9008/A ninja and treasure hunter's first date

A ninja and treasure hunter's first date
Date of Scene:	08 December 2021
Location:	Rockefeller Center
Synopsis:	Roland takes June on a date rock climbing and to a nice steak dinner.
Cast of Characters:	Roland Livingston, June Connor

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Roland Livingston has posed:
When Roland comes to meet June he's in the back seat of a Bentley SUV, his driver taking the wheel so that the passengers can focus on one another. The Englishman's dressed pretty casually, wearing a sweatsuit and flat soled sneakers. As he steps out of the vehicle he's got a gift bag in one hand and his phone in the other, so that he can text June and let her know he's at the agreed upon meeting spot.

As the vehicle idles Roland checks out his surroundings, making a few mental notes here and there. It's often interesting to see how other people live and what their neighborhoods are like.

June Connor has posed:
    Where was Roland given the location to meet her? A corner in Manhattan. June is wearing another pair of shredded jeans, and what she has on her top isn't really easily visible, since she has her denim jacket buttoned up. She was at a bus stop across the street actually, and a few people give her a strange look as she jay walks across the busy traffice of New York during a stop light, and get into the Bentley. Surely none of them are going to be riding in one anytime soon. "What's up?" she asks, looking around the interior. "I was actually wondering if you were for real, but with a car like this, okay, I guess I gotta concede," she says, flopping carelessly into the seat next to Roland.

Roland Livingston has posed:
"Hello there. You're looking well," Roland says to June with a smile on his face. "I thought you might want to try something a bit adventurous today. If I'm wrong I'll make it up to you with dinner." He offers over the gift bag he brought. It's fairly large. Large enough for a shoe box, as a matter of fact. "Feiyue sneakers. The preferred sneaker of Shaolin monks. They're inexpensive, but they're flexible and comfortable and great for where I'm taking you. If these aren't your size I got a couple of different pairs in the back. The ones that don't fit you I'll donate to Hope House."

The vehicle starts off as the two begin talking, merging smoothly into traffic. The driver knows what he's doing even in Manhattan. Roland looks out the window for a moment, then says, "I think you'll like this place. I've only been once, but I had a blast."

June Connor has posed:
    "Adventurous, huh?" June asks. "We gonna rob a bank?" She takes the box, having no return present of her own, and gives a lopsided smile of curiosity as she pulls the shoe box out. "Feiyue, huh? Sounds exotic. Shaolin monks and all." She looks down at her own feet. They bear a pair of old worn out Converse, which probably pre-owned by someone else given the look of their wear and tear. She unlaces them, starting to remove them.

Roland Livingston has posed:
"Rob a bank? Not on the first date," Roland says with a chuckle. "You'll like these shoes. I do most of my training in them." Plus, he just hooked her up with some new kicks. "Shaolin monks can be pretty neat guys. We had one train us in a few kung fu styles for a couple of years back at the castle. Damn fine fighter. I was about fourteen or so before I could take him." He chuckles and turns to look outside once more, "We're almost there. Just around the corner." He looks towards the driver, "Smooth trip as always, Jake. The vehicle is yours as soon as you drop us off. I'll let you know when we're fifteen minutes out or so."

June Connor has posed:
    June reveals rather ordinary gray socks, and tries the shoes on. "Holy shit, they fit. You been stalkin' me to know my shoe size?" she asks with a grin as she tightens the laces. "Wow, they feel really comfy. Thanks," she offers. Her mouth seems to be awkward with the appreciation. "So now you can beat up shaolin monks, huh?" she says. "I've been in a few scraps myself," she says, "Might have to see if you're bullshitting me on any of these claims someday." She offers a wink, looking out of the car window.

Roland Livingston has posed:
"I guessed right!" Roland exclaims with a chuckle. "No. No stalking. I've been teaching kids all week, helping them learn some magical history." Then he grins, "Any time you'd like to see what I can do, all you need to do is ask." The car pulls to a stop in front of an alley. It's not a shady alley, however, but a nice one with a few dining tables set out in it complete with patrons enjoying food and drinks. "We can eat here afterwards, if you'd like. Casual fare, but quite good. And they mix their drinks strong." He gestures past the comfortable stuff to a set of double doors that have been painted blue. "That's our destination." A small group of people come out, chatting loudly and happily. There's laughter mixed in with their words. They're all dressed in clothes that look as though they provide a lot of mobility. Good gym clothes.

