola's hair is drenched, and she's holding the remains of her own umbrella. She must have taken the subway from the HyperLoop station, and walked the last few blocks from there. Her jacket managed to keep some of the rain off of her, but not all of it. "I really should have checked the weather before I left," she says, looking like a drowned rat. Ok, a cute drowned rat. "It was sunny in New York," she says as she steps inside.

Harvey Dent has posed:
He gapes for a second, and then cannot help but laugh. "Oh, baby. Baby, I'm sorry." He reaches out to help her in, leaning in to give her a hug. Sure, it wettens his own clothing, but he doesn't care. "Wet shoes off. I'll get you a towel, okay? The fire is going." He turns to head into the bathroom to snag a towel for his girl.

The dinner DOES smell amazing, the scents wafting down from the kitchen above.

Viola Fiore has posed:
Viola Fiore steps inside, shaking out her broken umbrella outside on the porch before bringing it in. She removes her jacket. Her clothes beneath are wet if not completely soaked at least. Skirt and blouse. "I probably should have just hired a car," she says in retrospect. "Though I knew how the traffic would be in the rain, so thought, oh, the subway will save time," she says with a sigh and a self-deprecating shake of her head.

Viola hangs up her jacket, accepting the towel when he brings it and patting at her hair and then her clothing. "Well, even with the rain, that smell seems like it's going to be well worth the trip," she says, drawing in the aroma. "What'd you make?"

Harvey Dent has posed:
"Pot roast. Roasted veggies. Mashed potatoes. Wine. Well, I didn't make the wine." He grins as he makes his way into the room and wraps the towel around her shoulders. "You have your PJs here from the last visit if you want to dry off and switch into those. I don't mind. We don't want you getting sick, right?"

He leans in and kisses her forehead before he walks around her to check on the food in the kitchen. "I could just pick you up from the Hyperloop next time, if you want."

Viola Fiore has posed:
Viola slides a hand over Harvey's arm and up to his shoulder. "I'll be ok like this. I don't know if we'll finish the meal if I change now," she teases him. She moves to follow him into the kitchen after slipping her heels off and leaving them at the door.

His place is so nice. It has a different feel than her father's home, which is more of a mansion, or compound even. Always with a few of the family around. This is more like her apartment, but higher class. The furnishings so tasteful and comfortable, yet it makes her feel special to be here with him. She moves over behind Harvey as he checks the food, wrapping her arms about his waist and looking over his shoulder. "No, no need for you to drive over there," she tells him. "Next time I'll check the weather first is all."

Harvey Dent has posed:
The man laughs and nods. "Alright, that's fair."

His home is old, for sure. This whole neighborhood is. Like many in Gotham, the area has sunk into depravity, but the area has been regentrified (For good or ill). There is a mostly hipster community and a very fine street scene, as well. He likes it here. The brownstone has an old feel to it, and looks like it was built back in the heydey of the city, like it was. He doesn't live lavishly...but it's nice. Quite.

He mmns as she slips her arms around him and grins, checking the temperature on the roast with a meat thermometer. "Alright, if you're sure."

Viola Fiore has posed:
Viola nuzzles her lips against the taller, older man's cheek. And then she gives his bottom a pat as she moves to get the dishes and help set the table. She folds the napkins just so, adding an elegance to the table. Practice from her job definitely doesn't hurt there.

"I'll hope the wine so it can breathe," she says, moving over to the bottle and getting an opener. She deftly removes the cork and sets it aside, two glasses nearby. "How is work this week? Any new cases going on?" she asks.

Harvey Dent has posed:
He shivers slightly at the nuzzle, and he chuckles. "Smart," he offers when she mentions opening the wine. He finally pulls the roast out of the oven and sets it on the counter. He then tents it with some tinfoil. "It needs to rest for a bit, too."

He makes his way over to watch her do her thing and he nods. "Mn. Issues with the Bratva. They're trying to push into the docks, which is pissing off other groups and..."