Summary:After battle meetup at Luke's, drinks all around Log Info:Storyteller: None |
Related LogsTheme SongNone |
     |
Jessica Jones got an early start on the drinking, already two shots in. It's like she's magnetically attracted to booze. She's retrieved her leather jacket and made sure Luke was alive and functioning before she went and started her nightly sousing.
"Now for the beer," she says, taking a long sip from a longneck bottle, wondering when the other battle veterans will arrive. Regardless, Jessica's always got a head start when it comes to boozing. Her secret, Captain? She's almost always a little drunk.
A quiet sound from outside signals the arrival of Spider-Girl; given the situation, she's opted not to change back into the reality that is Anya Corazon, bartender at Luke's. She pushes the door open and walks in, a sack filled with food under arm. Tacos, by the smell of it, garnered from a street on the other side of Marcus Garvey Park. Might explain her delay on arrival.
Looking around the bar, she begrudgingly makes for the stool next to Jessica, dropping the bag on the bar without any sort of glory or flair. She seems visibly exhausted.
"Tacos," she says, indicating the bag with a short nod of her head. Then, a black webline shoots forth and grabs a bottle of Espolon from behind the bar. It soars into her hand, and she pops the top without preamble, taking a drink straight from the bottle before tucking it against her chest.
Mine.
Luke has seen better days. Having a building dropped on you after being hurled like a discus by a Minotaur does wonders for your mood. The now conscious bartender storms into the bar through the front door, tearing off what remains of his suit jacket and shirt and tossing them into the bin behind the bar, leaving him in a dirty undershirt. "Damn it, I HAVE NEVER BEEN SO FUCKING HUMILIATED. Taken out by a overgrown cow…"
Luke storms past the customers at the bar and instead of walking around behind it, he just puts his palm on the top and vaults the bar to start pouring himself a beer. "Spider-girl, Person drinking for free…what's your name again?"
It takes a bit for Spider-Man to show up; he didn't get any shots of the fighting this time, but he *did* linger on a nearby rooftop long enough to get some photos of the damage, and of the heroes who stuck around to deal with more of the aftermath than he did.
Then he headed for Harlem, and after thwarting a couple of young goons who thought the bogeda's register would fill their wallets (spoiler: it didn't), the hero in red-and-blue makes his way into Luke's, glancing around for familiar faces besides those who were at the bank fight.
"Feels kinda silly to bring food to a restaurant," Spidey admits, "but I didn't know if you'd feel like cooking. Or if your other cook was in." His haul consists of about a dozen different subs, a few bottles of juice (nonalcoholic), and a small pile of brownies and cookies.
"Anyway. Hi, I'm Spider-Man, friendly neighborhood wall-crawler, pain in the butt to myriad ne'er-do-wells all across the Big Apple." He perches on a stool, flips a jaunty little wave to Luke and Jessica, and after lifting the bottom edge of his mask to reveal his mouth and chin, webs a brownie over to unwrap and start nibbling on.
Jessica Jones looks over bleary-eyed at Anya, "Tacos, huh? Are you hitting on me? Cause if you are, well…okay, maybe but, like, I have to get a lot more drunk first, so just put a tab in that particular line of thought for now," she says. "All things in their proper time and fucking place, huh, big guy? You still got any boo boos or are you one of those indestructible badasses?" she says.
Then Spider-Man's just there and she shakes her head, "Fuck, this is so god damn surreal. I used to be a superhero, y'know, and I realize now that it was fucking weird and I was fucking weird and what the fuck was I fucking thinking? But, y'know, cheers and shit, Spider-Man. Anobdy who pisses off Jameson is okay by me."
Watching Luke come in, Spider-Girl's attention seems to move from Luke, to the swear jar, then back to Luke again. She figures, Pops would give him a break on this one, so she says nothing. On occasion, she does have tact.
"You did keep a huge bank from collapsing," she points out. "With your face." Fingers snap and point toward Luke. "Could say that's more bad-ass than, like, anything we did, hombre."
The bottle of tequila is uncurled and drank from again. There's still an overwhelming 'mine'-ness about her demeanor; it'll take the whole bottle to really make up for the cracked ribs that are stabbing into her midsection right now, and she doesn't try to hide the grimace that motion makes. This is a safe space, after all.
The weariness is broken by a look toward Jessica, followed by a sublime curl of exposed lips. "Try 'em," the masked Latina suggests. "Might change your song, sister." Her masked face remains pointed in Jessica's direction for a moment; those bulbous eye-patches make it impossible to know just what she's looking at.
Her attention then turns toward her partner in arachnidia, and her smirk turns into a grin. "They're home made," she says of the brownies. "Not by him." The tone of her voice suggests this might be a good thing.
