9544/Noonan's Snooze-nans

Noonan's Snooze-nans
Date of Scene:	09 January 2022
Location:	Noonan's Sleazy Bar
Synopsis:	An exhausted Clarice, Victor, Lorna, and Paris enjoy drinks in a bar. Topics range from reading, to murder, to raunchy humor.
Cast of Characters:	Victor Creed, Clarice Ferguson, Lorna Dane, Paris Bennet

---

Victor Creed has posed:
Victor is sporting a long brown trench coat with a tattered hem with a few blood stains, combat boots, black canvas pants, and a dark red muscle shirt. His blonde hair is slicked back against his scalp.

Sitting in the smoky room in the low ambient light, he might not be immediately recognizable. Sadistically, that was exactly his plan when he picked the place. The best thing he could hope for to go with his cold pint is a fight, and Noonan's is the kind of place where he can get away with a little gratuitous violence.

However, he has another concern on his mind. "Eh, you wanna switch to coffee, kid? You look dead on your feet."

He leans forward, tilting his head to eye Clarice. "Don't pass out on me. I can sleep in the alley, but it doesn't mean I want to."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "Hmm?" Clarice asks - looking up from the glass of brandy she'd been sipping. She has to blink a few times before his words really sink in. She'd spent the day ferrying more refugees to camps around America - and the world. She'd brought in more supplies for the fight against the angels. She'd run herself raggid, making sure that humanity had everything it needed to survive this fight - and even with her rather formidable stamina, it was too much.
    "Oh," she remarks. "...you might be right, Mister Creed," she admits with a wry smile smile, lifting her hand to call the attention of a bartender. "Can I get a coffee? Two sugars and two creamers," she adds. She likes her drink sweet - what can she say?

Lorna Dane has posed:
Lorna Dane was not in her usual crisp suits, or the occasional heroic outfit she would wear if only because this was a day of doing hard work. Boots, jeans, and a woolen peacoat to help chase off the chill of Winter are worn. The length of her green hair is caught up in a tight ponytail to keep out of her face. Surprisingly, she finds she gets less looks from people recognizing hre here in Gotham. A bonus at least given she was in such a sleazy bar.

A finger is drawn along one of the tables testing just how dirty it was. It doesn't get far--the sticky remnants of drinks and deep scars on the wood made it less than smooth. A small sigh escapes her, but she leans further back in the chair she had claimed while stretching her legs out beneath it. "Eh, who am I kidding, I've never been all that fancy. Still this is a bit..." Her gaze sweeps around taking in the room. "Are we sure this is a safe place to rest awhile?" Her gaze slides to Clarice with clear concern for her more-than-tired friend. It's only after a moment that she realizes everyone she's here with. "...Nevermind. We should probably get some food in you as well, Clarice. You've been busting your ass all day." This is offered as she reaches for her own drink. Just a beer.

Victor Creed has posed:
Victor frowns at Clarice and draws on the table top with his claw, a sliver of finish curling up from the surface. "Eh, wish this problem in New York was the kinda one I could just murder my way through for ya kid. Figure I'll be fightin' on hell's side anyway once I manage to die. So, no sweat chewing the heads off a few... so-called Angels."

He blinks at Lorna as she considers the safety of the joint. His mouth parts to show his fangs before he barks a laugh. "Eh, I hope its not. What I need right now is a real piece of work. Someone deservin' a good shreddin'. A real screamer. You can usually find 'em around here. Assumin' that Batguy hasn't stashed them away in Arkham."

Pondering, he sips from his pint glass. "Don't lick the bartop, and you'll be fine, Lorna."

Paris Bennet has posed:
The lights of the establishment flicker briefly as a bright light flashes outside of the window. Lorna will likely recognize the electromagnetic signature of a teleportation, which explains the power surge.

Then, in walks Exodus through the front door.

He'd arrived earlier with the others, but separated to check out a couple of nearby bookstores. Because he's a dusty old freak. What better way to beat the crowds than rockin' what you got though, eh?

Exodus is dressed up for this neck of town because of pride, he can't stand the thought of what most call slummin' it, and so he's dressed only moderately less impressively than when he visited the Hellfire Club on a couple of occasions. He already knows what he wants from here at least.

