(2014-09-22) Meanwhile at Bobby's
Meanwhile at Bobby's
Summary: Domino, Nightcrawler, and Hawkeye all get acquainted, friendly like
Date: (2014-09-22)
Related: http://ageofheroesmux.wikidot.com/log:2014-09-21-four-eggs-scambled
NPCs: NA
Scene Runner: NA
Social/Plot: Social
Players:
domino..hawkeye..nightcrawler..

Two days and some hours later…

Bobby's Burgers isn't exactly a dark, discreet environment. It's well lit, open, friendly, and perhaps an ideal location for someone of less than sterling reputation to make her case without making things seem any worse off. Shady bars just scream 'wrongness,' but a hip burger and shake joint? They can do no harm!

That doesn't stop her from claiming a table in the far corner of the room. Black jeans and a black overshirt (she's probably color-challenged) covers the armored skin and choice of illegal hardware while dark purple tinted sunglasses cover part of her face, and only about two-thirds of her Great Black Spot. Maybe Jupiter is somewhere in her family tree.

She arrived a little early, hunched forward with arms crossed together on the edge of the table with a barely touched vanilla malt awaiting her oh so delicate touch. She had only invited the one meta for this meeting but she can't help but wonder if he's the only one planning on showing.

She didn't exactly make a lot of new friends the other day.

Right on time, precise he is, Kurt enters the establishment. Absolutely his priority is burger, fries and a shake. Doing the line, waiting for the food, then looking around for the person he was supposed to meet.

Curiously, there she was, all in black, with shades on and everything. Incognito but sticking out slightly because of it, though could be a bad hangover, or simply into things of a dark nature. Himself, he wears nice jacket, trousers, and a t-shirt that looks like an old circus poster with some amazing strong guy holding 1800s dumb bells over his head with an awesome mustahce with amazing curls.

Everything on the food department ordered and such, he makes his way over. "Ah, this was real, the meeting. I took the liberty of ordering already." He leans in a little more, "I figured, you know, being on the board for Wagner Enterprizes Global, it would be silly if I really had you pay for my meal. Though, really, it was flattering that a charmer like you offered."

Is Hawkeye the only one who thinks about ordering in advance? Or maybe it's because it's one of Barton's more favourite burger joints, even if it's on the pricey side.

The SHIELD agent who doesn't really look like one at the moment enters the establishment, dark sunglasses in place, looking very much like the New Yorker he is. Walking to the front, he's pulling his wallet out even as he's handed a bag with his food. "I'll grab a coke, though.." and pulling a glass, Barton wanders into the dining area. If he was any less trained than he is, he'd pause at the scene in the back. Blue.. and white and black. Nothing like city living, huh? But, the soda fountain is attended and he makes his way back, bag and glass in hand, sliding into a seat as if he's known the pair forever and a day.

With a voice canted low, and his own eyes obscured by the dark lenses, Barton smiles a humourless smile. "Surprise."

Spotting the guy is easy. Very, very easy. Domino's shades won't hide something like the lanky blue guy with a tail from across the joint. Not unless he wanted them to, anyway. As soon as she sees him come in through the doors she turns one of her hands just slightly, glancing down at a watch strapped to the underside of a wrist. It's followed with a subtle motion of her head, there's something to be said about punctuality.

"Thought I'd stand you up? I can see we're going to have to work on our trust issues." Yeah, sure. Because she's such a trustworthy sort and all. Then she reaches out and flicks a black lacquered fingernail against the side of her glass with a soft *tnk,* "So did I." Wait..Wagner - did he say -Global?-

The albino blinks once then slowly brings that fingertip up to hook around the outside edge of her shades, dragging them down her nose a little ways. This guy… This -is- the guy, isn't it. "Well shit, maybe I should be asking you for work as long as we're both here."

Pause.

Pitching her voice lower, she adds "I don't suppose you have any inconspicuous friends that you decided to invite along." She has a clear view of the front. She's generally pretty good at spotting potential hazards well in advance. While she doesn't know the man, she can guess where he's heading.

