4261/Spoiling the Mood

Spoiling the Mood
Date of Scene:	12 April 2018
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Rachel Cole-Alves, Spoiler

---

Rachel Cole-Alves has posed:
    The usual stench of Crime Alley is thick on the air. it's some mixture of refuse and stale urine, old factory smog, and desperation. Even the buildings seem to be washed out, more gray than coloured in the deep night. People would say it's because the brick and mortar is old but the cracked sidewalks and crumbling tenements still manage to evoke a sense of decay. What is this place? Why are people even here?

    Still, there's life. People are largely at home by this time of night, doing their best to avoid the unsavory sorts who give this place its name. On the far side of town a woman was mugged earlier by a man with a knife. Ifthere hadnn't been a vigilante watching she wold have ended up with her throat slit behind a dumpster over a couple of five dollar bills. Here, an old beggar peers blearily into the cold night as a pair of men dash toward a worn out alley.

    There are four of them so far, but two more are joining. It's pretty easy to tell the sides. A woman with copper-crimson hair and a nicely polished k-bar held against her left forearm wearing a grey tank top, fatigues, and black combat boots. Slender, about five foot six, and athletic. Surrounded by half a dozen men of various shapes and sizes.

"Ya!" The exclamation comes as the redhead lashes out suddenly with her knife. Her target dodges and she lunges inward, throwing a one-two combination punch to his gut that has him gasping. The man behind her moves to grab the redhead from behind. She twists, grabs his arm, hip throws him to the ground as two more round on her. It's the blade that evens the score. She's skilled with it and they have to be ever ready not to get cut.

    Bruised, sweating, and thoroughly pissed off Rachel Alves has found her fight for tonight. This gang isn't going to be mugging anyone else for awhile.

Spoiler has posed:
Stephanie Brown had been patrolling a little bit to the east, having gotten into a fight earlier tonight near Chinatown. Human paintings come to life, with knives and all that stuff. Crazy stuff. She'd gotten the chick and old lady they'd been targetting on a train and then went back to the rooftops. Two hours later, she was hanging out and trying to eat a Lunchables in peace, carefully stacking turkey atop cheese atop cracker.

"Bon appetit," she mumbers to herself, startign to stuff one in her mouth when she hears the scuffle from down the alley.

"Criminy," she mutters, setting aside her snack and pulling her mask down over her face, crawling to the edge to peer down and take a look. Uh oh. Even though the chick looked tough, Spoiler figured the odds might not be in her favor. Looks like she'd have to spoil the party.

She reaches into her back of tricks and draws out a road flare, carefully swiped from the trunk of a car too expensive for this neighborhood. A donation to the cause of justice. She lights and drops it, a careening, streaking wheel of fire lighting her way as she slides off the roof and tumbles down behind it, her cape catching in the air as she goes to join the fray.

Rachel Cole-Alves has posed:
    When the flare goes up everyone in the alley looks up at the same time. The unidentified marine seem to realize what happens first and uses the opportunity to punch the nearest of her assailants in the jaw with the hand holding the knife. Another gets a kick in the shin and lets out a stream of swear words in Portuguese before getting her knee in his gut.

    The rest are on to Rachel and move to grab her, two to a side. They manage to get the marine's arms behind her and drag her toward the ground. She lets out a snarl, sweat streaming from her face as she smashes her head into a man's jaw and drives her knife into his shoulder. With that side free she starts to flail about in surprisingly precise fashion, dealing bleeding wounds and punishing kicks like a wild animal until she finally is let go and tumbles to the alley floor.

    Now they're standing over Rache, lit up in the orange-red glow of the flare. She holds her knife aloft and one of them brandishes a crowbar while another produces a knife of his own. As they move to stand over her Rachel starts to laugh. It's a bit of a bloody smile, showing she's taken her own beating. She spits.

    "What's so funny?" One of the gangmembers asks.

    "Her." Rachel points past his shoulder.

