[color=orange][center][h1][i][b]Tuesday 19:32 VICE Nightclub, Claremont [/b][/i][/h1][/center][/color] [color=gold][center][h2][i][b]The Doors[/b][/i][/h2][/center][/color] Lightning Girl was dutifully keeping the peace. Scanning QR codes. Pushing away chancers. Only having to draw electricity once to jab someone back. But everyone played ball. She was charming, good as ever. Friendly. Chatty, but formal. Professional. The mark of an SDN hero doing their job. Scan ticket. Check, search, take items for the cloakroom, open barrier, in. Next. Scan ticket. Check, search, items, open, next, scan, check, search, open, scan, no ticket, no tickets left, sorry, not tonight, think this through, next, scan ticket, search...... How Madcap was getting on she wasn't sure, but the crowd was getting inside, and they would be done soon. Free to go. There were a few more left, a few keen getting out of the rain and inside the nightclub and the small security station that Lightning Girl manned, making sure no trouble was going to happen. And then there he was. And all the music inside, the pounding electronica, seemed to almost pulse to a crawl. [b]Soundtrack: [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=90DKXLbzLto]Lord Huron- The Night We Met[/url] [/b] It was like a moment that time slowed for her. "Hey." She simply said, the rest of the spiel dissolving in her head. That was not the way to open that conversation. It was Quickdraw. [i] It wasn't even formal. What the fuck, Sophie? You're meant to say "Tickets, please." Not Hey. What the fuck?[/i] Hollywood was so far. Why was he here? "Uhhh.......here? Y'all scanning?" He brought out his QR code from his phone but she was locked on him. Holy shit. She hadn't imagined it, it was actually him. Quickdraw. The Texan Sureshot. The fastest hands in the Lone Star State. The guy who shot 12 criminals in 3 seconds with two revolvers at a bank heist. In their hands, disarming them. Rounding them up like cattle, on his own. So maybe he had the fastest hands in the world when it came to marksmanship. It was why he was in SDN Hollywood. Brown Stetson, checked shirt, leather vest, a tiny whisper of a beard, but the charm of any cowboy you could dream of. The sort of thing a horsegirl would get weak at the knees imagining, in his late 20s, near her own age. The kind of man any woman like Sophie would have had posters of as a kid. Even the Westerns. His calloused, rough hands, his almost boyish charm despite the experience he had in firearms and being the kind of hero that Hollywood fell over itself for, despite the good ol' days of Westerns being long gone. She moved the ticketing machine up and it gave a positive beep with the trigger, scanning his QR code on his phone to fill void, as she tried to find words, putting it down. And not finding any. "Uhhhh, are you meant to search me? Just a heads up, I'm carrying." He said, this type of thing entirely, if not completely odd. He of course, found the white haired, yellow vest wearing hero cute, but not in the way she did. At least, at first. Sophie was still lost for words. Shocked he would come here. And she had a job to do, as she started her search, cursory, but not really doing much. Aware of it. [i]Say something, Soph. He's hot as hell but you can't be awkward like this.[/i] "Right. Of course. You can't.....take those in. As you know." She said, feeling both revolvers, and awkwardly the enormous Bowie knife at his hip, pointing to the secure box, letting him draw, knowing that she could taze the living fuck from him if he did go psycho. Which he wouldn't. Because he was the kind of hero that people like Madcap really looked up to. Shit, Madcap hadn't even clocked him. Best it was that way. This would get so much more awkward. Where was he? "Ah yeah. Sorry. I forget." He replied with his usual drawl, as he peeled them all out and put them into the box, the engraved, custom made Smith and Wesson revolvers, chambered in .357, iconic. Carbon black barrels, smoked cherry wood grips, with so much weathering behind them. And the Bowie knife that was the length of her forearm. Holy shit. Iconic because Quickdraw was one of the main members of SDN Hollywood's team, and if anyone in the world knew heroes in the City of Angels, outside of DTLA, these were the ones SDN paraded the most on social media. Perhaps not as practical as the real crime-fighters of DTLA, nor the straight up veterans of Compton, but showstoppers. And Quickdraw was stopping her show. "Thanks. Gonna need to search for any other stuff. Protocol." She patted him down, finding no more knives, or other stuff she could consider damaging. Boots that weren't for dancing yet for ranching, but as she finished the check, he had put his Stetson in the