Which is why she slips one hand under the table then quietly tugs a blade out to hide beneath her forearm.

"Not as much as you might think," she flatly replies to their mystery guest. "Since you aren't in a dorky tracksuit or covered in blue fur I'm going to go ahead and assume you're the friendly neighborhood archer."

Holding up his hands, like she caught him read handed, Kurt simply nods. Then shakes his head, more about inconspicious friends. He's the most inconspicious one he actually knows in this room and unless he's in the shadows, not much incognito about him at all.

About to respond even, grin on his face, he other arives, initiating the surprise moment. Good thing Domino places him too, cause Kurt was drawing a blank. "Well, the gang's all hear." He says, still thick with his german accent. "No, I'm not playing scooby though, ja?" A pause, "Well, except my longer haired blue friend, whom I don't know." Just to clear the air.

He still scoots onto his chair more, pulling his legs up to crouch sit, his tail moves to unwrap his straw for convenience, he needs hands to talk obviously.

"So, is this some weird game show. The guys with guns were some of your friends, cat and mouse, super spies. Cause I love me some spies, not quite as awesome as Pirate, nein, but close, ja."

"Track suits were over in the 70s when they began," Barton begins, his tones deadpanned. Brows rise, however, animating his expression just a little as if to say, 'Yeah, really.. me? In a track suit?' His tones are still low, though he cants them more towards the conversational, the words lilting. "That was pretty damned impressive back there. That whole.. shoot 'em up thing. Keeping people talking for weeks." Months. "And not the 'good' sort."

A glance is given to Kurt, but he tries not let it linger. He's not a religious guy, but… there's something about empty glowing yellow eyes that bugs him. Aaaand, a prehensile, spade tipped tail? "I wanna know what you two were up to on that one."

"See, that's the guy that I was expecting to crash the party," Domino says when Kurt mentions the other furball. "Yeah, leave it up to us meddling kids to make a mess of everything, huh." Is he..really..unwrapping a straw..with a TAIL oh God he is. "Nice trick," she says with that flat tone of voice yet intact.

It's followed by a snort, "Tracksuits were lame the instant they were an idea in some idiot's head—who the hell are you?" she suddenly asks with a burst of energy in her voice, pulling the shades from her face and narrowing her eyes to stare at Hawkeye in the same motion. "I didn't invite you to storytime and I'm not looking to become dinner pals, so how's about you find a reeeeally compelling reason for me to not introduce your face to this table at an appreciably violent velocity."

Putting the straw to the shake, still with tail, Kurt grins to domino, "Danke, it is useful, ja, and it came in blue, so I couldn't help but take it." The tail, though he turns the yellow eyes back to Barton as she redirects questions there. Taking a quick pull of chocolate goodness, he pauses when face smashing is brought into play.

"Nein, no, the face plantings and the car jackings and the locked trunks is for out there. We can't let good burgers be jeopardized by our uncivil intents." Waving his hands, three digits and all. "I'm with ghost-chen on this, my fine arrowed inducing fruend. We don't know who's who. All I can say is I stumbled into that mess and didn't want to stumble out of it in a body bag. Who where the guys with guns first, seems we all hate them, maybe we start there?"

"Ever pick a straw out of your eye?" Barton picks up the straw out of his fizzy soda, letting the end drip the sugary goodness back into the glass.

Clint leans forward and puts the straw back. "You got stuffed into the truck of a car owned by some guys who make the Italian mob look like babies. I wanna know why, and how." He looks back at Kurt, the question answered.

It's back again to Domino, and leaning to the side, Barton takes out his wallet and, lo and behold, there's an ID that links him to that big building in the city- SHIELD. He doesn't have a 'secret' identification, nor does he want one. This, he finds, is more useful for information gathering at times. "They're Russians, and they're not the best to have on your bad side. Now.. what I want to know how you got on their bad side."