June Connor has posed:
    June gets out of the car, "Yeah? We'll see what you can do," she agrees as she appraises the dining area. "Okay," she says with that lopsided grin. "Seen this place, but never actually ate here," she confesses. She walks toward the entrance that he indicates, her hands in her pockets. On her hip she carries a fanny pack. Who carries those these days? Probably in place of a purse.

Roland Livingston has posed:
When they get to the doors Roland pulls one open and steps inside to hold it for June. The inside of the establishment is pretty well lit and clean. There's thick pads on almost all of the surfaces. Above them are numerous platforms to jump from, bars to swing from and a bunch of what are either obstacles or unfortunately placed and shaped springboards to get to one of the other spots. It's a parkour gym, and from the looks of it a fairly nice one. Roland waves to the desk and heads towards it to touch his phone against one of the machines. Then he taps it again to pay for June, "What do you think? Adventurous and fun?"

June Connor has posed:
    "Wow, is this place just to do stunts?" June asks. "I didn't even know this kind of thing existed." She trained on something far less...safe. She looks at the waiver on the screen, and looks around as if someone might see her that she doesn't want to. She punches her name in, a number not matching the one Roland's ben using, and then...an address. One that if checked turns out to be an old tire shop that burned down last year. She signs with a single line swipe with her left hand, and hits the accept button. Her stance seemed more guarded while she filled out the form, more sober. "Yeah," she says, a late answer to the question. "Looks like a blast, not sure how much of this stuff I'll be able to do," she grins. "It looks pretty complicated."

Roland Livingston has posed:
"Yeah, you run and jump and try to maneuver around the whole of the gym without touching the ground," Roland says with a smile as he leads the way towards the gym proper. "It's not easy, but it's fun. I do it sometimes outside of the gym, the free running thing, that is. I haven't fallen off of a building yet."

People are jumping and swinging and climbing and hopping. It looks like they're having a good time, having to concentrate hard on what they're doing. Roland turns to June and asks, "You ever do any gymnastics or anything? You've got a great physique." There are some faux rocks all along the inside of a little tunnel that leads to a ladder. It's a little like in a rock climbing gym, only the rocks don't go up as high before they end up on the ceiling of the tunnel. There's a little kid in there now, swinging from rock to rock like a gibbon. Roland soon does the same, jumping into the air and grabbing a pair of the fake rocks. He does the better part of a pullup before swinging his body forward to grab a rock at the length of his arm. "I like warming up a little in here before I tackle the rest of the place."

June Connor has posed:
    "Well that makes one of us," June declares. Wait, she's fallen off a building? She unbuttons her jacket, and puts it on top of the lockers. It's not the kind of coat likely to be stolen, and she keeps the fanny pack on. Under the coat is a tank that is cut deep enough that there's almost no purpose to it, fully revealing the black sports bra underneath and exposing all the way til you can see the jeans where they meet her hip. The Strokes are featured on the front of it. Her left shoulder bears a red handprint tattoo on it, and peeking out the back of her shirt, and revealed again on her side is a winding dragon tattoo. She follows Roland to the rocks, and reaches up to grab one, then another, slipping off. She's very thin, but it's clear that indeed, those muscles are well toned. She's strong, not a fragile girl. "Kinda tricky, ain't it?" she laughs, her third time grabbing hold of the rock successfully.

Roland Livingston has posed:
"The colloquialism for what happened to me the first time I tried to swing from one rock to the other is, I believe, known as eating shit. I landed flat on my back," Roland says with a chuckle as he watches June move. He might be checking her out, but he's also admiring the musculature. "Takes a lot of grip strength and these things don't have a ton of texture to them." Some more swinging around. The little kid zooms from one rock to the other. In a decade he might be putting Roland to shame.

"So you've fallen off of a building? I've been thrown through a wall once. And clawed a few times. Remind me to show you the scars later on."

June Connor has posed:
    June laughs, "Uh, yeah I have, actually," she says. She moves to the next, and the next. While she seems on the surface to have trouble, someone experienced might recognize that...she can probably do more than she's letting on. As for that toned body? Well, it has more than a few scars of its own. punctures that look like stabs, old cuts that have healed. They aren't prominent, but they exist. She's definitely been in a few fights. "Got thrown off an apartment building by an asshole. I caught the fire escape over the edge," she answers. "Bet most of your dates don't have a story like that," she laughs.