"You alright there, Spidey?" she asks. "Pretty sure Jimmy Dean cracked a couple of my ribs." She then looks away, and eyes Luke with a look of mock shock. "Dude. I can do puns."
Luke Cage says, "Jimmy Dean is pork, not beef. At least the good shit is pork, maybe they have beef. I don't know. At this point I don't care. " Luke says and take a sip of his beer. He eye the taco, and makes a move to reach into the bag to grab one. "Sure, I'll try your taco." he says with a smirk, eyeing the Latinx he knows is behind that mask and knowing her jokes and innuendo can be far worse.
"Is that why my face hurts? I had a building in it? Shit, at least I was somewhat useful. Please tell me nobody got photos of that. Talk about embarrassing…""
Spider-Man smirks wryly at Jessica, and retrieves a bottle of juice just so he can salute her with it. "Sorry for not joining you in booze," he says dryly. "Old habits. And you're learning well," he salutes Spider-Girl with the juice bottle. "The student might not surpass the master, but she's making great strides."
"As for photos …" The hero in red-and-blue looks at Luke, "Not sure if anyone caught it. I wasn't looking for cameras during the rodeo, and you seemed pretty well freed up before I *did* see any shutters flipping. The papers'll probably be okay, but you never know who tossed a stream on Instagram or YouTube." He takes another bite of his brownie.
"I wonder what all the bad guys took. The minotaurs were muscle, obviously. I think those elves were the masterminds - maybe the ones behind the portals, but I'd be surprised."
Jessica Jones blinks for a moment, "Oh, I thought you meant Jimmy Dean like James Dean and I was like whoa shit is James Dean alive now? Because I just saw minotaurs so, like, I wouldn't be entirely shocked about it."
She drains her beer and gets another shot, "And a long island iced tea."
"Don't worry, big guy, I'm sure the paps were way more interest in Captain Spiderpants over there. He's good and garish. The headlines like costumes, unless you're famous."
There's definitely not an Instagram post by some rando with a photo of Luke's face holding up a load bearing column, with a 'like' by one @anyacorinatrix with a comment of 'OUCH' on it. Nope. Definitely not. Where is Anya's cell phone? Oh yeah, webbed to her spider-drone that's hovering in patrol mode outside. Secret's safe.
"In your wildest dreams, Black Bruce Willis," she quips, before gesturing to the bag full of street meat. "Just save me some, or I'll get all hangry and shit."
Spider-Man's cut back earns an expression that suggests, from what little of her face is actually visible, that she approves of his counter-sass. "Can't put up against the O.G.," she tells him approvingly, and lifts her gla- bottle of tequila in a mock toast.
"He is famous," she tells Jessica, before hooking her toes around the bar stool and leaning back a bit. It doesn't look entirely comfortable, but, as she twists her torso a little, there comes the sound of a gruesome crack from beneath her spandex. "… Christ! That's… actually better." Still, it hurt like hell. The tequila is raised and chugged for a moment; maybe she'll actually feel something beyond the burning of her esophagus.
When she speaks again, her voice sounds a bit hoarse. "It's magic stuff," she offers. "Like, actual real magic. Like if Harry Potter was real. I know, it sounds loco, but here's the thing." She leans an elbow on the bar, looking between the three who were with her at the showdown. "Lot of things we call 'science' today used to be called magic. Arcane. Witchcraft. Whatever. Maybe there's something spiritual about it, maybe it's just a form of science we don't understand yet. But it's real. No one slipped acid into the drinking water. They took something important. Which reminds me." She turns away, and her left hand begins to dance around in the air, as if she were texting… but there's no phone.
Luke Cage says, "I am not famous," Luke says with a sigh. "I'm just a bar owner, and if you are talking that accidental streaming at the fire, that doesn't count."
Chuging a.good portion of the beer, Luke wipes his mouth with the back of his hand then brings the taco to his lips, taking a bite and chewing. "Damn girl, this is good!""
There's a good-natured grimace from Spider-Man at Jessica's comments - but hey, he's all about protecting the innocent. If that means protecting innocently heroic supers from unwanted publicity … ehh, there are worse reasons to get named and flamed in the tabloids.
"So is that tequila actually any good as a painkiller?" Spidey wonders. "Del Toro took me square in the ribs, I did a little first-aid before coming over but they still hurt." 'First aid' in this case meaning bandaging his own ribs - a very attentive look at his torso would reveal the slight bulge under his snugly-fitted costume - and presumably a good dose of heavy-duty painkillers. But when you're dealing with ribs that almost got broken, sometimes that's not enough.
For now, Spidey finishes his brownie, looks between the subs and the tacos, and goes to fetch some of the latter. Spider-Girl's air-typing doesn't seem to warrant calling attention to it … plus, he knows what she's doing. Sort of.
Zatanna had a show to do after the incident. And as Zee always says, the show must go on - so it did. When Anya's text comes in, she'd just finished up and was organising things with her manager.
