3511/Go Out and Meet People, They Said

Go Out and Meet People, They Said
Date of Scene:	05 January 2017
Location:	Gotham City
Synopsis:	Cassandra goes to a club that the Family has under surveillance. She meets a young man named Quinn then things go sideways.(This scene was completed on 12/31/2017 but for storyline purposes happened on 1/6/2018.)
Cast of Characters:	Quinn Alexander, Batgirl (Cain)

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Quinn Alexander has posed:
    "Are you seeing this shit?" Marco's voice is rumbly, unhappy, even as the short man in the precisely tailored suit pulls down the thin shade of the window. It's this overly elaborate tall window that takes up an entire wall, giving the man a place to look down on through to the bar and the dance floor. The heavy thumping of subwoofers throbbing to the beat of the music can barely be heard in the place as little more than a steady oontz-oontz-oontz.
    Outside that window, down below in the mass of humanity that occurs nightly in the club the roiling crowd dances, drinks, and doses its way into the night. Most of them oblivious to the million miniature dramas that occur around them. The tears of a broken heart. The grief lost into the bottom of a drink. The chemically-addled exuberance of bliss brought on by little pills that the bartender hands out with a particular order. It's all so important, so very world shaking to each person that is affected. But Marco Gutierrez, the man above, in the elaborately decorated office doesn't care for any of that. Not at all.
    "See what, Marco?" One of the men on track suit and sweats is leaning on the edge of the man's desk, a scantily clad woman settled on his knee and casually stroking the man's face with a perfectly manicured nail.
    "Hector's back."
    "The fuck?"
    "Seriously."
    With those words some more of the men who all have spent time and shared a few mug shot sessions with their boss step towards the window, peeking through their own small slats. "What's he want?"
    All of them are older men, all of them save one. The men at the window can be seen as the slats are twisted so suddenly, four of them. Felons all. But the fifth is a different silhouette altogether. Hunched shoulders, hoodie, and headphones. And he doesn't seem to care about Hector down there, or anything at all.
    "Bring him up here." Marco says.
    "You heard the man, go get him." One of the bigger guys turns to the others. That guy in turn looks to the man on his left, who then looks to the next, and the next... until.
    "Hey, Kid. Go get Hector, ya slack ass."
    He looks up, pulling one of the earpieces out, even as that huge guy with the big gut snaps, "Go. Get. Hector." He points, "Dumb ass."
    And the music continues to thump around him, but the headphones are loud enough to block it out so the Kid gives a nod, a bit blank, but then moves to the stairs and down towards the seething mass of humanity that assuredly contains Hector.

Batgirl (Cain) has posed:
    There are a lot of things in the world that are confusing to Cassandra. One of them is why people come to places like this. So many people and so much deceit. No one really tells the truth, they are all too busy trying to impress others. It is rare that there is a person present who is being totally truthful. Most have an angle. Something they want. It may be some of those pills that make their minds leave their bodies, sending them on a fantastical ride in their minds. Who knows what they are actually seeing as they wander around or end up on the dance floor moving around. It can't really be called dancing since they don't follow the beat everyone else is hearing.
    One of the things she has been told quite often is to go out and observe people. To try and learn how to fit in better. So she tries from time to time. Honestly, she hates it. The music was too loud and the people too close. Yet, her mentor has stressed that it is important she can blend into the world she doesn't feel a part of. Because of that, she has opted to come to this club. The fact it is one they have under observation has nothing to do with it. Or everything.
    She gets in the door although she is not tagged or stamped as a twenty-one year old. They allow those who are over eighteen to enter. They just don't get to drink without a stamp and an armband. She has on a pair of jeans with a tank top, her dark hair pulled back into a basic ponytail. There is a leather jacket to keep out the chill weather. Inside, she'll likely end up removing it at some point as the warmth from the press of people has the temperature more than comfortable.
    She heads toward the bar itself, sliding into an empty stool and settling in. She takes in that high window and the silhouettes, then scans the room itself for those hidden members of the group.

