Owner	Pose
Felicity Smoak	Club Arrowcave is currently in full effect. If one didn't expect Oliver to spring for the expensive sound system to complement the rest of the high-tech gadgetry and state-of-the-art gym in the Arrowcave, one didn't really know Oliver all that well. Except, it wasn't Oliver on the salmon ladder (much to Felicity's own disappointment). It was Felicity herself, standing at one of the lab stations with a scanner analyzing some sort of brown clothing that's half-covering the scanner and half-hanging-off. Notably, it was the head of the suit that was hanging off. A racoon head. A freaking creepy racoon head. No face. Just ears. Like a hoodie. And it laid there, staring limply out into the room like a pelt with the skull removed. All while Felicity's head bobbed to the beat of her own drum -- which, in this case, was the song Antisec by deadmau5. "Fast forward, now the internet anonymous And captains on the Lulzboat raise the mast prominent dominant hacks Antisec on that new new Droping tables in MySQL like it was some poo poo.." Rapping is... well, she's at no risk of leaving Oliver and releasing a new single any time soon, but she knows the words and she keeps up to the beat. She reaches out and twists a knob, dialing up the contrast of what she was looking at. Ambiance: https://youtu.be/PCW6BkSp1Sc
Roy Harper	Roy emerges into the cave wearing black shorts, a blank tank top, and white Adidas runners. He's here for a workout! It was already light when he returned to the mansion from patrolling Gotham, so most likely he woke up just a few minutes ago. His mussed bed-head seems to support that theory. Why he didn't stay at the Outsiders tower is a mystery. But sometimes it's just nice to come home to an awesome mansion! He works a small dance for a moment, turning in a circle as he does. Kid's no slouch with the dance moves, though his clubbing days are few and far between. Gotta avoid temptation. "Sick music!" he says to Felicity. "Perfect for a workout. So what's up with..." He vaguely waves his hand in the direction of the raccoon suit. "...whatever the hell that thing is?"
Felicity Smoak	It's the reflection and the movement that draws Felicity's gaze from the screen of the prototype composite spectrometer/microscope, head turning and ponytail swinging as she looks back over her shoulder at the smooth moves of a man she hadn't hadn't seen in quite a while. "Roy!" Still smiling, she rolls her wrist up in front of herself and taps a few things on its digital face -- it doesn't turn the music off, but it does turn it down to a conversational volume. "Thanks. That was hot." Pause. Blink. "Like.. cool moves. Not like.. /that was hot./ Which, I know, are the same words, but it was supposed to sound..." Merciful distractions. The racoon suit! "Oh! This old thing..." She even has a little laugh in her voice, just like he'd complemented a dress she was wearing before a dance, turning her back to him again and moving her hand to the top of the suit. She slides it a little in the scanner and zooms out the image, but then she flips it over to a picture she'd taken of the suit completely spread out on a table. (Luckily, no one had nabbed a picture of her /in/ it). It's the Mario 3 racoon suit in all its glory. "It's.. kind of of a long story? I got teleported into this weird dimension where I was wearing it and riding a robotic triceratops that shot flames out of its nostrils while being chased by a motorcycle gang of sharks..."
Roy Harper	Tipping his head to the side a bit and peering strangely at Felicity, Roy breaks out into a laugh. "And they tell me that I'm the one with the drug problem?" he says. "Okay, so let's start at the beginning," he says as he moves over to the workout area. We all know the drill. All these heroes who rely on physical fitness are in peak, peak human condition. So we won't bore the reader with a description of Roy's form. He racks up 100 pounds on the bench press -- he prefers low weight, high reps. Sliding under the bar, he starts to pump out rapid reps. "Were you wearing the raccoon suit *before* you took the X or did you put it on afterwards?"
Felicity Smoak	"Okay -- so, two things..." Felicity turns and rests her hip up against the counter, folding her arms over her stomach. "One, no matter /what/ Oliver tells you, this is not mine. I did not pick it. I did not buy it. He watched it happen." She pauses, looking a little thoughtful. "Also.. maybe be careful with dressing too much like a plumber for a little while." Silence lingers as Felicity seems to drift off into her own thoughts for a moment. Then she's back. "Two! Or.. maybe Three. I do not, nor have I ever done drugs." Pause. Eyeshift. Her hand comes up, index finger raises. "/Once/. One time. And it was by mistake. It was a pot brownie. And it could have been fun, except I'm allergic to nuts. Whatever. I was standing there.." She points over to the little kitchen area -- specifically the fridge. "Eating ice cream out of the carton -- don't judge me -- and then.. whatever happened.. happened. And there was this crowd that was chanting Mojo over and over again."
Roy Harper	Exhaling sharply with each extension, Roy finishes his first 30 reps and returns the barbell to its hooks. He sits up, staring blank-faced at Felicity. "Dressing like a plumber?" he repeats incredulously. "I mean, I'm pretty sure I was Mario one year for Halloween when I was little." He shakes his head. "Nope, nope, I'm not even gonna unpack that one." He nods in Felicity's direction. "A pot brownie, huh? Oh man would I wouldn't give for a pot brownie." He exhales, shaking his head. "But I'm *happy* to have those days in my past for good. So you weren't high and you weren't on some sort of furry fantasy. Did you honest-to-god get pulled into another dimension? That sounds like something that would happen to Barry." He narrows his eyes at Felicity. Then he gets back in position and starts another set of 30 reps with the barbell.