box and was pale blonde, as she was at his eye level, and trying not to come to terms with the fact that she almost had fallen for his charm then and then. Why was he here? This was a big electronica night, surely he would hate this, and he would love country and western? Was it friends, other people, business, something else? Who could tell. It was weird, that was for sure, because he wasn't casual, he was 90% Quickdraw, at a loud night out. She was looking at him just thinking that. And he noticed her too, the gears clicking who he was looking at. This wasn't just some hero with a cape, anyone could do that, her hands had a gentle buzz about them even behind the rubber gloves she wore, her skin was pins and needles on edge at her neck, her aura was of ozone, a smell felt before seen. And realised the collar. The bee. The bus he saw on the way here with her spewing power from hands. And the stories. Good, bad. The one that moved from Britain. She was cute. At work, but cute. He'd be polite. Hospitable. Nice in response. Try and follow chat. "Thanks. I get separation anxiety, I apologise, my guns and I....are like one team. Say are you....Lightning Girl? What are you doing here at a place like this?" He recognised her. Her heart nearly fluttered. "You recognise me? Oh my God, thank you! I didn't want to make a big deal of it because you're on a night out..." Sophie started, keeping her voice down as best as she could push it.... [i]Don't fucking say "I'm a huge fan", Sophie, don't fucking say it, don't, you'll look like a creep, it will be weird, you have to not let him think you're finding him cute, and that would be really....[/i] "But you're definitely as cool in person as you are on the TV! I guess I'm just helping out subscribers, doing the good work for SDN....so enjoy tonight, and uhh....." Sophie said, as he looked to the box of his belongings, about to go through to the cloakroom for safekeeping from the Head of Security's position from the table to her side, looking back as he didn't move. He clearly had an eye on her. A hero like her on security work, that was odd, but Lightning Girl? Before the others had arrived, she was one of the premier heroes of the SDN Claremont team, in person, in spite a vest and headset, quite striking. He had a million and one fangirls. And fanboys, for that matter, but he could tell something was spinning in Sophie's heart. Gently. Maybe it was in her mind. He wasn't thinking that way, because he had friends to catch up with in music he didn't like. Lightning Girl didn't know what to think, or how to finish quite what she was saying. [i]Oh god. Don't do this. Don't fucking do this, Soph. He's gonna think you're weird and he just wants to get through tonight. But you're Lightning Girl. She's so much braver than you. She can do anything. Including talking to him, you socially awkward freak. Say you want to talk. Worst he can say is no. Worst he can do is shoot your head off twelve times in half a second with the revolvers four feet from him. But you'd shock him first because you're the Silver Queen of Manchester. Do it. [/i] "Could I drop you a line on Slack? I...kinda would love to see what Hollywood's like....I guess I've never been recognised before. Sorry, you must get this all the time. I'll make sure your guns are looked after. If you get separation anxiety that is!" She tried to clarify, being confident, her voice going from confident, assured, to almost melting. Holy shit, he was so fucking hot without that hat on. Dammit, he was better than the giant billboard. Or the voice. Fuck he could melt her, right now, but she played it off as much as she could. Was there a double entendre in there? She couldn't tell. She couldn't say. Quickdraw chuckled, nodding, not noticing that Lightning Girl was having an existential crisis, given how loud the music was. "Sure, when you're done here handling the crowd. Have a good evening, Lightning Girl. My boys are already in VIP. This ain't my kinda show, but, they insisted I come....y'all have a good one. You and your bug faced friend. Let's talk later." He smiled, chuckling as he walked on by, Sophie cranking her neck to look at him and call out politely, though not to draw attention to the others in the queue. "Have a good evening too!" She called, not wanting to make too much hassle, as she turned to the next clubgoer. And bleep. Check. In. Next one. Alien. Kinda looked like that Lana, from Torrance's Mailroom. Some clicks. But positive when checked. And through she went. And next. And next. Quickdraw occupied her mind. [i]It wasn't like this. He was some big hero. That wasn't how romance worked. It wasn't, this was shitty, stupid, he was here just for a night he didn't want to remember, but he was so fucking....hot. And real. And charming. And once so far from people like her, but he actually looked at her. She thought he did. He would message her. He was charmed by her? Was she charming? Was he charming her? She had no idea. From his perspective, was this candid, was he into her, or was this overthinking?