2878/Log 2878

Log 2878
Date of Scene:	17 October 2017
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Jimmy Olsen, Lois Lane

---

Jimmy Olsen has posed:
One of the great things about being back in Metropolis, about being close to home, is that you can get punched in the face and not have to worry about dodgy third world doctors or sketchy tribal 'remedies'.

Chasing a lead on one of his stories, Jimmy inadvertantly had his cover blown and was, like it has been insinustated, punched on the face. Alas, this is not the first time this has happened, nor will it be the last. At least he got a few licks in too.

But now, after an embarrasing late night Uber ride home, Jimmy sits on his couch, groaning slightly as he lays back and presses the cold underside bottle of beer to his slightly swollen eye. His nose has some crusted blodo around the nostrils but he doesn't care.. The cold is sooooo soothing... and it's not like his fridge had much else since he hasn't really gone shopping since he came back (even though his mom keeps offering).

The television is on, but turned to one of those streaming music services, something mindless and rock 'n rolly.

Lois Lane has posed:
How Lois tracked down his apartment might remain a mystery, but it's LOIS -- she always knows where things are and isn't scared to use her journalist powers for slightly evil. Tonight, that slightly evil is coming over way too late at night with a mess of papers in her arms and that gleam of an idea in her eye. Well, an idea and a whole lot of scotch. She's standing outside his door, rapping rather fiercely for a few moments -- just in case he was asleep. Then she calls through the door, "Jimmy, it's Lois! Open up. I know you don't have a life, so it's not like you're out on a date or something! Open up!"

Jimmy Olsen has posed:
Jimmy Olsen frowns... and a loud exasperated groan can be heard from through the door. "Hold on a frickken second..." she can hear from within.. then the sound of a multitude of locks being, well, unlocked.. The door opens slightly and She can see his face through the crack.. And the AWESOME shiner. "One, do you know what /time/ it is?" he asks. "Two, I am insulted that you are insinuating I have no life. I /do/ date." he says petulantly. "..Sometimes." he then squints at her. "Wait, are you drunk?"

Lois Lane has posed:
And as he looks at her through the crack, he'll see a Lois that was clearly not on any hot date herself. In fact, she's a Lois who was probably in her pajama-type clothing at 8 pm, sitting alone at home, drinking scotch and looking through conspiracy theroies. Until she hit on one that probably isn't a conspiracy. She's in a pair of oversized sweat pants with COLUMBIA printed down one of the legs and SCHOOL OF JOURNALISM literally written across the ass (because someone thought that was a good idea) and a hoodie, her hair down in messy black waves and her glasses on. She's no one's dream girl. And yes, she smells just faintly of scotch. At least it's good scotch.

"I'm not...drunk. I'm... creative. And I came across something. And I might be a too creative to figure out if it's actually something or not. And you are NOT on a date and ARE awake so let me in and we'll be creative together, dammit!" She huffs out. She's already stuck her Ugg-booted foot in the door, holding it open, as is habit any time she gets someone she wants to question to open the door. Just so they can't shut it again.

Jimmy Olsen has posed:
Jimmy Olsen just stares at her a moment, that bottle of beer pressed to the blackened eye... He's seen her like this before, but usually it was her calling him at god awful hours of the morning screaming at him to come over to her place.. and to bring /coffee/, damnit. So... he must really be moving up in the world if she is at /his/ door step.

Sighing, he steps back and lets her in, an once she is he closes the door behind her.. locking it up again because as nice renovated as his building is, it is still Suicide Slum (if the more gentrified edge of it). "I can't believe you crossed Suicide Slum when you're.. being creative." he mumbles, then walks back to his couch to flop down on the cushion. His apartment is probably not what she would have expected. Yeah, it's a guy's place, but it is.. tasteful. And pretty darned clean. Hell, there are even flowers (if slightly wilted) in a vase on the island that divides the kitchen from the living room. And there is of course his shelves of souveniers and the one wall dedicated to his photos... and his Pultizer. But even the wall is sort of taseful, not pretentious.

So what have you found out that ouldn't wait till a more respectable time of morning.. and by morning I mean afternoon." he asks as he kicks his feet up on the coffee table.