Felicity Smoak	"No! No /special/ brownies for you. I'm glad you're clean. We /all/ are, and I am not going to be blamed for being a bad influence on you. Just say no." Felicity narrows her eyes a bit as she watches him (/not/ in the same, lingering way she watches Oliver, just for the record), but a smile tugs at the corners of her dusty purple painted lips. After a moment, though, she lets out a soft sigh and throws her hands up. "Honestly? I don't know /where/ I was pulled. That's what I'm trying to figure out. I'm analyzing the fibers on this costume to see if they or any of the residue left behind would lead me back to where it came from, but so far it's just a suit that you can get off of any bargain internet costume shop." She turns, then, and her fingers fly over a keyboard. Above her, a series of glass panels come to life, projecting up various images -- Mario in the Tanooki Suit, a Transformers Dinobot Triceratops with the word 'SLAG' under it, and a picture of four cartoon sharks on motorcycles with a stylized logo for 'STREET SHARKS' between them. "This is all I've been able to find. I did some research. /All/ of these are from the mid-1980s to mid-1990s. I was in some sort of arena where I was riding Slag to try to fight the Street Sharks -- and I was /told/ it was to the death. It was.. a little like being in a video game. But also, very much NOT like being in a video game."
Roy Harper	Re-racking the barbell after his second set of 30, Roy sits up again. His pale skin -- the curse of being a redhead -- is flushed and starting to get a little bit sweaty now, and he's breathing slightly faster. Dude's in amazing shape. But everyone around this place is, ain't nothin' special. "Did you try a web search of manufacturers who make suits like that? I don't imagine there is a massive market for stuff like that? What about chemical traces? As far as I'm concerned, the explanation is mundane until proven otherwise. So maybe you can find some chemical connection to an actual location." He lies back down to start his third set of 30 reps. "Is it possible... that you were... actually drugged?... Like against... your will and without... your knowledge?"
Felicity Smoak	"Not unless Oliver is the one that did it," Felicity says, turning back from the screens to face Roy. Rolling her eyes, though, her voice lowers to a mildly disgruntled murmur, "And it's not exactly like he'd need to rufie me. I'd settle for some flowers and a nice dinner out..." Beat. Pause. Her smile thins when she realizes she'd actually said that out loud. "Sorry." She shakes her head, though, and steps away from the counter. Her heels click across the floor as she strides to the kitchen, right back to where she had been standing when it happened. "I was /right here/, eating ice cream and talking to him. And then all of that happened. And then.. I was back. And I was wearing that costume, but I was.. woozie." Her hand reaches out to touch the edge of the counter. "He ran over from my desk.." Her eyes lift up to her desk, narrowing. "Emiko came in a few seconds later.." She pauses. Looong pause. "You don't think it's... possible?"
Roy Harper	After completing his third and final set of 30 reps, he gets up off the bench. Felicity's comment about roofies and flowers and dinner earns her a good, old-fashioned eye rolling from Roy. He sleeps in this mansion sometimes. The walls are thick, but they aren't *that* thick. Luckily he always keeps charged AirPods on standby. "Look, all I'm saying is that when you hear hoofbeats, assume a horse before you assume a zebra, ya know?" Roy says, walking into the kitchen and grabbing a cold bottle of water from the fridge. "Everything you're saying sounds exactly like someone being drugged. Did you run blood tests on yourself?" he inquires, quirking one eyebrow. Roy cracks open the bottle and drains it in one long, extended pull.
Felicity Smoak	"Oliver isn't a horse." There's a certain defensiveness in Felicity's tone that makes it /almost/ an angry snap that the conversation was going down a road that might accuse Oliver of drugging her. She was standing right by the fridge, so their speaking distance becomes much more manageable.. and her voice actually a little more hushed after that statement, too. "Besides. What reason would he have? All of this stuff is his, anyway." She lifts her hand towards her desk. "If he wants on the computer, all he has to do is sit down. He wouldn't need to drug me unless there was something he was doing that he didn't want me to... see." She draws in a breath and lets it out in a huff. "No." No blood test. Her eyes shift. That's neither a promise that she was going to or a statement she wasn't, either. Then her eyes lift back to him again. "Where did the suit come from? What, was he hiding it so when he knocked me out he could put me in a tanooki costume? I /did/ look up manufacturers. There's several, but none that are exact. As far as I can tell it's vintage -- the fibers are old, but it's in excellent condition. I have no idea how much someone would pay for a costume like that in the condition its in, but he would either have to have been plotting this since the mid-eighties or spent a /lot/ of money on eBay."
Roy Harper	Roy tosses the empty bottle into the recycle bin. "I don't think Oliver would drug you either. But there are about a hundred different explanations for how and why you could end up drugged here in the cave." As he passes by Felicity, he gives her shoulder a nudge with his elbow. It's a light touch of support, the touch of a friend. As he makes his way up the stairs two at a time he calls back, "Just ask yourself why you won't run blood tests on yourself if you don't think you were drugged? Sometimes we don't ask questions we don't want to answer to." And with a thunk, the armored door closes behind him and Roy is gone.
Felicity Smoak	Felicity frowns, her mood rapidly deteriorating by the second as her brain turned over all of the available information. "But he was /standing/ there..." She manages a little smile at the elbow bump, but her eyes seem out of focus, her mind putting pieces together. Oliver had all of it. The means. The motive. He could have done it, covered it up, not told her about it. But he's the /only/ one. Because she was /not/ in a racoon costume.. and then she /was/. And he was /there/ the whole time. Right? "See--" But he was already gone. And Felicity was just left with her thoughts.