8565/Gotham Night out

Gotham Night out
Date of Scene:	06 November 2021
Location:	Noonan's Sleazy Bar
Synopsis:	Ollie asks Quiet:
Cast of Characters:	Oliver Queen, Quiet

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Oliver Queen has posed:
It's a dreary Friday night in Gotham. The bars downtown are packed. At the edge of the city there's a pretty sleazy dive though. One full of criminals and villains. Sitting in the back of the room is one Oliver Quinn -- well...sort of. He has his hood up, and a half empty drink in front of him, but it would seem he has not attracted anyone to join him at his solitary table. People give him a wide berth in the establishment. He seems to be waiting for someone. Or something. Either way he is not moving much, only occasionally reaching out to take his drink and have a sip. A couple of men at another table nearby seem to be giving him dirty looks occasionally, but they haven't made a commotion or a move towards him yet.

Quiet has posed:
If she was perfectly honest, Quiet's own career and past really kinda marked her as barely more than a criminal herself. Perhaps that was why she had no qualms about walking into a place like this.

Of course, technically she was a mercenary, but it really was a thin line.

Her physiology meant she wasn't exactly rugged up for the weather, but her form was wrapped in a pair of shorts that likely only just counted as more than hotpants and a low-cut shirt. Odds are the silent super-soldier was aware of the looks she'd draw as she first entered, but it seemed to bother her very little as she made her way to the bar.

Oliver Queen has posed:
Oliver Queen studies the new arrival for a few moments as she strides to the bar. Perhaps a little longer than absolutely necessary to size her up as a potential threat. But, well, he's not the only one. He watches as she arrives at the bar and then downs the rest of his drink before he stands up from his table in the corner. He gives the two men eyeing him up a glare, and then walks to the bar, near where Quiet ends up. He doesn't say a word, but taps his empty glass on the bar, and waits for service. He waits silently. Either he'll be acknowledged, or not.

Quiet has posed:
The task of getting a drink without talking wasn't the easiest task, Quiet herself having to tap on the bar with her knuckles to try and draw attention.

Eventually it had to work, right? The sniper points to her order before finally glancing sidewards, noting Ollie's arrival and giving a nod of her head in casual greeting.

Oliver Queen has posed:
"New here?" Queen asks, not looking at her after her nod to him. His drink arrives first, and he tugs out a bill to pay for both drinks. He then nods back towards his table, and starts to walk that way. Apparently the bartender lets him stay while drinking at his glacial pace because he tips well. The note had at least three figures on it.

Back at his table, Oliver slides into his chair angled in the corner so no one can come up behind him. "Don't have to sit with your back to the room, but...I get the corner spot," he explains to the woman.

Quiet has posed:
A nod from Quiet, acknowledgement of the drink paid for with a raise of her eyebrow and then again in affirmative of his question.

There's a moment of consideration, her eyes taking in all the details of the other patrons she could before there's a shrug of her shoulders.

Why not?

Her own seat taken, she does indeed have to take the 'second best' spot defensively for the room, but then having superhuman senses probably made up for that.

Lifting her hands, several quick movements appear to be ASL communicating, but given how rare the language was among most, she pauses to look for the eye-contact that would suggest understanding before going simpler: A point to her own mouth and then a shake of her head before a point to her ears and bringing her fingers together for a universal 'okay' symbol.

Oliver Queen has posed:
For a moment Oliver continues to size up the woman, and then he makes the sign for understanding: a flicked finger pointing upwards. It's a quick movement, but not superhumanly so. He then crosses his arms over his chest and asks, "Looking for work? Or just passing through?" The man waits for a response patiently, eyes occasionally darting to other parts of the room, but for the most part his attention is on her and her signs.

Quiet has posed:
Impressive, there's a nod of approval as she takes a sip of her drink and then lifts her hands to keep 'talking'.

<Just finished a job. Downtime while I wait for the call for the next.> she signs, herself seemingly paying the rest of the room no mind. <What about you? What brings you here?>

Oliver Queen has posed:
"Talent scouting. And you're the most interesting thing that's walked through the door this week. Too bad most the men here want to see about your other...attributes." Oliver replies with a bit of a small smirk. He might be one of those men. Either way, he then signs something to her. It's clear he's...fluent enough in the practice to know what he's doing, but he is definitely not a native speaker, and somewhat rusty. He signs, <I may have a job for you, if you don't mind a lot of boredom.>

Quiet has posed:
A raise of her brow at his words, the silent woman's head tilts to the side before she gestures for him to keep speaking. He wasn't wrong about the majority of the attention she might gather, it wasn't beyond her to use it to her advantage. But to recognise there was more to her? Curious.

<What sort of job?>

Oliver Queen has posed:
<Just babysitting. Have a friend who is doing a stakeout. Want you to keep an eye on them to make sure nothing gets the drop on them. One week. Ten grand.> Oliver signs. He is starting to sign faster, so apparently some of his muscle memory regarding his ASL training is coming back. But, he does occasionally stumble. He stops to take a drink from his glass, and then waits for her response. "I promise I won't be anywhere in the vicinity, and really there shouldn't be any trouble at all as long as you stay out of sight."

Quiet has posed:
<Lethal protection or non-lethal?>

An important question, but it's asked so casually as she takes her drink and makes another sip. <Or are you wanting someone to call for help if things go wrong?>

Oliver Queen has posed:
<Non-lethal, if possible. And mostly the that, yes. Call me if there's any problems. There won't be any problems.> He seems fairly confident in that, and then he tugs out a blank business card, and scrawls a phone number on it, before sliding it to her. <Job starts tomorrow. Pier 47 down the way.> He then stands, downs the rest of this second drink, winces, and says, "Don't be late."