An Eye for Talent
Roleplaying Log: An Eye for Talent
Participants
IC Details
Synopsis:

Sneaking out of the Monday Night Fight, Lena Zelle has a business opportunity for Domino.

Other Characters Referenced: Joker (Not by Name), Deadpool
IC Date: July 01, 2019
IC Location: The Punchline, Gotham
OOC Notes & Details
Posted On: 03 Jul 2019 05:11
Rating & Warnings: PG
NPC & GM Credits:
Associated Plots

The fight is still in full swing.

But Lena, once she has Domino in tow, simply smiles, turns, and leads the mutant away from the fight with her gently swaying step and her champagne flute held aloft like a light. She leads through a Murphy door, to a wine cellar, and then upstairs into the empty club that is the public face of The Punchline.

She doesn't say anything at all, but instead makes her way towards the bar. She gets behind it, and then drapes her immaculately manicured hands upon the rich wood of the counter. "Care to join me in a drink?" she asks, her voice a seductress's murmur.


This can't possibly end badly, right? Lena is easily picked out in the crowd, as dark as she is. Maybe not in a 'sight for sore eyes' way but definitely a sight worth beholding. "You're looking sinful tonight, Davidson."

With everyone else seemingly well occupied by the main event the overall threat level here seems fairly low, though still highly suspect. The albino is memorizing the path which Lena takes but the end location isn't some dingy room with a single light and a single chair poised over a blood-stained grate in the floor.

It's a bar. THE bar. And that's just fine by Domino.

"Silly question," she replies with a thin black smirk while taking a seat across from the counter. She -seems- relaxed enough… "Whiskey, Scotch, I'm not picky. But I'm sure you didn't go through all of this trouble for an impulsive date night."


Domino rolls the name out, and the brunette at the bar lifts her pale eyes to take her in. "Zelle," she quietly insists in that unfamiliar accent and tone, even as she pulls out an snifter and starts to pour out a measure of scotch. One finger, two fingers, three. "And thank you," she offers to the compliment as she slides the drink over. "But no. Not a date night."

She picks up her own glass, that champagne with its richly red raspberries, and takes another sip. She looks at the little purple lipstick mark on the rim, considering it in the light with a languid turn of her wrist as her dark hair spills over her one base shoulder. "I rather wanted to know if you were interested in a business opportunity."


At the request to keep appearances up Domino lifts both of her palms away from the counter. Fair enough. She's not exactly in a position to give Lena a hard time about names considering she's practically buried her own over the years.

As the scotch is prepared the pale woman keeps a subtle eye on its progression. Once again everything appears to be on the level. Just from what she's seen over the last ten minutes her wariness in dealing with this building as a whole has gone up by several degrees. If that really had been Rocket back there the poor guy looked rather miserable.

Though that could also be a karma punch considering the fuzzy little guy -did- try to steal Dom's car not too long ago. Luck works in mysterious ways.

Then Lena speaks the magic words: Business opportunity. One of Whitey's brows notches upward slightly as she regards the tricky champagne-wielding woman. It seems that her merc reputation has been discovered, though Lena did seem to be the resourceful type.

"I'm listening. What's the gig?"


"Talent scout," Lena!Harley says as her smile crooks up with a restrained puckishness, although she leans forward with a decided familiarity and her voice stays low once the stopper is put back on the good scotch. "We need fresh blood for downstairs every week, and word of mouth only goes so far sometimes. You find someone to fight, and there's a cut of the take for you for every body you bring in."

It looks on the up and up because it is, at least so far as the drink is concerned.


Hmm.

This offer poses a peculiar set of concerns for Domino. It's a silly thing, really. Want someone dead? No problem. Want someone interrogated for valuable information? Can do. But luring people into a murderous cage fight without them knowing what they're signing up for in advance? That's..a little more twisted. At least straight-up murder is honest work.

The glass of scotch is gently rolled around in her fingertips as she looks straight back at Lena, almost as if she's trying to read the other woman's bluff over a game of cards. She'd have to reach deeper into the barrel of shady contacts to fulfill these requirements without hitting the ol' conscience too hard.

The glass comes up and the albino takes the first drink. "I might be able to do you one better. Every fight needs its hero, right? A repeat performer, a known quantity that people can call on by name and place their bets on. They can bring the comedy, put on a good show, exercise some proper amounts of violence, and the real kicker?" This point is left hanging long enough for that dark smirk of hers to grow.

