7993/Random Encounters

Random Encounters
Date of Scene:	22 June 2019
Location:	Josie's Bar, Clinton
Synopsis:	Elektra surprises Frank at Josie's and they have a drink. Nobody gets offended!
Cast of Characters:	Frank Quaid, Elektra

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Frank Quaid has posed:
Frank is sitting at the bar at Josie's, two beers in. He is not a regular here. He sits facing the bar, glancing up at the TV and chatting idly with Josie. His Blackberry is facedown on the bar. It keeps buzzing and he keeps clicking the button to silence it without looking. He checks his watch and stretches. He is wearing brown suit with a white shirt, though his tie is missing.

"Can you believe that? One of my girlfriends works there," Josie says of Mt. Sinai when news about the attack there flashes on the news.

Frank shakes his head and drinks from his beer. "It's pretty unreal. That kind of thing shouldn't happen."

Elektra has posed:
Elektra, unlike Frank, is a regular at Josie's. She doesn't have a tab, but she has been known to randomly pay Matt and Foggy's tab. Sometimes the rest of the gang, too, depending on her mood. Never often enough for them to count on the kindness. It was the randomness of it all that pleased her.

This evening she's looking for a few quiet moments. Matt is busy with a case. She's decided not to patrol - at least not until later. Things are settling down after that arrest fiasco - she's still planning her revenge, but like the saying goes, it's a dish best served cold.

Elektra has time.

Seemingly without looking (though you can be certain she's very aware that it's Frank she's sitting herself beside) Elektra takes the stool beside the Captain, and orders herself one of the top row scotches. "Leave the bottle down. I'm sure this one will need company," she says of the shot poured and placed in front of her.

"We live in exciting times," she murmurs as she sips her drink. She means it in the most prophetic of ways.]

Frank Quaid has posed:
"Hmm," says Frank while looking up at the screen. "Too exciting. New York used to be a nice, quiet place. Well, quieter."

Frank drinks from his beer and glances over at his new companion. He looks forward again and frowns slightly, thinking.

"At least this place is alright. Imagine coming to Hell's Kitchen for a little peace and quiet," he says dryly.

Elektra has posed:
There's a dry little chuckle from Elektra, the woman murmuring, "Oh, you're in the wrong place if you're looking for quiet here. You could set your watch by the altercations. Every hour on the hour. On the halves on weekends." There might be some exageration there, but not too much.

"Do you drink scotch?" Her question is apropos of nothing, but it seems she's offering to share.

Frank Quaid has posed:
Frank gives a snort at that.

"I'll watch my step then. I'm too old for Friday night-brawls," he says.

Frank looks over when the offer is made. "I do, but I usually pick from further down the...." he stops mid-sentence. There is a flash of recognition and then Frank laughs. It is somewhere between sardonic and good-natured.

"I really should watch my step. All kinds of people in places like this," he quips.

Elektra has posed:
Elektra grins at the flash of recognition and shrugs. "I'd stay out of the alley behind the joint if I were you. That is if you're serious about avoiding a Friday night brawl. It's usually safe enough in here. Josie doesn't put up with business like that."

Which was nothing but true. You wanted to bleed, you could do that outside. She liked her clientelle whole, hearty, and with their asses in chairs ordering drinks like the good lord intended them to.

Frank Quaid has posed:
"Oh don't worry, I've had enough alleys for a while," he says. He has a brace over his nose and two yellowing black eyes. He was not a terribly attractive man to begin with and the added effect is not helpful.

Frank twists a bit so he can offer a hand to Elektra. "I don't think we actually got introduced. Frank Quaid," he says. After she replies he nods toward the bottle. "If you really were offering, I won't say no."

Elektra has posed:
"At the risk of offending," Elektra says, waiting a moment before turning herself, so her words come while she's watching him in the mirrored glass behind the bar, "You might want to brush up on your brawling skills before taking on the next contender. I know people who can help with that."

Hell, she /is/ people who can help with that.

She turns now, and regards him with a slow drag of gaze over his form, settling finally by meeting his eyes, her lips curled over amusement. "Elektra Natchios. Nice to meet you Frank Quaid. And I never say anything I don't mean."

Her hand meets his easily as she gives that greeting, shaking it in a firm businesslike shake. If he's the sort who would notice, she's callouses in places that a socialite shouldn't really have. But then again, her arrest might have clues to that.

When the handshake is completed, she pushes the bottle of scotch towards him. "I do hope the other man looks worse?"

Frank Quaid has posed:
"That's good to know, Ms. Elektra Natchios," he says. He waves to Josie for a glass and pours himself a drink.

"To random encounters," he toasts Elektra with a wry smile. He takes a sip and nods appreciatively.