Quinn Alexander has posed:
    It's easy at a glance, to see and tell who is there on business and who is there for pleasure. So many of the people are easily discerned. That couple sharing a drink together, it's clear the one man is lying to her, but the girl opposite of him knows that he's lying but she doesn't care. She actually seems to like it for whatever reason. Then there's that group of people in the corner who are all laughing together, though it's clear that three of the four don't like the fourth for some reason, as if they're seeking something from him.
    But all of that is normal social interaction, at least what passes for it. The static and noise of insincerity that comes with the human creature. But she can see the group of people, can see the hitters in the crowd, the fixers, the runners. All of them part of the greater operation. She can even see the young man in the hoodie as he purposefully cuts through the crowd with his headphones in place as he steps up to a taller man who seems intently looking for something.
    "Marco wants to see you." The kid says, just loud enough to carry over the music at close range. Hector looks back and the kid and nods, but seems not inclined to move from his place at the edge of the crowd.
    "Now." The kid adds, but gets a glare from Hector and he adds, "Ish." But that's enough to get the man moving in the direction. The Kid, however, he doesn't seem in any hurry to head back upstairs. He know what happens in that office, too often it ends up bloody...
    He look across the room, sort of grooving to the music though the club's or his headphones it's hard to tell. His body language is an almost visible sigh and clear... discomfort with being there despite the semblance of fitting in.

Batgirl (Cain) has posed:
    The bartender comes over and asks for her order. Cassandra hesitates then points to a glass on the bar in front of a young woman about her age. It just has a soda in it. She doesn't try to speak nor does she sign. She's not sure what the sign for that is yet. She's still working on learning letters to spell things. Words come to her fast. Letters, not so much. The man behind the bar gets a glass and starts to prepare her drink.
    Immediately, she turns her back and continues people watching. The young man in the hoodie is noted. She watches the exchange between him and the other man. The interplay of their body language lets her know what she was unable to hear. The slightest tension in Hector as he tries not to look at the window above. There is a weight to his steps. He doesn't want to go up there. Yet he does, as if he is going to his own execution. In this place, that might even be true.
    Cassandra picks up her drink as soon as it is delivered, taking a sip through the straw as she looks at the young man in the hoodie. She does so openly, not trying to hide her observation. After all, it's a club. People are checking each other out all the time. It isn't so unusual. The fact she doesn't quite fit in with her lack of make-up or micro skirt might make it seem a little unusual though. Why is he uncomfortable? Why is he helping those up above? As she sees him happen to be looking in her direction, she gives a tiny wave of her hand in his direction.

Quinn Alexander has posed:
    His head sort of bounces to the music. He's doing his own people watching and on some level she might sense that he's... counting? As if counting the beats of the music but he's slightly out of time or rhythm. Yet he's still looking around. Then his blue eyes meet hers across the way. He'll see her look up, meeting his gaze and he does that too casual look away and off to the side, as if it was an accident. He was just looking in her general direction. Which he sort of was. But then he look back again almost instantly right after when she does that little wave.
    She'll see that first mark of confusion, the slight curl at the corner of his mouth that seems to spark a subtle motion of his left hand as if he's about to return the wave but then he stops himself...
    Just as a man in a red track suit /whaps/ him upside the back of his head. "What's up, Q?" Mild affection in the movement, but a smirking sort of superior aspect to it. He smirks, the tall guy with the rotund belly and slicked back hair grins at the youth. "You down to do the thing?"
    The ear buds are pulled out and Quinn looks at the man, "Oh, hey Vin. Yeah. How's Livvy doin'?"
    "Meh, crazy broad. Had me out all hours of the night last night. Be happy when she's not so... you know," He gestures with both hairy hands towards his considerable bulk but emphasizes his belly. "Just five more weeks."
    "Hey that's great..." A quick glance is given over towards Cassandra.
    "Who's that?" The man with the grin and the slick hair looks over at Cass, then back to Quinn. "You know that gal? Pretty cute. Maybe I should..."
    But then Vin is cut off as Quinn holds out his hands, "Wha, no. Yeah. We uhh go to school together." Why he advances that defense might not be clear, or even too apparent beyond the brief anxiety.
    "Oh izzat so?"
    "Yeah, so hey. Gonna go say hi."
    "Hah, you do that Q."
    But then the kid in the hoodie turns and starts to make his way through the crowd towards Cassandra, looking at her nervously under a sort of wincing look with his brow furrowed as he jams his hands into his pockets. Vin hovers nearby, probably eavesdropping as Q steps up to her and says.
    "Uh, hey. Remember me from..." What's a good lie, a class name, something 101, what was the one he... Mr. Franks'? "Social studies?" He smiles weakly.

Batgirl (Cain) has posed:
    The company the young man keeps leaves a lot to be desired. Cassandra can't hear but she quietly watches the interplay between the two men. The one in the track suit is bad news but he seems to like the one in the hoodie. The younger man is lower in the hierarchy. If that wasn't obvious when he was sent as a messenger to Hector. She flicks her gaze toward the stairs where that man had ascended and disappeared from view. Then her gaze goes to that window. A moment later, she is watching the young man and is a little surprised to see him walking her way.
    Sure, she'd given him a wave which would be an invitation of sorts. She just hadn't expected him to take that opportunity. Now she's in for it since she can't really chat it up with him and ask what he's doing in this place when he doesn't quite fit in with the track suit crowd.
    The expression of Quinn has her concerned. Moreso when Vin positions himself close enough to listen in. Social Studies. That draws a blank for Cassandra but she realizes what the young man is trying to do and she gives a bright smile, one that is usually kept for her adoptive family. She nods vigorously them motions to the seat beside her, giving him an invitation to sit if he would like. A hand is waved to the bartender and she motions to her drink then Quinn before arching a brow at the young man, asking if he wants a soda as well. Without ever saying a word or making a sound.

