Deleted Member
Deleted
Registered On: May 5, 2024 3:37:28 GMT -5 ~
Posts: 0
|
|
Post by Deleted on Apr 22, 2014 23:44:25 GMT -5
Harvey growls at Selina under his breath with little hostility and all the dirty boy in him before he looks back to Leo. He rolls his eyes.
"No, polyester was a little before my day, smart ass."
Harvey huffed and picked up his beer, taking a long swig before directing his attention to Renee after she was back.
"What's got you all mussed, Monty?"
|
|
Deleted Member
Deleted
Registered On: May 5, 2024 3:37:28 GMT -5 ~
Posts: 0
|
|
Post by Deleted on May 3, 2014 19:03:34 GMT -5
She's sipping on her drink, winking back at Bullock as he draws closer to her, growling. He certainly is something after a rough day, and drinking. Most of their little group is steadily tossing back shots and indulging, well, save for Bivins. He's a bit gone in his liquor, but he's still a babe. New to the force, almost, and new to how fast and hard they all drink.
He'll get there.
As they all banter back and forth, her eyes shift to Renee. The days' case must have been a rough one, considering she hasn't heard much about it, and hasn't heard much from any of them, other than the bits and pieces from Bivins. And then again, he spouts bits and pieces of most things, so it could be he's reciting from Reddit, or talking the case, and she can't tell the difference. But his mood from when he started crooning at the juke-box was somber, and it's gotten little better since. AT least they're talking a humorous subject. And then Renee. The woman is clearly debating and deliberating something, and if she bet her hand on it, it would probably be the case du jour as well.
There are some days she's glad she doesn't work the force, and is only a consultant. This is one of 'em.
|
|
Deleted Member
Deleted
Registered On: May 5, 2024 3:37:28 GMT -5 ~
Posts: 0
|
|
Post by Deleted on May 14, 2014 14:20:24 GMT -5
"For some reason, Boss, I can totally see you in like, polyester diapers. . . with one of those plaid bibs or something, ugh, my head." He blinks and closes his eyes, feeling a little nauseous. He was a lovely greenish color. It'd be hard to say he couldn't hold his liquor, but compared to most of the folks at the MCU, he couldn't.
He looked at Selina again, just thinking about her face. She always seemed so sad, it was strange. She played a lot, but she seemed so sad. . . He just thought about that for a second. Somber, too somber, no, the boss kept up a good face. That's how he worked. . . no matter how bad it got, and what he saw. . . good face forward. He smirked a bit and then said "Eh, we had a tough day, bad case. Not really MCU material, but . . . you know sometimes the freaks ain't the only freaks."
He rubs the bridge of his nose and sits up. "What's in these things? Can I have another one? I am a man today, this is my Bar Mitzvah. . . that pun would be better if it weren't the same word . . . I was implying a rite of passage involving a bar, but instead it just sounds like I'm Jewish. Which I might be, I am not entirely certain of my background, although I think we're Welsh."
He rested his head on the table and closed his eyes "Tell me a story!" he asked, sort of distantly.
|
|
Deleted Member
Deleted
Registered On: May 5, 2024 3:37:28 GMT -5 ~
Posts: 0
|
|
Post by Deleted on May 26, 2014 3:36:38 GMT -5
Renée waves off the concern. Feeling selfish and guilty, she shifts her posture, forces down her shoulders and her drink in that order, and shoves herself back into the conversation.
"You know, the stereotype is irish cops, but my first partner after Bullock hit Louie, before I made detective, was Welsh. Jerniggan. He actually spoke the language. I mean... I think? What I'm getting at is that he could have been speaking some Hebrew in there. Nobody woulda noticed." She knocks back another shot. "He was always talkin' to me about how there was this huge Welsh-speaking population on the north end of Crime Alley, but that the higher-ups were too dumb to assign him to that beat, where he could do real good. I think he kind of resented me 'cus they kept stickin' us in Neville." She shrugs as she puts the shot glass back down. "That and because I noticed him starin' at my caboose all the time. Called me a prude when I shouted at him about it. And asked why I never wore thongs on duty."
