Owner	Pose
Phoebe Beacon	There is an aqueduct that, on account of the rain having been not as bad this summer, has pretty much dried to the point where the locale can be used for racing. Easily just over a quarter mile, it was flat, had nicely diagonal sides that people could sit and smoke on and watch cars and bikes race, and in this part of town it's not too unusual for people to get a little rowdy. There's even a couple of less-than-legal street carts and food trucks that have set up shop, and a make-shift bar consisting of empty ACE chemical barrels and stolen doors selling cheap beer in solo cups.     The main part of the race set up is under an overpass, where any rain that does fall is mostly taken care of.
Violet Paige	Ahhh an illegal street race. Not Violets usual scene. But the party she was at was a bore and when a couple of people suggested they hit up another, even less reputable, venue for a change of pace. Well she jumped at the chance. Inside at least. Wouldn't do to let the hangers on know she gave a shit. Tall and with an athletic build Violet moves with a slinky confident prowl that says 'I've got money, I've got drugs and I will fight you'. An easy confidence that, when combined with her reputation, should allow her to get into the event. Most people usually let her in just to see what kind of a story the papers will report on the next morning. Will she punch a reporter? Hook up with a model? You never can tell with Violet Paige.
Phoebe Beacon	Tall and athletically built Violet moves through the riffraff and flotsam and jetsam of Gotham's underbelly, a collection of lower gang members who think they're hot shit and everyone else ain't shit. Some of them think they've even got power.     Well, in this crowd? Some of them do.     A couple of people watch Violet as she walks by, and one guy reclining on a makeshift throne of pallets and crates drops his sunglasses and gives a wolfwhistle to Violet.
Violet Paige	Violet Paige is at least dressed for a street race. An outfit of mostly black leather with metal studs in. As at home in a Goth club, a metal bar or any number of illegal events around Gotham. Plus sunglasses. Yes it's dark. But she's been drinking and taking god knows what drugs since... She doesn't actually know what day it is. Too long probably. "This your party?" she calls back, raising her voice to be heard over the noise. "Or you just the one who holds the little cards that say go?"
Phoebe Beacon	"No, an' no. I just have command over this little section of the stands, an' about six blocks north." he grins, yellowe dteeth from smoking as he leans back on his makeshift throne. "You looking for the best seat in the house, beautiful? 'Cause I got it right here." he pats his lap with a bright grin, and makes kissy-faces at Violet in the meantime.     A fight breaks out close to the pit, where a couple of cars are getting prepped for their heat.
Violet Paige	Violet Paige pulls her shades down for a moment and fixes the king of the pallet throne with a withering, if bloodshot, glare. "Six blocks huh? You know I spend more on coke in a month than those six blocks are worth," she retorts. "And your seat looks a little.. /small/ for my liking." She makes sure that last bit is loud enough for everyone to hear. If she's going to pick a fight might as well pick it with everyone who wants one at once. "I'm just here to get a few drinks, maybe smoke a joint, and bet on the races. Same as anyone else."
Phoebe Beacon	"Yeah, well, no one wants your ugly ass anyway." The guy says dismissively, giving a wave towards Violet to dismiss her.     There's some snickering around the man on his trash throne as the fight by the pit picks up in steam, until someone gets thrown with a yelp, upsetting someone else's cheap beer. That gets another person started in the fight.
Violet Paige	Violet heads over to where it looks like people are betting and drinking. Now that she's avoided an unfortunate evening as a slumlords girl she relaxes enough to pull a crumpled joint out from her jacket pocket. A home rolled affair that, much like everything in Gotham, has seen better days. "Twenty bucks on the guy who threw that guy," she offers to a nearby group of patrons. "Any takers?"
Phoebe Beacon	"I've got twenty on the guy with the spilled beer!"     "Twenty on the airborne!" calls are going out, people are getting energetic, and it's all rather peturbing the one who did the throwing, mostly because she didn't want to grab attention.     She's got short hair done up in little braids that stick out all over the place with pink-dyed tips. Her dark eyes are narrowed, and she's wearing a high-collared leather shirt and jeans and a pair of good, sensible boots. She wipes away the blood under her nose, looking a little surprised as the big guy who's beer got knocked over comes in with a haymaker, which she ducks and delivers a sharp jab to his stomach!