Bennet calls over to the keep,"Your best stout, good sir."

Which altogher is no doubt drawing odd looks, on the whole of things...

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Clarice blinks at Lorna for a moment - then lets out a snort of amusement at the woman's question. "You guys could take out any threat before I even woke up from my nap," she counters with a grin, before turning her attention back onto Victor.
    "I mean, if you want to go tear the wings off some angels, you could always pop into Manhattan with me tomorrow. I'm sure you could find a few, and I sure won't shed any tears for them."
    She finishes off her brandy, pushing the cup aside, and leaning back into her seat. "I'm fine, though. Nothing a solid night's sleep won't fix. ...does this place serve anything worth eating, though?" She muses in a thoughtful, but doubtful tone.
    Paris's return is greeted with a simple nod that doesn't seem to interrupt her thoughts. "Maybe they could heat up a frozen pizza or something." No way to screw that up.

Lorna Dane has posed:
Lorna Dane clears her throat slightly in response to Victor's laugh over her mistaken thought. Of course, she wasn't usually around him outside of the occasional mission or on the asteroid, but it was perhaps one of the first times she simply forgot he was a cold blooded killer. Her own tiredness and the drink was likely to cause for it, but perhaps it was a good thing if only for Clarice's sake. A faint smile is flashed back in response. "Slipped my mind. Though to be honest I think I'm beginning to understand the urge to punch a few people. I can't recall the last time I got into a fight..." she begins only to scoff, "I don't LICK things," while raising her beer for a drink.

A nod is given to Clarice acknowledging the current issue at hand. "I would join in, but I know how you worry. We can likely order takeout if nothing is here. Surely there's something nearby. Though they may not deliver here," she has to admit while lifting her beer for another drink. It was slowly getting emptied. Instead of a drink though, the glass in her hand sloshes when she suddenly tenses with sharp arch in her back followed by a shiver. Her face contorts with a look of annoyance that was more due to the beer she'd splashed on herself earning a quiet curse, and a few quick swipes of her hand to try and shake off the droplets. "Sir Paris your timing is impeccable."

Victor Creed has posed:
"Never really had to worried about what I ate... I forget food poisonin' is a thing." Victor admits and then hums, "Yea, kid. Let me run escort for you. But point was... wish I could make less work for you. And despite my talent at murder, I ain't killin' my way through this problem all by my lonesome."

He rises from the table, taking the one stride necessary to get closer to the bartender. "I need a pizza."

Pizza isn't on the official menu, but when Victor Creed bats his eyelashes, people scream and do what he wants, if they know what is good for them. The bartender mutters in annoyance, "Yea, I'll order you a fuckin' pizza. God damn maniac."

Victor grins and blows the bartender a kiss before sitting back down at the table.

"A good fight with the right target can be a very refreshin' thing, Lorna." Victor offers sagely and cradles his pint glass. "Hey, lickin' the right things can make you all kinds of friends."

His brow knits together as the monarch of Genosha's face contorts. "Uh, you okay there?" As Paris arrives, he offers the man an up-nod leans back to address the bartender, "He's on our tab."

Paris Bennet has posed:
The response of Victor at Bennet being on their tab probably gets funny looks until certain people are reminded who else is already at the table. Quite the eccentric collection of personalities there!

The big frenchman approaches with a cracking of knuckles as he expresses,"Did I hear talk of fights with certain people, or have mine ears deceived me?"

He slides a chair from a vacant table to join them before adding to Victor,"Most excellent of you, mon ami."

He folds his hands on the table before him,"I trust that I didn't keep you all waiting too long. Quite the catalogue."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "He could never convince me to lick things, either," Clarice remarks to Lorna with amusement. "But he keeps trying." She pays no attention to the way Creed orders her requested pizza, and instead focuses on sipping the coffee she'd requested, a smile playing across the corners of her lips.
    "Look, if there's going to be war and Manhattan, and all these people dying, and what not - I figure at least one of us should be having a little fun. When there's less people and equipment to move around - I'll join you, and we can de-wing whole platons of angels." Do they come in platons? They do now.
    "Paris," she greets the man simply, offering him a nod as he takes a seat.

