Epiphany
Proverbs 17:9
@Hell-Jumper
The Amazon looked surprised at the secret door. Again, she makes a point of studying the button and anything around it, plainly trying to learn this world and its technologies. Then she followed the Question into the safehouse. Question found plenty of clothes for incognito work, including a decent selection for tall women like Scyleia. She accepted the hoodies, sweatpants and shoes with an obvious grimace. "Don't take this the wrong way," she said, wrinkling her nose slightly. "It's not like I enjoy dressing for the male gaze. But I hope to Hera no one I know sees me wearing this."
She returned a few minutes later. Remarkably, she had already done a little something about that 'glow'; Scyleia was wearing makeup. It wasn't especially polished, perhaps deliberately. But now she looked like a woman wearing makeup, rather than a woman made in the image of the Goddesses.
"Let's go find this Alvarez of yours. If this man Drake Swift spent much time in Bludhaven, surely someone will have met the man. Particularly if he's...friendly with the opposite sex. Men like that tend to get around in several ways." Scyleia's eyes watched the Question carefully, still scrutinizing him to see how easily he moved, if he was physically up for continuing the assignment without rest.
The Question's datapad (and his own formidable memory and experience) told him Alvarez was likely catching dinner at the Smiths Diner over on Railway just north of Halyard Street. He was known to shoot the breeze with a few friends and 'associates' there, treating his booth like his own personal office when it came to selling leads, information or setting up deals for merchandise. Odds are, that's where he'll be.
@sitanomoto
It's heading into evening time for Bludhaven. In a healthy city, the streets would be packed with traffic filled with commuters and business people leaving work to head to their suburban homes or high-story rises. And there were some of those cars on the road. More people walked, though, and the precious handful of city buses in service seemed chronically full and chronically late. Not a lot of suits and ties, or dresses for that matter in sight. Bludhaven had tried to restart its economy some years ago but it hadn't taken. Instead, the average person the street looked like someone crawling home from a long day of poorly-paid service sector work or unappreciated, labor-intensive manufacturing.
The Golden Cobra stood out. It didn't fit the city aesthetic. The exterior was new(ish), shiny with faux-gold panels and an attractive spread of lights already drawing the eye as the sun headed home in the sky. This time of day was staging time. People would be finishing their commute, their dinners and their obligations now and in the next hour. Soon, the Golden Cobra would be packed to the rafters with people looking for a good time. Which meant the people intending on selling that crowd a good time were mostly inside, probably finishing a meal themselves and getting ready to solicit, attract and exploit fresh meat as they arrived.
It was the perfect time to find some people who deserved a pounding.
@ShadowBroker
It's the end of a workday. While Huge's schedule likely varies depending on who's hired him to do what and when, today wasn't bad. The wiring in a whole wall had gone bad at 17 Phraim Moore Housing Projects and, the projects being the projects, no one responsible could give a damn. A friend of someone you'd done work for in the past had connected the dozen families affected to the big man who was good with his hands. It'd taken...well, pretty much the whole work day and it wouldn't hurt to doublecheck the work tomorrow. But tonight, 42 people would have power that wouldn't have it otherwise. These people didn't have much, but between them Huge had come away with a nice pocketful. Enough for a nice meal, some entertainment, or maybe treating some kids looking up to him.
As he walked down Railway, just north of Halyard Street, he spotted some familiar jackets. Devil Tigers, four of them, heading into Smiths Diner. Could be innocent. ...Probably wasn't, given his brushes with this gang in the past.
The Amazon looked surprised at the secret door. Again, she makes a point of studying the button and anything around it, plainly trying to learn this world and its technologies. Then she followed the Question into the safehouse. Question found plenty of clothes for incognito work, including a decent selection for tall women like Scyleia. She accepted the hoodies, sweatpants and shoes with an obvious grimace. "Don't take this the wrong way," she said, wrinkling her nose slightly. "It's not like I enjoy dressing for the male gaze. But I hope to Hera no one I know sees me wearing this."
She returned a few minutes later. Remarkably, she had already done a little something about that 'glow'; Scyleia was wearing makeup. It wasn't especially polished, perhaps deliberately. But now she looked like a woman wearing makeup, rather than a woman made in the image of the Goddesses.
"Let's go find this Alvarez of yours. If this man Drake Swift spent much time in Bludhaven, surely someone will have met the man. Particularly if he's...friendly with the opposite sex. Men like that tend to get around in several ways." Scyleia's eyes watched the Question carefully, still scrutinizing him to see how easily he moved, if he was physically up for continuing the assignment without rest.
The Question's datapad (and his own formidable memory and experience) told him Alvarez was likely catching dinner at the Smiths Diner over on Railway just north of Halyard Street. He was known to shoot the breeze with a few friends and 'associates' there, treating his booth like his own personal office when it came to selling leads, information or setting up deals for merchandise. Odds are, that's where he'll be.
@sitanomoto
It's heading into evening time for Bludhaven. In a healthy city, the streets would be packed with traffic filled with commuters and business people leaving work to head to their suburban homes or high-story rises. And there were some of those cars on the road. More people walked, though, and the precious handful of city buses in service seemed chronically full and chronically late. Not a lot of suits and ties, or dresses for that matter in sight. Bludhaven had tried to restart its economy some years ago but it hadn't taken. Instead, the average person the street looked like someone crawling home from a long day of poorly-paid service sector work or unappreciated, labor-intensive manufacturing.
The Golden Cobra stood out. It didn't fit the city aesthetic. The exterior was new(ish), shiny with faux-gold panels and an attractive spread of lights already drawing the eye as the sun headed home in the sky. This time of day was staging time. People would be finishing their commute, their dinners and their obligations now and in the next hour. Soon, the Golden Cobra would be packed to the rafters with people looking for a good time. Which meant the people intending on selling that crowd a good time were mostly inside, probably finishing a meal themselves and getting ready to solicit, attract and exploit fresh meat as they arrived.
It was the perfect time to find some people who deserved a pounding.
@ShadowBroker
It's the end of a workday. While Huge's schedule likely varies depending on who's hired him to do what and when, today wasn't bad. The wiring in a whole wall had gone bad at 17 Phraim Moore Housing Projects and, the projects being the projects, no one responsible could give a damn. A friend of someone you'd done work for in the past had connected the dozen families affected to the big man who was good with his hands. It'd taken...well, pretty much the whole work day and it wouldn't hurt to doublecheck the work tomorrow. But tonight, 42 people would have power that wouldn't have it otherwise. These people didn't have much, but between them Huge had come away with a nice pocketful. Enough for a nice meal, some entertainment, or maybe treating some kids looking up to him.
As he walked down Railway, just north of Halyard Street, he spotted some familiar jackets. Devil Tigers, four of them, heading into Smiths Diner. Could be innocent. ...Probably wasn't, given his brushes with this gang in the past.
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