[

Here Dom gives Nightcrawler a peculiar glance, the guy talking about his tail like he picked it up from the clearance shelf at a department store. "You are -so- weird." Then, "But the face plantings are a specialty of mine," she says in a level sort of protest. "-And- the - you're just keen on taking all of my fun, aren't you."

The threat about having a straw jammed in her eye leaves her challenging stare directed at the man, something which holds true through everything that he says. Right up until he brings out his ID. To her credit her expression really doesn't change any, though looking at her eyes would reveal the clear look of 'fuck me.'

Sigh.

"Alright, so I might have punched one of those guys in the face a few ..dozen times, but it was -totally- justified. Do I -look- like a 'bro' to either of you? Dumbass," she grumbles with a frown.

"Who would take those guys seriously anyway?" she presses with hands held upward in the air-frack, knife, still there. Whoopsie. Just as quickly tucking her hands back under the table and continuing as though nothing is amiss, "They look like a bunch of high school driving instructors for fuck's sake! Who knew there's a whole herd of the guys backed by stupid amounts of money and automatic weapons?"

Favoring Domino with a curious look, as if the conversation between them is of the utmost importance, forget SHIELD badges and straws in the eye. "In a good way though, ghost-chen?" That is, him being weird. "You'll have to show me these face plantings of yours, I don't want to take all of your fun."

He turns the number card for his order, as if that might make the waitress come sooner with his burger and fries even. It doesn't seem to help, must be broken. "Nein, not a bro, too cute, adorable, pinchable cheeks." He favors Barton a look, shaking his head, not really pinchable, like some inneundo that he's appeasing her. Though its a stage innuendo, she can see him doing it and he's grinning the whole time.

"So, there you go, do we get like a reward for helping you get those guys, being hardened criminals and with the Russian Mafia?"

The burger is rapidly cooling in his bag; the price exacted for being so dedicated to work? Still, he's got his soda, and pulling the straw out once again, Barton lays it on the table before finishing half of of the drink. He doesn't look particularly worried about the silent challenge, whether it's true courage or bravado, it's the same. "Why? They cross you? You cross them? Someone doesn't just end up-"

Okay, with those track-suit 'bros', people really do just end up in the trunk of a car.

Kurt's staged visuals gains a deadpanned response from Barton; completely straight-faced. "Actually, no. I wasn't anywhere near tying all the loose ends up to toss them in Federal lockup when the entire thing got blown apart." By- yes. Pale face. "What I'd like is not have to do the paperwork for 'obstruction'. And in that, I want the whole story. Beginning to end."

Not quite the reward. "But, if I like the story, I'm pretty sure I can figure out how to get 'said' reward. Or, a part of that 'stupid amounts' of money that is laundered and illegal anyway."

"Get on my bad side and I'll be happy to show you," Domino answers Nightcrawler in a darkened tone. "And I'm not a ghost."

The -look- that he gets when he mentions her 'pinchable cheeks' might suggest that the blue guy's going to find that bad side of hers sooner rather than later. "Look Bluebutt, I'm not against corporate hits." In the next moment she's almost blurting out a laugh. "-Reward,- are you shitting me?" She turns to Barton, black lips hooked into a smirk as she thumbs toward Kurt. "Can you believe this guy?" As if Hawkeye's the most normal person here.

..Well…

Wait. Waaaait a second, here. Dom's hand drops back to the table with an audible -whap,- her expression completely dead as she stares at Barton. Then both eyebrows hook upward. "There's money to be had here?"

Well. This changes everything.

"There was a wea-er-private business deal about a week back. Gotham stuff, real spooky. Word had it some Russians were pushing their goods, which didn't make the Mexicans happy. They had the market to themselves for a while there, cheap Chinese knock-offs, still raked in cash hand over foot. They wanted eyes on the meeting. I had been those eyes. Now..being a similar-minded connoisseur of ..Cold War relics, not only could I get paid to observe but I could double-down and do some quality control inspection of my own. Good memorabilia is difficult to find."