Lorna Dane has posed:
Lorna Dane lifts a hand slightly in a quickly dismissive gesture when Creed questions her. "I'm fine. I've just found Bennet's powers are a bit like... An unexpected icecube down the back. I'm fine if I know to expect it." Otherwise it was a bit like jangly nerves, clearly, given her reaction. Clarice draws her attention away with a renewed grin. "Well, I don't MIND licking but I'm picky about what I do. Or whom. And this is not the time to talk about exes right now."

"Honestly the whole 'angel' thing is a bit hard to wrap my mind around. Not my religion, though I doubt they care one way or another. Beings of some sort. I'll stick with that otherwise I'll be drinking a lot heavier than I am now."

Victor Creed has posed:
Victor shrugs at Paris, "Least I could do for the lift to the Hellfire Club earlier."

Giving a fangful grin, he nods to Clarice. "Ahh.. Sounds like a good time, kid. Lookin' forward to it."

Creed bellows a laugh at Lorna's reply. "Ah there we go. You've got a proper filthy mind. Past the prude test with flyin' colors."

Resuming his artistic works upon the table surface with his claw, he hums deeply. A sound that rumbles within the depth of his broad chest. "Eh, way I see it. Bunch of invaders claimin' the Earth just like rest of the -Gods- stalkin' around. Wouldn't be surprised if a bunch of Space Vikings came ridin' down on chariots tomorrow, or Moon Amazons ridin' unicorns."

Paris Bennet has posed:
The big frenchman smiles modestly towards Lorna as he catches the explanation that he needed for the brief awkwardness at his entrance and squares his shoulders,"My apologies, Votre Altesse. I'll endeavor to do so further away in the future."

The old school warrior relaxes somewhat at this reply, brows knitting a bit in brief consternation before he clears his throat and glances to Clarice,"Angels. Yes. I heard something about that from a man claiming to be a warrior from a spacefaring race of birdmen. I found the presence of an admitted traitor intolerable so I confess having not heard him out."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Clarice lets out a put-upon sigh. "Rahne has a thing for licking too - why am I always outnumbered?" She complains in a quiet, but good natured voice. She's trying not to let herself sink back into her tired slump - if it was worrying the people that cared for her - well. She didn't want that. "And yeah. Tearing some angels to bits will be a blast, I'll look forward to it. We could make a whole day of it - bring Toad along, and Deadpool, and whoever else is interested in letting loose."
    She lets out a snort at the idea of amazons on unicorns, before she gives Paris a puzzled look. "Votre Altesse?" Her pronunciation is completely attrocious.
    "Well - the angels thing is no joke. Lydia's vouched for it. They apparently trying to unmake all of reality, so... You know. We gotta kill 'em." It's an over simplification, but she doesn't care.

Lorna Dane has posed:
Lorna Dane again lifts her hand in gesture to Bennet, though this time with a shake of her head at his apology. "It's nothing you do intentionally and barely an incovenience to me. I wouldn't think of asking you to do something which may make your job or life more difficult. Our abilities are simply ones which apparently have a bit of a shared element. It's simply a surprise."

As to being called a prude her eyebrows just raise a bit with a bemused smile tugging at her lips as she was, apparently, growing more comfortable around the man she had once been fairly terrified of. "Is that what people are claiming about me these days? Hardly. I was almost married once, you know. Though," she adds with her head tipping back to finish off the last gulp of her beer. "That was years ago and before I became Queen of anything." A smirk comes, and she adds, "Rahne is a wolf, after all. Though in your case I imagine that would be very helpful with your relationship."

"Another beer, please," she calls to the bartender. Her hand dips into the pocket of her peacoat to pull out a wad of cash which she raises overhead to wave indicating she definitely had the money to pay. "Here, this ought to be a lure for someone in this place," she adds quieter to the mutant looking to cause trouble.

Victor Creed has posed:
"Yea, as Wade would say... You can't unmake reality. All my stuff is there." Victor drains his pint glass and idly taps the side of it with one of his claws.

This combined with Lorna's call for another beer, brings someone around with another round for those asking.

"Married, huh? Now that I didn't know. As for claimin'... no fuckin' idea. Just thought I'd check. You are kinda... high and mighty." He shrugs then gazes toward Clarice.