Spoiler has posed:
Stephanie Brown isn't nearly as practiced or well-trained as Rachel, but she's learned to hold her own. She lands in a crouch and lashes out with a practiced, gymnastic sweep. She flicks her legs in a half-circle, taking ankles and hitting knees at the right angle to buckle. She manages to take two down at least, bringing them to the ground like sacks of potatoes hitting the asphalt.

"She shoots, she scores!" Spoiler says, nipping up with a flex of her back to come to her feet, putting her gloved fists out in front of her masked face. "What's a matter, boys, am I spoiling your fun?" Okay, that was a cheap joke, but she has to take the opportunity when it presents itself.

Rachel Cole-Alves has posed:
    "..." Rachel actually stares at Spoiler for a second after the cheqp joke, but fortunately so do the thugs. She drops two in a brilliant display of acrobatic ability and Rachel lungers as soon as the men turn to meet the new threat. The double take only lasts a split second; she's too busy putting her fist directly through a thug's face to worry wabout anything else.

    Rachel has two on her end while another has scrambled to his feet. He rushes at Spoiler brandishing a crowbar and lets out a yell. This? This is someone he recognizes. For her part Rache is trading punches with a 6'3" pile of muscle and tattoos. She's actually getting the worst of it until the guy pauses.

    "Tattoo on your right arm. You a marine?"

    "2nd battalion, 24th Marines."

    "You magnificant bastard. Oorah." The man on this guy's left looks a little nervous. This is justified when the marine turns on his companion and proceeds to break his nose. The guy falls over, poleaxed.

    That just leaves the one swinging for Spoiler's head with an iron bar.

Spoiler has posed:
Stephanie Brown had been a little distracted with Rachel's display of potency, mingled with the seeming comradeship with the guy she's tussling with. That said, she's not so oblivious as to miss the guy trying to make a home run out of her noggin.

It's a narrow miss as she ducks to the side, avoiding a swing close enough to knock her hood back a little. She peppers a few quick shots at the guy's ribs then drops and rolls, slipping to kneel just behind his leg. As she does, she pops a hand into her bag o' tricks and pulls out a stun gun.

She jabs it back, the prongs poking into the dude's calf as she presses the button and lights him up with enough charge to blow a lightbulb.

Rachel Cole-Alves has posed:
    The man jerks, lets out a brief yelp, and then starts to drool as his nervous system goes haywire. Then he falls to the ground. Now the alley is silent save for heavy breathing. It's just Rachel, the unnamed marine, and Spoiler standing in the dark.

    Rachel moves first. She takes a heavy breath and closes her eyes for a second. "You should get out of here before the cops show up. I- don't want to hear why or what you're up to. Just leave. And clean up." Marines exchange a brief look and the man nods once then turns and simply walks away.

    Rachel leans against the walll, closing her eyes for a second as she tries to catch her breaht. Her top is a bit torn and she's bloodied but she's alright other than the slight risk of a wardrobe malfunction. "...Thanks for the help." Spoiler and the lucky find of a fellow marine almost certainly came together to save Rachel's life tonight.

Spoiler has posed:
Stephanie Brown watches the guy run off. On the one hand, it's probably bad vigilante justice to let a guy get away just because he knows the victim. On the other hand, Rachel -is- the victim so she probably gets a say. Plus, Spoiler's already done enough running for one night.

"Yeah, no problem, it's, uh...it's what I do," she says a bit awkwardly, putting away her taser and straightening her hood. "You all right? I know you were takin' care of yourself, but still...those guys were rough customers."

Rachel Cole-Alves has posed:
    "...Yeah. I'm okay," Rachel relates, closing her eyes for a second. "They got off pretty light," she notes, glancing down at the men strewns around her feet. "You have some pretty nice moves. The outfit's interesting, but... That's not a bad thing." A hint of a smile follows that statement from Rachel.

    "So, you're... What is it. The Spoiler, I think?" Rachel peels a blue eye open to give Stephanie a proper once over form head to toe. "I got pretty lucky. Here looking for bad guys...?"