With that, she shoots a meaningful glance at Selina, who almost certainly knows EXACTLY the kind of thing she's talking about. "Men," she says meaningfully, expecting to get a rise out of Bullock and Bivins.
|
|
Deleted Member
Deleted
Registered On: May 5, 2024 3:37:28 GMT -5 ~
Posts: 0
|
|
Post by Deleted on Jun 19, 2014 20:25:30 GMT -5
Harvey, whether Renee liked it or not, was extremely familiar with her caboose. He would throw his shade at here here and ther, it was part of being partners. He loved cutting up with her. Just because she played for the other team didn't mean he wasn't familiar with her shape. You work with someone long enough to get to know them pretty well.
Harvey scoffed at her saying "Men." He huffed and furrowed his brow at her.
"Women."
Harvey gave Selina and Renee a smirk and elbowed Bivins, signalling him to buck up to back him up. Though, at this point, Harvey was likely on his own. Bivins was far gone down the well of booze.
|
|
Deleted Member
Deleted
Registered On: May 5, 2024 3:37:28 GMT -5 ~
Posts: 0
|
|
Post by Deleted on Jul 6, 2014 3:06:26 GMT -5
Rolling her eyes at the men, and trying, failing at holding back a snicker of laughter, she tosses back another shot of Whiskey. There are enough filled and emptied glasses on the table she almost reached for an empty. Maybe there is merit in turning them upside down when you've downed an ounce.
"I'm thankful I get paid for men to stare at my ass. I mean, did you hear that for this Metropham thing there is going to be an auction? Not quite like a meat auction, because it's people, but did you hear the proceeds were going to Gordon's men?" She tips back another shot and her green eyes go wide. Shit.
"Or not. Or I could be making all of this up and I'm just lucid dreaming, because I met with Lex and we were going over the whole damned thing. But yeah...." She shrugs, leaning back into her chair with her taller drink. A quick glance at the flushed faces, and then the glasses before them show another round or four will be needed again. And hopefully what she's spilled doesn't go further from this table. It's not like she's a spy, or anything, but considering she's not full PD does have it's advantages.
"Thongs are not appropriate in polyester, or for on the job. I would know." She states quite matter of factly. Thongs don't hold their own in leather, either. She meets Bullock and shoots him a glance that tells him to keep this to himself. Bivins probably won't remember in the morning, but then again, the kid has come up with some interesting ideas. Renee she can trust.
|
|
Deleted Member
Deleted
Registered On: May 5, 2024 3:37:28 GMT -5 ~
Posts: 0
|
|
Post by Deleted on Jul 21, 2014 18:16:35 GMT -5
He's drifting, eyes closed, face on the table as he looks at the empty glass for a moment. "Mmm, I knew that LexCorp was involved in the slave trade. It's only until they get a handle on human cloning. . . " He looks up at Selina for a moment, then covers his eye with one hand and then says "I knew it!"
He points to her, slurring his words "You're a superthingie. You dress up in tight clothes and jump on roofs. It's why your ass is so perfect." He smiles as he says "The polyester diaper is why they wear it on the outside. Superman has superhuman bladder control, but the spandex rides up, so he has to wear panties on the outside otherwise it doesn't work."
He slams his hand on the table, and then stares at the empty glass, stretching his tongue out to try to make it magically get more booze and then to magically get that booze into him. Wait, not Magic! the other one! SCIENCE! Yes.
"What were we talking about again?"
|
|
Deleted Member
Deleted
Registered On: May 5, 2024 3:37:28 GMT -5 ~
Posts: 0
|
|
Post by Deleted on Jul 31, 2014 21:19:33 GMT -5
"We weren't," Renée snaps out quickly. Then, her voice softens, and she adds, "Nobody was talking. You've been talking to yourself all evening. And I sure wouldn't put up with you sayin' all that stuff about my mama."
She signals the barman, but while the place is mostly empty, they're not the only people in the bar tonight. No immediate service. The GCPD side of the establishment has to put up with a boozeless spell.
And boozeless is no way to have to handle this kind of discussion.
Renée twists in her stool and leans against the bar. "Just what I'd expect from a rich white man. Whole universe of charity ideas, and his first thought... 'Hey! Let's get some women up on a stage in skimpy clothes and all pretend they're putas.'" She snorts a little and looks aside. "Thought of selling some of his own stuff never occurred to him, right? Privilege. Better to take stuff you don't own, people who you could never own, and make them earn your charity money- and never ask questions about how, naturally."
Renée eyes her empty glass, then turns her back to the bar and leans against it, propping herself up with her elbows. "Man wouldn't last a minute if it were his chrome-dome up on the auction block... Who's he even gonna get to do it? That skinny bodyguard of his?"
|
|