Somehow she manages to keep a straight face through all of this. She must have done this before.

Canting her head and glancing toward the table with a half-shrug, she ends the story with "Guy thought he was Jack Shit, got all up in my grill, bro-this bro-that, so I took a handful of Family Jewels and showed him how a chick fights."

What are ya gonna do?

'In a good way?' "Odds are in your favor, though get on my bad side and I'll be happy to show you my technique," Domino answers Nightcrawler in a darkened tone. "And I'm not a ghost."

The -look- that he gets when he mentions her 'pinchable cheeks' might suggest that the blue guy's going to find that bad side of hers sooner rather than later. "Look Bluebutt, I'm not against corporate hits." In the next moment she's almost blurting out a laugh. "-Reward,- are you shitting me?" She turns to Barton, black lips hooked into a smirk as she thumbs toward Kurt. "Can you believe this guy?" As if Hawkeye's the most normal person here.

..Well…

Wait. Waaaait a second, here. Dom's hand drops back to the table with an audible -whap,- her expression completely dead as she stares at Barton. Then both eyebrows hook upward. "There's money to be had here?"

Well. This changes everything.

"There was a wea-er-private business deal about a week back. Gotham stuff, real spooky. Word had it some Russians were pushing their goods, which didn't make the Mexicans happy. They had the market to themselves for a while there, cheap Chinese knock-offs, still raked in cash hand over foot. They wanted eyes on the meeting. I had been those eyes. Now..being a similar-minded connoisseur of ..Cold War relics, not only could I get paid to observe but I could double-down and do some quality control inspection of my own. Good memorabilia is difficult to find."

Somehow she manages to keep a straight face through all of this. She must have done this before.

Canting her head and glancing toward the table with a half-shrug, she ends the story with "Guy thought he was Jack Shit, got all up in my grill, bro-this bro-that, so I took a handful of Family Jewels and showed him how a chick fights."

What are ya gonna do?

"Alas, you are right, I am not a devil but am easily confused," grins Kurt to Domino, "And you are not a ghost, but you have the pale thing going for you, and the patch - I like it." As if to indicate its not a bad thing by any means to have the look that she does. Grinning, he turns to Barton as he is saying their could be a reward.

Letting Domino go into the details. He focuses on his own food for the moment, dipping a fry into the shake and eating it. "Ja, they are not Jack Shit, I can say my involvement on the night in question began with a rainy storm and some lightning, it was creepy so I left and came to New York City by way of … its just what I do." The teleporting thing, "I ran into suspect A here," he thumbs at Domino, "At the scene when I was alerted to her presence by a suspicious thud, which was her in the trunk. As a good citizen," of Germany, "I was duty bound to let her out. Then those guys showed up and I accidently dropped on on top of that car before the other blue guy, no relation, showed up and bowled them over."

Of -course- Barton is the most normal person here. Talking to an albino with a black eyepatch and a fuzzy, blue… meta-something or other that has a prehensile tail and teleports.

"… and you got to see the inside of their trunk," Clint oh-so-helpfully finishes. "Get the ride from Gotham, or was it new and you were going to have a special view of the East River?" Either way, it wasn't going to be pretty- regardless of how it turned out.

Hawkeye ignores the question and takes up his drink. There's not much left but ice and some seriously watered down soda, and so a face is made, but he drains it. "See, Russian Chinese cheap shit is different than Mexican just by the nature of the beast. Fall of the last government and every Russian was selling anything and everything over here. We had a glut on the market. Then, the Chinese figured that the Russians had the fast track to sales here, and…" let the pair fill in the blanks. Russian Chinese trumps Mexican Chinese in most everything. Including armaments and the like. That whole 'communist bro' thing.

Kurt's story regarding the time in question leads to a tight smile. And that's when it went belly up for him. "Okay. now what I want to know is who you are." Both of you.