Spoiler has posed:
Stephanie Brown almost beams under the mask. She doesn't get nearly as much publicity as most of the other Gotham vigilantes, but Rachel's probably been paying closer attention than most. "Yeah. Spoiler," she says. "Um, I mean, honestly? I was mostly just having a snack when I heard the scuffle," she says. "It's been a busy night. But it's Gotham, y'know? We don't really do quiet." she says.

Rachel Cole-Alves has posed:
    "Yep. That's what I've heard." Rachel closes her eyes for a second and takes another couple breaths. Then she straightens and walks over to Stephanie. Slowly. There's no threat in it, and she even takes the tiem to wipe her knife on the sleeve of one of the downed men and sheathe it as she's coming close. "A snack, huh? I should take a page out of your book, actually. I thnk I've been on my feet forever."

    Rache picks up a shoulder bag from the darkness beside one of the dumpsters and puts it on, nodding once. "Don't let me keep you. You were right up there, right?" Rachel inclines her head toward the nearby building. "Nice trick with the flare. How many gangsl ike that are just running around out here anyway?"

Spoiler has posed:
Stephanie Brown nods, seeing how the woman tracked her movement. Definitely not exactly a civilian, but that guy did say Marines. "In this city? About a dozen at any given time, depending on who's out of Arkham at the moment," she says. "I think I have a Nutty bar in my pouch if you want one," she says.

"Stay safe out there. Marine or not...this is a dangerous place," she says. Of course, from her voice and build, this girl's probably barely out of high school, if she's out at all, so she probably should take her own advice.

Rachel Cole-Alves has posed:
    "...Nutty bar? Normally I don't take fod from strangers but... Nutty bars are great, actually." Rachel tilts her head slightly and then nods once, taking another deep breath. "Thanks for the warning, but trouble tends to follow me around." She squints slightly. "I'll totally take the nutty buddy, though.

    "You can't exactly hit a diner with me, can you?" There might be a joke in there somewhere. Rachel is smiling. Just a little.

Spoiler has posed:
Stephanie Brown considers for a moment, reaching into her pocket and pulling out the Little Debbie. She extends it in a gloved hand, "Well, I dunno, it might be violating the vigilante superhero codebook. I haven't checked my copy of it lately, so I get a little fuzzy on the later chapters," she says.

"But if you don't mind picking up the check, I'd kill for a cheeseburger."

Rachel Cole-Alves has posed:
    The little debbie treat is takened. Rachel wears fingerless black gloves, as it happens, and briefly clasps Stephanie's hand before taking the treat and giving a nod. "Sure thing, least I can do considering you just saved my ass." Or theirs. Really, for anyone who knows Rache it's anyone's guess.

    "Ready when you are, I guess. Are you going to pull back the mask?" There's a pause before Rachel adds. "If it helps I'm... basically in the club. I got into a lot of fights like this one back in New York City. I can't just watch them hurt people."

Spoiler has posed:
Stephanie Brown nods, "Yeah, gimme a sec, lemme change real fast. Good thing there are so many dumpsters here," she says. She runs down a short alley and moves behind the dumpster, working out of her costume quickly and stuffing it into her bag.

What emerges a few minutes later is a girl in her late teens, a young adult, with bleached blonde hair pulled into a ragged ponytail, a pair of purple tights and a white t-shirt with "Gotham Knights" printed across the front in the team logo. "Stephanie," she says, introducing herself and offering a hand to the taller woman. "Yeah, I can't stand bullies either."

Rachel Cole-Alves has posed:
    "I've dealt with way too many bullies," Rachel agrees quielty. She accepts the hand and shakes it firmly, taking the chance to look Stephanie over fro mhead to toe as she does."looking good," the redhead observes before turning slightly.

    "You'll have to tell me where is good," Rachel adds after a moment. "My name is Rachel by the way." She clasps her right hand in her left briefly, fiddling with a gold band on her ring finger. "But let's go, blondie." That nickname draws a teasing grin. Rachel's hair is pure copper - and probably natural. She has the freckles to go with it.

