gunslingerpose | Hollywood, LA, Wednesday Night Fandom Time

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Hollywood, LA, Wednesday Night Fandom Time

"You're fuckin' kidding me, right?"

Gorgon was going to just sort of stand and gape at the Seventeen who was standing there wearing a welding mask, gun held in one hand, backpack full of drugs over one shoulder.

"I mean, you can't really be stupid enough to think that's going to work. Please tell me you're really not that stupid."

"Shut up, freak! I wanna see you drop me with those fucked-up vampire eyes of yours while I'm wearin' one of these!"

"If you say so."

Gorgon flashed his goggles.

The Seventeen froze in place, eyes locked on his.

Gorgon shut his goggles again.

The Seventeen dropped like a brick.

"You assholes get dumber every time I meet you," Gorgon muttered as he reached into his motorbike's saddlebags for his zip-ties and a road flare. "Psh. Welding mask. Come on."

[OOC: NFB for distance, but open for phone calls or what-have-you! I'll be scarce until after work, though. Sssh, I'm being sneaky.]

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Dinah hadn't talked to Nick since before Christmas; and she had a moment here on stakeout, waiting for who she *hoped* was a slightly nuts meta with the ability to transmute materials into each other to try and break in to a jewelry store.

*riiiing*

Well, damn. There was a ringtone Nick didn't hear often. And here he was, zip-tying that idiot Seven to a freaking telephone pole.

Ah well. The guy wasn't going anywhere, at least. Heh. Welding mask.

"Well, if it isn't my old partner! How's it goin'?"

Yeah, okay, so he didn't generally stop to take phone calls while he was out fighting crime. He'd make some exceptions from time to time, here. For Dinah, why not?

"Doing good. Or trying, anyway," Dinah said settling in on the nearby roof. "I'm on stakeout, and I'm bored. How's west coast life treating you?"

"Oh, you know. Back to the Hollywood grind," Nick replied, cradling the phone between his shoulder and his ear as he sorted through his selection of zipties. Stupid this dumb needed to be tied up extra. "Work's been keeping me busy, and there's never a dull moment."

If Dinah was really listening, she'd probably hear the loud and fast zzzzzzzt! of another tie being pulled tight around the Seven's wrists.

"Stakeout, huh? Well, that's gotta be fun."

"Half the time yes, at the moment, no." What was that weird sound? "Are you working on the computer?" She shook her phone to make sure it wasn't something at her end. "We had a breakout at the local asylum here about a month ago. Crime's way up, I'm picking up extra work trying to track down stuff that's been stolen. Or might be exchanged like right now."

Hey, that was even almost the truth!

"Any of your clients do anything particularly dumb or exciting lately?"

"Oh, you know. Same old tabloid bullshit. Same old damage control," Nick rattled off, crouching down and reaching for the Seven's gun, emptying it of bullets. So, there was the sound of metal hitting pavement now too. For good measure. "And yeah, working on the computer, absolutely. You know how it is, going over stuff for my clients and all."

His clients clearly included bullets in that e-mail, okay? That was just how they rolled.

"Shitty deal with the breakout, though. You getting enough rest over there?"

Okay that was a very familiar sound... and it had nothing to do with computers. Dinah was wondering what the heck Nick was doing, and what he wasn't telling her.

"Enh. A friend of mine-- do you remember Priestly, from Halloween? -- he got grabbed by one, and roughed up. So. Not so much with the sleep lately, I admit." Dinah grimaced, zeroing in on a movement in the back alley behind the jewelry stores. In-ter-es-ting. "Luckily the police caught her and she's back in the asylum. Soooo much fun."

Hmmm. "So what are you doing for fun, or do you not have that any more now that you're back in L.A.?"

The gun, now emptied, was going to go juuust out of the Seven's reach, with feet or otherwise. Because he wasn't one for taking the evidence with him, but it wasn't like he was going to make it easy for this guy.

"Name rings a bell, I think," Nick allowed. "Shame he got hurt, but it's good to hear they got the one who did it. He going to be okay? And ha, like I have time for fun. It's work, work, work these days. I have a lot of catching up to do. You know, this sort of thing waits for no man. I guess there's the commute, though. I take my bike around a lot, that's got to count for something."

