Killer Girls' Night Out [Talia]

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The setting sun painted the world in dazzling reds, pinks, and purples, peeking out from behind tall buildings that long shadows made dark. All this refracted through the glass in sharp rays of twilight. Most had already left the Botanical Gardens by now, but one employee remained. Garbed in simple, baggy clothing and specked with dirt, Briar Byrnes knelt amid the plants, making her last rounds before she left for the day.

Some of her red hair, slightly unkempt from the day’s exertions, dangled in front of her face, causing her to occasionally try to blow it back into place as her gloved hands worked with the earth. After a few minutes, she let out a sigh and rose to her full height, stretching her somewhat stiff limbs. Picking off her gardening gloves and tossing them into a bin full of similar such gloves.

Reaching back behind her head, she loosed the tie that held her hair up, her red hair falling lightly down around her face. “So,” Briar said, “Are you just going to stand around lurking in the shadows all evening?” She turned, smirking faintly at the Daughter of the Demon who lingered just on the edge of vision. Talia al Ghul.

Clearly, she had wanted to be noticed. If she hadn’t, it was unlikely that Briar would have been able to spot her at all. Talia was an interesting figure in her life. Ra’s, the Master, had been something of a father figure to her. Which made Talia…like a sister in many respects. And surely, they had trained together on more than one occasion.

Briar smiled as her gaze wandered to the various flora bursting with life in the gardens. “I do love it here. There’s nothing quite like being among the leaves.”

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The exotic figure so carefully 'spotted,' shifted quietly from where she had been standing, admiring a particular bloom in it's prime. "You make such assumptions, child. Perhaps your sight needs to be honed, if you are only greeting me now, and not in the hours prior when I have been present as well."

The gardens were lush, bountiful, and beautiful. But not her beloved home; one made of sand and sun, where you either thrived, or perished with no faltering between the two extremes. And it seemed this girl who her father had taken under his care seemed to prefer the lush atmosphere of such vivid greenery.

"We all have choices in where we align our dedications. Some, among finery such as this, others, in a higher calling." Closing the distance between the two, Talia reached out a hand to press back a wayward lock of hair from the girl's face. "You are filthy. You are not planning to start our night out in this?" Came an even toned query. For the evening she had taken her time to chose her own attire with care. Something that would fit with Gotham's clientele better than her standard trappings. Heels, denim, silk. Silver here and there, flashing at her wrists and ears.

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Briar almost immediately cringed at Talia’s comment on her powers of observation, instantly cowed and humbled. “Apologies, my lady,” she said, bowing her head slightly. She had momentarily forgotten herself in the presence of an al Ghul. Reaching around to her back, she undid her apron and hung it on one of the hooks lining the wall by the bin. As Talia approached, Briar straightened and devoted her full attention to the illustrious Daughter of the Demon.

Blinking as Talia brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face, Briar looked up at Talia with some amount of wonder. Though almost immediately the lady’s query cowed her once more. “Oh, I…” Briar looked down at Talia’s garb. Quite a casual yet very tasteful ensemble. “I came prepared! Just give me a moment to change.”

Still kind of flustered, Briar knelt down and slid out a drawer from the bin. Procuring a large purse from it, she glanced at Talia uncertainly for a moment. She offered her a slight bow before jogging off to the restrooms slightly away from the main walkway. Once inside, she locked herself inside of a stall and rapidly changed into a red silk blouse and denim pants with heeled boots. She stuffed her other clothing back into the purse and popped out of the stall, hands letting down her fiery red hair.

Over at the sink, she washed her face and hands, cleaning off the earth that marked her. Fluffing out her hair slightly as she examined herself in the mirror. Looked alright. Fashionable. Like someone the great Daughter of the Demon would not be embarrassed to be seen in public with, which is really what mattered to her. Briar let out a little sigh and turned to leave, exiting the bathroom. “My apologies for the wait, my lady. Is this attire suitable?”

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The rapid change from insolent to respectful has always given her pause. Especially with the batch of newer recruits for her father's vision, she had noted the lack of respect until her, or her father were present. As if it were a game, or a joke, or a means to an end. Most did not realize just how disposable they were in this sort of organisation, nor did they seem to care. Those that did care, carried themselves differently.

Then again, she did need to remember the age of these ...people. While she seemed to be near ageless, her appearance altering at her whim from years of experience, she still hovered at a middling thirties appearance, give or take a few years. Only nodding to the child as she sputtered apologies and dashed off to change, she settled upon a bench to wait out this transformation from dirt to heading out ensemble.

The boots made a distinct sound as Briar approached her once more, clad in something demure, yet trendy. It would do for the evening.

"It shall suffice for our task. We are young professionals, out for an evening and night of 'letting loose' as they say in this city. What is good in Gotham for entertainment?"

With a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes, Talia stands in one fluid motion, a hand waved in front of her to encourage the younger assassin to lead the way.

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Briar managed to relax a bit internally as Talia approved of her attire for the evening. Not that she would usually wear something like this. No, a T-shirt and a pair of jeans was more her style. But, those were not something you wore in the presence of an al Ghul. She nodded simply as Talia explained their cover before considering Talia’s query.