Elbowing Blink in the side, he cackles. "Ahhh.. that sounds like a better time! How's the -lass- doin' anyway?"

He picks up his refreshed pint glass and leans back in his chair, gulping down a few mouthfuls. "I need to find a good licker. Found some lady at the Hellfire claiming to be a shrink. Legs for days. Not shy about givin' me the eye, either. Though even I step lightly around that place."

Shrugging again, he proposes a toast. "Angels... To Hell with 'em."

Paris Bennet has posed:
Paris' mood suddenly turns at a vibration at his hip. He removes therefrom a Frostphone, the latest modern inconvenience of which he is the sworn enemy. Clicking over it, he arches his brow and offers,"Intriguing. This infernal contraption has delivered a communique about a text concerning a stronghold of knights...in Malta. He is offering me a deal, but wishes to meet in person as the text is antique. First edition."

He glances conspiratorially to Victor and notes,"That's not too far from Cyprus."

Bennet is up to something, and not trying to hide the fact. He rises in time to receive the drink he ordered, downing it promptly before announcing,"I shall return in due course. I cannot miss an opportunity for lore on my descendents. As for angels, if they bleed we can kill them."

With that, he bows curtly to Lorna, then salutes the rest and departs...

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "Rahne is a wolf," Clarice agrees. "And honestly... Can't say I find the fur disagreeable." Her cheeks darken at this admission, before she takes another sip of her coffee. She watches Paris depart with an amused smile on her lips once more. "He's adjusting to technology well," she remarks.
    Tracing an idle design on the table top she answers Creed with, "Rahne's doing good. I mean, she's pretty busy, between school and Hope House, but we make the time. At least - we were, but I've been so tired this past week..." She lets out a heavy sigh. "It's fine though. I barely have enough time to miss her."
    Giving Creed a curious look she asks, "You've your eyes on a shrink?"

Lorna Dane has posed:
Lorna Dane lifts her glass in response to Bennet's bow along with a dip of her head. There was no point in arguing that he needn't bow, especially as he was already headed out. "Sounds exciting," she murmurs quietly. She'd peice together what he was up to at a later point. "Mm. Yes, married. Almost. He decided he fell in love with a telepath and ran off with her the day we were supposed to tie the knot. Not much else to say there." Her own beer now refilled she contemplates it a few moments considering whether or not she ought to drink more. What the heck. Except Clarice mentions something about fur, and NOW she nearly chokes on her drink as she hadn't expected such a remark from her friend.

"OH my go... Mm. I guess I asked for that." A little sigh comes before she just laughs along with it. "The Hellfire Club is an interesting place I should revisit some time. Nothing wrong with a shrink--I mean psychiatrst. Provided it's the right sort."

Victor Creed has posed:
Victor frowns, "Eh, you find a piece of happiness. Winged shits shouldn't be interfering with it. But what are you gonna do. Hope this blows over fast."

At her question, Victor takes a long drink. Its all for show though. There was zero chance the beer was nearly alcoholic enough to give him a buzz.

"You do a good job, kid. You and Mystique at makin' sure I've got good targets." He rolls the glass in his hands. "And it a lot of ways, I like what I am... but I can feel somethin' creeping up on me. Voices of dear ole' ma and pa. Good fight is the only thing that shuts them up. Its maddenin'."

The glass erupts abruptly, crushed in his hands. Glass shards sticking out of his flesh. He picks them out idly, not very concerned. "I need somethin' extra... or I'm gonna have to ship out somewhere wild, so I can work it out of my system. Shit. Half-tempted to get a telepath for the brain work."

Looking across the table to Lorna, he nods. "Hellfire has a lot of nice digs... and really good business opportunities. If you aren't afraid to deal under the table, you can really make things happen there."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Clarice can't help but snort at Lorna's reaction to her words - her broad lipped smile going even wider in response. "You did," she confirms.
    As Creed starts to talk about his darker urges, though, her expression goes more serious, and she offers a nod of her head. "I know," she confirms. "I mean - I get the same way, when things get me too stressed. I just... I need a release," she offers, giving a shrug of her shoulders. "And there's plenty in this world that we're better off without."
    She watches him pick the shards of glass out of his hands - a brief frown on her features. She knows he'll help up in moments - doesn't mean she likes seeing him do things like that.
    "I feel like I've been going longer and longer without feeling that need, though."