"Pretty much, yeah. He went to a friend's place in Texas to get away for a while, get his head together. Came back out of the desert cracking jokes about horny toads and spirit animals, so I think he's good for now." Dinah grinned. "I'm not keeping you from anything important, am I? A press conference? An arraignment?"

"Heh, sounds like he'll be just fine," Nick decided, and now he was rifling through the Seven's wallet. "You're not keeping me from anything, nah. Little late at night for the press to be interested in anything I have to say, and the courthouse doesn't even open until eight."

He flipped a driver's license over, gave an amused smirk at the photo, and then looked at the dozing Seven. He shook his head.

"Fucking hell, Fernando," he muttered under his breath.

"Who's Fernando?" Dinah leaned forward over the edge of the roof she was on, and flipped over it to land on the fire escape below. Then proceeded to get into a better position to watch the back of the jewelry store.

Yup. Two someones definitely there.

"I may randomly disappear, it looks like someone's going to be naughty, and I need to get photos of that."

"Fernando's a new friend of mine. He's napping right now, I'm just making sure all his shit is gonna be together when he wakes up."

By pocketing that driver's license, and that cash that was in that wallet there. Crime fighting was expensive work, okay?

"You take off whenever you need to, there. I'm not gonna be the guy who keeps you from getting your suspect just because we're having a nice chat."

Fernando was starting to stir, and Nick had to make sure he stuck around to shake the fear of god into him anyway.

Ha, they were inside now. She at least had them for B&E, and if they timed this right, burglary.

Dinah hit the comms to notify Helena she needed back-up, and said, "The glamorous life of an L.A. talent agent. Heh." Hmmm. "Are you going to be back on the island any time soon? Maybe we can meet up for drinks."

THUD. Whoops. Okay, so that landing would only get an 8 from the Russian judge.

"Jesus Christ, don't break your neck or anything over there," Nick said, blinking at the sound in his ear. "You run into something?"

Said the guy who was going to run up the side of a brick wall when he was finished up here in a few minutes. Not really one to talk, that Nikolai.

"You know, I don't have any plans to be, but..." Nick thumbed through his shiny new wad of cash. "... I do have some spending money saved up. I could probably make an evening of it sometime soon. What kind of schedule are you keeping these days?"

"Pretty busy during the week, and Friday nights, but Sunday nights and Saturdays are pretty open for whatever." Dinah grinned. "That'd be cool. And yeah, stupid-- dumpster in my way. It's empty, so. I just hope those guys didn't hear that."

Another THUD, but this one lighter, and more contained. Helena always did land with finesse.

"...and that would be my partner making the same mistake as she gets here."

"You both didn't see the dumpster? Damn. Must be dark out there tonight," Nick whistled, and then pocketed the wad of money before setting to work lighting the road flare he'd pulled out. "I could probably get a ticket for one of those days, though. They're usually my busy days - everyone's a dumbass on the weekend, lots of damage control - but I think Hollywood will survive without me for one night."

And that would be the thump-thump-thump-hissss of the flare, there.

Really, they were both excellent at this, weren't they?

So, so excellent.

Nick, what are you doing? Did you wreck your bike? Are you trying to flag down highway patrol? Arrgh.

"Sounds like a plan," Dinah agreed. "Except not Valentine's, that'll probably some kind of nightmare on the Island..."

Ha, okay, time to move. "Gotta go now! Or we won't get the pix, even with our infrared camera." Yes, they had one. No, not with them. Shush.

Helena made hurry-up! motions to Dinah, and then kicked in the door.

"Like, now. Byeee!"

The sound of running feet might accompany that sign off.

It was excellent timing, really.

"Yeah, yeah, talk to you later," Nick chuckled into the phone, hanging up just as his new best buddy Fernando came to his senses enough to start cussing him out. Loudly and angrily. In Spanish. And Gorgon was all too happy to tuck his phone into his pocket, lay the flare down on the side of the road not far away from the gun, and then flash Fernando's license in his face. "See this? I know who you are now. I know your name. I know where you live..."

Business as usual in Hollywood on a Wednesday night.

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Hollywood, LA, Wednesday Night Fandom Time

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