Violet Paige	Ahh the guy who did the throwing was a woman. Violet takes a second to register this and slams a twenty down. "My moneys on pink-tips," she re-affirms. Breezing over the misgendering and lighting her joint. "And someone get me a beer?" She waves another twenty as if expecting this place to have table service. Clearly it doesn't but usually there's some suck up willing to play gopher. And she's paying way more than the beers in this place cost. She claps when the girl with pink-dyed tips jabs the bigger guy. "That's it girl you kick his ass."
Phoebe Beacon	Violet gets a beer, someone else pays for it, and the money starts flying as people realize that the underdog in the fight is a girl.     The thrown man tries to come in to flank her, but she ducks him -- his strike hits the bigger beer-covered guy, who snarls out a line of insults and then gives another throw -- this time the guy goes flying towards the crowd where Violet is standing!
Violet Paige	People might expect the socialite to duck or scream. But then people rarely know how Violet Paige will react. It's one of the reasons the Gotham press love her so much. She's volatile. It makes for good headlines. So when the guy comes flying towards her and she just stands firm. Arms up like she's an NFL player expecting a pass and she doesn't get knocked flat on her ass. Well it probably draws a little attention! Unseen cybernetics allow her to catch the thrown racer, twist, and throw him over her. A bit like a judo or wrestling throw. She does at least try aim for somewhere he won't get lasting injury. But hell she won't shed any tears if he lands on concrete. It's probably what'd have happened anyway.
Phoebe Beacon	"WHAT THE F--" comes a cry from behind Violet as a trash-heap throne is collapsed under the weight of the thrown racer.     And it's down to Pink-Tips and Beerstain.     Beerstain sizes up pink tips, who looks up as if asking him to stop. Her heavy eye make up was already a bit runny, and she tilts her head, her gloved fingers curling a little as they face off against one another.     People do cheer at how Violet just neatly tossed the guy without a care. She gets another beer, one for each hand!
Violet Paige	The second beer is received with enthusiasm. Especially given most of the first ended up spilled during the throw. She might be trained in martial arts but for some reason Gather House didn't expect her to fight someone while also not spilling a drink. Short sighted of them really. She takes a few tokes on her joint and blows a cloud of smoke. "Just kick his ass and be done with it!" she shouts to the girl. "Some of us got money riding on this." And that means there's unlikely to be a peaceful solution. Gotham is rarely so forgiving.
Phoebe Beacon	The girl in the fight manages a very Wet Cat expression in Violet's direction, which almost ended up with her eating a fist before she gives a cartchweel, and pulls off a hip-hop like move where she's down on her hand and sweeps Beerspill's legs, taking them out from under him.     She's quick about it, following up with her sturdy boot going to his throat with what looked like intent to crush.     Beerstain lifts his hands, coughing, and backs off.
Violet Paige	Violet Paige roars along with the crowd. Some pissed at losing money and others happy to have won. Her 'winnings', an amount so trivial Voilet could use it to roll her next joint with, get thrown over towards pink-tips. Presumably anyone racing in a place like this needs the money. Or they have a death wish. Or both. It's Gotham after all. "They even gonna have enough people to race now?" she wonders. Looking at the results of the brawl to try figure out just how many cars still have drivers.
Phoebe Beacon	Pink tips looks at the money with a fairly amused expression, and instead gives a sharp whistle, and throws it out to the crowd.     Not her problem if one of the racers isn't awake to run his car. She was just there retrieving something someone stole off her bike.     She looks to Violet, gives a wink, and then goes to climb out of the aquaduct.
Violet Paige	Violet Paige smirks when pink tips throws the money and winks. "Well," she muses. "Who gives a fuck if there's a race? If there's anyone selling nose candy." She motions to the crowd. "Then lines for everyone on me." She's good for whatever overpriced charges they throw at her. And besides it's not like she gives a shit about the money. The only thing that matters is keeping the boredom away for a few hours longer. And the night is still so very young.