JLA Watchtower (Archive)

Yawn. Yaaaaaaaaaaaaawn Yawn. Yawn, yawn. That's what the ace reporter is doing on her way into Cheney's Bar, that and reading her Blackberry. She wanders to a table, flops down, puts her laptop case in front of her, and looks around for someone to bring her something to drink.

From:

saw-bones.livejournal.com

Sitting at the bar is an eerie looking figure in a trenchcoat, keeping his wide-brimmed hat on for the sake of others.

Astute observers will still manage to notice the skull face, despite the lighting.

From:

A few minutes later Grace wanders over to her table and looks down at the laptop case with an amused look on her face.

"Miss Lane, I wouldn't have pegged you as the type to go slummin' in a place like this."

From:

"I wouldn't have pegged you as someone who'd be surprised at a reporter showing up anywhere, Miss Choi," counters Lois with a wan smile. "I'd like the biggest coffee you can find...and throw something in it, like Irish Cream, if you like."

Her gaze heads toward the others scattered around, those she recognizes. "Seems like an interesting place to be tonight, huh."

From:

"Can do, Miss Lane." Grace steps back up to the bar and gives quick directions to the other bartender, and then waits for the steaming mug of coffee to be brought to her.

Once filled, she brings the mug over to Lois and sets it down, handle turned towards the woman.

"Most nights, it can get this interestin', or even more so. I'm not here as much as I used to be, what with bein' on Infinity, but from the stories I've heard, things have stayed colorful and unique."

From:

"So I've heard," Lois drawls dryly, glancing toward the unwanted man at the bar and then the two heroines nearby. "What's he doing here?" she adds, nodding at Mirror Master.

From:

metromarvel.livejournal.com

Clark Kent stumbles into the building, which is perhaps the least Clark Kentish establishment in the city. He ignores the sudden urge to punch the Mirror Master in the throat, or ask Black Canary why the hell she's having drinks with her arch-enemy and if she'll be there the next time Shiva decides to stalk and torture one of Bruce's kids out of some vague maternal instinct. This is Superman's business, and Superman can't be Clark Kent, mild mannered reporter.

Speaking of which. "Oh, excuse me!" Clark exclaims as he trips over someone's foot, stumbling forward, slamming into the bar, and sending a flaming shot flying into the air, where it flips around and around until it falls on someone's head.

"Hey!" Atomic Skull shouts, shaking a fist.

"S-sorry." Clark Kent wheezes, looking terrified.

From:

Lois hasn't even seen his entrance, but she knows the sound of it. Her mouth quirks briefly, then she smooths the expression to a slight frown and peers around at her husband. "Clark, I'm over here."

She loves this man.

From:

metromarvel.livejournal.com

Frowning? Well, she doesn't have to pant or anything when he comes in the room, Clark reminds himself, adjusting his tie a little and dragging himself to his feet. "Hi, Lois."

"Miss, uh, Grace." Kind of awkward, being at someone's bar when you wrote angry words about how Lex Luthor was using her super-team to further his mad agenda for the world.

From:

"Golly, Smallville," Lois intones with a twinkle in her eye, "you act like you've never been in a bar full of people we've dissed in print. Want something to drink?"

From:

The newcomer to the bar gets a once-over and Grace's lips quirk up in a smile.

"Well, well. Two unexpected folks all in one night. Is somethin' gonna happen here that I should know about?"

From:

metromarvel.livejournal.com

Hey, no fair stealing my folksy lingo, Clark thinks via glance at Lois, smiling a little himself. He covers her hand with his own, squeezing softly.

"Nothing on purpose, ma'am." Clark offers, a little milquetoasty but less outright nervous.

From:

One little squeeze says so much. Lois returns the gesture and then nods toward the bar. "I'd say you'd want to ask him that," she tells Grace, clearly meaning Mirror Master.

From:

Mirror Master sits in a corner counting the money made from his most recent scheme. He'd be more worried about encountering some familiar faces here if he wasn't at at a table with a reflective surface that he could happily sink into if it came to it.

"Barkeep? Give me two Bluebirds. Ah'm expectin' someone to sit at this table wi' me, but ah'm not sure who yet." He keeps his eyes on the cash.

From:

A large hand slams down on the table, sending a small crack along one side.

"You've got some nerve showing back up here, you little piece of shit."

From:

"Now, now. Tha' ain't no way to talk to a payin' customer." He smirks at Grace, and flashes some of his cash.

"And as a gesture of goodwill, consider the table yeh just broke, paid for." He smiles even wider.

From:

Her returning smile is more of a grimace, teeth bared.

"Be sure to stay on my good side tonight, sweetheart. I will relish the chance to throw you out on your ass."

From:

nynecrymes.livejournal.com

"Now why would you go and do that, Gracie?" A hand rests on her shoulder, before its owner sits down at the table. "The man's just here for a nice quiet drink. And an explanation."