Lois Lane has posed:
"You look like shit. What happened to your eye? Date went bad?" Lois finally catches up to the fact that he doesn't have a beer against his eye because he's reading the label. The words she says might be harsh, but there is actually a geunine touch of concern behind it as she looks him up and down while he's locking the door, making certain that he's not injured anywhere else she's missing. And yes, this is the first time she actually came to him -- even if it's at the most annoying hour of the night and she didn't call or warn him ahead.

"And it's fine, I've been worse places while being more creative than this. No one fucks with you when you're in sweats. You don't look like you're worth fucking with." She grumbles with a bit of a smirk, stalking the rest of the way into his apartment. She's only slightly swaying off balance, but she's too interested to actually see what the place looks like to sit down right now. She blinks as she realizes the place is actually pretty nice, "...Shit, Jimmy... your place is cleaner than mine. You got a girl hidden back there or something? Should I be quiet? And no, it wouldn't wait until the afternoon, I actually have to be in the office in the afternoon unlike some people and I wanted your brains on this." She flops down a manila folder of half old articles, half printed out pictures on the table. Most of them related to the Gambino crime family and one of the heads that was put away about five years ago.

Jimmy Olsen has posed:
There MAY be a touch of concern in her voice but he either doesn't notice it, or is irritable after the day he has had. "What is it with you and making jokes about my dating life?" he asks as he picks up the remote to the TV with his free hand and clicks the music stream to something else.. choosing random in fact and grits his teeth as she makes comments on his apartment.

"I know my place is cleaner than yours. Because my mom taught me not to be a slob." he says, maybe a bit harshly. Of course Lois has Met Jimmy's mom. The youngis older woman who had Jimmy as a teen and raised him alone after his father died somewhere over seas months before his birth. A strong, independent, if over protective, woman. "And no, I /don't/ have a girl 'hidden' in back. So stop making light of my perpetual singleness and tell me what you are here...

The envelope flops on the table at his feet, pictures and articles spreading out.

"..about... Isn't that the Gambino family. You wrote about them before, didn't you?"

Lois Lane has posed:
"Shit, Jimmy, I'm just teasing. And of course your mom did this. Hell, I think she made us feel guilty for not cleaning the whole damn OFFICE that week she was in town. But good, no one else here, so we can be loud." She then plops down onto the couch, beginning to lay out the photos she has and the few articles, including two she wrote, about the indictment of Tommy Gambino. The photos are mostly of his money laundering business, two of them being evidence that had been used in the conviction. There's some others of him going to and from the trial. Most photos have a blonde woman somewhere in the background of them, even if it's just at a corner or an edge. She's never mentioned anywhere in the articles.

"So, how'd you get that shiner? Who do I have to beat up and do you want some asprin?" Lois asks that just a bit softer, the concern a touch more clear behind her voice as she studies him from across the table. She's got her evidence laid out now so her brain isn't running quite so fast obsessing over it.

Jimmy Olsen has posed:
Jimmy Olsen looks a bit guilty now, having snapped at one of his oldest friends AND mentor. He lowers the bottle, cheeks reddening, and he sighs. "Sorry, Lois. it's just been a rough day. Hell, a rough week." he tells her as he sits up straighter, feet on teh floor, and pops the cap off his beer. mMight as well drink it before it gets warm, right? He takes a long swig and then looks at the pictures again with a critical eye. "I remember these.. Whatsisname took the pictures.. Thats when I was just starting at the Planet..." he says as he looks between the articles and the pictures. "Wasn't Tommy's brother, Ricky, in on it too... ANd who is the blonde?" he asks as he points her out. "She's familiar.. why is she familiar...?"

He frowns a bit and leans back again, then eyes (har har) Lois. "I was following a lead on a child slavery ring... And asked the wrong questions. Somehow the lead got diverted to gun smugglers who took offence that I mistakenly accsed them of trading kids.. Which.. I can't blame them, I guess."