Lorna Dane has posed:
"I'll leave that sort of organization to you and Mystique," Lorna adds in regards to lining up angels to kill with a little frown as she starts to sit, and really think, of how she could help in this situation. Certainly not by organizing potential kills for people. Though she couldn't really argue the circumstances. The shattering glass breaks her out of her thoughts with a little curse of, "Oh for crying out loud."

Without thinking of it she thunks hre own pint glass down and reaches out to take hold of Creed's hand with a small scowl of concentration. "Hold still, you might miss a peice with those nails of yours. Or worse, cut it into a smaller peice. And parents can be assholes. Yes, I know who mine are, I've had three of them."

"So are you both going to take care of it tomorrow or should I wander around a few alleys looking poor and defenseless?"

Victor Creed has posed:
"Your head is screwed on a lot better then mine, kid." Victor states about Blink with the same confidence as someone saying the sky is blue.

Creed's flesh is already starting to knit and in some cases push the shards out of his skin. He seems amused when Lorna reaches over to assist. "Lorna, I could decide to just cut the whole damn thing off... and It'd be back before the pizza got here."

He allows the woman to help regardless, though its a race between her plucking glass and his skin deciding to save itself.

"But yea, just because I enjoy doin' something doesn't mean I ignore it creates problems... For you, the Brotherhood, and my own enterprises. I'd like stay a functional maniac." He chuckles lowly. "And its a lot better for my finances when I can stay level headed enough to charge for it."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "Well no shit," Clarice agrees with Creed - flashing him a grin. She takes another slow sip of her coffee, relaxing back into her seat, even as she watches Lorna help with the glass with a bemused expression. "He heals //real// fast. You should see him after he's been hit with machine gun fire. There's all these little 'tink, tink, tink' sounds as the bullets fall out and hit the cement."
    After another sip she adds, "Lorna, we go and do that - and whoever decides to rob, or assault you, is likely to be tortured to death slowly. That really something you want any part in?" She states that with an even sort of calm - as if the notion doesn't trouble her much.
    She expects it to trouble her friend, however.

Lorna Dane has posed:
"Fuck, you heal faster than..." Lorna pauses before finishing saying the sentence. Even so she'd dedicated herself to this task and she's going to see it through much like any other thing she's decided to do. She does work quickly where she can though mostly her fingers just end up bloodied with his blood before it seals up again. "So it seems. I'd rather not see anyone and bullets though. I can usually stop that myself," she adds with a hint of amusement in her own tone.

Her eyes skip over to Clarice. Then, without a word, she sits back in her chair and reaches for some of those cheap bar napkins to try and wipe her hands clean. "... I hadn't thought that far ahead. I was thinking more like a bar fight situation." Though she knows that isn't what they were talking about and she pauses, only to shake her head with a sigh. "Forget it. I don't think I can help there."

Victor Creed has posed:
Victor offers Clarice another chuckle, mouth opening to reveal his fangs. His hands healed but bloody, he leans down and rubs his hands off on the bottom of his trench coat which has a litany of similar stains.

"Yea, I heal faster then the runt. One of the reasons I've kicked his ass a few dozen times." He sighs, "This December just wasn't the same. I usually look forward to Logan's birthday... but well, got to stay on good terms, yea?" He frowns. "Real shame."

Shaking his head, "Yea.. I don't think you have the... taste for my kind of violence, Lorna. Appreciate the offer though. Besides, this is Gotham. I'll get the chance. Just got to beat one of the capes to a crime."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "Appreciate the offer, though," Clarice offers. It was a big change from Lorna's horror at realizing just how much her friend cared for this 'monster.' The smile she gives Lorna is genuine, then with a nod she adds, "I usually stop the bullets with a portal - send them right back at them, but my reflexes usually aren't good enough to stop all of them. The first few get through every time. I keep trying, but..." Well. Bullets travel fast, and when you're not a speedster, there's only so much your reflexes can do.
    "Just don't get caught - you know how the boss is about hunting on American soil," she offers with a quiet voice.