Quinn Alexander has posed:
    Vin gives a small snort at the expressions on their faces, but he rubs his nose and shakes his head. He starts to walk past, but slaps a hand on Quinn's shoulder, as if just letting him know that he's still around. But then in the next moment he's passed and it leaves the two of them there as the bartender almost contemptuously slides over another drink.
    But Quinn, beside her, he's all pent up tension and wariness as he settles at the bar with her. She can tell he's trying to give an impression of informality, his smile is there for a moment but a bit sickly and half-assed as he takes the drink and sips it before telling her sidelong without looking at her. "Sorry about that, I'll leave you alone in a second." It's clear he's trying to counterfeit that ease, and to her such a critic of people's body language it looks like a toddler trying to recite Shakespeare. But it might pass for other less perceptive people.
    He takes another sip but then eyes her with one lifted eyebrow, as if registering a small touch of annoyance. Since really, who is this gal to come in to this place and be all poor lost sheep in the deep dark woods looking? But he sighs to himself, "You know, if you're looking to go out for a night of dancing you could have chosen a better place." He says as he gestures towards the crowd. And, to be fair, the crowd doesn't really match them. The people seem older than them, a little more harsh as if they had lived hard lives and were no stranger to various chemical concoctions to alleviate them of some of that pain. Definitely not a place for some fresh-faced youths. No less him as her.

Batgirl (Cain) has posed:
    Dancing. For a moment, Cassandra looks amused. She doesn't actually laugh but the expression on her face shows she is close. There is laughter in her eyes as she gives him a shake of her head. Dancing isn't something she understands either. It's a foreign thing to her. The appeal of it makes no sense in her brain. The movement makes no sense, there is no purpose to it. He had been moving to the beat earlier, maybe not even aware he was doing it. She glances out at the dance floor, contemplating the jerks and writhing movements of the people out there as her brow furrows.
    She looks back to Quinn and gives another shrug, waving her hand toward the dance floor dismissively. That wasn't the draw. That isn't what brought her here. What brought her here was the fact this place is on the surveillance list. Yet, she has to come up with a reason for her presence apparently. Yet, she isn't sure why she needs to and she frowns a bit. A motion to her drink then she signs a single word. <Thirsty.>
    She then points at him and she furrows her brow into a question of her own. If he had the right to wonder why she was there, she had the same right.

Quinn Alexander has posed:
    She can see the agitation, and probably can't understand why. Can't see into his thoughts though she can read what they engender in the young man's body language. He's on edge, knows how things have gone in the past in the place. Knows Marco's moods, knows also that any number of unsavory characters could wander through the double doors in the front and cause a bit of mayhem. And here is this gal, who looks like she's just strolled in off the street.
    But he looks back to her and it's the look in her eyes that perhaps helps to somewhat disarm him, that almost makes him smile back against his better judgement. "What?" He asks.
    But he sees where she gestures and he says, "Oh? Oh. Well no I uh..." He looks around and she can see the skepticism in his eyes, as if he knows exactly how sketchy the place is.
    "I sort of. Work here? I suppose." He reaches over and takes another sip, but he smiles back at her. "I just know it's not a good place for... you know, decent people." Like her. But then he asks, "Can you not speak?"

Batgirl (Cain) has posed:
    Interesting. He's being...protective. The irony of that is not lost on Cassandra. She might not know the term or be able to explain it but she can tell how absurd it is that he is wanting to protect her. Of course, he doesn't know that. There is no way for him to realize she likely could take out every one of the tracksuits in a record time. They are spread out though. It would be tricky and people could be caught in the crossfire. That she knows all these things reminds her that she isn't like him. Or the rest of them.
    Sort of works there. That's a strange answer. It doesn't make sense. Hw as playing errand boy for the people upstairs. The tracksuit wearing Vin knows him well. He's part of the group. Yet not. He doesn't fit in with them and he keeps himself apart. She can tell by the way he holds himself, during his interaction with Vin.
    At the question she gives a negative shake of her head and places her hand on the front of her throat. She can get out a word or two but it's easier to go with the mute answer since it is cloer to the truth.