Roland Livingston has posed:
"Are you trying not to show me up?" Roland asks as he studies June's movements. "You're better than you're letting on, I think. You've got nothing to be scared of." He grins at her laughter as he swings around slowly, letting his weight hang onto one hand at a time before moving himself forward. "You're right. Most of my dates are dreadfully dull, if I'm being honest. I enjoy your company." His head tilts to the side as he drops from the hand holds, landing gracefully on the padded floor.

June Connor has posed:
    "All those rich girls with all the money and fancy clothes?" June laughs. "I learned most guys don't want a girl to show them up. Hurts yer egos too much," she does reveal that she is holding back again as she makes her way to the next few a little more effortlessly across the stones and around the kid monkey, and brings her foot up to brace on the side of the tunnel.

Roland Livingston has posed:
"Much better," Roland tells June. "Rich girls think guys don't like being shown up, too, but they're wrong. At least in my case. If I stay interested in a woman it'll be because she's competent and resilient." The Englishman puts a foot on one of the lower rocks and pushes off of it, propelling his body to the opposite side of the tunnel, where he grabs some of the rocks before speaking again, "Everyone in my family was ultra competent. As researchers, linguists, warriors, you name it they each possessed impressive levels of skill in their chosen disciplines. My sister was one of the few people in the family who could take me in a straight fight. Not all the time, mind you, but enough that I never worried about her going on a mission by herself. She was a better archer than me, however."

June Connor has posed:
    "So like..." June makes her way to the other side of the tunnel and hooks her hands around the edge. She inverts, pulling herself to the top of it using more acrobatic momentum than strength for the maneuver. She hangs belly first over the edge, her fire-engine red hair dangling below her. "All you guys are monster hunters and shit? The ultimate 'don't fuck with us' family, huh? That's not intimidating at all." The sarcasm is pretty thick. "What would they say about you hangin' out with a ghetto girl?" she asks.

Roland Livingston has posed:
"Very good," Roland says to June with a grin before he follows her, attempting the same maneuver she did. He's got to muscle his way through it a bit, however. It still looks pretty impressive. "We were globe trotting, monster hunting, magic relic collecting, arcane scholars. Very secretive, too." As he ends up atop the tunnel he stands up on it and looks for a higher platform. There's one on the wall next to him above where a normal human athlete would be able to high jump. Taking a bit of a running start Roland propels himself at the wall and scrambles a bit to get just high enough to grab onto the platform with one hand. The other soon joins it and he pulls himself the rest of the way up. "I think they'd like you, June. If you're as good at other things as you are at gymnastics I might have to take you out on an excursion some time. Do you have a passport?"

June Connor has posed:
    June bursts out a mean laugh, "Fuck no I don't have a passport, are you kidding me?" she asks. "I don't even have a fuckin' driver's license." Her natural foul mouth seems to be slipping out a little. "Just cuz I can do a little rock climbin' don't mean I can fight monsters. I got a couple other skills," she says, "But fightin dragons and wizards I'll leave to Harry Potter."

    She follows, sprinting at the all and kipping straight up when she reaches it, like a webslinging hero might, and then turns thos new shoes parallel, launching herself from the side of her foot to catch the platform. A certain practiced nature shows in it. That's not the kind of move you just teach yourself. Somebody's taught her something. She doesn't seem to be the highest level of prowess that's ever been seen by any stretch. But she's capable at least.

Roland Livingston has posed:
"It's not always monster fighting, usually it's digging through old ruins like a less destructive Indiana Jones," Roland chuckles as he watches June do her thing, nodding his head at her as she performs her acrobatic maneuvers. "Nice work." Then he says, "You've been doing this for a while, it looks like." He looks around from his vantage point before deciding which way to go and how to get there. On one side is a gap between platforms longer than anyone but an Olympic long jump athlete can make with a couple of bars above the gap to swing from. Roland seems to take this as a personal challenge, moving back a few feet from the edge to get a running start. As the gap ends he continues running along the wall for a few more feet before leaping off to land on the far platform, hitting it and rolling forward to his feet.

June Connor has posed:
    "Yeah, being able to climb a wall can save your ass in Hell's Kitchen," June comments. She watches as Roland makes his wall run, and shakes her head with a 'here it goes' attitude. She runs, but doesn't have nearly the stride that he does, and after a few steps she makes a desperate wall jump toward the platform, landing belly first across the edge, planting her open palms as her feet dangle over the edge. "Shit!" she laughs, clinging to the edge of the platform and attempting not to fall.

