2012-10-12 Star City Rockettes

Hell's Kitchen, just as it's getting dark, Mia figures, is as good as any place to start. Having only recently arrived to join her mentor in the city, she's barely started to set down roots in her street contacts. Today, she's not trying to make friends so much as get a general idea of what colours are flying where, and what their usual games are. So, she's turned down a street in one of the less gentrified areas of the Kitchen, and is putting on her best Prey face. She hunches her shoulders a little, walks with her head down, lets all of her usual confidence fade from her posture. Then, she just walks, and waits. It takes a while, a few circles of the few blocks she's mapped out for the night, but eventually, she hears a set of footsteps behind her. With the silent earbuds in her ears, she acts as if she can't hear them, bobbing her head a bit to imaginary music. Crosses the street once, to make sure she is being followed. Yes. Definitely following her.

She uses the reflection in a shop window to size up her pursuer. Tall, wirey, hand in his coat pocket. Gun, or knife? She frowns, and pretends to stop to read a menu posted outside a Thai food place. That's where she lets him grab her, and drag her into an alley. He pulls a knife. She smiles, just a little, but restrains herself. "I don't have anything!" she protests, waiting to see what it is he wants. Money, drugs? It's gonna take a minute of this to find out if he's just some loser, or if he's hooked up with anyone bigger. Just needs to play the victim a little while longer.

Victim! UNCOOL. Dinah Laurel Lance, either legatee or usurper of the Black Canary name depending on whether you ask her or her mother, had been following a different jerk entirely when she spotted Mia. Thing is, she spotted her /change her body language/, and who does that? Who goes into a bad neighborhood at night and deliberately invokes prey, broadcasts victim? So the hell with the jerk-- the Canary's been tailing Mia, waiting. "Not assisted suicide," she decides aloud, stepping into the mouth of the alley and leaning against the wall casually, arms crossed. "Possibly insurance fraud, but I can't think of anyone who insures against muggings. *Potentially* reality television, but god, I'm pretty sure I'd lose my faith in humanity if that's the case."

There are a few moments of exchange between the 'victim' and her attacker. Things then very suddenly take a turn for the better- or worse, depending on which one of them you ask. The girl uses the back of her head to bash in the guy's face, her elbow to give him a blow to the solar plexus, then a few deft movements to not only disarm him, but turn his size and momentum against him, flinging him into the brick wall. "I'll just be keeping this. You clearly don't know how to use it," she says, folding the blade into its handle, and pocketing it. "Someone could get hurt. But thanks, you answered a few questions I had- and hopefully-" she knocks him down, then puts her foot on his chest, and plucks his cell phone from his pocket. It's a cheap burner, he won't miss it, but it will be quite useful to her. "Even more. You've been a /great/ help," she says, chipperly. Then kicks him in the groin. "You did hower try to feel me up, so, fair's fair."

"--or training," amends Black Canary, pushing herself off the wall and jamming her hands in her jacket pockets. Just as casually, she wanders further in, ridiculous heels somehow silent on the pavement. No click-click as she walks. "Don't flip me, kiddo, I was just going to give you backup. But obviously you didn't need it," she adds, leaning to peer clinically down at the man who's currently curled up in the fetal position on the ground. "Good grief. They don't make 'em like they used to, do they?"

Mia Dearden goes wide-eyed for a few seconds. "You're the Black Canary." Yep, way to state the obvious there, Mia. "I'm-" she stops herself, and looks down, at her own clothes, then at the guy on the ground. She takes a few steps away, towards Dinah. "Um. I'm a really big fan," she admits, trying not to gush /too/ much.

"--/and/ you're a Rockets fan," points out Dinah, grinning. "Were you gonna call this guy in, or just let him stew in his misery and let him learn his lesson?" She leans down again, hands still in her pockets, hair Veronica Laking like a boss; she nudges the dude's foot with her boot tip. "Which you have, haven't you? You don't /really/ want your buddies to find out you got the crap kicked out of you by a woman you were assaulting. Once you stop being in agony and wishing you were dead, you'll probably be really, really embarrassed. If you don't do this again, you're a lot less likely to walk into a trap." Finally, Dinah holds out her hand to Mia, straightening up. "You want to get a burger?"

"And my guidance counsellor told me my violent tendancies wouldn't win me any friends," Mia says. "Sure. I figure he can stew in his bruises for a while," she adds. "You know somewhere good around here?" She pauses, then frowns. "Uh, that Daredevil guy isn't gonna show up and get all Batmanny about kicking butt on his turf, is he?" she wonders, eyes cast to the rooftops. "I hear some of those guys can get pretty territorial."

One last backward glance at the guy, who's basically sobbing with his face in the dirt, and Dinah grins crookedly and cocks her head toward the alley's mouth. "No one person, or even group, can claim New York City as solely theirs. If they do, you're allowed to laugh in their faces." Once they're out of the alley-- and out of earshot of sobby over there-- the Canary shrugs lightly and looks amused, sidelong. "I've spent the past year or so in Gotham, which-- I honestly don't know what I was thinking. Jersey? Really? So I don't really know. You pick." And she lowers her voice! Because cloak and dagger. Just not Cloak and Dagger. "Also, what the hell? You were fishing!"

"I play with my strengths. One of my strengths is knowing how to lure in a dirtbag," Mia says with a shrug. "Just got here from Star City, wanted to start putting out feelers," she admits. "I'm... well, I'm clearing some stuff up before I put the mask on all official-like, so..." she nods back towards the alley they left. "I'm doing a little homework." She looks back over her shoulder, then around, to make sure no one else can hear them. "If all goes well over the next few days, I'll be the next Speedy. I just... need to talk to the old one, first." She figures it's safe, considering the woman with her is on the freakin' Justice League and all. As is her boss.

"Represent," says the Canary approvingly, holding up a biker-gloved fist for dappage. "But I'd definitely recommend doing *something* to make yourself-- not look like yourself. If you're going to be doing this in street clothes. I mean, there are cameras *everywhere*." Then she looks thoughtful, and then she's glancing away to hide a look that's part blush, part smirk, and part self-deprecation. THE WORLD MAY NEVER KNOW what that was all about. She's immediately steamrolling on with Mia's topical direction! "Hopefully you get a better outfit than the last one. Congratulations! And I'm still buying burgers. It's getting cold and I'm not kicking ass."

Mia Dearden laughs. "Alright. This place up here doesn't seem too bad. And don't worry, I don't usually look like this, either," she points to her face. She's gone a bit heavy on the makeup tonight, the sort of stuff she used to wear back in the day. "Just as good as any mask." She bumps open the door to a diner with her hip to lead Canary in. It /smells/ like the burgers there are good!