3965/Closing Time

Closing Time
Date of Scene:	26 February 2018
Location:	Josie's Bar, New York City
Synopsis:	So, a Blind Lawyer, a Greek Ninja, and a Crippled Medium walk into a bar... There's a joke in there somewhere, if only I (Matt) could see it. Something about if the shoe (a Medium) fits..
Cast of Characters:	Elektra, Daredevil, Deadwatch

---

Elektra has posed:
Sunday night. Late February. Post Rising Tide. Post everything, really. Matt had refused to sign her contracts. She'd retaliated in kind by sending him files of her own. Other localized meetings had gone well enough but not left her satisfied. Even beginning to spread the word on underground channels of her nascent idea of a martial arts tournament hadn't left Elektra feeling anything but listless. Bored, even. Which was odd. Even the current push-pull of her current state with Matt should have been filling her with some sparks of interest.

Instead, she was finding herself itching for something different.

Which didn't explain why she found herself at Josie's on a Sunday night, pushing near closing time. Close enough to last call that were there any fewer in the bar, Josie might have considered closing down for the evening and sending everyone home early. That, or she was taking some pity upon the former regular. Even if said regular - Elektra - had been nursing the same drink for over an hour now.

Daredevil has posed:
Matt had few spare hours between his day job and his night one. Right now, was one of those hours. Lost in his head, Matt doesn't sense Elektra's presence at the bar until he's already half-way through the door. He hesitates, knowing to turn back now would tip Josie to the fact he was more aware of his surroundings than he let on, so sighing, and loosening his tie, he wanders into the bar pretending not to notice Elektra even while she filled all his senses with her presence. Coming up to the bar, he says, "Josie, I'll have a scotch, neat, make it a double," he says before settling down on a stool to wait for it.

Deadwatch has posed:
Another redhead with a cane limps into the bar only a few minutes after the first one, his forearm crutch and leg brace clacking in counterpoint to each other until he is all but knocked over by some some burly guy at the door frame. "Watch where yer goin!" the cripple growls and the big burly grizzled guy stops, and faces Nolan for a moment.. glaring.

"Watch yerself, gimpy."

Nolan raises a brow over one of his mismatched eyes. "Oh yes, Gimpy, how fucking sophisticated of you."

Burly narrows his eyes at the shorter redheaded man, seeming to loom over him. "I'd watch yer mouth if I were you. And yer attitude. I'm twice the man you are..."

Nolan quickly raises a hand, palm um to forstall the grizzly bear of a man. "Yeah no shit." he says, motioning to the pertruding belly. "I'd say you need to join Jenny Craig but I think you ate her, Porkins.."

This brings the large man to a complete pause.. for a moment.. then he guffaws and slaps Nolan on the shoulder (which almost sends the thinner man sprawling). "Hah! Good one! You'll fit in 'round here." he says and then saunters off, leaving Nolan grumbling and rubbing his shoulder.

"Fucking New Yorkers... This is why I don't leave Gotham." he grumbles as he limps deeper into the establishment and towards the bar. He then casts a quick look to his side, where no one stands, and whispers under his breath. "Yeah yeah, you don't have to point out the OTHER reason.."

Elektra has posed:
How's the saying go.. It never rains, but it pours?

It was rich enough that Matt Murdock not only wandered in, but was forced to save face by actually coming in fully and staying. It wasn't like Elektra wasn't aware that he'd caught on too late that she was there (which both told her he'd avoided the place other times, and made her wonder what had distracted him so this time that he'd failed to alert before making it as far as opening the door.. could it be the files she'd sent him?).

But when a second caned man comes in and nearly starts a brawl with a full quarter of the bar's current populace, well, that Elektra couldn't let go by without a smirk. And when big, burly, and in need of a diet has left, Elektra slowly applauds, gathering up her drink and making her way over to the bar to stand with deliberation beside Matt.

Let him suffer, she told herself. He'd made his bed, was it her fault if she chose to make him lie in it? No. He knew the stakes.

"Josie, a round for the boys here." She taps the bar in front of Matt. "Another of what he's already got, and whatever my foul-mouthed friend over there wants as well."

Daredevil has posed:
It was totally the files that had Matt in his head. He'd spent the day blowing off case work checking them over, confirming the details. He knew they'd be right, it wasn't Elektra's style to lie about something he could verify like that. It was eating at him, not that he'd admit to it.

When his drink arrives, he smiles and gives Josie a nod, "Thanks," he says, chuckling when she says if he was really thankful he'd pay his tab.