He turns his focus to Mirror Master. "By the way, your money's no good here. Put it away and talk fast."

From:

"Oh, his money's perfectly good." A quick move with one hand and the cash is swept off the table.

From:

Mirror Master doesn't move as his money goes flying, but does clench his teeth. That cash was hard-earned, and a Scotsman likes his money where he can see it; not spread over a cheap bar.

"Yeh're both lucky ah'm in a good mood, and tha' ah already copied all o' it. Some a' yeh backwards Americans donni' seem to notice when Georgie Washington's face is on a note backwards." He moves a hand to one of his guns. "So wha' does Piss in Boots want wi' me?"

From:

nynecrymes.livejournal.com

"Just answers. Relax, this isn't a personal visit. I've got more business with the bitch, than her gun." He gives a sideways glance to the mirror weapon.

"and if I was after you? My friend, you'd never see it coming. But, onto business...I want the tech. There's reasons and uses that it can be adapted for. Not to worry either, you'll be compensated quite well, and without a receipt or any sort of track to it. My markers are damned good these days."

Catman sits forward, clasping his fingers together. "So...can I tempt you?"

From:

If McCulloch is intimidated by Blake, he doesn't show it. To him, Catman is just one of those washed-up Gotham villains. "Yeh think ma mirror technology can jus' be bought? Listen pal, there's a reason there's only one Mirror Master runnin' aroond. Ah'm not sellin' anything."

He taps the gun at his side. "Sayin' tha'? If yeh really need to use it, ma services can be purchased. Ah'm the only one with the knowhow ta use it, so if yeh need it, ah'm your man."

From:

nynecrymes.livejournal.com

"You're assuming that I want to work with you here. You're a Keystone man, McCulloch. And I know that you boys like to stick with your own." Blake's favorite, a White Russian, is brought over shortly after.

"But say a man like me was looking for a one-time edge, or an illusion just for very low-usage. Could you be the well purchased man I'm looking for to provide it?"

From:

"White Russian, eh? Well, stands to reason that yeh like sommit' akin to a saucer a' milk..." He rubs his chin in thought.

"Yeah, okay. Ah think ah can get you a one-shot mirror device, which'll bring into this world a double of your good self, who should be easy enough ta control. If yeh're actually thinkin' of a series of fake Catmen, well, the option is there to hire me."

He has a drink of his Bluebird, and puts the glass back on the table. "Shall we say $25K for somethin' wee and disposable?"

From:

"Scotch on the rocks please."

A tall blonde in fishnets is at the bar, a wide grin on face.

The Black Canary's in a pretty good mood tonight.

Hey, after spending a week undercover for Oracle to bust a major drug dealing ring that had been running out of Metropolis and making its way into Gotham? She deserves to treat herself a little.

From:

"For you, gorgeous, anything." Grace can't stop from checking out those long gorgeous legs, shaking her head after a moment and focusing on pouring the drink.

"What's got that happy smile on your face?"

From:

"Thanks," Black Canary takes a sip, leaning forward on her stool.

"Nothing too out of the ordinary," the smile on her face is still there, "A job well done, everything gone over all nice and smoothly with no annoying loose ends to tie up. You know how it is."

From:

Vaulting over the railing, Shiva lands sitting on a stool next to Canary as if she'd been there the whole time. Her hands fold over each other on the bar in front of her.

From:

Noticing Shiva land next to her out of the corner of her eye, Black Canary doesn't say anything. Rather she just takes a sip of her drink, acting as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

"I didn't think this was your type of place."

From:

There is a faint lift of a shoulder and a soft chuff of air that might be a laugh coming from Shiva. "The company is good."

From:

A faint smirk rests on Dinah's lips. "Glad I could help."

From:

"I was speaking of her."

Shiva inclines her head toward Grace. Hard to tell if Shiva's joking or not - nothing new there.

From:

A hoot of laughter, and Grace waves a hand in Shiva's general direction.

"She's just sweet-talkin' me, Canary. Hopin' I'll finally bend and ask her out on a date."

Grace has what could only be described as a shit-eating grin on her face with this statement.

From:

There is another chuff from Shiva, this one a little more like a scoff instead of a laugh. "Of course. We are waiting for you to bend, Grace. As if you have not bedded most of the patrons in your establishment."

From:

A snicker escapes Dinah's lips. "Hey, what a girl does in the bedroom is her own business, unless she chooses to share it with us."

From:

Grace puts one hand on her chest in mock-horror.

"Shiva, you wound me. It's probably more like..." She actually takes a moment to look around at who is actually there.

"More like half."

From:

There is another soft sound from Shiva at that comment. She's not scoffing at Grace. Not at all.

From:

"Least she's honest," Dinah says, smirking as she takes another sip of her drink.

From: