Red Hook And Roundhouse

Participants:

finn_icon.gif kara_icon.gif liza_icon.gif lucille4_icon.gif

Scene Title Red Hook and Roundhouse
Synopsis No one actually roundhouse kicks anyone else in this one. But there are kicks. And punches.
Date March 3, 2019

Red Hook Tavern


The lighting is dim inside the Red Hook Tavern and with Sunday's being as they always have been, a day to restock for the coming week, a day of rest, meandering, being with family or a lover. All of these things and more. Today Lucille Ryans is indulging in rest and a drink or two in the cool afternoon that blows in whenever the door is opened. The woman otherwise known as White Rose if you knew who was under that mask in the fighting ring, sits at the bar leaning over while she scribbles something into her small red notebook. Faint bruises can be seen on her arms, more like underneath her black and gray clothing. Her asymmetrical blazer laid over her lap as she idly plays with her drink, tequila.

Hydra. Couldn't get a name of a researcher attached. May need to bring this to Avi. Not sure that's the best idea.

Ice clinking in her drink as she swallows back more and stares down at her latest thought written down on the page. She wasn't sure exactly how to pursue what she was thinking. How do you save a friend from something attached to their very soul? Lucille's musings have her momentarily distracted, so obviously lost in her own world her blue gray eyes glazing over.

There's a shopping list folded over neatly in the breast pocket of Kara Prince's jacket, one with a number of important items needing tracked down and brought back to Providence either this week or the next. Not officially on that list is alcohol, but she's pulled Finn aside into the Tavern nonetheless. She, if no one else, could use a good drink in an establishment that saw more than 10 patrons on any given day.

"The price of gas is out of control these days, Finn." Kara laments as she approaches the bar. "I think we should start bringing our own when we come out. Twelve-forty a gallon makes the drive almost not worth it." She was almost positive the station had overcharged them since they were from out of town, too, but she keeps that thought to herself.

"So long as the price of beer hasn't skyrocketed," says Finn, making his way for the bar. He scrubs a hand over his face. "There might be a couple of defunct gas stations with some fuel left underground we can siphon out that somehow haven't been tapped yet. I'll do another look-see in the bird one day soon, see if I can't pinpoint a couple likely spots," he says, taking up residence at one of the bar seats a couple down from Lucille's.

He doesn't look that way just yet, not noticing the 'White Rose' to his left, as his interest at the moment lies solely in the bartender and what sort of alcohol is on tap or in the bottles on the shelves. His green eyes slide along the labels there, as he waits for the bartender's attention. "To beer or to whiskey, that is the question. But I can abide bad beer better than I can abide bad whiskey," he tells Kara, drumming his fingers for a moment on the bar top as he considers what's available. As always in the Safe Zone, the supply doesn't always meet the demand.

Lucille doesn't immediately notice Finn though she feels the draft of wind on the back of her neck and hears a pair of new voices but they are just like the rest of the noise that the woman isn't paying attention too currently, whatever thoughts she had brewing she snaps out of it and raps on the bar surface once sharply, "Another please." She calls out to the bartender. Perhaps drink number three would offer more clarity. Leaning forward and picking the pen up she starts to scribble more.

Can a person survive one of the Conduits leaving? ..need to ask Berlin what she wants. Is it worth pursuing?

Placing the pen down with a sigh she flips the small notebook closed and slips it in her front pocket, allowing her head to rest in her hand after as her fingertips run through freshly trimmed auburn hair with blonde highlights. Lucille had wanted to be lighter. Feel that way at least, the hair was weighing her down. It's when her head comes up to nod her thanks at the bartender and her gaze slides over the bar that she notices the man she once had the pleasure of having an extreme emotional reaction in front of and then beat the shit out of not too much longer later in the Crucible.

The woman hunkers down slowly eyes widen a fraction, shifting her gaze back to the labels in front of her. Nothing to see here.