The confrontation between the new guy with the leg and Ted, the Burly guy, is listened two as he drinks them both in with his senses, sizing them up. In doing so he recognizes Nolan. But keeping up his act, he doesn't mention it, or act like he's heard any of what he's muttering under his breathe, until Elektra speaks, "Already got a drink," he says with a tight smile into the mirror behind the bar.

Doesn't matter to Josie though who makes the drink and puts it down in front of Matt. "Now you've got two," she says, money was money right?

Deadwatch has posed:
Nolan Voight sidles up to the bar on the opposite side of the applauding woman from the other redhead, resting his cane against the brass banister and pulling himself up on a barstool. He makes a sound, a grunt of pain, as his leg bends and the hinge of his legbrace creaks and he sets the sturrup on the lower foot banister. Before he can say anything Elektra places her order and he blinks at her once. "Well hell, maybe New York has gotten better after all." he states, offering her a grin. "Thanks, babe."

Of course, Nolan hasn't recognized Matt himself as of yet, since he only saw him from behind and also since their previous meetings had been very few.. at the very end of his sentence.

He turns to Josie as she puts down his drink after Matts and others and he withdraws an envelope from his jacket and sets it down. "Ah, /you're/ Josie, then. Good to see you again." he says, and if she seems a bit skeptical it only shows in a vague way as she looks at him, then the envelope. Nolan sighs and pushes the envelope across the bar to her. "You've been looking for this, Josie. Trust me" he says, his voice taking on a slightly.. resonant quality.

She looks at the envelope again and slowly picks it up. It is an folder manila envelope and when she opens it and peers inside... her eyes tear up slightly. "How.. Where...This isn't possible.."

Nolan softens a bit at the eyes and he offers her a sad smile. "He said you could move on, Josie.. With his blessing."

Elektra has posed:
Ah, Matt's reaction was not only predictably expected, but true to form as well. Really, if he'd wanted to provide her with something other than amusement he could have found more unique ways of resisting or retaliating. Like finding her in a dark alley after the bar closed... Instead he refuses a drink they both knew Josie would put down in front of him anyway. After all, not only was Elektra paying for the drink, both she and Matt knew he'd drink the thing.

He couldn't help himself.

The other, though... Not there was an anomally. And a breath of fresh air in the stale mundanity her life was quickly becoming since arriving in New York - even accounting for her takeover of The Hand. Not that she'd ever thought that would become her own equivalent of 9 to 5. Still, it was.

'Babe' she mouthed, tasting the word to allow not only her amusement, but to consider just how she'd react to that. The sheer audacity of the thing was refreshing even as it tweaked a desire for her to smack him down before he fostered any notions of making a pass at her. Then again, there was Matt, sitting front and center to what would be the show of it. Even if she knew he'd only allow it to go long enough for him to toss back first his initial drink, and then consider the second before turning away and returning home.

It was, she admitted, not a plan that allowed for an extended visit. Just as a sharp rebuke wouldn't do either.

Instead she opts to allow her glass to be a silent salute of the other man, and let him pick the path they went on, her glass lifted to him and a swallow of the same amber liquid that Matt was enjoying savoured even as she savoured what she knew would be Matt's discomfiture.

Daredevil has posed:
"Heh," Matt says when the second drink is provided. He doesn't look up from his drink, but he wears that tight, 'what can you do?' smile of his on his face. He takes another sip from his glass, studies the pair of them. What did he know of Nolan Voght, a murder case he inherited from an old law professor, one of the first he handled solo. The meeting would have been odd, a few days ago, but now, with Elektra here, after those files, it was down sinister.

"Don't open that," Matt blurts out to Josie, forget how he'll explain how a blind man knew there was an envelope to be opened.

But she does, and whatever's inside, Matt can hear the change in her heart rate, feel the shift in the temperature of her skin, he didn't need to see the tears to know that they were there. At least, whatever was in the envelope wasn't immediately deadly.

Matt stands, going through the motions for reaching for Elektra's arm, "Can I have a word with you?" it wasn't a question.

Deadwatch has posed:
Too late to stop, When Josie reaches into the envelope she pulls out a small tarnished St Nicholas pendent and she caresses it's burnished surface with a finger. She sniffles a bit and looks to Matt. "It's.. It's okay.." she whispers, then looks to Nolan. "Where did you... How did you...?"

Nolan is a guy who can expect many many things, and a good third of them are probably being smacked down by people he irritates by being either a jerk or a.. well.. Being a jerk is most of it, really. Or an asshole. There is a difference, right? He has very little 'filter'. But sometimes, like this very moment, he can be sort of a nice guy.