Lorna Dane has posed:
Lorna Dane takes up her glass again to take a few large gulps of it draining it halfway. It's a good point to stop though which she does with a little gasp for air after such big mouthfuls. "Yes, well." Locking her gaze with Clarice she offers her friend a stiff nod. She HAD promised she would try, after all. This was her trying. "It's one thing when in combat. Just... otherwise, no. Not my thing." Hunting. Eugh. There was a thought.

"It's probably a good thing you didn't go after him this year anyway given his daugther has been around a lot. I don't think that would have made the situation between the groups any less tense if she tried to get involved as well. Anyway," she leans in her seat again rocking it back on two legs casually. "I'll pretend I haven't heard any of this other talk. I know nothing. Besides, I'm fairly certain I'm tipsy at this point and my memory can't be accurate."

Victor Creed has posed:
Victor Creed says, "Ah shit. Maybe I should have you dump me in Madripoor for the night instead. Plenty there who deserve a bad end." Sabertooth waves a hand dismissively. "Yea. I always tell people who fight beside me to take care of themselves. It's a waste of time tryin' to save me from anything. Might even get you killed... and what good is a dead ally, huh?"

"Ahh.. Laura. Now there's a kid I want to tussle with. Way I hear it, she's got twice the balls that Logan has. The little one is a spitfire too. Pretty much proof that he didn't have a damn thing to do with raisin' them." He barks a laugh.

"Eh, even if you told her, she won't give a shit unless I get caught, or if she needs some more ammo to give me a verbal dressin' down. I've always been way too useful for that woman to stay mad at me for long." He muses then looks at Lorna with some concern.

"Though if you get too shit faced and hurt. Might be a different story." He squints at Lorna then side-eyes Clarice. "Maybe we should get you both back to the rock. I can always get Paris to drop me down for some fun."

At that moment, a woman comes in carrying a pizza. The bartender nods toward the group. She approaches and doesn't even seem to care about the blood on the table. She just plops the box down and immediately departs to escape the hell hole of a bar."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "I don't think Paris can get up to the rock and back. It's out of his range. You need me, or Ritz, or Gates for that." And all three of them are a little overtaxed of late. Does she have the power to get him to Madripoor, and herself back home?
    That's when the pizza gets set in front of her. Ooo! Food. "I think I can manage Madripoor though," she remarks, as her mood improves immdiately. "You want a slice, Lorna?" she asks, setting her coffee down, so she can open the box and pull off a slice - after sprinkling it with pepper flakes of course.

Lorna Dane has posed:
Lorna Dane looks momentarily confused at the name Laura. "Not her, the other one. The youngest. I haven't heard of Laura being around the school at all." At least not the last she'd heard and since it wasn't something she was specifically checking around for, it wasn't as if she were a font of information. "Logan seems quite fond of the youngest though. He had escorted me as a bodyguard to a few functions not so long ago. Political things," she explains while the pizza is eyed. Then Clarice makes her offere earning a quick nod. "Just one slice. So I'm not 'shit faced'," she points out with amusement. "If you have trouble getting back to the asteroid I could just get us a hotel here, Clarice. You are going to need to rest soon. I think we all are. Well. Those of us without renewable stamina."

Victor Creed has posed:
Victor grumbles a little bit and takes a slice for himself. "Guess I'll just save it for the angels. Only place you are bringin' anyone is back to the asteroid, kid. Lets get enough fuel in you to get back home and then call it."

"Oh the youngest makin' that kind of name for herself, eh?" Victor brightens up as he gets ideas then slaps his temple. "Eh... I save that fight for when peace isn't so damn important."

He frowns again at the idea of Logan being a bodyguard, "You know, he doesn't have a great success record. But I guess as long as -I'm- not the assassin, you are safe with him. He's got a half-way decent nose for trouble."