"Come on, where's your sense of adventure?" Kara asks in a tone passing for jovial, her brow arching as she settles in on Finn's opposite side, arms folding along the bar. She's been working on her 'looking on the bright side' attitude. "Maybe you'll get lucky, and it'll be neither." Or, even better: "Maybe it'll be me leaning out the window sick as a dog on the way back." She drums her fingertips along the bartop, less enthused now. "Who knows."

The uncomfortable reaction of the woman seated on Finn's other side is noted, but overlooked for now. With the way she'd been writing on that notepad, for all Kara knew, she could be a jumpy journalist. She looks back to the bartender when he comes their way, chin lifting. If she has any second-guesses about questioning the quality of the establishment's drink in hearing distance of the man pouring them, it doesn't show.

"Whiskey, please." she announces, glancing sidelong at Finn, with Lucille still visible in that periphery as well. "What'll it be? I know what I'm hoping for."

Speaking of sick as a dog… Finn seems to sense that subtle movement to his left and turns to look at Lucille's profile. His brows lift as he recognizes her and he flashes his easygoing smile her way, all bright white teeth and dimples in his frank, broad face.

"Just you today? One red rose instead of three?" Is it a pun on her fighting name? The other two roses would be Delia and Tania, of course, both redder than Lucille's auburn locks.

He turns back to the barkeep to make his order after Kara's, but he's a bit more discerning. "Whiskey, but none of that Canadian Mist crap," he says to the bartender, nodding to a particular bottle that they seem to get plenty of, here at the Market. "More like Canadian Piss," he tells Kara. "That Beam'll do," he says amiably enough. "Make it a double, neat."

Roses. Lucille takes a sip of her drink and flashes a bright smile towards Finn and then Kara, eyes twinkling. Shit. The mask on her face tugged on and she nods over to the man. "Sorry I can't remember if you gave your name last time," she extends her hand with a light flex of her fingers. Running through the scenarios, chummy, flirty (regardless of the blonde over his shoulder), abrupt coldness.. etc. In the span of those few seconds she thinks of all those approaches and goes with that boisterous tone of boys will be boys, chummy to a default. "You were too busy hurling your guts all over the ring."

Kara lets out a hum of appreciation as Finn takes the plunge with her on a real drink. Even if he's opinionated about it. "That's the spirit," she encourages him enthusiastically. Depending how many drinks they had, the truck on the ride back might do more than just feel like it was being driven by a drunk person. She's reaching for the glass that's been poured for her when she starts to key in on the banter between Finn and Lucille, head turning. Finger tapping along the side of the glass.

She'd ask who his friend was, but she has a pretty good idea thanks to Lucille's response. Kara looks over Lucille's cheerful expression, and meets it with one of her own. "I suppose that makes you the tart opposed to fair fights."

Drinks aren't always necessary for a good time, but sometimes they're just what the doctor ordered. Not literally, of course. Maybe outside the Safe Zone. Elizabeth Messer makes her way into the tavern with a generally chipper outlook. She makes her way over to the bar at a steady pace, taking a brief look around to observe the occupants. People are taken note of, either for personal benefit or security's sake. One can't be too careful.

Liza smiles warmly at the bartender, then taps her chin. "I wonder if they've got any orange juice somewhere in there… a mimosa sounds fabulous."

It's clear as soon as she mentions the ring that Finn had no idea that was her — if he had any inkling that night, it was lost along with, you know, his consciousness when he blacked out from the pain flaring through every nerve in his body. "Wait - what - that was you?" he says, looking both completely awed by the fact and, let's face it, a bit impressed. "Holy shit, you have some bad mojo, lady."

He looks skeptically at her hand, ignoring it to reach for his drink instead as the bartender slides it in front of him. "I can't remember what you did and how, so, uh, I'll just add you to the list of hot women I can't touch." There's a list, folks. It's growing. "Finn," he supplies, before giving Kara a brow lift at her diction.

"Tart? Are you a Victorian governess?"

So meta.

He glances at Liza as she makes her way to the bar, shaking his head slightly — Kara no doubt can read the expression on his face — something to do with Safe Zone people. Which they are not.

He turns back to Lucille. "So you got a real name, White Rose?"

There have been many a insult that Lucille has been called over the course of her life and tart she hasn't had the pleasure of hearing too often, even in England. That cheerful smile morphs and the woman flashes bright, white teeth. Wolfish. "I seemed to have offended your wife." Tapping her fingers on the edge of glass she keeps her gaze locked on Kara's, eyebrows pitch upwards a tick. Bad mojo elicits a light shrug, "Who's to say it's all used for bad?" Comfortable with balancing the line of light and dark, right down the middle.

"You aren't that lucky of a man it seems then." Hot woman? He must not be married to this woman. Excellent. Her eyes haven't left Kara's this entire time addressing Finn. To give her name or not, it's whatever. "Lucille." Taking her hand back and placing it on the surface of the bar, "And do I call you something other than Overbearing Wife with the Hot Husband?"

At Finn's side-eye, Kara tilts her hand to the side, features lifting innocently. "I was just trying to be polite." she insists, drinking her short glass in one go. Her eyes don't leave Lucille at this point, minding her in a far less friendly way than Finn currently is. She laughs quietly over the top of the emptied glass before setting it back down on the bar, at the thought of being anyone's wife.

"What a sense of humor this one's got." she remarks quietly to Finn, looking at him for a moment with a shake of her head before returning her attention to Lucille. Ms. Mimosa does not get so much as a glance yet, though her presence is noted. "Since we're all civilized here," she smiles pleasantly. "you can call me Kara."

She leans into the bar as she looks around her companion to the woman who had beaten him literally senseless only a few months prior, her eyes cold as she smiles. "What kind of classy thing did you spend your winnings on, if I might ask?"

It appears that there's a slightly heated argument going on behind her. Oh dear. Liza peers over her shoulder briefly to see what is going on when the bartender returns with some orange juice (from concentrate, of course) and no champagne. She sighs. "Okay, I'm sure you have vodka… a screwdriver it is. But make it a big one!"

With her drink order in, the peppy blonde can now pay attention to the barbs hurled back and forth between the trio. Oooooh, it's only a matter of time before this gets messy. She can tell. So she turns around, facing away from the bar and instead watches the trio. And she waits. It's only a matter of time before something happens.

Finn's eyes slide from side to side like he's watching a tennis match, and he throws down the rest of his whiskey — in case it gets knocked over or they get thrown out before he can finish it. "Whoa now," he says. "She didn't cheat. It was fair — I just don't know how you're supposed to fight back against that unless you have, I don't know, laser eyeballs or something." This is offered to Kara, though he looks a bit amused — surprised, maybe — to see her hackles up and defending his honor(?).

He turns back to Lucille, and it looks like he might have something to say to her about her treatment of his friend, but instead he just smiles. "You think I'm hot?"

"Charmed, Kara." Her hand deftly goes to pick up her glass and swallow more tequila before licking her lips. Finn. She liked the name and Lucille who hadn't really allowed herself to entertain the physical with any man or woman for that matter for over seven years feels a thump in her chest. Leaning forward as if to talk more to Finn though she still looks at the blonde on the other side of him. "Let's go to dinner and you can find out." It looks like she's talking to Kara but the words are for Finn and her smile widens with a hand curling around her drink.

"It's in my savings so nothing to show for it but," commenting absently at Kara's prodding about her winnings, the other woman doesn't look homeless but she could be angling for Lucille's purse so to speak. "I can show you a fair fight if that's what you're looking for."

Whatever Kara might have thought about Lucille previously, she finds the thought of her trying to fish for Finn's affections to be a crossed line. The emptied glass is spun on the counter, fingertips starting and stopping the wobble of it. She looks away with a reserved smile. "Oh, I doubt it," Kara muses in regard to the concept of a fair fight.

She sits upright on her chair anyway. Feet to the floor.

Oh. Oh my. Liza is so absorbed in the pure River Styx drama of the situation that she almost knocks over her newly acquired drink as she doesn't bother looking at it as she grabs for it. "Wow, and I thought orange juice was going to be the highlight of my day."

She peers at the trio, not moving. She's just Steve Irwin and they're all much more interesting crocodiles.

The animosity brewing between the two ladies he's sitting between, Finn looks a bit more nervous as they seem to be facing off, ready to fight. "Ladies," he says, spreading his hands toward each. "Can't we all just get along?"

He gives Kara another look, like why are you being so weird? before he glances back at Lucille. "If you're planning on fighting, maybe the middle of the market isn't the place. And if you're going to fight, we need to agree on terms. And if you're going to fight," he looks at Kara again, "can I have you both sign a written contract saying it was over me?"

He seemed like he really was working in their best interest for a moment there. "The guys'll never believe me otherwise," he says, shaking his head. "I may have a tendency to exaggerate sometimes," he stage whispers to Lucille.

"Don't be such a spoilsport. I thought you were fun. You might need to snap a photo." Lucille rises from her chair and lays her coat on the seat and she walks slowly on long legs to the other side of Kara, her eyes briefly flint to Finn and she smiles at him, "One moment."

Her whole demeanor changes, posture straightening then lazy like a cat and Lucille's frosty stare ahead while keeping Kara just on the outside of her vision. "There are ten seconds," placing a hand on the bar gently and slowly tapping one finger at a time. "You have that long before it gets unfair." The warning clear and simple, Kara's move.

When Finn's voice drops and the selfish nature of his request is revealed, Kara's eyes close after rolling immediately up into her head. "Shut up, Shepherd." she mutters, feet still flat on the ground. When her eyes open, she looks down at the dregs of her drink thoughtfully as Lucille approaches her side, fingers still on the edge of the glass.

Kara faintly smiles at the warning, fingertips firming around the crystal.

She sweeps to her feet, elbow swinging wide and hard for Lucille's gut during that action. The glass in her hand swings after her as she turns, brought down toward the semi-blonde's beautifully highlighted locks. She shrugs her off-arm hard to try and create distance if there isn't already some, her expression deadpan as she waits for retaliation.

"One mississippi."

This, right now, was just a barfight. As long as the bartender wasn't upset at it, Liza could probably just look the other way. Although she wouldn't look the other way because this was amusing. She was more worried about the idea of something more than a bar fight going on and there were hints of that. Liza turns, leaning over the bar and reaching over it to grab a straw before she sticks it in her glass and sips from it.

"Who knew counting could be so fun."

“Oh, shit,” says Finn, when Kara’s up on her feet and swinging. He’s up on his feet, too, but not about to stop Kara from doing whatever Kara’s heart tells her to do.

“Might wanna give them room to play,” he tells Liza, tipping his head as he backs up and away from the about-to-be brawl. But he doesn’t pull her to safety — he knows enough badass women to assume she needs any help.

As he backs up, he pulls from his bomber jacket a cell phone — he has to turn it on because most of the time there’s no point. But even if there’s no signal, he can record this for prosperity (and ego inflation) purposes.

Oiiii you fucking bitch. Lucille hisses and winces as Kara's shove connects right after the glass is smashed on her head and she is pushed into the bar. The auburn haired woman feels the cuts and blood on her scalp, her new haircut. Gripping the end of the bar as her vision swims the woman rolls with the momentum of Kara's shove and is up and rolling on the actual bar sending glasses and drinks flying.

Fingertips hook and she pivots, spinning and coming to a rest on her knees with hands planted and breath heavy for a moment. The hint of a smile curls on one side of her lips as she pushes herself up to a crouching position, a trickle of blood falls down the center of her forehead and drips off the end of her nose. This isn't the Crucible so she doesn't have to lick it for show but she almost does it to unnerve Kara. Her eyes remain their natural blue and Lucille keeps to her word. Ten counts. There's a moment of stillness for the Wolfhound and there's a twitch of her finger before she rears back and pushes off the bar from the balls of her feet limbs stretching forward as she leaps to tackle Kara to the floor.