Quinn Alexander has posed:
    She can see the quick flow of emotions in his eyes and at the crease of skin just above his eyebrows. The quick hint of concern, a little bit of sadness, somewhat apologetic as if sorry or responsible for her difference. But then whatever emotion he might have been about to display is interrupted by a quick guffawing laughter.
    "Can't talk? Hah! Put a ring on that girl, kid." Again there's Vin, who had been hovering only a bit away but far enough that he lifts a hand and gets the bartender's attention, "Hit me, slick."
    The bartender tosses Vin a beer who, satisfied enough that Quinn's got things covered, turns around and starts to walk back towards the stairwell that leads up to that room even as the next song starts to pick up.
    Of course Quinn gives a 'heh' as if sharing in the joke and perhaps there's a small flush of colour in his cheeks. But he looks back at Cassandra in a pained way as one is wont to do like when their Dad makes a particularly bad Dad joke.
    "Sorry about that, but yeah you see what I mean?"

Batgirl (Cain) has posed:
    She's seen that reaction in the past. People feel like there is a reason to be sympathetic because she can't speak. For most people who have used words their entire lives, it's as though she is functioning without an arm or leg. It's that much of a shock to their systems. If they only realized how much more she perceived beyond the noises they made. She's rather unique in her viewpoint. For her the lack of languge only prohibits her from being understood, from communicating more easily. For most of her life, it didn't matter. Even after she ran away and was on the streets, she never needed to talk.
    Until she became part of the circle around Batman. Then she learned that she wanted to be able to talk. She wanted to share with the rest of the family.
    At the comment from Vin, she looks over at the man and frowns darkly. Her annoyance isn't for herself. It's because he made Quinn uncomfortable with his comment. As he moves away, she turns her gaze back over to Quinn and gives a shake of her head.
    There is nothing for him to be apologizing for. Why do people do that? She motions toward Vin's back then tries to think of a way to express that he wasn't worth the time or energy. She remembered something she had seen others do and she decided in this case, it was fitting.
    She stuck her tongue out at Vin's retreating back then looked at Quinn with a grin.

Quinn Alexander has posed:
    He's looking off after Vin, and to be fair he's smirking after the man since of the crew he's the one that's nicest to him of them all. But then Quinn looks back towards Cass and he'll follow her movements, catching the gesture and then sticking her tongue out and it makes him laugh. He shakes his head to himself as he leans to the side on the bar, more at ease as she can see the tension slip away from him at least in part. Sure things are dangerous here sometimes, and sure who knows what might happen? But he reasons with himself at least he can sort of look out for her. For a bit, you know?
    "He's not so bad," He says to her, "Just a bit gruff." He lifts his hands to his headphones almost an instinctive gesture, muscle memory clearly she can see, as if that's something he does so very often. But then he stops himself and instead pulls them fully off and tucks them into a pocket. He says to her, "My uh, my name's Q. Or Quinn. Quinn Alexander. So hi." He offers his hand a little awkwardly as if not sure if he should go for a hand shake or should just give her fingers a squeeze or something.

Batgirl (Cain) has posed:
    His laugh catches her a little off guard. As she watches him relax further, she smiles again. Genuinely. There is something about him that she likes. Maybe it's that he is here working with bad people yet he is wanting to try to protect wha the sees as the fish out of water. It's so at odds with a thug. As his hand goes to his headphones, she watches that movement as he almost puts them on. Something he has done over and over, so much so that he does it instinctively now. Headphones are part of that foreign territory for her. He must love music for his body to have developed that memory.
    Cassandra can't really offer her name verbally but she did learn a sign to use for herself. She curves her hand into the letter C then bring the hand to the center of her chest. So he has something he can call her. Just C. Thankfully it's one of those signs that anyone can figure out, even without knowing ASL. Then she takes his hand into her own. Her handshake is firm, strong, but none of that silly hand bent, barely touching, wimpy thing a lot of women do.

Quinn Alexander has posed:
    There's a small hand shake and he was ready for that small sort of bare touch followed probably by a giggle or a titter as young gals are often wont to do. But when she gives him a good squeeze the likes of which his father used to give him he blinks a bit at her, smirks a bit and then /squeezes/ back almost as if saying, 'oh yeah?!' with that motion, words she can see if not hear. But his smile takes any grumpiness from that gesture.
    Once she lets go of him he'll lean back against the bar and he says, "C. Doesn't really roll off the tongue, but yeah." He looks at her hand placement, then back up to her eyes and gives a faint off-handed half smile. "So did you really just sort of wander in here?" He asks as he looks away from her.
    Across the room the place is still hopping, people are still dealing with their own matters, still dancing, still drinking, still dosing. But the shades have been drawn in that window upstairs, just the hint of light being able to be seen through those slats.
    For some reason that makes him frown as he looks back towards her, "I mean. Just saying, if you don't care, there are a lot of places that are better. I could show you a better place to... well a nicer place to dance. Do you dance?" He leans back slightly as if assaying her form, as if he could discern if she was a dancer purely at a glance. "Or, you know. Coffee?" He asks with that small crooked smile, becoming perhaps more at ease with her.