Victor stuffs the rest of the pizza slaw in his maw and rises. After a big swallow, he thumbs toward the back. "Takin' a piss and then we can get out of here."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "You could always hop in the training room and tear through things," Clarice suggests for Creed. "Though it never delivers the same catharsis." Maybe they just need to program the projections to scream and die more realistically? But it probably would make no difference.
    "No assassinating my friends, Mister Creed," Clarice remarks in a dry tone - rolling her eyes broadly. She looks at Lorna adding, "You'd think these things go without saying, but..."
    Yes, she's teasing her mentor - and no, not too many can get away with teasing Creed with impunity. She takes a few bites of her pizza, watching Creed head towards the back - and wondering if he really is going to use the facilities.
    Or check the allies for someone to kill. It's a toss up sometimes.

Lorna Dane has posed:
"It was more to keep annoying politicians away than any real bodyguarding," Lorna admits while she indulges in a bite of the pizza. It was greasy and not that good but for a late night snack with beer? Perfect. "Mm. Besides, he doesn't look half bad in a tuxedo, oddly enough." Wait. Should she have admitted that out loud? Probably not. "And I'd like to think I haven't ticked you off enough to be on that list, Creed."

A finger snap-points to Clarice when she pipes up about assasinating. "Yes, she is wise, listen to Clarice. Clarice knows all." He's off then leaving the two women alone at the table. A thought springs to mind, and given her lessening sense of propriety, she calls out, "Remember, more than two shakes and you're playing with it!" ... Yes, she just chomps on the pizza here to silence herself.

Paris Bennet has posed:
Paris Bennet will return after some time, paper bag under an arm that's not in the shape of a bottle. Much too rectangular. He'd also stated earlier what he was about.

This time there's no teleportation involved in his return either. He was either good to his word, or he'd returned entirely by foot. A risky proposition for most in this town, thankfully he's no more 'most' than the company he tends to keep.

When he approaches the table, he announces much like before,"Another stout, good sir. Same as before."

He then adds in a more normal tone,"He was good to his word. It will go on my shelf."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "Lorna!" Clarice protests - letting out a laugh, and shaking her head at the quips from her friend. "What the hell." She rolls her eyes, eating more of her pizza, and looking up towards Paris as the man returns, offering a nod of greeting.
    "Well. Glad you found what you were looking for, I guess. I just don't- well. I'm still getting used to books, really." Probably a strange thing for the man to hear - getting used to books, rather than getting used to //technology//.

Lorna Dane has posed:
Lorna Dane grins indulgently toward Clarice offering up an innocent enough shrug. "I'm tired, I'm stressed, the world may be ending. There's not a lot of reason for me to avoid a joke or two." Besides. Can ANYONE ever claim to have said that to Creed? It's amusing enough for her as well. Thankfully her mind is allowed to refocus on Paris when he arrives looking marginally surprised she hadn't received that little jumpscare from his teleporting. "Ah, welcome back. What is it you've found then?"

A gesture is made to the empty seats at the table perhaps needlessly so. "You've been doing fine with reading, Clarice, it'll just take practice."

Paris Bennet has posed:
The knight in the three piece suit in the Gotham dive smiles easily at Clarice as he reminds,"You explained well enough before. Perhaps one day we may find the time for me to assist with that when I have mastered the...erm, subtleties? Of the common english."

Paris glances between the two, having hardly missed the raucus laughter of earlier. By his look he conveys that well enough!

To Lorna he replies,"Nothing so humorous as whatever I missed. A bound set of photocopies of a collection of surviving texts from the records of the Knights of Malta."

The drink arrives much sooner this time than last, and he informs him to go ahead and bring him another.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "My readings been getting better - I've been practicing a lot. Between you insisting, and Lydia's teaching, and Rahne's addiction to books..." Clarice hasn't been able to escape from it! "And Theo's pretty insistant, too. I get it from every direction. Can you imagine how many lectures I'd get if I didn't spend enough time reading every day?" she remarks in a dry tone.
    She finishes off her pizza slice, and grabs for another, looking at Paris with a curious look. "What do you want those records for?" she asks.

Lorna Dane has posed:
Lorna Dane reaches over to clap a hand on Clarice's shoulder in a friendly way. She was far more relaxed than she had been in ages for various reasons and it showed tonight. This was hardly the place for a Queen, so no need to act as one. At least for the time being. "I'm proud of you. You've come a long way. And yes, I'm sure Theo and Rahne are both great helps as well as those teaching you." Sitting back again she tips her head toward Paris once more.