Spoiler has posed:
Stephanie Brown blushes a little bit herself, her pale complexion due as much to her being a night owl as it is to any indoorsy tendencies. Not that she was exactly a jock before. She did gymnastics and karate, but team sports were never really her gig. Plus, the sun in Gotham is more of a suggestion than a reality, thanks to the pollution.

"There's a place just down that way. Barb's. Not fancy, but it's local, at least, so you get actual food and not the flash frozen stuff." she says.

Rachel Cole-Alves has posed:
    "Sounds perfect." Rachel flashes Stepanie a bright smile, azure eyes twinkling slightly as she walks ppast her. It's fairly easy storoll the redhead takes, taking in the sights of the worst part of one of the worst cities in the USA. She doesn't seem to be particularly worried about it, however. Stephanie would note, walking beside and occasionally behind her, that Rachel actually has a well-concealed gun. It was probably hidden under a jacket earlier in the night but even without it most people would never notice.

Spoiler has posed:
Stephanie Brown does notice the gun, but isn't surprised. It's probably bright to carry a weapon in this part of town. And, unlike certain pointy eared hero types, she isn't particularly prejudiced against guns. While she's not sure she could ever shoot anyone herself, she understands why someone might feel the need - for the right reasons, at least.

Stephanie eventually falls into stride alongside, eventually leading the way to a small, cozy diner nestled on a street corner. It has windows open to the street and close booths, stained but comfortable, with well-worn leather and a 24 hour neon sign in the window.

"Hey there, kiddo," the waitress says in familiar fashion as she leads Steph and Rachel to a booth. "Glad to see ya found a friend, finally," she teases, taking orders before leaving the pair alone.

Rachel Cole-Alves has posed:
    "Come in here alone a lot?" Rachel asks, quirking a brow as the waitress walks away. Rachel watches the woman depart and then shfits slightly in the seat she's taken. She takes a moment to scan over her maenu and leans back, clearly relaxing into the leather seat she's been offered.

    The lighting is better here. Rachel is on the slender side but also muscular, built like someone who is very active, all the time, climbing, running, and probably fighting. She has a couple tattoos on her arms, in particular the Marine Corps insignia that the gang member had pointed out during their brawl. She is also a bit sweaty and obviously somewhwat worn out.

Spoiler has posed:
Stephanie Brown has the classic gymnast's build - petite, compact, with strong arms and coltish legs. No obvious tattoos or markings, although there is the gleam of a stud in one of her nostrils.

"Uh, yeah, I guess so. Like, being home wasn't always so good. Either dad would be home and things would be...messy. Or dad would be in the slammer or out on a job and Mom would be hammered. Either way, I usually had better luck getting homework done here than at the apartment," she says. "Plus, they have free wifi."

Rachel Cole-Alves has posed:
    "Free Wi-Fi? Jackpot," Rachel responds, laughing. Most places have free Wi-Fi these days, but in poor neighborhoods like this one it is still something that isn't a given even in 2025. She seems to be genuine in her approval at least, smiling as she leans back agianst hte seat.

    "I got lucky, I guess. My parents were great. Other people around... Not so much. I Was kind of a scrawny kid but I kept picking fights with boys twice my size." Rachel shrugs her left shoulder before adding, "I got my ass kicked."

    That statement seems to draw a grin, with Rachel's gaze daritng upward to take in the approachign drinks. She accepts hers politely and sips it before continuing. "I understand wanting to get away. I didn't have a diner to run to so I joined the marines instead. And I stayed in for four tours. That's --- six years." She glances down there and closes her eyes for a second.

    "Going to college now then?"

Spoiler has posed:
Stephanie Brown takes a sip of soda herself, grinning, "Yeah, I've taken a few licks a time or two. In school. At home," she admits. "My old man's in Blackgate serving five to ten now - plus he knows well enough now that I hit back," she says. Of course, her old man's current stint was courtesy of the Spoiler, which probably made it a little rougher, too.

"No college. I thought about signing up, like you, but...I dunno. Gotham's home, y'know? And I can still do good here. Right now, I'm mostly just doing odd-jobs, scraping by where I can. Cleaning and stuff, temp service," she shrugs, "Mom still lets me crash, as long as I buy her smokes and don't wake her up when she's wasted."

