[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/CMLTAgm.png[/img]

January 9th, 7:00 PM
Haven Cultural Center, Gotham NJ[/center]

Emma Graves stepped out of her top-floor office, catching the eye of her personal assistant, Ace Hyh. The tall, somewhat nerdy man made eye contact with her before glancing towards the waiting are outside her office and mouthing 'reporter'. Emma sighed, pausing before she turned the corner and making sure her suit jacket was straight. After a moment, she pasted on a bright smile and turned the corner, extending her hand to the waiting brunette woman fiddling with her audio recorder. 

[color=9e0b0f]"Emma Graves, Haven founder. It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms...?"[/color]

Reacting with a start, the woman stood up and fumbled with her recorder, turning it on before extending her other hand to accept the shake. "Oh! Laney Losset, Gotham Daily. We're a new startup blog for the greater Gotham area, and I was hoping to get a brief interview with you?"

[color=9e0b0f]"Of course, we can walk and talk. Give me just one moment."[/color] Emma said with a polite smile before turning to Ace. [color=9e0b0f]"I'll take the stairs down to the parking garage in order to have time to answer Ms. Losset's questions. Please get my car ready and unlock the doors. I'll be there soon."[/color] Trusting her assistant pick up on the message she was sending, Emma turned back to the reporter, noting with amusement that she appeared to be thrown off by the though of taking the stairs all the way down from the top floor.

The interview went mostly well in Emma's opinion. The questions were mostly softballs, obviously a probing interview from an amateur reporter. The only potential problem had come as Emma described the psychiatric services Haven offered, mentioning that Doctor Quinzel often provided her services. That had led to a discussion about the ethics of contracting a former supervillain for the cultural center, but Emma had defused the situation by pointing out that Haven was a place for marginalized minorities, and that there were few more marginalized that a reformed leader of the Joker gang. All too soon, the reporter had grown tired of the rehearsed answers and the long climb down the stairwell, and she left Emma alone to find an elevator, cutting the interview short.

Climbing down a few more floors, Emma Graves exited the stairwell, looking around the floor she found herself on. The art workshop, still bustling with activity from some of Haven's more artistically talented patrons. Spending a few minutes examining a particularly impressive sculpture being worked on by an elderly harpy, Emma excused herself and stepped into the waiting elevator. Tapping a secret code into the button pad, she smiled as the machine lurched, being drawn into a secret elevator shaft and descending into the depth of her building. Knocking twice on a section of the elevator wall, the embedded magical rune revealed itself, deactivating the magic which disguised Emma Graves form. The illusion of the sharply dressed business woman fell away, replaced by a more colorful woman. The dark purple suit was cut in the same style as her disguise, but laid much more casual on her frame. her metallic, gauntlet-like gloves clicked together as she tugged at her cuffs. What little skin could be seen turned pure, pale, porcelain white as her hair shifted into a wild mess of colors. Anarkee stretched and clapped her hands together once as she descended,looking forward to the night ahead of her.

Scant moments later, the elevator dinged and Anarkee stepped out into a dimly lit, silk-curtained reception room. a man sat behind a desk here, his purple robe marking him as one of her mages. "Ah, Ms. Anarkee, you've arrived. The party is in full swing, as Ace instructed. Turnout is high tonight, I believe we picked up a larger attendance from the New Years crowd, which should bring some life into the club. There have been no incidents thus far, and your normal place is waiting for you.

[color=9e0b0f]"Lovely. Thanks Jeeves,"[/color] Anarkee responded with a wild grin before parting the curtains in front of her and stepping out into the thumbing base of the club music. Her senses were immediately assaulted by a bevy of stimuli. The contrast of the darkness of the previous room and the now flashing lights and strobing pulses through the smoke interior set her to pause, blinking as her eyes adjusted. The smokey mixture of nicotine, marijuana, incense, sickly-sweet vaping oils, and other unidentified smells would have knocked a lesser human on her ass. Anarkee however, was no lesser human. She took a deep breath as her eyes adjusted, smelling and tasting the conflicting sensations in the air as the thumping beats of the club shook her eardrums and body. The mass of bodies in front of her brought a smile to her face, some dancing wildly to the music of the DJ, some drinking at the bar, some lounging at the edges of the room partaking in illicit substances. There were people sneaking into side rooms for dalliances with their partners, high-stakes gambling taking place on the balcony above, dealings in arms and armor and other illegal dealings happening all around her, with the house taking a cut od every single transaction.

Weaving her way through the crowd, Anarkee was used to the way they parted for her. She had learned long ago that to earn respect you had to own it, and her confident strides and piercing eyes were enough to clear a part for her to the far end of the room, where Ace sat in an ornate chair at the head of the Angel's Table. The other chairs were filled with purple-clad creatures of all types; her lieutenants. The gang was thriving these days, they had scooped up much of the Joker territory after the fall of his gang, and were now engaged in uneasy dealings with Aquila to keep their territory. Ace stood as she approached and moved to his own designated seat next to hers. "Just keeping it warm for you, boss."

[color=9e0b0f]"Thank you, darling."[/color] Anarkee said as she eased herself into the cushioned chair. She sighed and looked around the club, basking in the empire she had built. Taking a sip of her waiting drink, Anarkee finally settled in and looked to her people. [color=9e0b0f]"Right. Now then, down to business."[/color]