"They can't be killed."

"Cut us both in on the profits and I'll bring you the gift that'll keep on giving. You won't even have to provide any encouragement."


"Hmmmm."

This turn in the conversation now brings a particular conundrum to "Lena's" equation. Particularly, in that Harley Quinn can put to her mind right quick a certain Deadpool who fits that description and immediately think of a dozen reasons as to why inviting him here on a regular basis is a terrible idea. "Lena Zelle" cannot.

Appearances, appearances, appearances.

The brunette drains her champagne glass dry, and then goes to fetch a bottle of moscato d'asti to pour a fresh round of booze for herself.

As she does this, she thinks. After she's done pouring, she has her thought.

"I can't really guarantee the encores," she says. "My partner and I have an agreement. I get the upstairs…" A hand elegantly sweeps around the bar and indicates the stairs leading up to the second story. "And he gets his little man den."

"Besides, sometimes the dying is the very best part." There's a rapid clucking of Zelle's tongue, and then her eyes roll upwards. "Tell you what. We'll up the ante. Bring whoever you want in, however you want. We'll bet the profits. They survive, you get a better cut. They die, you get the standard. Or would you rather the other way around? Your undying hero can get a try, but no promise on round two." Purple lips curl up with a distinct wickedness. "I mean, I can be flexible," she says, the word ripe with multiple meanings. "But the man downstairs needs his show, and I mean to make certain that he has one. I want him happy."


It isn't the home run that Domino had been hoping for. There might still be something to come out of the arrangement with none other than Deadpool. That Lenarley already knows the guy is not something which the albino knows. Not that it'd be terribly surprising, they're both running a circus.

Lena's 'partner' is a curious one. Dom's heard rumors and all about the really REALLY dark side of Gotham. That Showman on the PA was probably said partner, and the pieces all fit together a little -too- nicely. The Joker is more than a rumor. He's an uncomfortable legend.

Maybe Neena's getting starting to get cold feet. This is NOT the kind of situation any sane person would WANT to be caught up in. But, given Dom's line of work? Having these kinds of highly questionable connections can actually help out in some unlikely ways. A potential 'get out of jail free' card which may or may not come at some manner of cost.

Sometimes you just have to work the system and it's not always a pleasant experience.

"No metahuman requirement?" is her next question. If Lena's after -anyone- to get shoved into the meat grinder then Neena's job will be much easier. She can find plenty of corrupt fools to chuck into such a demented trial by fire.

Another sip of scotch has the albino gently bobbing her head in thought. "I'm sure I can scare up some contenders. As for Mister Invincible, I'll see where his head's at. Maybe something'll come out of it, maybe not." No harm in trying, right?

At least not for Neena.


"Better pricing for the metas, but not explicitly required. After all…" The artful stream of moscato is high and sets an unprofessional measure of foam at the top. Harleen Quinzel - Harley Quinn and Lena Zelle - then restoppers the bottle and then fishes some that foam out with her fingertip to make a small show of sucking it clean, eyes closed to savor it.

"Blood is blood. It stains the floor all the same."


This is the point in their conversation where Domino is glad to have other forms of income. Other -steady- forms of income. If this is all she had to work with? It would be rough. This here is more of a side gig, something to run in the background over an extended period of time for those slow days or when the stars happen to align. As it is she'll have to go with the lower paying offers as there's just no way she could start trucking metas into this scene. Not unless they knew all of the details and -wanted- to get involved.

Like..say..with Deadpool. He should be an easy sell, too!

Lena's remark about blood all staining the same is spoken for truth, Dom nods once without any hint of regret. The more uncomfortable part comes in what she has to lay out next.

"Here's my bottom line. I'll help feed your beast but I won't run this full time." Just so Lena and her demented partner aren't counting on Domino to deliver all of the fighters for all of the matches. She doesn't want to end up being thrown back into the ring because of this. Not at the rate the stakes keep getting raised!

"If that's good with you then we're in business."


Lena listens, and then simply extends her slender right hand for a shake, the enormous onyx cocktail ring on it glittering as it catches the light just so. "It'll be a pleasure, I'm certain."

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