Roland Livingston has posed:
"I imagine so," Roland comments as June tries the wall jump. As she hangs over the edge he kneels down near her and extends a hand for her to grab. "Want some assistance?" He leans over to look down at the padding below her as if to reassure himself that nobody'll get hurt taking a spill from up here. There's a big smile on his face, "You got some serious moves. Making everything but that wall jump look easy."

June Connor has posed:
    June looks at the hand offered, and doesn't take it. She humps herself up to her hips, and swings a leg over the edge of the ledge instead. "Yeah, well, I got short legs," she says. "You can really move, yourself," she says with a slight pant before rolling up to her rear and standing up. She also has jeans on instead of something a little more fluid, but it seems that such is what she's accustomed to working with.

Roland Livingston has posed:
"Thanks, tons of gymnastics training," Roland replies with a smile, lifting an arm to flex as he winks and rises to his feet. "Plus, I do this on rooftops sometimes. Helps me stay in shape. Met a samurai turtle and the Shadow breaking up a mugging one day doing it. I imagine I could have handled the little crew myself, but it was certainly fun getting to see more superheroes in action." The next stretch of platform has some obstacles on it to slow down the runner before they reach a couple of poles that stick straight up out of the floor.

June Connor has posed:
    "A samurai turtle?" June echoes. "Only in New York." She takes the lead this time, and leaps onto the next platform toe first. Her smaller size may be more of an advantage here as she vaults up to the top of the obstacles, her light weight bopping across the obstacles and landing to catch the two poles at the end, her legs spread between them to hold her weight as she looks over her shoulder back at Roland. "Superheroes are kind of assholes," she says bluntly. "Most of them are just as crooked as the people they fight." She's certainly not shy about her opinion of masked crusaders.

Roland Livingston has posed:
"I quite like the few superheroes I've met," says Roland with a shrug. "I think of them as a cross between vigilantes and entertainers for the most part, or like figures trying to weave themselves into a sort of new mythology." He chuckles, "The way they ignore stupid laws themselves but bust people for doing the same thing is quite hypocritical."

June Connor has posed:
    June looks a little grumpy for a moment. It seems it's not a topic that she likes to discuss. She'll take the acceptance of their acts as hypocritical, and she lets it drop. She releases the left pole, and slings herself around to face Roland's direction before sliding down and moving to the side to give him room to cross.

Roland Livingston has posed:
Roland runs towards the obstacles and plants his hand flat on the first one to leverage himself over. The second he slides under and the third he goes high once more. Having crossed them he jumps to the poles, grabbing them and suspending himself between them using his hands and feet to provide stability. Then he looks down at June, shifts his body to the opposite pole and slides down to join her.

June Connor has posed:
    June shifts to stand between the poles, well within the personal bubble as Roland slides down, looking up at his much taller form. "So, you hungry yet?" she asks with a slight tilt of the head. "I think I got my appetite ready."

Roland Livingston has posed:
"I'm ready," Roland replies, looking down at his date with a smile on his face. "Good place to work up a bit of an appetite, right?" he asks before offering June his arm should she wish to take it. "Lets grab your jacket and we'll go to the little place in the alley. I think I might go for a steak. They're supposed to know how to prepare them there."

June Connor has posed:
    June takes the offered arm. "I could definitely go for some steak," she says. "I do like meat. I'm sure if it meets your refined standards they have nothing to worry about in making me happy."

Roland Livingston has posed:
"Very good," Roland replies with a smile as he heads to first grab the jacket, then head out through the double door. The host stand for the little restaurant is inside, but the pair is quickly seated in the nice alley at a table with an umbrella over it. Roland allows June to take her seat first, ready to pull the chair out for her when she decides where to sit, "After you." He looks around once more before his attention returns to June, "I'm thinking quantity for my meal today. A big ribeye should do. With a side of broccoli, some of the crusty bread they do here and a nice salad."

June Connor has posed:
    June looks...a little out of place. She glances at the table, the dress of the waiters, and her garb compared to most of the others here. It helps that Roland is similarly dressed. She sits in the chair. "Very deboneer," she pronounces the word oddly. She grabs the menu, looking at the pictures presented more than reading the listings. "Ribeye, huh?" she says. "I don't got that much space in me," she grins. "But that filet mig-non does sound pretty good." Yep, she said t, and the g.