[/i] But she let it go. The pulses nearly bursting her mind as monotony was broken up by another rejection, second to last in queue. Ouch. They didn't kick off when she stared into the punter's soul to make it clear, any wrong move, and Lightning Girl would send him flying across the street into a bin like she did that fucking touchy-feely asshole back home. Shift was done as the last people went in, and the doors closed, and the night really took off. Not for Madcap and Lightning Girl. They were done here, and they would head RTB, as Lightning Girl took off her vest once back in security's office, and her headset, looking to Madcap. "Should we head home? Come on. I can give you a lift." She smiled to her co-deployed hero, drawing a ton of power out of a plug socket, glove back on as she offered him a hand. [hr] [color=orange][center][h1][i][b] Tuesday 19:58 SDN Claremont [/b][/i][/h1][/center][/color] [color=gold][center][h2][i][b]Cat Out of Bag[/b][/i][/h2][/center][/color] The successes were big. Really big. Shit, James expected there to be a lot more hassle in both cases for the groups. Civilians saved, fire managed, cats even brought out. What a result. They'd shown incredible bravery, even by hero standards, to save lives and spare any more damage to the area. Both of which were critical, and even if he didn't feel the flames, he had to guess how hard it would have been. The sort of things heroes did. Then the high speed chase. One involuntary amputation, but James already had partly filled in the KIA form, expecting the call to be of dead suspects and a lot more carnage. The team had been ingenious in stopping the Chevy and no more casualties, crooks, cops, or civilians, had happened, with very little damage left for the cleanup crews. It was literally textbook. The balloon was back down too. What a win that was. And one happy subscriber, even if Eclipse may have questioned it. Even the nightclub, one successful dispatch, in spite of antics occurring. A good image from SDN there, and James wondered how Lightning Girl had controlled Madcap. She'd probably let him know later, he guessed. James put his headset down, and breathed out a long sigh of relief, the message coming through on his phone. Kat. [hr][b][center][h3][code] Kat (Claremont Director) [Batt: 99%][/code][/h3][/center][/b] [color=#1EFF24]"Big saves today. Claremont is being recognised, great turnaround. Regional director wants to talk." [/color] James gave a gentle whistle, giving the message thought. Shit. What did that mean? He'd never been in a position like this. Two days in felt too soon, but was it really that impressive? Then again, half of the east side was being held together by Claremont's mighty nine, (though that went up to 12 depending on who you asked). And while rates were decent, this was something spectacular. The rest of the shift, and the team had gelled faster than he would expect. This wasn't some redemption story, where a plucky bunch of losers came together. This felt more like heroes, even the Phoenix Programme lot coming together and hitting the ground running. They had a dispatcher to thank for that, but James didn't think himself much. He had good resources, plenty of it, and his KPIs were basically, don't let Claremont burn down. It wasn't Compton, so stopping the major stuff and keeping the minor ticking, was credit to his team. Hat Trick had done incredibly well, and he was lucky to have what Riley left behind. Outside maybe a few situations needing some brains, even then, he had a few aces up his sleeve. So it all worked well. His mantra worked. Do the work and it pays, literally, and figuratively. He put himself exactly where he needed to be when they needed him, and now, here he was, getting that recognition. He wasn't a hero, but man, he got this game. With push close on the computer, all heroes back to base, he called it there and then and gathered the Kefir bottle and threw it into a bin, trawling across the emptying office. He was never an optimist, shit could always go wrong, always, but for now, it was fine. And that was enough. James headed over towards the break room, where he found an assortment of the team, all returning in, all in various states of being wet from being outside in the pouring rain. He had many regards to give. "Kat passes her regards on. All of you did very well today. Really, really well done, you deserve the applause and credit you got from public, and