Batgirl (Cain) has posed:
    At the word coffee, her nose wrinkles up and her lips are pressed tightly together just before a hint of a frown appears. Apparently that particular beverage is not one she finds appealing. In fact by that look, it's positiviely disgusting. She motions to the sode instead, her expression shifting back to normal. She's tried coffee. Lots of the people in her family drink it and the smell was nice. The bitterness was not. No matter how much sugar or cream she put in it, she couldn't get past that taste. She takes a quick sip from her glass before focusing back on his other question.
    Dancing. Her gaze shifts to the dance floor--taking a moment as she does so to not the window is now covered--and her expressive face goes a little pensive. She watches a few of the people. That one is on something. They are waving their arms around as though in slow motion, totally at odds with the pulsing music. There are a few couples that are close to each other, basically a verticle expression of what they would rather be doing. Their clothes are the only thing that keeps what they are doing legal in a public place. A few are just lost in the music, moving and flowing.
    She gives a shake of her head again as she turns back to Quinn. Then she points at the drink. That's all she came in for. Nothing else. Not spying on the bad guys in track suits, just came in for a cola.

Quinn Alexander has posed:
    Of course that's the moment when there's a loud and heavy /thud/ that comes from upstairs, a sound of something impacting the wall above, then another as those slatted shades part with the impact of a body being smashed up against that window. One can barely make out the silhouette of a man being pressed there with the blinds going all chaotic and mad.
    But then in the split second after that the window shatters and down... down falls Hector, hitting the ground heavily with a thud!
    There's a scream, a few people laugh, the music cuts out as up in that broken window Marco's figure is seen scowling down and then he /spits/ on the rather now quite dead Hector who seems to be bleeding from tears and bruises on his face. Then there's Marco's voice.
    "What? The fuck you looking at?" There's a pause as the crowd is quiet, but then he scowls. "Free drinks for everyone who saw this fair fight."
    The crowd laughs, roars, music comes back on and it's almost as if nothing happened even as some of the thugs come down the stairs.

Batgirl (Cain) has posed:
    The noise from above draws Cassandra's attention back to that window. She frowns as she sees the figured slammed against, showing there between the messed up slats. Then the window shatters and she is rising to her feet, eyes wide. Hector lands with a thud, the bodies around him parting like the Red Sea and leaving him there for her to watch die. For an instant his eyes show that terror...then nothing.
    Cassandra has seen that before. The memory of the blood on her hand, the face of the man she had killed, the way his eyes were filled with terror. Then Nothing. A strangled sound comes from her throat, the first vocalization she has made since coming into the club. Quinn is forgotten. Her need for secrecy is forgotten. All that matters is this death and the man who caused it.
    She is moving immediately, heading for those stairs. She moves between people easily, as though she is water finding the path of least resistance as it flows toward the sea. She will get to Marco and she will go through all his goons to do so.

Quinn Alexander has posed:
    The room has no way of knowing at first the storm it's summoned. The music has resumed, people are starting to dance even as Vin, who had the misfortune to be downstairs, is moving towards the body. He pushes through the crowd in a much less elegant and precise way as the young girl who is rushing towards the stairs, ignorant of what she is doing. Over his shoulder he yells, "Quinn, c'mere. Help me with this jabron."
    But there at the bar still, having been left in the dust by the young woman's rapid departure, Quinn is looking off after her. He's torn back by Vin's words, holding up a hand. "Yeah, sure Vin. Gimme... gimme a second." He says as he starts to move off after Cassandra, trying to catch up to her.
    "Be quick, this guy ain't gonna smell any sweeter anytime soon."
    But then the youth slips through the crowd, closing the distance and reaches out for Cassandra's arm, perhaps foolishly, even as he says to her, "W-wait a sec. Don't go up there, those guys are..."