And probably through a table.

"Two mississippi," Kara calls out, watching Lucille raise up on the bar. There's a notable lapse in continuing to count while she waits for additional movement, like it doesn't count unless they're actually scrapping. She slides a step back from the bar, minding to not trip up over a stool while she goes.

Then Lucille jumps. "Three—"

She grabs onto the woman's shoulders as they connect, turning to the side, but crash goes the table they both land on top of. With a grunt of breath, she scrabbles up onto a knee. One hand wrapped around Lucille's shirt, the other falls toward her face with a pop of her elbow. "— mississippi." she remembers to count out, winded. She breathes, the sound coming out like a growl.

“Oooh, good point,” Liza says in response to Finn, carefully stepping out of the way to about the same distance away as Finn himself stands. Her eyes watch the fighting pair carefully, then her gaze shifts over to Finn… and the cell phone he’s holding. She offers him a cheerful smile, then points at the phone.

“Want me to hold that so you can get in the shot? I don’t mean you have to fight or anything, I just figure you’d want this for your friends.”

“Shiiiit,” Finn says, managing to turn on the camera and press record. Liza’s comment makes him look a bit confused in her direction before he laughs. “Sorry, half pint. That’d be a cute con, but I’m not as dumb as I look,” he says, grinning in that labrador way of his.

He manages to get the two fighting women in his shot, holding the phone expertly horizontal to get more of the action in the frame. “Ouch, that’s going to leave a mark,” he comments drolly, watching the bartender for signs of trouble. Like maybe a shotgun getting pulled from under the bar.

“Why mississippi… whoever started that? Why not alligator? Chihuahua? Apocalypse?” he wonders aloud. Who says Finn Shepherd’s not philosophical at heart?

All around the tavern people jeer and cheer the ladies on, the bartender looking exasperated and yelling, "Hey Hey watch my tables!" Lucille nods her head in agreement as Kara's hand goes to push at her face while grabbing her shirt. There's a minute shake of the taller woman's head. No no. Pressing her legs on either side of the woman's thigh on the outside in an effort to pin Kara beneath her.

Lucille leans in close instead of back, looking into Kara's eyes with a set intensity before her hand reaches forward and yanks Kara's hair to slam the back of her head down on the floor. Twice if she can.

Four happens somewhere in there, but who's counting? Kara's a little busy for it. Lucille's fast, and apparently aiming to settle this before the count reaches ten.

Flipped over onto her back, she's distracted by the stare being given to her. Just who the hell is this woman? Her hands come up to grasp Lucille's forearms as her head is grabbed, in attempt to keep her from throwing her down with all her force. Regardless of whether or not that works, Kara's blinded temporarily by a white, searing light coming from behind her eyes.

She rocks her hips, legs swinging back, and kicks Lucille as hard as she can in the gut to send her away. Kara quickly pushes herself to her feet, hand finding the back of the chair that had been next to the table to help her keep her balance while she comes up. Then, she grabs it with her other hand.

"Four." she counts out loud now, swinging the chair around at Lucille like it's a baseball bat. Or a golf club. You know. Fore.

A flat look is given in Finn’s direction as Liza opens the zipper of her purse. “Funny, I was legitimately going to take your picture.” She turns her gaze away from him and back towards the fighting, wincing at the brutality of it. “Actually, people do say alligator and a score of other ones. It’s mostly just so that the word is spaced out properly to count a second. People are actually pretty bad at counting seconds. But the words are more of a colloquialism more than anything.”

She doesn’t look at Finn as she continues. “I have to say, though, calling someone you don’t know a name like half-pint is a pretty dumb move. But I’ll give you a chance to prove you aren’t ‘as dumb as you look’. Which, actually, I didn’t think you looked dumb at all but I suppose it all remains to be seen.” She straightens the front of her coat. “I’m going to count to ten. If you can break up this fight before I get to the end of it, I won’t pull out a badge and you and your friends can go on your merry way. If you don’t, well…”

Liza looks Finn dead in the eyes. “One.”