socials are going off nicely like Hat Trick mentioned on Slack. And shoutout to Blackstar and Feno on your first days, welcome to the Claremont team and hitting the ground running. Really, really good work from all of you. We're making a name for ourselves and while it's early days, I think we can make ourselves one of the best shifts in LA County if we keep smashing KPIs like this. That's all you." James started, smiling, trying not to be patronising, but seeming genuinely upbeat. More than his usual self. Why? Well... "We all ready to celebrate with a beer or two tonight? This credit card isn't gonna spend itself. You have more than earned that." James asked as he waved it with a grin, attendance virtually mandatory, well, not unless they really felt like. After the high of that dispatch, a beer felt like a nice way to celebrate. Lightning Girl smiled, all the mugs put away and the dishwasher switched on, feeling a natural reply. "Well, obviously! I'll take you there, on account of you being you know, flightless. Can I catch you a second?" She replied on behalf of the team, standing a little in front of them, chuckle on face, as James nodded. "Alright then. Everyone, get yourselves timed out. We'll meet at The Cowl in 15, it's round the block." James finalised, as Lightning Girl headed the other way from the others, likely punching out, maybe awaiting James, but likely noticing he was staying behind, tidying up the remains of what was left in the kitchen, glad she could chat privately. She had something to stay, occupying that doorway. "I almost forgot to mention.....we might have a new guest." She smiled, winking at Asteroid as he walked away and giving him the finger guns, as the cat emerged from behind the door, the teeny, tiny kitten making a squeak, as Sophie nearly cried with joy, the mackerel tabby safe in her soft hands as she picked it up from where she stood, the kitten crawling between her feet. She presented the kitten to James, who got another squeak from the touch of his hands. His eyes nearly popped out of his skull in shock. "What the......Lightning, you know I can't...." "Well, I am sure he would love a friend that sits miserable behind a desk all day." She reassured, giving him a teeny rub, the squeak indicating he was not enjoying the bright light. A gorgeous, confused ball of grey and black brought home by Asteroid was now home. "Shit, we can't look after a cat. It's.....so small! Like how, I need to focus on you and the team, not....." "Relax. We have already got this. We've got a little box for him made from a bin that we made between dispatches. We thought you needed a furry companion. And look at him!" "Have you named them?" James wasn't sure of his gender even if Sophie was, the kitten squeaking more. "Aww.....he is scared. No, not yet. I was thinking 50 Shades of Grey but you can't call this little munchkin that." She giggled, as it all but confirmed it was a boy cat then, as Sophie tried to get out of its way in the light from James's embrace, the tiny ball of fur likely terrified in this new environment. "Well, we'll need to drink and give him a name......as long as he has food and something to drink tonight in a box, but he has to go to a shelter. We can't do this. It's....." James said, as Lightning Girl sighed, gently sliding the kitten back into her hands, the teeny thing squeaking again as she held them against her chest, keeping him warm. "Come on, James. Settle down a little." She replied, walking across the office, finding the tiny little bin that had been turned into a makeshift kitten home by James's desk, with a little lid that had in big marker pen, "DO NOT TOUCH, KTITEN INSIDE" written all over it. Sophie was not a cat expert either. But it was best this kitty didn't run around and after such a big night, had a little saucer of water and some tiny bits of someone else's tuna sandwich she had quietly stolen to eat tonight, before they sorted this all out in the morning. The kitten meeped as she gently slid the door of the tipped over wastepaper bin open, and cooed, looking back up at James past her hair. "Aww....how can you not? Like, I promise. It will be fine. If it isn't, then yeah, fire me for it. I'd die for that kitten." She replied, standing up, taller than him, as he chuckled. "Yeah, okay, when you put it like that." James chirped back, looking back inside as the kitten meowed again. "Maybe we call him Felix?" Sophie laughed, as James filled in her silence, as if she was enjoying this. Enjoying keeping her mind off what happened earlier, James adding in words. "Never seen this side of you. One kitten and you're melting like a...." James got there in the end as she tazed him with an instant reply, making him leap across the room, both