Rachel Cole-Alves has posed:
    Rachel nods slowly, sipping her drink and looking off across the diner. The waitress comes back to take their orders and a moment later Rachel orders, "...Onion rings, outback double burger with extra bacon, jalapeno poppers, milkshake... Peppermint." She glances at Stephanie. "What are you having?"

    When orders are out of the way Rachel breathes a quiet sigh. "Feels nice to relax a little. I stay way too tense. Probalby becaue of idiots like the dudes we were messing with earlier." She makes a face. "Does that mean you don't have anything you have to do tonight so long as the world doesn't catch on fire?"

Spoiler has posed:
Stephanie Brown makes her own order, "Reuben, extra dressing, steak fries and...y'know, what a mint shake sounds pretty good to me, too," she says. She doesn't want to take advantage but, at the same time, she's definitely plenty hungry. She's gotten a bit of a workout tonight.

"No, I think I'm done running rooftops tonight. The city will have to find a way to do without me swinging to the rescue for a little bit," she grins. "I dunno, you said you do a little. It's like a...compulsion. An itch. You gotta scratch it sometimes if you go to long without it."

Rachel Cole-Alves has posed:
    The appetizer arrives first. Steaming hot golden fried breaded jalapenos stuffed with chedder and cream cheese. Rachel takes one and pulls it in half to let the steam out before shoving both into her mouth. She ordered a *lot* of food. After swallowing Rachel finally replies. "If you have the power to help people then you should. Criminals don't take breaks either. Those people need to be stopped, so..." She nods once. "I stop them."

    There's a morbid finality to Rachel's tone but she silences it by eating another of her poppers. Shortly thereafter enormous milkshakes arrive, each with the mtal container they were shaken in on the side to be added when the glass runs low.

Spoiler has posed:
Stephanie Brown is detective enough to know that there are many ways to stop things, but she's not about to object. Again, she's not the judgmental type. Or, at the least, she doesn't feel a need to boss other people around and always make them do what she says. Unlike certain people.

"Lotta bad folks in this town," she sighs, taking a bite of her own french fries and adding a sip of the milkshake, her tongue swiping the cream from her bottom lip after a draw on the straw. "I kind of...fell into it a little bit. I grew up around scumbags and low-lifers. Probably a miracle I didn't end up one myself. Well, outside of a little shoplifting here and there," she admits.

Rachel Cole-Alves has posed:
    "I used to grab a few things when I was younger. Before the marines. They kick those ideas out of you pretty quick." Rachel speaks of the Marine Corps with an earnest fondness, her slightly rough voice softening slightly. "Yo useem like you turned out really well, whatever your familys like. that's the important part.Handling you."

    Rachel return to her food for a moment, sucking heavily on her straw before returning to the poppers. "Sure you wouldn't like one?" She asks, offering one of the golden morsels across. At the kitchen Rachel's burger is already up. It won't be long.

    "Anyway... Yeah. A lot of bad people in this town..." Rachel's voice goes a little distance when she repeats that sentiment. "Do you know how to find them?"

Spoiler has posed:
Stephanie Brown reaches out carefully and takes a popper, her nails trimmed short and clean as she brings it back and eats it with a swift gobble. "Spicy can be hard on my stomach. But a little won't hurt," she admits. "And yeah, I kinda figured it was rough. I've already had plenty of people roughing me up in the name of teaching me stuff. I figure I"m good," she says.

To the last question, she nods, "Sometimes. I know a lot of the bad hangouts. My dad...like I said...not a good guy. So I know his friends and their friends. And I know a few people who let me know things, sometimes. Not reliable, all the time. I'm not one of the favorites," she says. "There's kind of a...hierarchy around here, among the cape types. And I don't rate, usually."

Rachel Cole-Alves has posed:
    "If I rate on that scale it's usually a negative," Rachel replies uqietly. "But I do need to find someone. And I know he's in Gotham. I don't know anyone here. i was hoping you could help me get the lay of the land..." Rachel watches Stephanie seriously as she makes her request, marring the moment only by taking up another popper and holding it out to her.