“Jesus, you must be a blast at parties. It’s Le-vi-O-sa, not Le-vi-o-SA,” Finn says, nearly perfectly mimicking the high-pitched voice of a young Emma Watson. He takes a hearty swallow of his whiskey, clearly not in a hurry to go anywhere. The empty glass is slid onto a nearby table.

“I’m not doing anything wrong. They’re big girls and can make their own poor life choices. I’m not about to assume it’s my place to break them up. This might be their version of smashing the patriarchy,” he says, as, well, chairs are smashed instead. Finn’s green eyes sweep over Liza. “NYPD isn’t back on scene yet, and you’re not an MP. What’s that leave, SESA? No one’s using their powers here. Not sure this is your jurisdiction, is it?”

He looks over at the two women brawling. “I don’t have the money to bail you out, ladies, so be sure to wrap it up by ten.” He smiles sweetly at Liza. “That’ll give us a few seconds to spare.”

A loud, "Oof!" is forced out of Lucille as Kara's foot finds her gut sending her reeling back there's barely a moment to gather herself before Kara is swinging a chair at her and Lucille does her best golf ball impression the force sending her flying into another table that isn't currently occupied.

A chair falls over on another patron who hops up and straight up punches another dude behind him. Yelling ensued but nobody's yelled Bar Brawl yet so it must not be official. Just as always, witnessing aggression and alcohol only makes people more into it. "Take yer shirt of-" A heavily inebriated man seems to be yelling at the women fighting before a large woman slams his face into the table with a grunt.

Back over at Lucille who is laying on the ground with her back to the blonde, her body twitches and as she does a wave of agony washes over Kara, "I thought," the woman's hand slams on the overturned table to pull herself up turning slowly to stare at Kara with eyes that glow the color of molten amber, she wipes a bit of blood from the corner of her lips, "We were playing fair?" Stalking forward Lu lifts her leg to slam her foot into Kara's chest.

The crawling pain starts in Kara's wrist, fingers arching and the gripped chair clattering to the ground. She sucks in a breath, wondering what's gone wrong when it spreads up her arm and into her chest. Though she's not been hit by anything physically, it's clear she's suffering just as much after the hit, probably moreso than Lucille is. "You never planned to," Kara reminds her with a grimace of a grin, meaning to step aside.

Thanks to the pain, she doesn't get that far, taking a shoe to the sternum. Her hands come to grasp the leg it belongs to when it connects, stumbling but staying upright. She leans hard while still holding onto Lucille's leg, trying to swing her back into the bar with a pained groan rather than anything that sounds remotely fierce.

Stumbling, Kara shoots a sharp look back in Finn's direction at his suggestion to wrap things up. Really? she asks with a twitch of her brow. She's not fond of his unhelpful approach, and now, she's seen the phone in his hand.

Liza reaches over for a final sip of her drink before she sets it on the counter. "You're acting like a child, making fun of people you don't know to make up for your own inadequacies. You said you're not as dumb as you look… then maybe you would have seen I was giving you the chance to get out with your friend before shit hit the fan because that's the kind of person I am."

She pauses. "And that," she gestures over towards Lucille and her glowing eyes, "is now my jurisdiction."

Her attention now turns fully towards the two ladies. "SESA," she announces, badge pulled from her purse to raise in the air for a moment or two before it is returned to its rightful place out of the way. "Alright, barfight's over," she states firmly, approaching Lucille. Given that Kara's not shown any sort of ability, she's not the primary target here. The SESA badge pulled from her purse, she holds it up, just so everyone knows. She does squint her eyes at Lucille for a moment as she…

"This isn't the kind of fighting your dad would be proud of."

“Thanks for the psych profile, Dr. Halfpint,” Finn says amiably, lifting his hands as he sees the badge come out. “I told them to wrap it up. Not my fault they don’t listen to good sense, is it? I’m not about to impose my sense of decorum and propriety on them.”