It's not too long after that text, the dark haired mage appears in the alley outside Lukes. When she walks through the door, she's in black leather pants, a bustier style top and leather jacket - her long dark hair falling around her shoulders. "If you drink enough of it, yes." she answers Spider-Man as she makes her way to the table. "It will also make you forget most other things… " The grin might be slightly infectious "But if you'll allow me, I might be able to do one better. Oh, I'm Zee by the way …"
She gives Anya a wink. "I don't suppose there's a chance of getting a whiskey is there?" she asks Luke.
"Best outta Spanish Harlem," Spider-Girl tells Luke with a grin. She's glad he approves.
"I texted Zee," she remarks. "Don't be surprised if she, like…" Shows up really fast? Anya looks to see the woman entering, and a grin shows on her face.
As for the tequila, she eyes the bottle, then Spider-Man. "Might even put some hair on your chest, too," she adds to Zatanna's observation. Her possessive nature of the bottle fades, and she gently pushes it away from her fingertips. If this is the moment Peter Parker starts drinking, well… he's gonna have to take the bottle himself. She may be a rough girl who grew up in a rough neighborhood, but she's not about just hand the bottle over to him.
Her attention shifts back to Jessica for a moment. Behind the mask, a curiosity is growing, but it's partly concealed. She considers asking a question, but seems to reconsider. Another time, perhaps, the chick just ordered a Long Island, and that can only mean one thing. No serious conversations.
Luke glances over at Zee when she enters and looks between her and Anya. The fact that there are a few costumed people here doesn't seem to phase the magician so Luke shrugs one of his bare shoulders and nods. "One whiskey, coming up." Luke says as he turns around and grabs a bottle off the shelf and slaps it in front of Zee. "No charge, I'm not in the mood to deal with bills tonight."
Luke then goes to make a Long Island, sliding the glass in front of Jessica. "Here."
Luke grabs another taco from the bag and stuffs it into his mouth, "This is turning into an interesting week. First Captain Marvel, now you spider folks. And here I was at the bank trying to get a loan to reenforce this place…seems to be a good idea."
Spider-Man winces a bit at Zatanna's explanation of what tequila could do in adequate quantities. There are *reasons* why he doesn't drink, and she just tagged one of the bigger ones. "I'll take the magical painkillers, thanks." He shrugs at Anya.
"So Zee, what *did* the bad guys take that somebody had left in a safe deposit box at one of the ritzier, better-heeled banks in the Financial District? I saw an empty box, and considering how much trouble was gallumphing around, I can't imagine they were all decoys except that one …"
"Thank you." Of course Zee isn't phased by the costumes. She's 'on call' to many of the teams and grew up with a lot of them really. Jessica gets a look as she lapses to silence, Zee had seen some of that fight. The woman was a tank.
When Luke isn't watching, the magician slips a crisp $50 in the tip jar. If Luke doesn't take it, the staff can split it.
"One magical heal coming up then. It will hurt, but only for a little bit." There's a wink at the blue and red suited hero, as the magicians eyes glow bright blue and azure energy dances about her hands. Murmuring some unintelligible words, that magic responds to her command and forms arcane symbols that float about Spider-Man and settle on him. She was right, it stings and it hurts as ribs and muscles mend. When it's over she just smiles a bit. "Take it easy for a day and you'll be good."
"That's a good question, Spider-Man and one I don't know the answer to. An artifact, magical one but what? I need to see the records from the bank." Which is a problem - the bank might not want to give them out and even if they do, the owner will need to be contacted. "But I do know the dark elves are looking for … things … that will aid in a war they want to wage."
"Yay, Capitalism." The sarcasm is thick with this one; Spider-Girl withdraws the tequila into her clutches again, after responding to Luke's admission of going for a bank loan. She could hack the SBA database but… nah, that would actually be unethical.
Some of the patrons kick rocks when things finally get a little too weird. Arcane symbols and all; Luke might actually be thankful for that tip.
Anya just looks on, watching; her cracked ribs still smart quite a bit, but something else has grappled hold of her ADD brain.
"Bank records, huh?" she muses aloud, and visibly bites her lip for a moment. It's one thing to hack the SBA database to do your boss a favor. It's something entirely different to circumvent the legal system and commit a felony, if it's for the greater good and saving lives. She doesn't admit to it, but odds are, hacking the bank database to create a discretion in the safe deposit box records with a notation that Loss Prevention has approved a title change on the official box record based on digitally scanned records and a discrepancy with the paper records… after all, digital records always win that battle.
No need to admit openly what her plans are. It'll be a hell of a lot easier than hacking the NSA database, which she did when she was sixteen.
Anya quietly drinks more tequila, but for those who know her, the silence is telling.
