14853/Something to write home about.

Something to write home about.
Date of Scene:	26 March 2023
Location:	The Blue Lady, Fort Joseph
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Lois Lane, Thomas Raith

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Lois Lane has posed:
Lois Lane is back in town. Or, rather, she's out of town when she considers her 'town' is Metropolis, and usually downtown strictly. But it's always nice to get out, about, and follow up on a story that doesn't involve terrorism, gangs with strange high tech weaponry, or the latest Lex Luthor real estate deal or corporate boondoggle.

And it's nice to be able to bang out a quick puff piece about a club. Especially when it's a chance for Lois to let her hair down and doll herself up all at once.

She strides into the club a little less head-on, bullrush intent than she does when she's hunting a story and ready to fight her interview subject. That dark hair is carefully curled and styled into thick, lustrous waves that hang down to cover her shoulders. Because otherwise the dark, shimmering blue dress she wears would leave them uncovered, along with a fair portion of her upper back. The fabric clings to her figure in only the most flattering ways, contrasting the dark, sheer fabric of stockings that highlight those toned legs, and the glossy black heels that add a few inches of height, and a certain pop to her stride.

But for all her effort to dress up and enjoy herself, those eyes are still intent, sweeping as she crosses the club towards the bar. After all, she /is/ here for an interview. Even if it's not a hostile one.

Thomas Raith has posed:
One of the quirks of the Blue Lady is that all of the staff use non-de-plumes of their own. the bouncer who left her in for instance may have been born Gabriel Rodriguez, but due to the pair of military grade tomahawks at his belt he is known as Axe. Likewise the mountain of black muscle that guards the VIP lounge and who is perfectly capable of palming the average man's head is not known as Leroy Brown to anyone but his mother. He is Crush. And even Thomas has his own little name...

The Man is White smiles as he sees the reporter coming in. It's not an overly busy night, but he'd been bored with paperwork and thus had decided to help Yosa... just Yosa... pour drinks. He smirks a little bit as he sees the stunning brunette come in and take a seat. "Of all the gin joints in all the world, yadda yadda yadda... Hello again Lois.

Lois Lane has posed:
Lois's eyes light up with just a bit of mischief as she acts her part, less reporter out for a scoop, and more high class woman out to enjoy some jazz. But she can work a room and ride that line between cool, entitled ease of dealing with 'the staff', and those brief little touches of personal attention, like remembering Axe's nom-de-plume and cracking jokes and flashing little waves to the waitresses.

And she can really turn on the charm for Thomas, lips quirking in a crooked smile, one eyebrow arching as she murmurs dryly, "Oh, god. You don't serve /just/ gin now do you? I'm really more of a single malt joint gal. Or bourbon. Gin just reminds me of Christmas trees most times.... not that I let that stop me from enjoying it of course."

She snorts softly and rolls her eyes, "So what brings you down from on high to live the glamorous life of the barback? ...Did someone tell you I was coming? I swear those mailroom girls gossip like hens... which is great when /I'm/ getting the leads from it..."

Thomas Raith has posed:
Thomas Raith smirks a little bit, and looks amused... "Well then..." He says getting down a bottle of sloe Gin, then a bottle of southern Comfort and Ketle One Vodka. He adds these to Orange juice and shakes them over ice before floating Galiano on top. "Specialty of the hose, and I can say with certainto there is no one in this club tonight I'd rather give a Slow comfortable Screw up agienst the Wall to." He says wickedly. He smirks and shrugs. "Got tired of paperwork and smoozing is part of my job too."

Yosa, the one eyed bartender who kinda looks like Bruce Willias from RED with an eyepatch just grunts. "He's being in the way, but he's the only person in this Club i /can't/ fire."

Thomas shrugs. "also that."

Lois Lane has posed:
Lois Lane smirks and rolls her eyes in good-natured amusement, glancing down at the drink, lifting it casually, lips quirking. She pauses just before taking a drink to let those intent irises focus on Yosa as she sighs out, "Well, there are benefits to being the boss. Not getting fired for making a drink /just/ to use the name as innuendo has to be one of the main perks, right?"

And then that glass is being lifted. She doesn't try to drain it like some sort of dock worker at the end of a shift, but it's no hesitant sip. It's the casual taste of a woman who knows her liquor and ends her long workdays with a bottle of something in her desk drawer.

Something because it varies if it's her office desk, her home desk, or if she's staying in a hotel and just hit a liquor store that evening.

Eyebrow perks in the wake of the drink and she murmurs dryly, "And really now, Thomas. Just planning to give me the /one/? Although I suppose I can't drink it too fast if it's supposed to be /slow/."

Thomas Raith has posed:
Thomas Raith smirks just a little bit and shrugs slightly, "There is the equivilant of six shots of alchol in that glass, so lets see how you handle that before we talk more." he reaches under the bar and liberates a crystal liquer decanter and a Highball glass. He drops one of the large spheres of ice in the glass and comes around to join her. "So my brother yesterday and me today, If I didn't know better I'd think the Daily Planet was interested in my family all of the suddon."

Lois Lane has posed:
Lois Lane quirks an eyebrow, tilts her head back, and drains a third of the drink. Not in a sudden shot, but in a slow, steady draw, her head dipping back down, eyes gleaming with a mix of excitement and daring as she murmurs out, "My my, I'm an /ace/ reporter for one of the most respected and longest lasting papers still in circulation, good sir. I know how to handle my liquor." She quirks an eyebrow and tilts her head, "Oh, I'm strictly interested in the bar for my story. I don't /remember/ interviewing your brother yesterday... was it one of my coworkers perhaps? Maybe they're working on another story."