Roland Livingston has posed:
"Filets are often my favorite cuts, but I'm quite hungry at the moment," Roland says. When the waiter arrives he starts off by ordering a bottle of red wine, perhaps surprisingly it's not the priciest one on the menu. Then he looks at the lady sitting across from him, "Any of the appetizers strike you as appetizing?" The waiter is given polite nods at various points as well as pleases and thank yous. Despite being something of a gentleman Roland doesn't order for his date, allowing her to do her thing without getting in the way.

June Connor has posed:
    "I dunno," June says incredulously, as if it's some ridiculous question to ask her. "Youse got onion rings?" she asks the waiter. Probably not that kind of place, but she could have checked the menu. She flips it over, looking for the appetizer section.

Roland Livingston has posed:
"We have a delightful French onion soup, or perhaps some parmesan fried zucchini?" The waiter suggests helpfully.

Roland looks at June's menu and says, "Top left bit." He glances at the waiter next and says, "I'd like the mussels, please." Giving June a little more time to decide by ordering something. Plus, mussels are usually tasty at cute little corner bistro places.

June Connor has posed:
    June's never had mussels, and the wrinkle in her nose says she probably isn't going to make her debut into that tonight. She nods, "Uh, yeah the zucchini sounds good," she hands the menu back. and scratches the side of her nose. "Mussels are like clams, right?" she says, "Or Oysters, or whatever?"

Roland Livingston has posed:
The waiter nods his head and says, "Very good. I'll be right back with some bread and your wine."

"Yes, they're like a longer clam," Roland explains. "They're often served in a sort of mix of white wine sauce and butter. Even if you don't normally eat seafood I recommend dipping the bread in the sauce, that's one of my favorite parts." He leans to one side, making good use of the arm rest and smiling at June, "Were you part of a parkour or free running crew at one time? Some of your moves really surprised me. I'll have to take some lessons from you."

June Connor has posed:
    "Take lessons from me?" June repeats. "You don't want lessons where I learned'm." She shakes her head with a smirk, as if there's a joke only she knows. "Gotta keep that one a to myself for now," she informs. "It wan't for fun that I learned that stuff. More to make sure I didn' die. Glad I did though, or I'd be way dead by now. Shit's saved my life more than a couple times."

Roland Livingston has posed:
"I wasn't suggesting learning the same way you did, as getting tossed off roofs and whatnot sounds like something I should try to avoid," Roland replies with a smile. "I, for one, am glad you're alive. I enjoy your company, after all." Then he nods at her, "I bet you've got some good stories. If you ever care to share I'd be interested to hear them." A smirk appears, "I've got a few of my own, as well. Just don't know if I'll bore you with them."

June Connor has posed:
    "Yeah? You seem to like tootin you horn plenty," June says with a slight mock, leaning the chair back on two legs and rocking it back and forth a little. "My stories aren't very good dinner conversation. Yours might be cool dungeon diving monster slayin' stuff. Mine more often have a pretty shitty outcome," she gives a fake wince with the end of the statement, plopping the chair back to all fours.

Roland Livingston has posed:
The wine and bread arrive, the waiter pouring a glass for both diners before Roland thanks him and he departs. Then young Englishman takes a drink from his glass and nods approvingly before setting it back down. With a grin on his face he says, "I'm not particularly shy, am I? It's just that the sound of my voice is so soothing and melodious, why would I not want to listen to it?" Still smiling he goes on, "I did recently survive a plane crash in the Amazon. Crashed in drug dealer territory, had to evade them with the pilot who was wounded in the landing. Poor bastard was pretty busted up and I didn't have time to grab most of my gear before we were getting shot at so I ran into the rain forest with him. Lived off the land for some time while I got us back to civilization. It's almost harder to survive in the jungle than it is to survive in many deserts, sometimes. Too easy for a wound to get infected and the like."

June Connor has posed:
    "Mmmhmm," June answers leaning forward, her hands on her knees so that her head is a bit close to the table. She has a bit of a pursed smile with her lips, one of those of mild amusement. "Yes, and you saved both of your lives by making a helicopter out of banana leaves and bamboo, powered by howler monkeys," she finishes the story, taking the wine in one hand and drinking it without any sense of refinement.

Roland Livingston has posed:
"If only. We had to walk. And walk. And walk." Roland says with a smile. "Then we had to run sometimes when the narcoterrorists caught up with us. Had to go through the heaviest part of the jungle to avoid them for the most part, which is slow going, even with a machete." He drinks some more wine before speaking again, "Still, the rain forest can be quite beautiful. And the animals are very intriguing to look at."

June Connor has posed:
    Is she already done with her wine? So much for savoring. As Roland tells the story, June packs the entire glass away like a barbarian. "I bet," she says. "Sounds like shit, though. Bugs and gorilla shit and all sorts of things with big teeth that want to eat you." She shakes her head. "Sounds like a lot of fun." Translation, not a lot of fun, but then, June's grown up in a concrete jungle, and it seems likely she's rarely if ever been outside of the city.

Roland Livingston has posed:
When he sees how fast June drinks her wine Roland grins and pours her another glass. "I enjoy all sorts of wilderness. I've been to Siberia before, some of which is just like a wasteland of snow. Brutally cold. The most fun I have is in temperate climates, however. New York's got a very good survival instructor I trained with once a couple of years ago. I still base my go bag packing list off his recommendations." He leans on his arm rest, "What's really fun to is hunt, though. If you've never been I'll have to take you some time, if you'd like. We could see about a pheasant hunt or something similar where you have to move around as opposed to sitting in a blind or a stand."

June Connor has posed:
    June doesn't drink the second quite so immediately, but her eyes shift appraisingly to the refill. "I'm kind of garbage with a gun. I know that probably is a surprise given..." she gestures to herself, implying the fact that she definitely runs in rough crowds. "Can throw knives pretty well, though," she comments. "Probably not the best for hunting, though. Sitting out in an icy wasteland doesn't sound any more fun than a rainforest, to be honest. I probably sound like no fun at all," she laughs. "Stupid city girl."

Roland Livingston has posed:
"I've only been shooting guns for a short time, compared to everything else, but I can afford the best training money can buy," Roland says. "If you'd like I can arrange for you to join me." He pauses, "You can throw knives? That's a difficult skill to master. Have you ever shot a bow or thrown spears? They're more appropriate for hunting." Then he laughs, "The city has many benefits. New York, in particular. Anything you want any time of day, pretty much."

June Connor has posed:
    June shrugs, "Yeah I guess," she says. "Though when you live here all your life, it all just kinda runs together. Just backdrop. If it's not free, I'm probably not doin' it. I don't got cash to burn on that stuff. I ain't a richpants like you," she says, fingertip on the edge of her wineglass. She tilts it a little, swirling the wine around inside mildly.

Roland Livingston has posed:
The waiter starts bringing out the appetizers and salads and gets a thanks from Roland before the Englishman begins to dig in. He is not shy about putting food away. "Is there anything here in town you've wanted to do but haven't been able to due to finances? Or anything you've always wanted but aren't able to buy for yourself?" He finishes off his wine and pours another glass for himself.

June Connor has posed:
    "Uh," June laughs, "I dunno, we all dream of winning the lottery, right?" June says, grabbing a piece of the fried zucchini and popping it in her mouth. She talks with her mouth full. "Well, I guess not all of us," she says with a short shrug of her pierced eyebrow. "Like, I dunno. Don't need you just goin' and buyin' shit, I wouldn't have anywhere to put it," she comments. "I always found it just depressing to think about the stuff I can't do cuz I'm broke, so usually I'll just hang around and do dumb shit to get in trouble. You should see my misdemeanor sheet at the po po. Mile long I'm sure."

Roland Livingston has posed:
"I just steal priceless artifacts when I get low on cash. You know how that works," Roland jokes before popping more food into his mouth. "I tend to express my fondness for people by giving them my time more than giving them stuff. I like giving gifts, of course, but I think it's more meaningful to devote the time to know someone." There's a shrug, "But I've never really wanted for anything so who knows how skewed my perspective is." Then he laughs, "I've been in cuffs a few times, too, but my lawyers and police contacts make sure nothing sticks. As long as you're not collecting felonies I don't think it matters all that much, though I could be wrong."

June Connor has posed:
    June looks down at the wine, a certain...non-response coming regarding the comment. Maybe it's the felony part, maybe it's the lawyers that make nothing stick part. "Anyway," she says as she looks back up, as if to change the subject. "You like music? Listen to a bunch of that orchestra stuff? Or what?"

Roland Livingston has posed:
"I listen to all sorts of music, actually," says Roland, not seeming to notice the change in conversation topics. "Mostly I listen to metal, though I'm quite the fan of Richard Wagner as well. The Ring Saga makes for some of my favorite listening, especially when I'm working out." A smile appears, "How about you? Do you have a particular band or genre you're a fan of?"

June Connor has posed:
    "Probably a bit of a cliche, but I do like some good rock. She grabs her jacket, holding it open to flash The Strokes logo again on her shirt. "Strokes, Killers, Fratellis, shit like that," she says. "Wouldn't have pegged you for a metal guy," she says with a wry smile. "Guess you do have some surprises."

Roland Livingston has posed:
"Hell yes, you've got excellent taste in music," Roland grins at June when he she lists off the bands she's a fan of. "I've been into metal since I was a little kid. Older cousins got me into music. The UK's got a rich rock heritage, as you know, so I'd get to check out concerts once in a while, too." He pauses, then says, "I tell you what, if you can find a show you want to go to let me know and we'll go check it out."

June Connor has posed:
    June perks up a bit. "Actually that would be pretty cool. I'm sure somebody's probably showin' up in the apple sometime soon," she says. She puts her chin on her hand. "Now I'm trying to picture you in a mosh pit. I just...I just can't."

Roland Livingston has posed:
"Oh, I love the pit," Roland says to June with a big grin. "You may not believe this, but I do in fact own jeans and combat boots for just such occasions." Then he says, "I'll leave finding the next show up to you, though. I'll handle everything else, including transportation if you'd like to see someone in Atlanta or Metropolis or Gotham or wherever."

June Connor has posed:
    June looks up as the waiter arrives with the main courses, and then back to Roland. "It's just..." she laughs, at the mental image. "I'm picturing you, all proper British gentleman, screamin' at somebody in the pit "Come at me fucker!" she points at you as if she was calling you out in a fight, "and slammin' your heads against each other." She shakes her head looking down, and grabs her fork. "Youse all so...British."

Roland Livingston has posed:
With a big grin, Roland laughs along with June, "Just wait and see. I'll show you how things are done back in England. If I'm not bruised and bloodied, at least somewhat, then I feel like I've done something wrong." He starts digging into his food, making an 'mm' sound as he tastes the steak. After giving himself a chance to chew and swallow he says to June, "I am quite British, however. Don't try to hide it, even if I could. I'm not much for acting or keeping things hidden."

June Connor has posed:
    "Yeah, yeah," June says, taking a bite out of her steak. "Hory shit," she says without waiting to finish chewing. Yeah, it's a little visible. No manners at all. "Thish ish good." Unlike many who might stop to savor the excellent meal, she instead seems to be more eager to stuff it in her mouth, chewing happily away on her food.

Roland Livingston has posed:
As he watches June eat Roland grins, pleased to see his date enjoying herself. He feeds himself a bite of his own steak and nods, "This place is definitely worth our time. The steak is cooked perfectly and seasoned very well." Some more wine is consumed to wash down the meat. "Have you ever had English food? Fish and chips? Or cottage pie? I belong to a club that's got quite a nice English kitchen that we should go to some time you're feeling like cuisine from my old home."

June Connor has posed:
    "June quirks an eyebrow. "I always kinda figured Fish to be somethin' youd' have with like, I dunno, oyster crackers or somethin," she says. "Or maybe hushpuppies. Hushpuppies are the shit. And I like pie, but I guess who doesn't? Never heard of a cottage pie. Sounds like one of those things you get in um, those little houses that look like thei' from a-" she waves her fork around, as if that would magically make a word appear. "Uh...like a Christmas village or somethin'."

Roland Livingston has posed:
"Fish and chips is fish served with potatoes that are prepared more like french fries than what Americans call chips," Roland explains between bites. "It's a staple over there. And cottage pie is a meat pie with mashed potatoes and ground beef and cheese and such. Very tasty and hard to go wrong with." A little laugh escapes him, "May I ask about your tattoos? Do they have special meaning to you?"

June Connor has posed:
    June takes another bite of her steak in response, chewing this time before she answers. "Oh, yeah that's like a shepherd's pie here," she says. "They pretty good," She glances at herself, though the tattoos are all hidden by her coat at the moment. "I mean, some of them," she says. Dragon tattoo was..." she seems to weigh a second what she's going to say, "Peer pressure. Kinda the shit that has plagued me my whole life. Like stranglin' the shit out of me a little at a time, eatin' me. Nice and dark, huh?" She takes another bite. "Tryin' to remember which ones you could've seen," she says, looking indistinctly at the sky in thought. Apparently some might still be unseen.