Lois Lane has posed:
"Look at the article about the prosecution's case..." Lois is trying not to completely lead a horse to water. She needs him to see what she saw. The fact that the woman, in the article about the prosection, was sitting with the prosecution team. In fact, from her position, she was probably the second prosecuting attorney. Not leading the case, but definitely working for 'the good guys', but there are small clips of her in half the other shots. Incidental, clips someone wouldn't notice if they weren't obsessively pouring over these things, but when Lois gets a bee in her bonnet she chases it and now she thinks she's caught it.

While she leaves him with the photos, restless and tipsy, she gets up from the couch as quickly as she sat down, "Just look. Tell me what you see. I'll find something better for your eye." She doesn't seem to mind the snapping -- she never has, she takes as good as she gives -- but she still cares. She disappears into his kitchen to look for ice, peas, or perhaps a slab of meat.

Jimmy Olsen has posed:
Jimmy frowns and leans over the table, studying the pictures again as Lois meanders into his kitchen and tries to find non-existant frozen food products. About teh only thing in his fridge is left over take out containers and half a hawaiian pizza (no sauuse, triple the cheese, bacn added). "I haven't been shopping since I got back!" he calsl out and moves the pictures around with the tip of a finger.

"It looks like she is part of the proesecuting team but at the same time it is like she is trying to distance herself as well.." he says slowly, then picks up a few other pictures and stares at them. "But why would she be in these pictures.." he asks, pointing to a few that weretaken of Gambino leaving the courthouse. She is in the crowd, almost not noticable. "See? Wouldn't she have stayed with theteam and not milled with the crowd. And looks at her face.. The head prosecutor always seems determined.. or angry.. or smug. She doesn't look like she cares about her own case against the guy..."

Lois Lane has posed:
"...Either she set the guy up... or the FAMILY set the guy up... But she was involved in this shit way before they took Tommy in and I have no fucking clue what it means but I'm glad I'm not seeing things." Lois exclaims from the kitchen, giving a little grunt as she sees his fridge entirely empty. "...I'm going grocery shopping for you next week. This is ridiculous. But at least you still have good taste in pizza." The sound of some water running can be heard, then the freezer opening and shutting before she comes back into the room empty handed. "There's a wet cloth in your freezer. Take it out and put it on your eye before you go to sleep and maybe you'll be able to open it in the morning. Maybe." See? She does care.

A quiet sigh is given down to the photos, "...I just wish I knew what it meant. But... I have a feeling someone set us up to line that story up hook line and sinker, the prosecution's case was way too damn easy... and while Tommy probably should be behind bars for some shit, I... don't like feeling used. ANd I feel used. And am too damn tired," or drunk, "to figure out why."

Jimmy Olsen has posed:
Jimmy Olsen listens to her as she.. well it's not rambling. What she is saying makes a lot of sense, actually. "Either set him up, or some how sabotages the /defense/. But.. this is all supposition.. we have no roof." he says... then picks up the photo of the woman. "First, we need to find out who she is.." he says. "Maybe... hmmmm. Gimme a few days and I may have an Idea on who she is. I mean, I have /years/ of photos from courtrooms.. and other crime related scenes. And there is social media.. Maybe we can build a profile on /her/."

He sets the photo back down. "Because /if/ you have been used then we need to find out why.. and why always comes linked with who." he says, then takes a sip of his beer and blushes as she comments on his fridge. "Do /you/ even know how to grocery shop?" he asks. "I thought you used an App."

Lois Lane has posed:
A deep smirk crosses Lois' lips, "My phone can grocery shop for me and it can shop for you too, dammit. We're getting you food. If we're working this story together, I'm gonna need something to snack on when I come over at midnight. And you're too skinny as is." Lois flutters between sounding like an annoying girlfriend and a mother -- in other words, nothing has changed. She then looks back down to the photos, giving a little grunt of thought, "No fucking clue, but if you're up for working with me again, consider yourself hired. Payment will be in the form of fame, perhaps another few awards, and the presence of my glorious company." Lois winks in his direction. And then they fall into some actual work. A little social media hunting, some old photos they can find on the internet, but it's not too much longer before they are passed out respectively on couch and chair, the late hour having gotten the best of them. The work will wait until tomorrow -- it always does.