of them laughing, heading downstairs, where almost everyone had cleared out, and to shy of reception where the timecard machine sat. He was gonna die of a heart attack sometime thanks to her, but, James could take a punt she'd also be throwing so much more electricity his heart would start again. That was a joke. Right? With a bleep of her credentials away, Sophie led the way, the rain seemingly picking up even more beyond the reception hall. "I hate flying in the rain." She uttered, looking out at the blattering of it on the window, brushing her hair back, and without asking, picking him up, walking through the automatic doors. "Come on then....." Sophie added, and with more sparks than usual, lept into the sky and made a course for The Cowl Inn. [hr] [color=orange][center][h1][i][b] Tuesday 20:16 The Cowl Inn Taproom, Downtown Claremont [/b][/i][/h1][/center][/color] [color=gold][center][h2][i][b]It Comes In Pints[/b][/i][/h2][/center][/color] Upon the soft arrival in the alley next door to the fancier part of town, Sophie and James were walking out from where the trash was into the main street, amongst the hubub of the main student area of Claremont. James in his technical raincoat was still soaked, as was Lightning Girl, hair absolutely sodden from the deluge that had rained on down, her cape completely drenched through. But the bar was a warm reprieve, and the heater was on by the door. On a Tuesday, especially rainy like this, it was much quieter, significantly less so than usual, and The Cowl Inn had a tiny strip of neon, with an old-timey metal sign posted above the door. Through which, revealed quite a different establishment than a usual hero or villain dive bar. The bar was a beautiful place, if you liked your weird, indie, alternative place. [b]Soundtrack: [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mzgFDLtaCxA]Friday Pilots Club - Trading Punches[/url] [/b] A taproom with massive steel tanks, hiding the actual operations of the Lost Lamplight Brewery, a microbrewery that specialised in brewing up stuff that most civies couldn't drink- truly diabolically strong beers, most of which strangely, weren't that accessible on tap here (bar a couple) due to licencing laws. But the cans behind the bar in the fridge were 80% proof, and enough to send almost any super into a stupor, or at least, slightly tipsy. If pure alcohol, literally, flavoured ethanol, didn't. There were almost seemingly an endless amount of normal IPAs to pick from, as if they had a portal into another dimension to reach into to grab IPA from. You could drink here for a month or two and not get bored, there was that much choice- but that meant as a result, seating was extremely limited. Even so, the bar was actually half empty, bar one or two students catching up, which meant from the moment the team entered the tiny little bar, probably about perfect in size for the team's number tonight, the short, brunette barwoman putting away a glass she'd been cleaning as part of her boredom killing regime on a Tuesday- they were THE crowd. A wall could be seen with various beermats and heroes signatures, with various little trinkets and logos joining it, a few tables and chairs against a plywood backed surface that made up the majority of the seating. Spartan, but in its own way, charming. A giant cardboard cutout of Phenomaman for some reason sat next to the bar, sscaled accordingly to his size, as did a Drink Responsibly poster with a picture of Quickdraw on it, one of the SDN Hollywood heroes that Lightning Girl had happened to chance upon back at VICE. Shit. The one she had suddenly grown her little fantasy crush into something real. [i]And hopefully not added herself to a register. No, it was fine....[/i] There was also, interestingly, a karaoke machine in a corner, that appeared to have a small ocean of dust on it from how few people had the balls to use it. Indie bands had done little sessions in here in that area, but nobody really came to watch a performance when they wanted solid indie beers / ciders and the place was the size of a shoebox. There wasn't much more to it, the place barely the size of someone's living room in terms of the sitting area, although the kitchen adjacent to the brewery indicated that someone was deep frying fries, right on schedule for the booking. James led the way in, despite being the least silhouetted of all of them, with a rare smile that came from finally being at the end of a heavy, big day. "Right. Who wants a drink, first one's on SDN!" James said looking backwards, letting others order, Lightning Girl putting her hand out and excitedly smiling at the barlady, hand against bar itself and discharging current into the bar, giving anyone who touched it a small buzz. "Sorry! Can I get a...." [hr] [b]Sitting down with the Intergalactic Witch, James was the casual looking one amongst Hat Trick, Eclipse, Princess and Payback.