The patch, yeah… When it's pointed out Domino is quick to turn the subject right back toward the elf. "You sure are easily confused."

Aah, melty malt… So much easier to kill via straw after it's had a chance to thaw.

Without missing a beat, 'suspect A' has her adding "A for Awesome." Heh. "'Accidentally,' right," she mutters with a sneer. Then, perhaps more to herself, "Pretty damn funny, too. The look on that guy's face…"

Right..back to happyfun storytime. "From G-Town, if you must know. Took 'em a couple of days to find me." During which time she took another job or four on the side. Money's a girl's best friend, next to supercars and hot loaded ammunition.

"It wasn't horrible, as far as trunks go. Could have done without the injection, though. I think they expected me to be out a bit longer than I was." Go go robust metagenes.

Here's the kicker. 'Who you both are.' She's going to go ahead and mix it up a little, acting without thinking once more as she brings her one hand up and points at Mister Blue with the tip of her matte black knife, which is probably something -else- which she's done before. A lot.

"'Nightcrawler.' Like the Retrosic song. … Anyone? Forget it," she then dismissively waves before hiding hand and blade beneath the table once more. "Sooo..how much of a reward are we looking at here? Thirty grand? Fifty?"

The patch, yeah… When it's pointed out Domino is quick to turn the subject right back toward the elf. "You sure are easily confused."

Aah, melty malt… So much easier to kill via straw after it's had a chance to thaw.

Without missing a beat, 'suspect A' has her adding "A for Awesome." Heh. "'Accidentally,' right," she mutters with a sneer. Then, perhaps more to herself, "Pretty damn funny, too. The look on that guy's face…"

Right..back to happyfun storytime. "From G-Town, if you must know. Took 'em a couple of days to find me." During which time she took another job or four on the side. Money's a girl's best friend, next to supercars and hot loaded ammunition. "It wasn't horrible, far as trunks go. Could have done without the injection, though. I think they expected me to be out a bit longer than I was." Go go robust metagenes.

Here's the kicker. 'Who you both are.' She's going to go ahead and mix it up a little, acting without thinking once more as she brings her one hand up and points at Mister Blue with the tip of her matte black knife, which is probably something -else- which she's done before. A lot. "Wagner comma Kurt, of Wagner Enterprises Global. Recognize the face now?" No? Eh, whatever. With a dismissive wave the blade goes back into hiding beneath the table once more. "Sooo..how much of a reward are we looking at here? Thirty grand? Fifty?"

Listening and nodding along, his part of the story isn't much at all. And he took to his shake before it thawed, so he had to struggle in that department. What's left is good for fries though, or a spoon. He tries not to use his tail, but it lets him hold the spoon off the table while using fingers for other things, like burger.

"Ya, that's me, I can't hide from it. More like I own it." Grinning to Domino, "Literally, get it … I own it." He chuckles, he might be alone in that chuckle. "Yep, CEO and all that good stuff. If we could cut some paperwork, can we give my cut to my fine friend here." He indicates Domino, leaves her name out.

"Not like I need it, and besides, if I start taking rewards for bounty hunting or something, the directors might not like me being all public and stuff. Most of them think I'm still doing the circus thing."

"You're gonna poke an eye out with that thing," Clint nods in the direction of the knife. "And the burgers cut with plastic knives, not that I'd use one." Though, he's not stupid.

Barton stares for a long moment at Domino and offers a tight smile once again. "You know, so quick to sell someone else out without giving your name." A laugh sounds and he looks to Kurt once again. They say there's truth to be gained in lies, and he's working through some of those right now. Circus. Kurt Wagner. He's not sure about the 'Wagner Enterprises Global', but he'll do some research there as well. That's what the job calls for- or rather, those guys in R&D. "And you're actually gonna let her?"

Now, Clint sits back in his seat and stares at the two, his sunglasses never having left his face. Arms cross before him and he shakes his head. "It's not reward money. And it's dependant upon what still needs to be done. They're scurrrying around like roaches and they don't even know what they're doing. So, I have to wait, get a read and follow their communications. I'll be able to set prices later." Probably not what Domino, at least, wants to hear.