“It’s my understanding that the night club ‘scene’ is very popular,” she commented as she stepped forward to take the lead at Talia’s beck and call. “Bars are also considered good for entertainment, strip clubs, the theatre…” Briar went on trying to think of more options for the timeless assassin. As she exited the Botanical Gardens, she paused and held the door open for Talia.

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A wry smile teased at her lips as a brief nod was her response to the child. No, assassin. She'd need to speak to her father about this one. While she was keenly acquainted with Gotham and it's entertainment she oft liked to query how much those that received assignment here had gleaned. And at the moment, she was satisfied.

"We are not dressed for the theatre, nor more highbrow events tonight. Either a nightclub, or a bar perhaps. I trust your judgement."

Continuing through the door held open for her there was no halting in gait as she continued through the gardens. They were lush, beautiful, and alien. As vibrant as the flowers, trees and blossoms were, she did find herself yearning for the clean lines of her youth.

And so would start their evening.

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“Hmm…” Was all Briar managed as a response as Talia proceeded through the gardens. Briar’s personal paradise. And…in ways, every bit as vicious and ruthless as the sands in which she had trained in her younger days. Poisons and thorns and other such natural defenses. Plants fascinated her. Unfortunately, their little trip out tonight would not include such simple pleasures for Briar.

No, instead they would be the worst of Gotham. It’s corruption. Weakness. As Briar exited the lush Botannical Gardens, she had arrived at her conclusion. Nightclubs varied in class. Some were grungy dance clubs…others…more sophisticated. And always possessed a bar.

“A nightclub then,” Briar concluded, “Ah! The Iceberg Lounge is quite renowned in Gotham. I suggest there. Shall I hail a cab for us…ah…what am I to call you tonight, mistress?”

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The girl was so sweet. Even has her dark, exotic eyes lined in kohl watched the taller woman, she had to let a brief smile touch her lips. Ah, the joys of youth. And the reverence for their elders. It was if her mere presence caused some of the newer assassins to lose their bearings. She was nothing more than mere offspring of the great Demon. His daughter, not his son, even. And so, they still trembled and begged forgiveness's and stumbled upon antiquated honorifics that did nothing in this young country across the waters.

So she humored them. For would the daughter of the great Ra's ever seek a night of pleasure in such a dark city bursting with filth? They would never ask the question, so the answer would never be bequeathed. A pity, considering this was one of the few cities in the world she knew intimately. It was such a hovel at times, with it's humanity clinging to their electronic toys as well as their newest obsessions. And the comedies and tragedies that were in it's underbelly. It was much better than the trash on the televisions. So much more entertaining to watch the delusions of grandeur in humans convinced they were entirely correct, and the convictions to follow through on their decisions.

The voice of the young one requested a response. Raising a brow she responded one of her many alias,' "Lailah seems fitting to be butchered tonight in one of Gotham's night scenes. My true name means little to this city's denizens." And it was true. Those that cared to listen, if they heard the name Lailah, would know she was in their midst. Those that cared to know, would start thumbing through Rolodex to wonder why Alnur Lailah had come to Gotham once more. It had been a few years, considering she had other preoccupations. She was never in once place for too long. Favoring one area over another was a way to falter. That was a lesson she had learned by the age of nine. So, so many years before.

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Frowning slightly at Talia’s choice of alias, Briar wondered vaguely if she would manage to stop herself from repeatedly correcting the ignorant swine of Gotham on its correct pronunciation. Oh well. If that was how the daughter of the Demon wished to be addressed, far be it from her to go against her wishes. “Alright then, Lailah,” Briar replied conversationally, her demeanor switching to one more appropriate for the occasion.

Stepping off the curb and into the street slightly, Briar signaled for a cab. It wasn’t very long before one spotted them and pulled up to the curbside. Resisting the instinctive urge to hold open the door of the cab for Talia, she simply opened the door and slid inside, leaving it open for Talia to hop in beside her. “The Iceberg Lounge,” she said simply to the driver.

Folding her arms over her chest, she wondered what sort of conversation she might strike up with Talia. What did one talk about with the daughter of the Demon? Something to do with the depravity of Gotham, she supposed, but surely there was something else. More to Talia al Ghul than the doctrine of the League. Briar frowned as her face scrunched up, trying to figure something out to talk about.

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It never ceased to amaze her at what great lengths her own people sought to be on their best behavior around her. She was not her father, yet the Assassins seemed to pride themselves on doctrine and protocol around her. Even on such an endeavor as this; an outing for pleasure, it seemed Kitsune was still frantic, reaching for straws, as the Westerners claimed, and not grasping any.

Once suitable transportation was acquired, she moved to be seated as well, pulling the cab door closed behind them both. After several moments of silence, Talia would gently reach out to the girl; a girl, for Talia was much, much older than her appearance told, and gingerly disengaged the defensive position her arms sought to protect it's bearer.

"Briar. We are here for a night of indulgence, not one where marks are given at the end of the night. We have goals, but none are pass, nor fail this evening. The Iceberg is a hotseat of criminal activity, but also one of the best nightlife places in this city. Breath. We will have fun. And you will realize while I am my Father's daughter, I am not him in all things."

Offering a kind smile, Talia would relinquish the girl's arm with a gentle squeeze. A kindness sometimes helped to foster the image that she was capable of humanity and generosity. Other times it pushed the recipient to further duty. Her mind would not be lost on hedging bets.