Batgirl (Cain) has posed:
    That hand touching her arm has Cassandra spinning around, her left fist coming up in a strike toward the face of whoever is trying to stop her. The fist stops a half inch from contact with his cheek. The arm shifts direction and comes down, slamming into his forearm and forcing him to release the hold.
    Moments before, she was a smiling young woman who seemed to have wandered into the wrong place. Now her face has shifted and there is almost a palpable sense of anger coming from her. She looks furious although it isn't aimed at him. He might not be able to tell that. As soon as she slaps his hand off of her, she is turning and putting her foot on that first step.
    She had failed. A man was dead because she didn't interfere. She figured he might get beat up but she hadn't expected him to end up dead on the floor. Batman was going to be angry with her. Only his anger would be nothing compared to her fury at herself. The memory of her past mixed with the devastating sense of guilt from the present had unleashed hell.
    The goons coming down never knew what hit them. There was this slight girl there on the steps then suddenly one had a broken nose from a kick to the face. Blood splatters onto the stairs and on Cassandra's shirt. Immediately she is twisting, that leg coming around in a spinning kick aimed at the second man closest to her.

Quinn Alexander has posed:
    There's that rush of movement, the blur of her fist coming up to the side of his head and his eyes widen a bit. But then their eyes meet and she can see the confusion there, even as she brings her hand down to slam into his forearm and break the not too hard grip on her arm, causing him to step back with that look of surprise to him.
    But then she's moving up the steps to the stairs and starts her ascent quickly, leaving him reeling down there looking a bit confused.
    "Q, what the fuck did I say?" Comes Vin's words over his shoulder. It tears his attention back, forth, he looks after her. Then back towards Vin and as if moved into motion by the man's voice he starts to head in the direction of the fallen dead man.
    But then she's already up the stairs, and the door in front of her leading into the office is still open even as the four burly men inside are with their backs to the door. Marco's not, he's behind his desk and looking across the way at her confused even as one of his men crunches some of the shattered glass under his foot, apparently he was kneeling trying to pick up some of the pieces.
    For a time there's silence between them and then Marco says, "Who the fuck are you?"

Batgirl (Cain) has posed:
    There is no answer given verbally. Even if Cassandra were able, she wouldn't bother.
    Her dark brown eyes lock on Marco and there is no doubt in her mind who is responsible. The other four participated but this man is the one who pushed Hector out the window. Marco is the one that needs to be taken down and quickly. His four thugs are not going to be very agreeable but she isn't too concerned about that.
    The fact she is not hidden behind a mask is lost on her. Truthfully, her mind isn't realy involved at this point. It is a need for retribution that drives her, pushing all worries about her identity away. Her mentor would be livid.
    She does have surprise on her side. They are just beginning to react to the words of their boss when she takes two steps and goes into a flying kick aimed at the closest thug. Even as she makes contact, she is using that momentum to spring board away from him directly at Marco himself, vaulting over his desk and trying to hit him square in the chest with both feet.

Quinn Alexander has posed:
    "I swear, freakin' Millenials." Vin's voice is filled with disdain but then he's catching the look on Quinn's face even as the kid steps over to stand beside him and over the dead body. To his credit, Vin frowns and looks to the kid, then back upstairs, then to the kid. His brow knits and he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his track suit. "Shit, kid. I'm all sorts of fuckin' sorry." Sincerity in those words for a moment, but then the edge returns as he tries to toughen Quinn back up. "Alright, let's get it done. C'mon ya goon."
    But Quinn's looking back towards the way, and he frowns to himself. Then he hears the 'Who the fuck are you?!' from Marco above and suddenly the crash and smash of sound and movement and impacts with shattering glass...
    And it doesn't sound good.
    Vin looks up, then back to the kid, then back up, then back to the kid. "Don't do it, Q. For serious."
    Quinn eyes Vin sidelong, frowning.
    "For reals, don't do it. World o'hurt, man."
    Quinn looks back up.
    "I ain't playin' here."
    And then there's a sudden rush of air next to the gangster button man as suddenly that kid isn't there anymore.
    "Aww cripes."

Batgirl (Cain) has posed:
    Bedlam.
    The office is in chaos now. One of the thugs is laid out on the floor, out for the count. The other three are trying to get around the desk. Marco is laid out on the ground behind the desk, a slight figure crouched above him and punching him over and over. Cassandra knows the others are coming. Somewhere deep in her mind, she knows. Yet for the moment, she has lost her ability to think tactically. She has to punish this man, the mobster who caused the death of the one below. She has to make him feel the pain and terror that man did, to think he is going to die at the hands of this devil disguised as a teenaged girl.
    She won't kill him. She isn't that far gone. But she is going to beat him until he thinks he is going to die. He might even wish he was dead considering the pain involved.
    One of the men comes around the desk and reaches for her. Immediately she grabs his wrist, twisting it sharply into a hold them bringing her arm down sharply. There is the sound of breaking bone and the man screams. Still holding that wounded arm, she tugs him and he follows only to have a foot come up and take him under the chin. He goes down like a ton of bricks.
    The second makaes it around the opposite side but he hesitates, falling into a side stance as he prepares to take her on hand-to-hand.
    The third has decided he's had enough of this shit. He pulls out a gun and aims it at Cassandra.