As if those two words apply to either of the brawling ladies at the moment.

“Please don’t make her throw up,” he calls over to Lucille. “I have a long trip back with her and a shortage of Altoids!”

Finn glances at the man yelling for them to disrobe, but sees he’s well taken care of by the Dot Jones wannabe, and begins to move toward Kara, to collect his travel partner. He lifts his hands up in surrender to Lucille, hoping she won’t turn her golden-eyed gaze on him. “I donno who your daddy is, but tell him he does good work,” he says with a broad smile, even as he grabs Kara’s arm to tug her toward the exit.

“Let’s go, wifey. Gov lady doesn’t like us,” he says, giving Liza a wave.

Lucille doesn't argue anymore with Kara as she's shoved back towards the bar, the agony sensation cuts off as Lu throws the strands of her ability away from the blonde's life signature.

Instead she throws a fist at Kara's jaw as Liza walks up and starts talking about her father. The tall woman doesn't pale, grow sheepish; if anything her gaze grows harder. SESA. They didn't need any other problems, Wolfhound that is. "Just a friendly sparring." She comments with a wall over her emotions. As Finn drags Kara back Lucille herself steps to her stool and takes her asymmetrical blazer, laying out more than enough money to cover her tab and Finn and Kara's. "That was fun Kara." Cracking her neck from side to side as her chest rises with her rapid heartbeat, draping her blazer over her arm her eyes don't fade to their natural blue as she focuses on eliminating the pain that she feels from the scuffle.

Pulling out a pair of sunglasses from her blazer inner pocket, she slips them on her nose with a look towards Liza. "Tell Robyn I said hey," making her way towards the exit as well she comes near the duo from Providence but doesn't look their way her steps measured and even paced. She's in no hurry, "Nice meeting you, Kara. Finn."

"You know where to find me."

Kara is grimacing, dealing with the flare of pain that's only getting worse, when the sheer intensity of it abates. She flexes her hand, relieved that the cramp tensing her whole arm is starting to loosen its hold. The punch Lucille throws is seen, and she attempts to evade it by jerking her head to the side, but still catches the other woman's fist on her chin. Eyes narrowing, she steps forward to throw a punch of her own despite the agony that hasn't quite ebbed yet.

Finn's got a hold of her, though, calling her wifey.

Her head jerks to cast a glance at Liza, considering if she really values the input of a SESA agent. The short answer is, she doesn't, but getting arrested is definitely not an item on the still-incomplete shopping list they have. "Don't much like them either." Kara grunts in agreement, turning for the door and shoving down the painful discomfort she can still feel to walk tall on her way out. You know, proudly.

She turns her head slightly toward Finn as he pushes the door open so they can leave. "I trust you're going to do the right thing and delete that, Shepherd…"

Being called names is pretty low on Liza’s list of things she enjoys. In fact, she doesn’t enjoy it at all! Surprise surprise. But Finn’s continued chatter just cements in her mind that he’s not worth the bother. So he’s ignored. First she looks at Lucille and catches what she says about Robyn. She nods slowly.

“I’ll let her know.” She says simply before her gaze goes between the two. “Just don’t let me catch the two of you doing this again here. There are safer places for a ‘friendly spar’.” The petite blonde certainly isn’t convinced it’s a friendly spar at all, but it’s better to keep things from being in public where innocent people could get hurt. She folds her arms across her chest and waits to see if they leave.

The phone is stowed away and Lucille’s implied invitation draws a grin from Finn as he holds the door for Kara. “Next week, then. Staten?” he asks, brows lifting as he looks back at Lucille. “Audience only this time.”

He’s still got a bad taste in his mouth from the last time in the ring, thanks to “White Rose.”

To Kara, he shrugs amiably. “We’ll see what it’s worth to you.” Leverage is always a commodity he can use more of. “Let’s divide and conquer on the shopping list. And maybe stop at a bookstore to get a copy of ‘How to Make Friends and Influence People.’ You could use a refresher,” he tells her, as the door swings closed behind them.


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