2184/Grace Choi & The Billionaire

Grace Choi & The Billionaire
Date of Scene:	26 August 2017
Location:	Chaney's, Metropolis
Synopsis:	Oliver Queen runs into Grace at Chaney's.
Cast of Characters:	Green Arrow, Grace Choi

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Green Arrow has posed:
    "I'm telling you, Queen. While you're in the town you have to hit Chaney's. It's got this crazy vibe. Like retro townie, but the place is great." The consulting Vice President of Marketing for Helix Corporation offered with resounding endorsement to the visiting CEO of Queen Industries. "The people there are down to earth, but also some craziness to it. I'm telling you it's like being at a museum and seeing the exhibits coming to life."
    But Oliver Queen, normally so jovial is sort of eyeing this guy sidelong as they both ride along in the limousine. He checks his watch, gives the guy a halfway authentic smile and offers, "Yeah, that's good to hear Jonah. But I'm sorta jet-lagged."
    "I thought you came in on that zappadoo thing."
    "I did, but you know, time zones are time zones however you cross them."
    "C'mon it's barely what, 9 o'clock back on the left coast." He grins a bit, "Barely bed time for the kiddies. And what til you see this place. And the bouncer, if she's on duty that is. Knock out in more ways than one."
    As the limo pulls up, Oliver sort of eyes the man again, but then the vehicle stops and the opening of the door by the chauffeur breaks the chain of the conversation thankfully. Then it's out onto the sidewalk, that the two men emerge. Oliver straightens his suit, even while Jonah starts towards the door.

Grace Choi has posed:
    Well. The CEO was - at least partly right. It is a bit like watching the exhibits. If the exhibits were mutants, metas, and the like. It's probably not often Oliver has seen so many stand-out metas and mutants gathered in one place before. If he has? Not often.
    There are lizard-people. One man with devil-horns. Another that's wolfishly feral looking. Odd skin colors, ... yellow, green, and pure snow white among them.
    Yet, about half the clinetele - and at least two of the staff, one Grace Choi -- and the bartender, a thin looking rakish man, appear to be human. If you can call a seven foot tall redheaded asian woman 'human' looking.
    Chaney's is not your top of the line bar. It is, however, certainly somewhere in that middle ground between 'absolute dive' and 'pretty decent', as if it couldn't decide which one it wanted to be yet.
    One thing it is, though, is nearly full.
    A sign upon entering reads: Use of any abilities or powers to start fights or harm others will be met with equal or greater force by staff. Chaney's is not responsible for any bodily harm you may recieve as a result of keeping the general peace. Entry into Chaney's is an acknowledgement of this arrangement and agreement that you will generally be a decent person. Welcome to Chaney's.
    Of course -- all eyes, Grace's included, turn to look at the suits.
    Maybe it's not the mutants, and metas on display, afterall.

Green Arrow has posed:
    What Jonah had been meaning was a zoo. Not a museum. Oh he knew what he was walking in on, but he perhaps didn't have the guts to say that's the reason he liked coming there... was looking at all the people that he'd call freaks. And so when the two suits step through that door, and they draw the attention... he leans over and whispers to Oliver, "We might be a bit over-dressed."
    To which Ollie sort of looks at the guy sidelong. For a moment instead of saying anything, Oliver Queen chews the corner of his mouth thoughtfully. In his thoughts he's turning over what this deal means. The details of it, the people who advised him about it what good it might do and what sort of profits it might mean. Of course, not all of that sits well with Ollie... and he finds the fact that he's even considering all that shit to be so damn... distasteful.
    "Jonah." He steps further into the room, giving a nod to the bartender as he walks towards the bar and a lift of his hand in greeting at a smile from a gal with horns and a fanged smile. "You know what..."
    "What's up, Q?" A nickname he'd decided on.
    "I think I'm gonna do you a solid and tell you up front I'm not gonna sign the contract."
    The young executive's eyes widen, "What's up, Q? I thought we were good."
    "Yeah it's not you, it's me. I sorta have this knee jerk reaction to some things and it just wouldn't work out."
    At that, Jonah gets even more unhappy just as they get to the bar, "The hell are you talking about? You owe me!" He grabs Ollie's shoulder roughly and jerks it back.