"A friend of a friend. Lets leave it at that, okay?" he says as he picks up his drink. "He said thank you, by the way.. or at least.. uhm.. thats what I heard." Yeah, sort of an untruth there. He knows EXACTLY what was said. And not through heresay.

Josie nods slowly, then wipes her nose with the back of her hand. "Right.. leave it at that.." she repeats, then waves down another bartender. "I need a few minutes. Thank you, Mister..."

"Nolan.. Nolan Voight." he tells her, raising his glass. She nods one last time and shuffles into the back, and Nolan leans back in his chair and looks at the Guy who tried to stop her from opening the envelope. "What, did you think it was gonna be a bomb? Or anthrax maybe? With me sitting /right/ in front of her?" he asks the lawyer.. and thats when it dawns on him. Lawyer. "Holy shit.. You're Matt Murdock!" he says... and then frowns as Matt has JUST turned to Elektra and speaks to her. "And she.. is way better looking then I am.. so thats fair." he admits to himself.. Not even thinking upon the absurdity of that statement considering he knows the lawyer is, well, blind as a bat.

Ugh.. Bats.

Elektra has posed:
The interchange between Nolan and Josie holds some interest for Elektra, but mostly as periphery. What care has she, really, as to what was in the envelope, or once it was revealed, in how the man discovered the medallion and returned it to its owner. At least it seemed Josie was the owner; that or the woman was shedding tears for some other undiscernable reason.

"I should hope I'm better looking," Elektra drawls slowly, each word said as something of a purr. If only to delay her response to Matt, whose hand is upon her arm.

Oh she looks pleased about that. Much like the cat who just got into the cream. Score one Elektra. And if she hadn't missed her mark, much of that score had to do with one Nolan Voight - she made a mental note to set her lawyers upon digging up information about Nolan. Given Nolan's recognizing of Matt.. oh, she had a good idea where the two 'knew' one another from, and exactly what was going through Matt's head. Elektra had no intention of disabusing him of that notion yet.

"Why certainly, Matthew. A booth? Though our friend over there might think us rude." She sighs as though hard done by, and faced with an impossible decision.

Daredevil has posed:
Matt can't make out what the medallion shows, not without touching, it but the size, speaks to what it is and the tarnish to its age. He cocks his head, to the side, asking, "What is it?" for the sake of the performance as he listens to the rest of what Nolan has to say about it.

"Sorry," he says. "Guess I am a bit jumpy, might be the company," the way he says it, even without a backwards glance, suggests its Elektra he means and not Nolan.

And now that he has the man's name, he says, "Good to hear your voice again, Nolan, I thought I recognized it," he says. "Can you give us one second?" he asks before turning back to Elektra; he didn't need to see her face to know how smug she was looking right now. "We won't need a both, it'll just be a moment."

Deadwatch has posed:
Nolan Voight is busy draining his glass of whatever it is that Elektra ordered for him, not much caring whether it is top shelf or bottom of the well. They both get you to where you want to go, right, though bottom of the well does it much cheaper.. and he isn't one to complain about alcohol anyways so long as it isn't fruit juice and tomato paste fermented in a plastic bag stuffed into the tied off leg of a prison issue khaki jumpsuit and hidden a prison cell toilet.

Yeah, best not to dwell on that.

HE sets the now empty bottle on the bar and grins at Elektra. "Yeah, I don't think you need to hope /too/ much, doll." he jests, , having NO IDEA how dangerous the lady is, then looks to Murdock and snorts. "It was a St Nicholas medallion. Thats all you need to know. And Of course you're jumpy. You're a blind /lawyer/ in a bar of Hells Kitchen criminal misanthropes.. NO OFFENSE!" he calls out half mindedly, and actually gets a few 'None Takens' in responses as well as at least one 'Whats a miss.. missan... What he said?'.

Nolan looks between the unlikely pair a moment then grins. "But yeah, have a second.. Have two even. Take all the time you need to show her your briefs.. I mean your Brief. " he ahems and look at the tender. "I'll have another."

Elektra has posed:
Elektra's lips purse into a moue of disappointment. "I'm hardly a misanthrope," she murmurs, carefully and delectably omitting the 'criminal' from her protest, so as to not allow Matt any wiggle room to pin her down with.

And of course Nolan's drink is whatever he wishes. Top, bottom, or middle shelf. Josie seems willing to pour from any bottle he asks for.