"Yeah, you own it, name's right on there and everything, we get it," Domino sighs with a light roll of her eyes. (This guy's nuts.) Oh - hold up, now… Blueguy's offering to give his part of a reward to her? "Good kind of weird," she finally confirms from the previously voiced question. Heck, this could be (another) lucky day for her, after all.

Back to Hawkeye her expression blanks out save for a look of mock innocence in her eyes. "I have no idea what you're talking about." What knife! When he starts talking about Kurt again she rolls her shoulders and quickly says "He's already a sell-out."

Next she gets to defend herself. "Hey hey, hang on here. I'm just a concerned citizen that got caught in the crossfire, here. Kurt knows I'm a decent sort." She says with honed steel in hand. Which she's now using to clean under one of her fingernails.

No reward money? Fine with her. She isn't getting 'rewarded' for gunning people down, either. Call it what you will, cash for info all spends the same. So long as there -is- going to be some format of cash…

The blade swings down from her fingertips until just the tip thunks against the table. The wind..-right- out of her sails. "-What,-" she flatly demands. "You cheap sonuvabitch…"

With practiced, and exaggerated, motions she slips the blade back into hiding along one of her forearms, hidden beneath the buttoned sleeve of her shirt, without taking her stare off of the SHIELD agent. "Crash the party, throw your badge around, -and- waste my time. Good to know the Division still has my best interests in mind," she reviles while standing up out of her chair.

She's just going to take her leave now, thank you.

Nodding right along, Kurt throws in after Domino finishes, "Indeed, the upstanding sort of citizen that accidently punches russian chinese mexican mafia types that harass them." He got confused on which mafia was doing what with some guns or something. "The sort that likes to help when they know they're getting paid I fear." Then he slaps the table too, "Meine güte! This topic has devolved some hasn't it." He stands up too then, cause Domino did it. He takes his remaining malt though, with his tail. "I appreciate the help we may provide your SHIELD, Herr Barton," (hopefully the badge had his name on it. "But it seems within the bound of international laws, mein fruend here." Domino, "Was the victim of circumstance and has provided you with what she knows. I believe her case is made and in light of a lack or remunerations payable to her party, she has little else to say." Which is just a bunch of words, he's standing up in case they need to do that disappearing trick like they did last time.

'Still has my best interests in mind' Looks like the burger is going to be both lunch and dinner. Great.

Clint doesn't try to stop her. He can't put a value to a job when he doesn't know what the job -is- yet. Give him a day, two days, he can put cash to work, but sitting in this burger joint? No way. Never came armed to be able to spend that sort of cash, and he's not yet ready to stick his neck out on her. On them.

Instead, Clint watches as she rises to her feet in indignation and fury, his expression even. "My guess is, you'll be able to find me when you're done being mad." SHIELD. Barton.

Brows rise as he turns his face slightly to watch Herr Wagner rise. "What are you saying?" He sounds a little puzzled at the jumble of english words with a german accent. "You're a lawyer now?" Who else talks without saying anything of substance?

Clint exhales and doesn't move from his spot, fully expecting the pair to depart in whatever manner they choose. "I'm sure I'll be hearing from one or both of you soon."

"Had. It. Coming," Domino repeats with emphasis when Kurt mentions her face punching solution. That he also comes to her defense..of a sort, and is willing to help teleport her out? "You're not half bad, elf."

Barton's given one last lingering stare. "Don't expect me to ring the doorbell." Ever.

Not that there aren't lots of inventive alternate methods to get the archer's attention, should she want to.

"International law and political sciences go hand in hand, you'll find it on my graduate doctorate when you do the research good sir." Kurt grins to Domino, that's a real thing then, the education even. "Thanks, not-a-ghost-chen!" With that, if there's nothing left to be said. He leaves, or bamfs, or both.

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