Quinn Alexander has posed:
    It's a short flurry of whumpfs, all in time with the thud and thump of the music, a quick series of seeming flickers in and out of existence that ends inside that room above with the tableau before him. All of which unfolds in front of him like some Greek tragedy of carnage. He spends a few seconds just /looking/ and he's seen a mess of mayhem laid out before, a few times when Marco has lost his temper, another time when the Jamaicans had tried to intrude on the east side of their territory. All of it was pretty wild.
    But this is something else entirely to see the crew... 'his' crew being laid out left and right and to see someone just whaling on Marco like that. Just beating the living tar out of him as he's wanted to do since he met the guy. But this is... it's going to go bad, he knows it. It always goes bad.
    Then the other men burst through the door, Lance is put down with a broken arm and a kick to the jaw that seems to make a mockery of the man's training he so often strutted around exhibiting. All those months of fake karate shouts by the guy and there he is on the ground.
    And then she's squaring up with Tony even while Joey is going for his... aw crap.
    "Hey, wait! She's... she doesn't!" Quinn's argument is offered even as he rushes over towards Joey and pushes him back against the wall.
    "What the fuck, Q?! Get the fuggaddaheah!" Joey stumbles as he grabs Quinn by the neck, the gun going off with a double report that is heard and now /that/ causes the club to lose its mind as people start screaming and fleeing.

Batgirl (Cain) has posed:
    Tony actually has a little bit of training. He goes for a strike and follows with a roundhouse kick. Cassandra blocks the arm, deflecting the movement to the side. She ducks backwards to avoid the kick and quickly steps forward to deliver a flat handed strike directly to the center of Tony's chest. He stumbles back with the force of the blow.
    She was aware of the one with the gun. She even noted the arrival of Quinn at the door, having missed him running in but he was there. In her mind, he had run in. She didn't catch that he had just appeared out of nowhere. It was as though things were in slow motion as the gun was raised. She would be able to see the flexing of the muscle in his arm and hand just before he pulled the trigger. It would let her dodge. That was one of her scariest abilities when facing a foe, when they thought she had the speed to dodge bullets. It was simply not being in that spot when they managed to pull the trigger.
    As she blocked another swing from Tony, she saw Quinn moving and suddenly the gun was out of sight briefly. Then there was the boom boom of a double report. Something ripped through her left arm, the force of the impact spinning her around and driving her backwards away from her opponent. There was a burning sensation along with pain. It didn't feel like the muscle was damaged but she didn't have time to check. Using the force of that gunshot, she twisted her body around and brought her leg up to kick Tony in the chest. She paused, leg still in the air, chambered it then fired hard at the man's face. He was down.
    She spun to face the pair struggling with the weapon.

Quinn Alexander has posed:
    A whirl around and she'll see the two men struggling, but to be fair it's more Quinn trying to get the gun away from the guy and the other guy just getting more pissed off. "I'm telling you, Q. You don't let go I'm..."
    But then he sees Cassandra lay out Tony in just a few precise movements, putting the guy down with such precision that it's almost scary. So Joey takes level aim, all the while proceeding to hold Quinn in that side headlock, "Buncha freaks in this town." He says even as his hands tighten on the trigger...
    And suddenly he's not there anymore, but instead some small distance to the side and /WHAM!/ straight into the wall, hard, hard enough to foul his aim as the gun goes off again.
    But almost instantly there's another /whumpf/ of shifted air as Quinn disappears from holding Joey to right behind Cassandra. Just a split second before an arm is over hers and then they're...
    /WHUMPF!/ In the hallway, the wood creaking as dust falls from the ceiling and they start to fall down a foot from being in the middle of the air...
    /WHUMPF!/ Into the back storage room, twisting now and turning as they both are almost in free fall.
    /WHUMPF!/ To the other side of the storage room.
    /WHUMPF!/ Out into the back alleyway where they both crash down onto the ground with him on the bottom taking the brunt of the impact and his arms letting go as he looks upwards, trying to catch his breath and he utters, "Oh man. Oh jeez." In between belaboured breaths.