And, yes, it's perhaps just as well Nolan has no idea how dangerous a game he plays, and with how dangerous a woman as Elektra he's playing with. She gives Nolan a thin-lipped smile of pleasure, even as she murmurs to Matt, "Well, then, if we don't need a booth, my dear Matthew.. I have no secrets." Oh, the lies! "Anything you can say to me, I'm sure can be shared with our dear friend Nolan."

Daredevil has posed:
Matt gives Nolan, something of a cocky smile, "Actually, I'm a regular, trust me, it's just her," he says not even trying to hide the source of his irritation. "Alright," he allows about the medal, though his face speaks of his curiosity.

Turned, and with his hand on Elketra's arm, Matt says about her being a misanthrope , "Sure you are, you can tell by all the friends you don't have." His nostrils flare in annoyance when she doesn't step away, "Really, that's how you want to play this?" he says. "Fine,." He let's go of her arm and sits back down. "We'll talk about this later."

Then, for the change of subject, he asks Nolan, "So, Mr. Voight, what have you been up to since last time we crossed paths, keeping your nose clean I hope?"

If he couldn't get Elektra to volunteer her game, he'd go right to one of her pieces, or well, the person he thought was one of her pieces, Nolan Voight.

Deadwatch has posed:
Nolan Voight attempts to allow Murdock and the woman have a few moments, nodding to the tender as his drink is refreshed. For all intents and purposes he seems to be ignoring the lawyer and his hottie as he nurses his beverage, but really he is hunched over his drink, whispering so as no one can hear him.. or see the more neutral and serious look on his face.

"Yes, I saw them all. I'm not /blind/ like our lawyer friend there.." he almost sub-vocalizes, then pauses to sip his drink but is actually listening intently to something. Of course he wouldn't know that Matt can hear him but thats all Matt WOULD hear. there are no responses he could pick up. Nolan wears no hidden radio. It is like he is talking to someone NEXT to him. "Look, we'll discuss this later. Just talk to them and ask them..." he pauses again.. "Right.. the standard price."

Then, almost immediately as Matt speaks to him, , Nolan turns on his barstool (again wincing JUST a little as his leg moves) and faces Elektra and Murdock, grinning as if nothing happened. "And I noticed she didn't deny being a criminal, either. Is she another lawyer?" he asks, of course insinuating (jokingly) that one a lawyer is just another kind of crook. He sips his drink once more then sets it down. "And yep. My nose is clean. My veins are clean. Straight and Narrow, thats me!" he chuckles. Funny, that. Matt is a human lie detector, right? Super senses? So.. Nolan is NOT lying about being straight, though Matt could SURELY smell or taste the barbiturates and pain killers on Nolan's scent. Prescription stuff, if Matt is knowledgeable, but very strong. yet Nolan seems completely lucid. As for the straight and narrow part? Maybe a bit of a lie.

Elektra has posed:
"Oh Matthew," Elektra murmurs, knnowing she's got him where she wants him. He's irritated and losing his edge. Possibly because of their 'guest'. Possibly, and she hopes this is it, because of the files she's sent him. And the two he'd received weren't the worst of the lot, even. By comparison, tomorrow's would be cruel, and even then, /it/ wasnn't the worst of the lot. Of course, it was his own damned fault. If he wanted to believe his ethics were greater than hers, far be it from her not to demonstrate his shortsightedness.

One Langston P. Hughes. Release on a technicality. Robbed a corner five and dime at gunpoint a week later, shooting the proprietor, one Michael T. Ryerson. A man who not only couldn't pay his hospital bills, but couldn't afford the upkeep on his shop. The family lost shop, and home within weeks. The man still couldn't work. Relocating to a poorer neighbourhood had left the family in dire straights, including their son Michael Jr who had lost a full scholarship to Rhodes - his new school district didn't support either sports, or have the chops in academics his old one did, and facing down bullies on a daily basis, as well as trying to help out around the home with bills by taking two part time jobs on top of full time schooling, had dropped Michael's grades from straight A's to pity C's. In short, had Langston not been freed, the Ryerson family's life wouldn't have been ruined.

As long as Matt could sleep at night for allowing the man a second chance, though.

Her smile when Matt sits down again is a short-lived thing. Especially as he ignores her. That was the thing in these games, you often ended up stabbing yourself in the foot as well. And her irritation is clear in how she downs the remainder of her drink and taps the bar for another.

Daredevil has posed:
Matt's head twitches at the jumbled information his senses bring back about Nolan. He was mostly telling the truth, but, what he could smell on him, didn't line up with that. Not that he could call him out on it and keep his secret. "She wishes," Matt says of Elektra's profession, "She's much worse, a socialite."