[/b] James received his pint in due course, as the others had theirs poured from the seemingly endless array of pourers, and a couple of basket of Dirty, Dirty Fries joined it. Drizzled in an endless amount of mayo, pulled pork, melted Monterrey Jack, Stilton and Blue Cheese topped up with a drizzle of Hot Honey, it was *disgusting*. In more words, disgustingly tasty once you got past the clusterfuck of flavour it was. He passed out one large tray of it to the table that he wasn't going to where the other heroes were gathering and filling in the space, before he put it down at his where there was at least some space, before going back for his pint. His rain jacket was thrown on a coatrack nearby, though the rest of his trousers and feet were soaking. A small sip of beer contacted his stubble whilst the majority ended up as a comfy gulp after a hard day sweating over the mouse and keyboard, as he put the glass down into the mat, shuffling into the tight space between Eclipse and Hat Trick, who were physically imposing. "Thanks." James was among all of them, the most ordinary, NPC of any character. Without an SDN shirt on, he looked like he fit here if this wasn't a hero bar, glasses away given he'd put his contacts in off work, given all the rain outside. He was just anyone else. Normal. An NPC, amongst actual, real heroes. He felt out of place at hero bars, but then again, he reasoned he had an excuse as any to come here. He wasn't the main show, they were, but he was able to help them do this. And get them pissed. Well. Within reason. An eclectic bunch, more quiet than maybe Lightning Girl's table, James knew they were still all top tier. From Hat Trick's icy antics and hard work behind the scenes that many would take for granted but he really, really appreciated given it was his own weak point (hero consulting required everything, after all, and he was much better with the tasks at hand rather than socials)- to Princess, who was as ever, in her almost monochrome look, pretty dress as ever being as gentle as ever. Hiding all of the absolute terror she could unleash but hey, a beer maybe would loosen the cogs, though hopefully without maiming someone. And then there was Eclipse and Payback. First two he'd had to manage in the Phoenix Programme. They'd been shy, quiet, and sometimes, difficult. The former due to drugs, the latter due to her anti-hero self, not literally because she was edgy, she was anti this. But they were both doing well. Doing well enough to make James write positively in reports about them. He wasn't like the Americans, who were ruthlessly corporate. Keep your people on side, your people would save you. For heroes, literally. So he meant what he said as he sat down, the weakest man in this bar. "Cheers for dealing with all the shit going on lately. Thought this would loosen the team up. For what it's worth, I'd have probably gotten the beers in if Kat hadn't forced me to use the company card." James said more generally, looking to all of them, hoping they'd strike conversation as he did. "I have no idea what's up with Riley, by the way. Guess I'm in the same boat as you." James sipped down more, looking across. "So cheers to keeping this thing afloat?" James put his glass out, hoping to get a clink. "Anyway. You got plans for the weekend? Up to anything nice that doesn't involve running into burning buildings or splitting cars in two? Normal stuff? You're all people at the end of the day, this isn't some workplace sitcom that my......yeah." James cut himself off. Fuck. Half a beer in and he was nearly spilling it? Calm the fuck down, you moron, he said to himself internally. [i]Say fucking something or they will know, windowlicker.[/i] "Like yeah, you have lives. Okay, Phoenix Programme, I get it, prison and remand and all that, bar Hat Trick who is almost certainly watching ice hockey highlights from 2004. But you three have freedom and you can do whatever you want now. And I have no idea what to do in this hot as fuck town, so surely you have something cool going on. Or just chilling out. I know I would after this week." James mused, almost cynical, sipping beer to avoid explaining his feelings. "There are hills to go walking in and endless traffic to get lost in, and lots of desert. I don't know how you all do it, so I guess that got me...." James asked, almost wondering if he could get an answer. A question that felt perhaps more open, the dispatcher revealing perhaps a more hollowed side to him. The kind that corporate wanted wherever the work was, chasing dollars, chasing savings, chasing not being fixed to an SDN contract yet following his own tail to keep it that way. A consultant's life was a nomadic one, contract to contract, person to person, moment to moment. He had no ties to anything, yet because of it, he was open, almost unlike a dispatcher, almost a little more human. Temporary yet an everyman, like the people across the stalls who were also drinking, just here for some reason, even if that reason was this team before him. "God this is strong...." He muttered, sipping it down, this stuff certainly heavier than most IPAs he'd drunk, until he saw the percentage. 