Batgirl (Cain) has posed:
    This time she was ready when the gun barked. Cassandra wasn't anywhere near where it was aiming. Only, the man wasn't there any more either. Suddenly he was on the other side, head slamming into a wall. Her frown darkened as there was a shifting of air and Quinn was behind her. Without moving. She starts to turn but he already has touched her arm and suddenly the world goes crazy.
    There are noises and each time, she is in another place. Hallway. Falling in a storage room. On the opposite side of the room. Outside. Bam, bam, bam, one after the other in a disorienting mess. Physically, she's fine but mentally her brain feels like it's a little scrambled as the world just changed around her repeatedly in the span of seconds. That confusion has her landing hard atop him, staring at him with wide eyes for a moment before she pushes up and crouches over him, weight on the balls of her feet which are on either side of his body. The anger that had been on her face is gone. She just looks confused as she looks around the alley, making sure there are no threats. When she is sure, she looks down at Quinn as she stands, shifting so she is standing beside him instead of over him.

Quinn Alexander has posed:
    As for him he's lifting his hands to push the palms of his hands into his eye sockets as he groans and rides out the worst ice cream headache feeling ever, "Aw man, I'm an idiot." His shoe scrapes along the ground as he tries to get a handle on the feeling, shaking his head to the side a few times. But then he opens his eyes, blinking rapidly as if trying to adjust to the change in light.
    A mass of trash is knocked over as he sits up, one can falling to the side roughly. He groans again and looks across the way at her even as from above there's the sound of more men and out front they can hear the crowd inside the club rushing out onto the street.
    To her, he says lightly. "You... should totally run away." He nods his head a few times, then grabs his hand at the wall and tries to pull himself to his feet.

Batgirl (Cain) has posed:
    He did that. Somehow, he brought them from inside the club to here. He made them disappear and appear in the different places. Cassandra is lost on how he could have done it. He doesn't seem to have any technological devices he was using. Unless--powered. She isn't supposed to take on any of the costumed crowd or metas without Batman being present. That's one of the rules he had established for her early on. Finding out that the young man, who didn't fit with the gang he was part of, happened to be one has her unsure how to proceed.
    He had gotten her outside for some reason. Now he wanted her to run. Everything clicked into place. Just like when they were inside at the bar, he is trying to protect her. Her. After she wiped the floor with multiple thugs, he was afraid she would be hurt and tried to get her clear.
    She can tell he's in pain. It's apparent. Maybe using his abilities hurts him which makes what he did even more complicated. Maybe he just likes helping people. That must be it.
    Even as he is urging her to run, she is reaching out a hand toward him. An offer to help him get to is feet.

Quinn Alexander has posed:
    Getting to his feet, he holds up a hand as if to tell her that he's alright. "It's ok, s'ok, just... takes a little bit when I do it too fast." He says this as he straightens up and then turns to her with a plaintive look on his face. "Why did you do that? Do you have any idea how crazy that was?"
    Quinn steps forwards and looks up towards the side of the club. There are only a few windows on this side of the building, but nobody is looking out of them, yet at least. He looks back to her, eyes a bit wild. "You have any idea what they do to people?" He looks back at her, then to the building. "I mean... oh crap they have security cameras they'll..." He lifts his hands to rest them on either side of his head as if his headache was getting worse.
    "They'll find out your name and where you live and they'll..." He shakes his head, then he turns back to her. "Ok, ok look. I'll go get it. I'll... I'll smash it. Lots of stuff happening, they probably won't see me. I'll tell them you're an exchange student. Yeah, that... that should work."
    He turns to look back towards the building.

Batgirl (Cain) has posed:
    Security cameras. Cassandra knew the place had them but she hadn't thought about it at the time. There will be footage of her and what she's done. She isn't concerned for the reasons Quinn is. She didn't have a mask on and now there is something out there showing who she is and what she can do. That is going to compromise her in some way. She frowns and looks to the building herself as he mentions it before he starts talking about what the mobsters will do to her.
    She can't reaassure him. Not in the way a normal person would with little comments about things being alright and not to worry. She can put her hand on his shoulder, to try and tug him around to look at her. If she manages, she gives a shake of her head and tries to give him a reassuring look.
    He's still worrying about her. So strange. Most people are out for themselves. Yet here he is willing to go back into the lions' den in order to protect her identity. She points to him then to the mouth of the alley, suggesting that he should go the opposite direction from where he was intending. He thinks she should run, she feels that he should.
    She will need to get inside and get that footage. Although with the fired shots, some of the Crew were likely already on their way to the club. They would be able to help.

Quinn Alexander has posed:
    That causes him to look at her in confusion again, his eyebrows furrowing together like two caterpillars but he shakes his head. She tries to impart that information to him, that sentiment and he just sort of half-smiles a bit and shakes his head, "I have... /no/ idea what you're trying to say." But he looks over his shoulder, then back to her. "I'll be right back, but really..."
    He pauses and puts on his headphones, she can hear the clash of music playing inside.
    "You should run."
    And with that he looks to the side towards the wall and then /WHUMPF!/ he's gone.