As for the rest of what Nolan mutters, it's noted and catalogued to try and make sense of later. Somehow, he figured this night was going to end with him putting on the suit for a trip to Bat Country. He wasn't looking forward to that.

As for the files, today's had been bad enough, Todd Bernhard, got loose on a technicality, after running into the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, once he got out of jail and could walk straight again, he beat his live in girlfriend so badly, she was blind in her right eye now. Lost her job and was working a stroll in Midtown. She was definitely getting to him. So, when he hears her getting huffy about being ignored and she taps the bar for another, he says, "Got a spare drink if you want it."

Deadwatch has posed:
Nolan Voight raises a brow, the one above his blue eye, as he looks between the pair. He isn't one who is very well versed or experienced in relationships in any sense of the word, especially with people who have a heart beat, but.. damn.. even HE can sense that there is something intense going on between the two. He's not sure what that intensity /is/ mind you but whatever it is, it is paradoxical to say the least.

"Socialites /exist/?" he finally asks, trying to play the idiot.. or at least the social unsophisticate. "I thought that was something tv producers came up with for soap operas. You know, like on Passions.. Uhm, not that I WATCH passions, mind you.. Do you watch..." he stops /right/ there. "Oh.. right. Foot in mouth." he ahems.

"But yeah... so... What am I up to... I'm a detective these days I guess." he tells Matt, and his not-girlfriend. He pauses a moment for some reason (listening) then quickly adds. "Not liscenced of course." it's like someone had to remind him. I'm a convicted felon. I can't get a private investigators licence. It's more of a... hobby."

He looks to Elektra now. "So what does a socialite actually /do/ anyways.." Especially as socialite who has a congress of ghosts (yes, thats a PROPER collective noun) around her. Which he does NOT look directly at. He is trained enough in that respect, even if he sometimes slips and talks to thin air. You have to be when you have no choice but to see /every/ poor soul that /hasn't/ fully crossed over yet. If you don't want people think you are nuts.

Elektra has posed:
Matt's offer of his second drink is pointedly ignored in favour of the one Josie pours for her. That one Elektra's fingers tighten around, but she doesn't drink. Not yet.

"What does a socialite do?" The words are spoken with the fainted of edges of darkness to them, as though Matt's made a filthy thing of her life - and as though of all the myriad of things that she could claim as 'profession', socialite is the dirtiest secret amongst them. "Whatever I please, I suppose."

It's likely a good thing she's unaware of the congressional collective hanging about her.

Daredevil has posed:
Matt would have a dozen sputtered replies to any suggestion Nolan, made that he and Elektra were still a 'thing'. As those spurious lies remained unspoken, Matt calmly sips what remains of his drink. Smiling at Nolan's questions. "They do," he says. "And she's more or less right, they drive fancy cars," some of which are even hers, "Throw fancy parties and get people with more money than God to give a little up for charity to feel good about themselves," a glance is thrown back at Elektra. "Miss anything?" he asks. As for Passions, he let's that slip go by. Though he'd admit a couple sick days when he had his sight, he might have seen an episode or two.

"Huh," he says about Nolan's career choice. "If you've got a card I'll take one, might need someone to poke into things in Gotham some time."

As for the congress of ghosts, if Matt could see them, he'd be horrified, but oh so very smug.

Deadwatch has posed:
Nolan Voight wows.. the back and forth between the pair, even when it isn't direct, is almost /as/ entertaining as Passions.. Not that he watches it. Of course he watches OLD seasons, but they lost their charm when the actor who played Timmy died... Poor Timmy.

"Wait, so she..." He looks from Matt to Elektra, "/You/ spend money on parties so hoighty toity rich people can donate their scraps money to charities?" he asks. He then frowns. "Wouldn't it just be cheaper to, oh I dunno, donate directly to the charities yourself? Less overhead? Or am I missing something?" he asks, then looks to Matt more directly.

"A card...?" he asks, like he didn't hear him, then OHS> "Right.. A card!" he says and he presents his bad hand (the one with the scarred and almost gnarled fingers) to to the BLIND lawyer and with a flourish a cheap laser printed card appears!

Again.. to the /BLIND/ Lawyer..

Give it a second...

"Oh.. Right!" Nolan exclaims.. again as if someone had PRODDED him, and pushes the card into Matt's hand. "Uhm, you got someone to read that for you? Or some doohicky? I never thought about putting braille on my cards.."