Owner	Pose
Zatanna Zatara	The old biddy has reset the wards on the building so Zee can portal in without a sting. She walks out of the purple doorway and straightens her jacket with a tug then promptly sneezes. Indian incense does that to her. Call her a snob, but she prefers the finer Japanese made incense. "Nettie, you old crow, are you in?" The click of claws on a hard surface draws her attention, "Well, look at you! All tarted up in a hat!"
Nettie Crowe	The bird of the word lands on the tea counter, still wearing a tricorne. He's even added a little scarf to it, tied back as he feels he looks rather dapper!     "Good evening Zatanna!" Corvax greets the magician, tail fanning out as his wings give a flap, his head turning this way and that.     "Yes! Miss Kinney saw fit to FINALLY give me a hat. I feel like a respectable gentleman now instead of a dirty ol' bird!" he greets, looking rather proud of his tricorne hat.     Nettie herself comes out of the 'PRIVATE - NOT A PUBLIC BATHROOM' door, a hand-rolled cig to her mouth, her hair wild and unruly, sporting bruising along the side of her head as she pauses, and then looks at Zee.     "God's Blood, Zatanna. What brings you 'bout my neck of the woods this late?"
Zatanna Zatara	Hiding her concern, Zatanna raises one finely shaped eyebrow at the sight of Nettie's face "Been ringside lately, Nettie or fall down some stairs drunk?" Without waiting for her answer, she walks over to the counter to stand next to the dapper bird. "The hat does not make the bird. Nor the habit the monk. But the scarf is a nice look. You make a dashing pirate."
Nettie Crowe	"Peh. Some toughs tried to take one outta ol' Nettie Crowe. They chose their target poorly. I gave 'em the first hit is all." Nettie answers back gruffly, and she makes her way to the teabar. She's wearing fuzzy slippers. They are BRIGHT pink.     "Oh no, manners make the man, I *was* quite the dashing pirate. A lady love in every port..."     "That's how you got clap." Nettie mutters, and she leans back.     "Tea or something stronger tonight, Zee?"
Zatanna Zatara	Grimacing, Zee nods and approaches the other mage, she raises a hand but does not touch her. She knows better. "Well, I hope you put them well in their place. Did you know them? More softly, she adds, "I could remove the bruise, I think." Then, after a quiet breath, "And I need something stronger than tea. Whiskey, if you have it." She takes a step back and gives the crow a sidelong glance and bites back a smile, "That'll teach you not to put your boat into every port in a storm."
Nettie Crowe	The crow puffs up all his feathers.     "I did NOT have -- I didn't have anything!" the crow gapes a mome nt, his beak hanging open before he gives a HRRRMPH! and flies to a different perch.     "No. Just some ruffians who decided I looked like a prime target to scratch an itch or to get robbed." Nettie comments as she pulls a bottle out, and gives it a wiggle, before she follows with two hand-made shot glasses. More like shot-and-a-halfs, each decorated with a pretty white skull. She pours for Zatanna and herself.     "Whiskey it is. This is an Irish one, I like it quite a lot. Writer's Tears. Has a bit of an apple and ginger finish."
Zatanna Zatara	"Why does anything with tears in the title seem apropos for you Nettie?" Zee take the drink and a half with a grateful nod. Holding the glass in her hand, she gazes at Nettie more closely. "What did you do to them?" She sniffs and pulls a handkerchief out of her sleeve. "Can I bring you some incense back from Japan for the shop? I think you'd like it."
Nettie Crowe	"Oh I've got some sandalwood and Nippon ka-fuh somewheres over there -- this stuff just covered the reek of the two girls who try to smoke their awful, cheap hemp in the back of the shop. Finally had to kick them out." Nettie waves it off, and she pauses, and looks at the bottle a moment.     "I have shed more than my fair share of them. Sometimes wonder if I can still cry." she mumbles, and she takes another drag off her handrolled cigarette.     Nettie looks to Zatanna.     "Why the concern, Zee? Just a couple of lads who wanted a soft target. Nothing to fret yourself over, pet." she states, and she downs her shot, and goes to pour a second.
Zatanna Zatara	"It takes diamonds to scratch glass. Here's to our diamond, Nettie!" Zee raises the glass which glints amber as she knocks it back. She looks at Nettie over the top of the glass, then puts the empty glass on the counter with a sharp clack. "Who would ever think you were a soft target? No one in their right mind. How did you scare them off?"
Nettie Crowe	"Easy, Zee. They touched me an' had visions of their own deaths, one pissed hisself and ran off, the other had a conniption and nearly decided to paint the alley with his brains." Nettie states. "Knocked him out 'fore he could. He's in the hospital now." Nettie gives a snort, and pours Zee another round as well.     "There's a reason my datin' life is absolute bloody shambles, isn't there?"
Zatanna Zatara	"How does it work then? Does your lover see visions of their demise every time you kiss?" Zee hugs herself, rocking in place with a beatific expression on her upturned face. One glance at Nettie and she drops her little pantomime with a grin. "I need to get word to John. I've tried. Maybe you can, if you don't mind. I have some demon hunting to do and I need his help." A scowl replaces her grin.
Nettie Crowe	"Oh. Anyone who touches me physically for any longer than a slap to the face gets the visions. Prolonged company will do the job too, some folks warded up against it and some folks apparently don't mind it, but hey -- it's a living. I suppose. Since, you know, it's been that way since I was fourteen and really there's really all there is to it." she gives a huff. "Why? You got your eye on an older lady?" Nettie gives a snort... and she frowns a moment.     "Prolly not. Man's married to Gaea's daughter. I don't reckon he's getting any messages unless he wants to receive them. An' I don't think he's talking to me. On account of the whole, you know..." she waves a hand around "In my botched memory issues I thought his body double was him and sang the poor bastard to sleep a couple times. Worried about him bein' cold and all that. Thought he turned over a new leaf. Man deserves happiness."     Nettie takes another pull of her whiskey.     "God knows he's probably earned it."