    "I'll keep picking up the tabs," the redhead offers then.

Spoiler has posed:
Stephanie Brown nods, "Yeah, I'm pretty sure I'm a straight zero. It's the old little fish in a big pond syndrome. But that's okay, I still get my fill," she says. "Plenty of bad guys to go around," she says.

"But sure, I can help. I can at least point you towards the big gangs and their hangouts. The top guys usually have good lawyers, but I can pick off the thugs often enough to make him notice," she says.

Rachel Cole-Alves has posed:
    "Okay," Rachel replies slowly. "I have a list. We can go over it after we've had a chance to eat?" She glances at her bag, then reaches up just in time to accept the now arriving plate of steaming burger and onion rings. Steph's sandwich comes down a heartbeat later.

    "You were expecting to be up all night, right?"

Spoiler has posed:
Stephanie Brown gets ready to dig into her sandwich, "Oh yeah. I'm pretty much a night owl. Like a racoon or a possum. Only cuter," she says. "Well, I mean...there are some pretty cute racoons," she says.

"Sure, I can look at the list. I can't make any promises, but I know some names. And can maybe add a few here and there," she says. She eats wolfishly, showing signs of not having gotten a full meal probably in a few days, at least. She usually lives out of convenience stores, since a real grocery store is pretty scarce in this part of town. Even the mini-marts get robbed every other week.

Rachel Cole-Alves has posed:
    "There are some pretty cute possums too," Rachel offers, that smile teasing across her lips again. Then she pauses. "Nope, you're still cute. Close, though." With this she picks up her massive burger and takes an enormous bite. Rache likes her food. Her eyes roll back a little and shecan't elp smiling as she eats.

    "That sounds like the kind of place i'm looking for. Anything you can tell me will help. Thank you." Rachel dives into the onion rings next. "And if you're still hungry there's more food in the kitchen."

Spoiler has posed:
Stephanie Brown grins, "I admit, I'm usually hungry," she says. "Active girl and all that," she says. She eats her food with similar aplomb, scarfing down the corned beef and wiping her mouth frequently of the excess Thousand Island.

"Gangs in Gotham are fluid. Lots of shiftin' loyalties, since the big bosses get taken down fairly on the regular. The machine keeps rolling anyway, but...well, maybe there's something in the water, but Gotham has a lot of, um...well, I'll politely call them total fucking nutjobs," she says.

Rachel Cole-Alves has posed:
    "So I keep hearing. Most of what I read is a bit hard to believe coming from Brooklyn," Rachel admits. "But that doesn't matter right now." She tqakes another bite from her burger and spends a few seconds chewing while she studies Stephanie's face.

    "I know. I usually put down 4,000 calories like I did in the service. So why are you wasting time with an open check?" Rache gesturews to the menu. "And what about bosses who rose up recently? ...More on that in a bit. Hm." She pauses for a second. "Do you watch baseball?"

Spoiler has posed:
Stephanie Brown nods, "The Russians are currently on the rise," she says. "They've got a pipeline of drugs coming in from the Middle East. Connections in Afghanistan and Syria," she says. She seems strangely matter of fact for this stuff for a girl who's not quite 20 yet.

She orders a bit more food, adding a piece of pie as she finishes off her ssandwich. And she gets a refill on the fries. "Sometimes. Stadium's out in the rich part of town, so you gotta ride a lotta trains to get there. But I catch a few games on the TV now and again," she says.

Rachel Cole-Alves has posed:
    So much for changing the subject. "Russians..." Rachel gives a slow nod and then takes another bite out of her burger. "Sounds like we're already following the same geroups of people." She'll tear through her food between sentences. Rachel is cleary used to eating in a compressed amount of time and the way she moves reflects that now. Somehow she manages to avoid making any sort of mess.

    Once the food is done there will be a black notebook. There will be questions. Clearly there's someone in the Russian Mob that Rache is dying to meet.