"The Knights of Malta? Were they your former order?" That's how it's said, right? She was trying. "And you do seem to be fitting in rather well these days. You look positively dashing in that suit." Even if he was a bit out of place in this bar.

Paris Bennet has posed:
Paris Bennet nods agreeably to Clarice as Lorna offers encouragement, not inclined to try to match it verbally as he is keenly aware of his own inability to offer anything that was likely to be as well received. He doesn't speak until a moment after this,"They were not. They had been around for a little while in my day, they ran hospitals in and on the road to Jerusalem under a similar edict as the Knights Hospitaller. I myself did not belong to an order, I was in the service of the King of France."

Paris turns back his glass for a moment, wetting his throat at the moment of reminiscence, then continues,"To the more pressing point, I want them to help clarify my place in this world. I want to know why the knights I hear tell of are mere merchants and actors and not proper warriors. I'm hoping that their words can lend something to this end. And..."

He then glances down, then to the others in the bar noting the stark difference anew, and breathes,"Thank you."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "Which knights were only merchants and actors?" Clarice asks in bafflement. "I thought knights were all warriors. ...was I wrong?" There's a lot she doesn't know about the world, though. Not having an education can be a major stumbling block at times, and she looks between the pair in confusion.
    "Help yourself to come of the pizza, if you like," she offers. "Though - when Mister Creed gets back, I think we'll be headed up to the asteroid. I need to call it a night before too much longer."

Lorna Dane has posed:
Lorna Dane lifts her drink to take a long, slow sip. Compared to her earlier gulps this was positively dainty as she had no need to get further tipsy. "Mmm," she responds to the pair as they puzzle over that issue. Lowering her hand again she considers while licking her lips to get all the beer. "I don't know the exact reason but I presume you mean why knights and dames of Britain are currently actors or singers or the like. I believe it had something to do with the Reinnesaince? History is not my major. I know that it was in an attempt to switch from matters of war to a more civilized society. These days those that have received reknown and recognition in their fields may become considered 'national treasures' and be knighted to give them titles in acknowledgement of this."

"But, again I don't know for certain. As far as Kingdoms go ours is relatively new. I've no old history to fall back on." Glancing to Clarice she nods in agreement. "Yes, I should likely get some rest as well. You know how I can get when I've too much to drink. There's no need in becoming an embarassment tonight."

Paris Bennet has posed:
The big frenchman shakes his head ruefully at Lorna's explanation, muttering,"Probably correct."

He rightens up then when Lorna says she is likely about to leave and downs his drink. He offers,"I can transport us forth. I had to tend to a group of hoodlums on my way back from the bookstore, this city reminds me of my old home in so many ways. Hardly as friendly as the title it bore would suggest. The crown jewel of Europe indeed."

Paris grins a touch at that, as if he doesn't entirely disapprove. After all, strength of arms comes from somewhere!

Then to Clarice he replies,"Quite alright, I appreciate it."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "Wouldn't want that to happen, Your Majesty," Clarice remarks in an amused voice, before letitng out a yawn. "...I really should sleep," she mutters.
    "I'm headed back up to the Asteroid," she adds. "Where... are the both of you headed tonight?" she asks. Honestly, she'd prefer to only open the one portal at this point - so if Paris is offering to do any other teleporting - she's hardly going to disagree with him.

Lorna Dane has posed:
"I'm fine with the asteroid for now as well. After all, it's not as if I'm going to be sleeping somewhere new tonight." Lorna smiles indulgently at her friend before clearing her throat. She shifts her chair back to begin to rise. "Lend me your arm, Sir Bennet? I'm afraid I may be a bit unbalanced at the moment. We should get Clarice home and to bed before she passes out. She's done quite a lot of work today. I'm sure you'd also like to get your treasure safely tucked away as well."

Paris Bennet has posed:
Paris smiles broadly at being addressed thus and asked for such a favor. He is happy to do so, and replies to Clarice,"I've nowhere that I would prefer to be elsewise, either. Let us therefore return."

Sir Bennet assists Lorna to her feet as requested, and makes to accompany the duo to the asteroid via the Blink Express.