Grace Choi has posed:
    Enter Grace Choi.
    She'd been eyeing the suits since they walked in. Not because she thought they would -cause- trouble. Rather, she thought they'd be on the recieving ends. Jonah, afterall, wouldn't be the first man to walk into Chaney's to look at a freakshow. But luckily for Jonah and Ollie? Most people who came here even vaugely frequently had a measured respect for Grace.
    Either they'd seen what she could, and would do, and respected that, feared it, or, were friends with her. Took all kinds, afterall. And Grace didn't care. As long as people behaved themselves.
    But the moment they didn't?
    Jonah finds himself grabbed by the back of his own suit, like a momma kitten picking up her young, Grace hauls Jonah off of his feet, easily. She says, quietly, "No. Roughousing. In my bar."
    She drops him back to his feet, and she crosses her thick arms, to lookd down at Jonah, impassively. She knows he'll look up.
    "You can sit. And drink. Or you can leave. Or, you can start trouble, and then I -throw- you out. And when I say throw? Well. Usually it's to the opposite side of the street. So. Your choice. I'd rather you stay civil, and fork some cash over. But, not at the expense of keeping the peace."

Green Arrow has posed:
    A brief squawk is heard from him as he's hefted so easily, but it's enough to get his attention and then his silence when she tells him how things are going to be. She can see him sort of eyeballing her, scowling, the frown a marked difference than the expression he wore when he sauntered into the bar looking like he owned the place.
    Ollie, for his part, dusts off his shoulder with a gesture, then flares his hands at the other business man. "Sorry, man. What can I do?"
    But Jonah needs the last word. He steps forwards and /points/ at Oliver Queen and says, "You are so sued. You don't even /know/ how sued you are." And at that he'll turn around and march back towards the door, frowning the while.
    It leaves Ollie and Grace standing there watching his retreating figure as he says simply. "That guy. Is a dick." He looks up and over at Grace, "Buy you a drink in thanks?"

Grace Choi has posed:
    "He's come in before. Spends as little as possible. Just enough to not get thrown out. Been looking for a suitable reason to toss him out on his ass. Like most of that caliber, he's a chicken-shit," Grace bluntly states. Customer service, clearly, is not why she's there.
    "Frank, two ales. One for -- the suit, and one for me." And, apparently drinking when on duty is okay? Odd.
    Two ales are presented, via a small 'pop' of sound, and the drinks apparating onto the tables. "Frank's the best bartender in the county. Not only does he make a mean drink, but with him we don't need a waitstaff. Means I get paid more, and less risk all around."

Green Arrow has posed:
    "Must save a good chunk of change." Oliver says as he accepts the drink and apparently has been given a choice of table what with it appearing on there. He'll saunter over and before he claims it he'll offer her his hand, "Oliver Queen." He eyes her amazonian physique and then gets a wry half-smile, "Please be gentle."
    But so long as she doesn't twist his hand off he won't complain. Instead he'll take a seat at the table the beers appeared on, pausing just long enough to pull off his coat and set it over the back of the chair. Shaking his head he'll look the place over, then back to the tall woman who spared him the company of the weaselly Jonah.

Grace Choi has posed:
    "Rich guy, right? The guy with the teleporters that are waiting to zap someone into outer space, or into a microwave oven?" Grace's comments are light, and hardly accusatory. No doubt it's things that Ollie's heard before. And, probably, discussions Grace is recounting she's heard in the bar since the announcement reared it's head.
    But, Grace neither seems impressed, nor does she feel any reason to change the way she's behaving. Not in the least. "So, if you knew that guy was a douchenozzle, why'd you come in here with him in the first place?"

Green Arrow has posed:
    "Mmm," Oliver settles into his seat, slouching a bit as he takes up his ale and swallows some, then sets it down with a faint glassy clunk. "Everyone in marketing is a douchenozzle." He says as he borrows her word, eyes distanced as he looks across the way, then he looks back towards her, blue eyes widening a touch as if pained by the fact. "Just to varying degrees. And you want to get a deal done, usually... at least for me, that means tolerating assholes."
    He looks at his drink and tilts it back again for another swallow, "But yeah, we brought those teleporters on line. Things work well. Still, they freak me out." A look at her, "Don't tell the newspapers I said that."

Grace Choi has posed:
    "Funny enough," mentions Grace, as she lifts the ale to herself, "Everyone talks about wanting Star-Trek technology, cool phasers and beam me up Scotty, and replicators, and whatever, ... it comes, and everyone gets freaked out and is either scared it's going to kill them, or that it's a government conspiracy to get everyone's DNA, or clone an army, or read our minds."
    Grace shrugs, indifferently. "Don't talk to any reporters. I'm a bouncer. Not interesting."
    Though, it's highly possible Ollie may have seen Grace in some footage, fighting those baby-monsters in Metropolis with Black Canary, an unknkown sorceress, and Hawkeye.
    "I deal with assholes, too. Except, generally, I get to manhandle them." She grins, suddenly. "Love my job."