12%. Fuck me, this was like wine.....no wonder, he realised, this was definitely punching past his weight for an easy Tuesday beer. [hr] [b]Lightning Girl arrived at the booth, where Feno, Madcap, Blackstar and Asteroid sat.[/b] She had a cool glass of Double Lemon Aid, the lemon flavoured Double Hazy Ale going down a treat as she took the glass into a rubber-gloved hand, carrying it gently without trying to spill any on her already sodden wet costume, remarkably, not having the best balance for someone who was metabolically charged and still had a little bit of juice inside of her. There they were. The two-black suited heroes, one female, the other male, one dark energy, the other gravity. Cosmic duo. Feno, of course, needed no explaining as she got past him, the big guy charming and goofy as ever, even if he was even more aloof than Phenomaman himself. Clones were a weird business, but she liked him. And Madcap. He was what he was, but after work, they were all beers in hand, and she had at least known he was what he was. She sat herself down, wet cape draped by one of her legs and to her side as she detached the clasp and put it on a nearby coathanger, as she finally got to enjoy the sip of a well earned post shift, and most importantly, free, beer. It barely tickled her, so it felt like drinking a slightly spicy lemonade, given her metabolism was already working on ejecting the alcohol through her liver. She parked herself next to Feno and Blackstar, keeping the smaller hero from being as much in the shadow of the bigger one. Like an average almost. "I am starving! I could eat a horse!" She leaned in and grabbed a chip, needing that sweet, sweet filth in her. "Okay, not literally.....sorry, it's a British thing! Anyway, I am so glad today went as well as it did. You all did amazing! So stoked for you...especially you two on your first day! Asteroid, you're like born to do this too, like you're nearly at the top of the leaderboard!" She smiled to the two right next to her then across to the gravity based hero, putting her glass out and keeping it in hand. "Cheers to that!" She added, as casual as ever, hoping to get some clinks in, before sighing, leaning back, taking it in. "I love this place. It's so original, you know! Like, so many bars are so crappy. They're all stuck up and serve nothing but Coors. But this place? They've got a cool wall of stuff of heroes before us! Good fries! And nobody comes here! Okay, because it's a Tuesday night but still.....I think this is Claremont's premier hero establishment cos of us, you know? I mean.....we're kinda a big deal!" She smiled, trying to big the team up, a little energised, as she took some fries and un-girly-like, wolfed down. "Okay. Sort of. Maybe I got ahead of myself. But it's looking like we're at least stuck together for a bit longer." She cleared that with a bit more beer, sighing, leaning back, adjusting her cowl with one hand before looking to the others at her table. "So, Feno, I know you're from probably out of this world. Blackstar, Asteroid, you two both.....seem very cosmic. Would it be fair to say we're kinda the same? I mean, I'm not from another planet, I'm from England, which I know to Americans sounds like it is, but.....yeah, I know, it's kinda crazy we have that in common, cos I guess I got powers from something that wasn't terrestrial? Oh, and Madcap here is just out of this world too, I suppose. In his own way!" She smiled to the group and giving a chuckle on the latter with a smile at Madcap, getting chatty, as she drank more beer down, sighing a gentle bit of relief. Lightning Girl could be like this, the extravert, the social battery that she physically was. But given she was still carrying power, her social skills were still alight, trying to spark conversation. "Kinda makes me think. I wonder what it would be like to be out of this world you know. Like, literally. High above it all. Look down from space on it all....my lungs gave out by the time I think I cleared 100,000 feet. Feno, have you ever done that?" She piqued interest, the conversation probably having more than enough strands to break off into anyone else, and cascade from there.