Luke knows that silence. He shifts his gaze over towards his quiet server, one brow raised in an arch as he looks past those white bug eyes and finds the eyes behind them, or a close proximity to them anyway. The large black man quietly folds his arms over his chest and clears his throat. He doesn't say anything, he just gives her that look and then turns from her in a gesture that seems to covey that they will talk later.
Luke quaffs more of his beer and turns to the other heroes in the bar. "So, Spider-Man, I head you liked the food here? Hod does make a mean rack of ribs. If you hadn't brought an entire buffet I would have offered to fire some up. Maybe next time?"
He turns to Zee, "You can't magically give my my sense of dignity back, can you?"
"You think this city gives me one day to rest up?" Spider-Man jokes mildly to Zatanna. "But I'll try to exercise some discretion in picking my fights. If worse comes to worst, I can call in a couple of favors - or helpers."
He tilts his head at Anya for a moment - and he does have a very good guess at what she's thinking. Honestly, he had the same idea, and he's halfway to suggesting it … but if time will permit them to do this without bending, or outright breaking, bank privacy laws? "Hopefully we can - hopefully, *you*," he corrects himself, looking back at Zatanna, "can get the info through legal channels in time to thwart whatever these friendly strangers from out of this world are planning on."
She's the expert here, after all. "But if it turns out you can't wait for everything to be aboveboard … eh, let us know what you do find out. I don't like it when people out of town drop in and wreck stuff; we get enough of that from the more foul-tempered locals as it is."
He finishes his taco, as well as that bottle of juice he'd snagged earlier, and gives Luke a wry grin before pulling his mask down over his face once again. "My man, you took a *structural support* pillar to the everything, and you lived through it without even a concussion. I think your dignity is buttressed by being that awesome; *I* wouldn't be on my feet this fast if that'd happened to *me*. As for the buffet - call it a gamble, I wasn't sure you'd want to cook."
He shrugs good-naturedly. "I'll get ribs next time, even if you don't know it's me. I try to keep my identity a secret … although Hod's got a lead on me."
"Discretion will do, but it will still hurt. I can do the mending but … you know." She says to Peter.
"Mmmhmm. Bank records. We can guess what was in that box that was taken, but it will be a guess. I have people who can track it and they will, but it will take time and Dad always taught me to cover my bases. Besides, I like research." Strange huh? Zee really doesn't look nerdy. "So we need to find out who owned the box and what was in it."
"Once I have some idea, I'll hit my own books and those in certain libraries and see what I can find. Not all things magical are as flashy as my shows." she muses as she sips that whiskey. It's good stuff.
"Unfortunately not. It's Luke, right?" The mage is serious though as she looks at the group "I'm concerned though that you've all been marked. If the Dark Elves or their minions think you're involved, you might have trouble."
Whether they will or not, Zee can't say but …. "So, I've bought you some amulets just in case. If you're in trouble, put a little of your blood on the surface and I'll know. I'll come as quickly as I can." Her phone sounds again as she hands out the little 'buttons' and she sighs as she checks the message. "That's Fenris. He wants to speak …" Because of course he does.
Behind those bug eyes, Anya's eyebrows are rising at Luke. He's got this damned good way of making her feel bad about things she shouldn't feel bad about but probably should feel bad about. Damn it all.
Peter Parker to the rescue. Anya reaches for a taco, finally ready to feed herself and replenish lost strength. The amulet, or course, may prove a but problematic for Luke, but, they can talk about that later, right?
Accepting hers, she tucks it in hand and nods her head. "Better us than some randos," she remarks, then slides off the barstool, taking a moment to look at those gathered.
"Watch your asses," she says, before stuffing the entire taco into her mouth and making for the ladies room.
Luke Cage nods towards the costumed Peter, "You got a point, being unbreakable has its advantages." The bouncer shrugs, "Hod is special. Just because the man is blind doesn't mean he can't see shit…which reminds me I need to call a staff meeting to discuss some things," he mutters while casting a glance over Anya's way. Turning his attention to Zee, Luke smirks. "Blood might be a problem. I don't bleed. At least, not easily. Problem for another time though. For now, I am going to drink enough for me to make bad decisions and pass out, and not necessarily in that order."
"I'll save it for when I really need it," Spider-Man promises as he accepts an amulet. "Hopefully that'll take a while, but like I said, the bad guys never seem big on letting the good guys rest up."
He takes another taco or two for the road, plus a sandwich, then waves jauntily to the others. "You all take care, and Spider-Girl there knows how to contact me if you don't." Not a problem for Zatanna, of course.
"Spit on it then. It just needs bodily fluid." Zee says lightly as Luke shares that information. "Be careful and I'll drop by from time to time to check in."
The dark haired murmurs more unintelligible words, the azure energy wrapping about her hands … and then she's gone. Just like that.