Green Arrow has posed:
    "Well, if you ever have to throw a reporter out of here, don't mention it to them while you're tossing them out on their ass." His lip curls wryly but he waves a hand to the side, the other curled around the base of his mug. "But yeah, to be honest took me a bit to get used to it. I had them do it all slow mo to make sure it wasn't zorching me out of existence and then just making a copy of me. Worked."
    That having been said he shifts his weight to the side, chewing on his lower lip a moment. "But see, I had a sorta similar job a bit back. Don't get to indulge in it as much now. But really enjoyed it." He lifts his drink, "Seems like you really enjoy yours too. Hold onto it and don't let people talk you out of it." Not that he's gone cold turkey, but still.

Grace Choi has posed:
    "Got a side job, as a bodyguard for Zinda Blake," remarks Grace. "Along with Black Canary, if I ever get too bored. But, nah. Chaney's pays damn good," she admits. She considers Oliver Queen's words, though, more thoughtfully. Not that she paid too much attention to the tabloids, but she can't remember seeing him doing any sort of fighting in her memory. She shrugs it away, not important.
    Instead, she pulls back her ale again, finishing off the bottle easily. "I like what I do. I'm good at it. Was born to fight. Might as well make some money off it, right? Besides. Folk," and she clearly means the metas, here, "Need a place to go to feel they belong."

Green Arrow has posed:
    "Black Canary?" That catches his attention as Ollie glances sidelong towards her. "So you're in the superhero gig?" The incognito archer eyes her again and gives a nod to himself if perhaps to her as well. He frowns a bit pointedly but not in the unhappy way, more the sort of surprised way. He takes another pull from his drink and then nods, "I suppose I could see it. Big enough, strong enough."
    But then his attention wanders to the people who were having some comfort here, some feeling of belonging without having to hide who they are. He smiles a touch then murmurs, "That was the sorta point that stuck in my craw about that Jonah guy. Could see this was a place where folk just wanted to be left to themselves sort of thing. And he thought it was..." He lifts a hand, not even wanting to voice what the guy was thinking.

Grace Choi has posed:
    "Hell no," Grace says, dryly. She laughs. "No. No. I am nowhere -near- that shit," meaning the Superhero business. "First, I don't have time to put on costumes. You have any idea how much clothes cost for a girl my size? Second? I like my name just fine. I don't need to come up with some crazy name like 'The Punching Princess' or whatever it is the news would label me as. And, lastly? Superheroes get paid in - shit. Well, they get thanks, sure. Can't eat off gratitude. Doesn't pay the rent, either. Fell in with Zinda when she and John were in New York and I was out there. Got in a fight, she saw it. Wanted to hire me. Met Canary on the trip, we became friends. Pretty simple. Legs has got a style I can appreciate."
    Yes. Grace just said she calls one of the most dangerous women in Gotham 'Legs'.

Green Arrow has posed:
    "I dunnoooo, alliteration is big these days," Oliver smirks at her sidelong, "Punching Princess could punitively punish her principle predacious prey." He offers her with a solemn nod as if having imparted the very wisdom of Solomon. But then his smirk lets her know that it's all just so much BS. Yet he sips his drink and looks over at the people around them. "And she does at that," He offers in the way of mentioning Black Canary.
    "Still, there are ways some of them make it pay. Who's that guy who runs around with all the adverts on himself? Or he did way back when? Simon something?" He scritches at the stubble of his goatee and looks a little puzzled, but then he shakes his head. "And there is that Heroes for Hire gig down in New York. Though not sure how much they're really turning after taxes."

Grace Choi has posed:
    "I help, if help's needed. I don't need a fancy costume, or a nickname to do that. Just my fists. Or, my Warhammer." Grace grins a bit at that, "First thing, I suppose, besides my inherent strength that's turned out to be anything good from my heritage." She shrugs, again.
    "People want their heroes like they want their water. Wholesome, and free of additives." Again, Grace gives a dry chuckle. "It's not me." It's clear it's a conversation she's had more than once. Not that she minds. "But, appreciate the faith in me. So, you know the Black Canary? Or, just a fan?"

Green Arrow has posed:
    "Sorta," Oliver looks to her sidelong and smiles, he sets his mug down with a clunk and reaches a hand into the pocket of his jacket as he speaks, "Talked now and again, sorta fell outta touch. Long story." He pulls out his wallet and thumbs it open, grabbing a few twenties and leaving them on the table as he sets them down.
    That wallet goes back into his pocket as he reaches over his shoulder to grab the jacket by the collar. He pushes his seat back with the shove of one foot on the leg of the table, then rises to his feet, swinging that jacket over his shoulder. "You got a good gig going here, don't let it slip away. Keep your base and all that." He grins and pushes his chair back under the table.

Grace Choi has posed:
    "See you, Queen." Grace rises up herself, "You're not so bad." Which is pretty much a compliment, coming from the half-Amazon. "Try to stay out of trouble, yeah? But, you're welcome back here if you ever want." She means it.
    Grace gives the man a nod, and then moves towards the other side of the bar, to make sure nobody's trying anything funny, since she was distracted.