"She, actually. And no, she looks just fine," he says and shakes his head. He looks a bit sour for a moment but it passes. "Just fine. But, we don't catch them all, eh?"

Elektra has posed:
"Elektra will do just fine," she corrects him, waiting for him to pour before lifting her glass to his salute. "Random encounters."

When Elektra hears it was a 'she' there's a laugh, "Ah yes. Well, news for you, Frank, not all the fairer sex got the memo that we shouldn't know how to throw a left hook. I know a gym if you ever want a lesson or two. Unless I mistake matters and this was a mutual sort of agreement you and she?"

Frank Quaid has posed:
Frank snorts.

"Oh, I know that well. Half my people are the 'fairer sex' these days, and they're not messing around," he notes and tips his glass slight in Elektra's direction. "And power to them."

"What's this gym you're talking about? Is it the kind of place I can hang out?" he asks gamely with a bit of a smile.

Elektra has posed:
Elektra swirls her scotch before taking a considered swallow. "I prefer not to mess around. It saves explanations and apologies later. Then again, if people fail to take you at face value, that's hardly my fault."

Elektra, as it happens, has run into too many people who saw a pretty face and failed to recognize the threat she offered. More fool them.

"A gym a friend of mine owns. Something of a sentimental purchase. Though rightly he'd be the one deciding if you had free access. However, as a guest.."

The suggestiong trails off. As far as idle chatter goes, this has to beat the weather.

Frank Quaid has posed:
Frank eyes Elektra for a moment looking vaguely amused, until he makes a 'huh' kind of face and nods his thanks.

"Sure, I'll check it out. Elaina's always telling me to get a life," he smirks self-deprecatingly. "That where you trained?"

Elektra has posed:
"Elaina the one with the wicked left hook?" Elektra chuckles. "She'd be right regardless. Patrolling the streets gets you nothing more than firm calves and a bitter dispostion. And no, that isn't where I trained. At least not for the bulk of my training."

Her drink is downed and another poured. Not that he'd know it, but that gesture is a new one - prior to her death she'd only have sipped at her scotch, and even then she could nurse one for an entire evening and still have more than half left. In her profession lives were lost over less carelessness. Though since her death alcohol brought nothing more than the comfort of a memory.

Frank Quaid has posed:
Frank's ears prick up a bit. "Yeah, she does. She boxes, actually. Has for years," he says. His look is definitely a touch more guarded. Something clearly made him suspicious.

"The bulk of your training? What'd you train in? I'm gonna guess... Something sharp. To the point. Krav Maga," he says with a nod. He drinks a bit more while he considers his drinking partner.

Elektra has posed:
"Amongst other things," Elektra agrees vaguely. "I managed to pick up a little martial arts here and there. You know me, always looking for excitment."

She looks utterly amused as she says it. Partly because he doesn't know her. And partly because adrenaline had been her drug of choice. Beyond her training, Elektra had actively sought out contracts specifically for the rush. All things he wouldn't know. All things she wasn't sure were true anymore.

Frank Quaid has posed:
"A woman out for a thrill," he says. "Kinda figured. I don't run into the Pintrest crowd much. I didn't figure you for local, though. I guessed out of town, maybe even European. Though you didn't say much, so I didn't have a lot to go on," he says with a wink. He pours himself another drink and silences his Blackberry again.

Elektra has posed:
"Greek, actually," Elektra gives him for free. "My father was Hugo Nachios of Hellas International. Though he was better known as an Ambassador." And for his murder when she was quite young. "I'd think that were enough that a clever man like you could do a thorough search. If you haven't already."

Her lips purse in a slight nod to amused. The sort of amused that offered a slight challenge.

"I have made New York my home of late." Which doesn't go far to explaining why she's here in Hell's Kitchen. Or, raather more specifically how she'd been arrested where and how she had been.

Frank Quaid has posed:
Frank Quaid says, "Really?" he says with a go figure kind of expression.

"Didn't see that coming. Truth is, I put you out of mind the second I walked out the door," he says plainly with a shrug. "Not my wheelhouse. And I've got more than enough on my hands," says with a nod toward the TV.

"You carry on the family business then? You're not the idle rich type.""

Elektra has posed:
Elektra's rich alto laugh says she's not insulted by either his not being intrigued by her, or the idle rich comment. "Oh, don't be fooled. According to the scandal rags I was both idle and rich for years, speanding my father's money hand over fist with the ennui only a spoiled debutante can muster."

Which also seems to amuse her, and not only because it was an image she'd allowed to be cultivated as it hid her true nature rather well.