Roland Livingston has posed:
"Dragon one was peer pressure? It's quite good," Roland comments seriously. "Even if it comes with some unfortunate history. I like the look of tattoos, though I've yet to get any. Going to wait until I'm a bit older before I start getting inked. Maybe get some protection runes inscribed on me if I can find the right ones. Help keep out intrusions and attackers." His chin lifts, "How about the hand? That one's pretty unique."

June Connor has posed:
    The general good mood seems to come to a screeching halt for a moment when the hand is mentioned. She takes another two bites before she decides on an answer. "Protection rune," she finally answers. Not perhaps like any rune in a magic book that Roland has seen. "Or curse. Or both."

Roland Livingston has posed:
Roland considers June for some time before he speaks again, "I can help with curses, you know. Both the literal and figurative kinds." He works at his meal a little bit more, "If you need assistance, that is. I don't want to presume too much." He kills his wine and gets to work on some water. Rather than keep things on that topic he asks, "You have any that you're particularly proud of?"

June Connor has posed:
    "You probably wanna get to know me before promising that. You really don't know what you're offering," she warns with a haphazard point of her steak knife before cutting off another piece. "But I dunno, I just kinda get them when I hit the mood I guess. Don't think I'm really proud of them, just...kinda get them. Can't believe you don't have any tattoos. That's kinda weird, y'know. I mean, maybe not for proper british guy like you. But I don't think I know any guys who don't have at least one tattoo."

Roland Livingston has posed:
"I do intend to get to know you better, June. If you ever want to talk about it I'll be there to listen," Roland says rather softly. "That's as good a reason as any to get a tattoo. I'm inclined towards overthinking things like that for myself. If I ever have to dress up I'll end up trying on a number of outfits or suits before I settle on something. Getting something permanently etched into me would require a great deal of thought and research."

June Connor has posed:
    June laughs again, "Fuck. I don't think anything through," she confesses. "Probably explains a lot, huh?" she says. She takes the last bite of her steak, and lets the knife and fork clatter carelessly onto the plate in front of her. "That's some good shit there," she compliments her meal again. "Thanks."

Roland Livingston has posed:
"I may overthink things sometimes. I mean, even my tactical gear is all brand name stuff," Roland chuckles. "Not Gucci, but tactical brands like Crye and such. They make my camouflage and body armor and such. A company called MTEK makes my helmet. The guns and whatnot are all made by high end companies and my blades are crafted by hand." There's some more laughter.

"Glad you enjoyed it," Roland says as he polishes off the last of his steak and sets his silverware down. "Thanks for going out with me. You're one hell of a woman. Interesting, capable, good looking. I'm quite glad we met." His smile has not faded. "I'd like to get you out to the country a bit, if you're okay with it. Not right now, but some time soon. There's a horse ranch in West Chester I pay to ride at. They also let me practice my archery and weapon throwing there so long as I agree to use them on any predatory animals that show up while I'm there."

June Connor has posed:
    June arches her brow. "So you all done for the night?" she asks, reaching out to pick her wine glass up by the lip and turn it around to drink from it. She doesn't make any comment on the horse ranch, but just arches her brow.

Roland Livingston has posed:
"All done?" Roland asks with a smile. "I thought perhaps we could do a little shopping and then head out to a club, if you'd like. We can fly to Gotham if you want to see the Iceberg Lounge. Or we could check out some of the places in town." He starts to lean across the table towards June, "Or we could retire to my place. I'll order dessert and we can have some drinks. Or coffee or tea."

June Connor has posed:
    "Retire, huh?" she says. "Is that your gentleman talk for it?" she asks as she looks through the glass at him. She downs the rest of her wine from the glass, still holding it in that awkward manner, and then plops the glass back on the table.

Roland Livingston has posed:
"I can speak in innuendo when the mood strike," the young Englishman says with a broad grin. "Let me text my driver." He produces his phone to do so and then states, "He'll be here in fifteen." Then he pulls out his wallet and one of the cards in it to pay for the meal. He doesn't look at the check when it's brought over, just hands off his card and thanks the server.