"I wasn't always interested in the family business." She shrugs lightly. "Things change. Your perspective shifts. The world looks different." In truth, what had happened was one Matt Murdock had spurned her upon her return, and in a fit of pique and trying to make him regret that, she'd found herself not only embroiled in the business, but over time, caring about it as well.

Frank Quaid has posed:
Frank chuckles.

"Sounds decadent. I won't ask for details," he says of those years.

"Gotta be a pain having all that attention on what you do. Me? They care for 15 seconds when I do a press release and then I fade away," he smiles. "Commissioner has to deal with all that. Though I hear he's dating that Persian woman from Channel 6 news, so I guess it isn't all bad."

"What changed your mind about the business?" he asks curiously. He clicks off another buzz. Frank glances at the door when it opens and he frowns slightly, then turns his attention fully back to Elektra.

Elektra has posed:
"The trick is deflection," Elektra says quietly, again swirling her drink, though this time she doesn't sip. "Take you, for example, you wear your position like a garment. It hides everything else. People know who and what you are by your bearings. They give little thought to the man behind the uniform. Sometimes to their folly, I would imagine."

"It's a thing that allows us to hide in plain sight, wouldn't you agree?"

"Why?" Blue eyes peer over the edge of her drink, held to lips, and then set down again. "A man. Isn't that always the reason?"

Frank Quaid has posed:
Frank smirks and takes a drink. "Observant," he comments and shrugs. "Don't know about folly, though. I'm just another cop." There is no false modesty there. He clearly makes no claim of being exceptional.

He shakes his head at the man comment though.

"That's hard to believe. Must be some guy. You've got your pick, I'm guessing. Intelligent, rich, beautiful. You got it all," he says. He is aware of Elektra as a woman, the occasional glance says that much, but he is mostly devoid of the male gaze where Elektrais concerned. Whatever she is in his mind, that kind of target is not included.

Elektra has posed:
"It's always folly to believe the lies a person chooses to show the world," Elektra says. "Then again, most people are quite happy to tell themselves all sorts of things that aren't true. It makes their lives easier."

If Elektra has noticed that Frank isn't giving her the usual song and flirtatious dance of the male peacock, she makes no sign of it. In truth she found that rather boring. More to the point, it wasn't the way to get her attention. It never had been.

"I suppose that all depends on your definition of some guy. I believe he's worth it." Then she laughs, her lids dropping just enough to hide the look in her eyes as she remembers. "Though I suppose if you'd asked me that say a year ago I might have spoken differently."

Frank Quaid has posed:
Frank chuckles and shakes his head. "Boys, I tell ya," he says. His eyes flick to the middle of the room and back. His phone buzzes again and he finally flips it over. He makes a bit of a face and pockets it.

"Sorry," he apologizes for using the phone in conversation. "Ride's coming. Finally. You come here much? I probably shouldn't ask, but do you know the black kid by the wall in the Lakers jersey?"

Frank does not look over again. If Elektra does she may well recognize him. Tom Belford. Early 20's, mutant with really rubbery skin. Called 'Jiggles' on the street, which gives him a permanent chip on his shoulder. If Elektra is tuned in, she'll know he recently got beat and ditched by his supplier, but showed up again just recently selling crack. Who knows where he's getting it though.

Elektra has posed:
"Enough," Elektra answers enigmatically of how often she comes here.

Her glance checks out the boy Frank refers to, all without any obvious gesture or movement. It's almost like she's scoped out crowds.. or targets.. before. "I've seen him. I didn't have a name." She'd seen any number of the same when she'd ruled the Hand. He'd not been one of hers, but when she'd cleared out the neighbourhood around the Hugo building, there had been a few who'd thought the place easy pickings.

They'd been wrong.

"Trouble, or nuisance?"

Frank Quaid has posed:
Frank opens his mouth to answer then decides better of it and finishes his drink. "Not sure. Know what? Forget I mentioned it."

He rolls eyes and pulls out his buzzing phone. "Well, I'm out of time," he says. "Where did you say that gym was again?"

Elektra has posed:
"Hardly," Elektra says, whether by way of she'll forget it, or he's opened that door.. too late now. Either way, her glass is lifted to Frank as he makes to leave. "And I didn't."

She grins. "Another time, Frank. Do be careful out there."

Frank Quaid has posed:
"I will, you too," he says and offers a hand. "Thanks for the drink. That's good stuf."

Frank leaves cash for Josie for his own drinks before Elektra arrived and gets up. He gives Elektra a smile. On his way to the door he casts one last glance at Jiggles.

When he opens the door, the tall figure of Detective-Sergeant Elaina Bever can be seen leaning against an unmarked Tahoe out front. Judging by her expression, she is saying something snarky to Frank.