multiversallogs | I had a feeling when I met you, didn't think you had it in you

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I had a feeling when I met you, didn't think you had it in you

Who: Stephanie Brown and Irene Adler [CLOSED]
What: A recruitment drive
Where: The Vault
When: Forward dated a little until after the Vault reopens; Evening
Notes: None
Warnings: Mentions of police brutality, torture

Slowly but surely, Baedal starts to put itself back together. Steph helps out where she can, but for one of the rare times in her life, she decides to take the selfish (at least in her opinion) route and take care of herself first. She takes long baths and sleeps in and spends the entire day relaxing with Kate and talking to her friends on the cohort. It's not quite the vacation she wanted, but it's better than nothing and slowly and surely she starts to put herself back together, until she feels like a functional human again. Killing doesn't come easy to her, even when it's non-sentient monsters, and that alone takes a while for it to feel like the violence has drained out of her system.

Eventually she has to go back to work. Not at the library, she's already back there, and occasional rowdy students aside, it's an easy day. She has to go back to being Batgirl, both physically and mentally, and it's the latter part that she puts off longest. The militia has taken a step back at the moment, focused more on rebuilding efforts and tracking down the last few creatures lurking in shadows than on terrorizing the citizens, so Steph doesn't feel too bad about taking the time off too. But it can't last forever, and she realizes that this crisis has possibly made their job worse - they being the little anti-Militia brigade that Jason put together and that Babs is now coordinating - because the militia saved people's lives and their homes and it's going to be that at the forefront of the citizens' minds, rather than the violence enacted before.

Steph reminds herself that they're playing a long game, that the militia will show it's real face again soon enough and people will remember that they need to be stopped. Jason might've thought about taking out individual targets, weakening the militia and trying to bring them down like that, but Steph knows it's going to need more. They need to start a revolution. Which means they need more than just fighters and tech people and doctors in their club; they need people with influence.

They need someone like Irene Adler, in Steph's honest opinion.

The Woman, as she's known as at the Vault, where she'd been quickly making her way up the ranks of the performers and workers there before the sky had cracked open. Steph had been doing research, after the chance meeting with Irene, partly because she'd been nervous about what Irene could find out and partly because she was a little bit enraptured by the woman. What she found had both reassured her and deepened her interest. Irene has to be very good at her job to get so popular so quickly, and she has to be good with people; when Steph went to the Vault to do a little digging, she found very little animosity towards someone who is, essentially, a newbie. She'd even managed to find out that Irene has a few high profile clients in the government, although she couldn't get any names, but still, that alone is enough to make this little trip worth it. Irene, if she's willing to help them, could be a very powerful and influential ally.

Which leads Steph to Irene's dressing room. It took a fair bit of effort to sneak her way in, but that's part of what made it fun. She's been careful, making sure of Irene's schedule so she doesn't come back in with a client -- that would be awkward. So, Steph gets into the room ten minutes before Irene is due to finish a rather strenuous performance - one that she usually takes a break after - and waits, leaning back against the far wall, dressed in black and purple. Ten minutes is going to feel like an eternity.

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Irene- fair credit to Steph- isn’t expecting to see her there at all. (She’s going to have a word with security- another day). She comes in wearing her stage clothes, all lace and leather and a few black feathers because the Vault, thank God, loves a bit of theatricality. She’s just peeling off a leather glove as she enters, heels clicking away on the floor, sweat shining on bare skin and there is a lot of bare skin, and yet more hinted at--

--and she stops dead, expression not changing as she meets Stephanie’s eyes save for her eyebrows raising.

“Stephanie Brown,” she says, as soon as she’s found her tongue, determined to stay in charge of the situation, reaching behind her to shut the door with a very definite click. “Heavens. I was wondering when I was going to get to talk to you…masks off, as it were.”

To emphasise masks off she drags her glove off properly, putting the discarded accessories down.

Honestly- she’s impressed. Angry, wrong-footed, because this is her space and her territory and being surprised on it feels like an invasion of the worst kind, and yet- impressed.

And she knows her name. She’s done her research. She takes comfort in that, at least.

Steph's eyebrows go up as well, but it's the only change in her relaxed demeanour.

"You saw me on the network," it's not a question; she's been careful about everything else, she made sure that Irene didn't follow her home and that no one's been digging for information about her. But, well, they just went through a monster attack and things like making sure Irene Adler didn't see her broadcast slipped her mind.

She doesn't really regret it, Irene knowing her name isn't a big loss. The comment about masks could be a threat, but Steph thinks she's being figurative - there's no way Irene can know about Batgirl.

"It was going to be sooner, but you know, monsters and all that," she waves a hand in the air. This isn't quite her either, to be honest - it's another mask because Steph isn't naturally this closed off. But she decided that friendly and open wasn't going to work.

Edited (jfc my spelling) 2012-03-31 11:37 (UTC)

"That's part of it," Irene agrees cheerfully. And it's true, although she doesn't know much. Still, she knows that the woman she was hunting down is a Militia official...

"Don't worry, I quite understand. It was hectic, wasn't it?" she coos, light and personable, as if they're chatting at a party. She goes over to her dressing table, pouring herself a glass of water; 'strenuous' is the right word for the show she just did.

(Admittedly, perhaps the people on the other end of her whip are feeling a little more exhausted).

"Now, then." She gives her a brilliant smile. "About your hatred of the Militia..."

Well, it's a reasonable jump to make, isn't it?

Well, that's a little more worrying, and it shows in the way Steph's brow creases just slightly - she's always been expressive, despite attempts to develop a decent poker face. She reminds herself that Irene could just be bluffing, or that it could be something harmless. It's impressive how quickly Irene has composed herself; Steph knows she's made the right call about wanting her as an ally.

There's no response to the agreement about it being hectic, it isn't important, they have other things to talk about.

Like the militia, and that comment gets a definite response, Steph's mouth twisting in a frown. But she collects herself after a moment and shrugs, "I don't like bullies. Anyway, I'm more interested in how you feel about them." Might as well cut straight to the point.

Irene stares at her intently, the ghost of a smile on her face as she raises the glass to her lips and lets herself believe her own act. Don't think, just do.

She drinks deep, ignoring Steph for a few moments and then seeming to think it over- but she keeps that look on her face, I know something you don't. It doesn't matter whether it's true or not. What matters is making Steph think it is.

"Am I being recruited or threatened, dear?" she inquires, her voice wry and her eyebrows up. There's a slight lipstick stain left on the side of the glass; her crimson fingernails drum once against it.

It's hard not to fidget, not to move and do something, but she forces herself still as Irene drinks, forces herself not to check the exist - she already has, it's unecessary to do it again.

"Recruited," an honest answer, and there's a bit more genuine Steph coming out now, obvious in how she sounds like she means this, like it's important to her, "I want to stop them from being able to hurt people, and I think you can help me."

She doesn't say 'we'; it's too early to let Irene now that there's a whole group of them.

Edited 2012-03-31 23:27 (UTC)

Oh, hello. A true believer.

Irene watches her and then turns her attention to her glass, taking a long time to answer again, but this time it seems more like she's thinking difficult things over.

She's not. This is ideal. This is a goldmine.

"I don't enjoy living in a police state, if that's what you're getting at- but I don't imagine anybody does, really." Convince me. She glances over, and lets her voice go flat and business-like, far away from the flirty, sensual drawl she most often employs. "What do you want from me?"

This is not the ideal response from Irene, in Steph's opinion, but it's not as if she expected her to secretly be a bleeding heart waiting to help. This is workable, though, and Steph relaxes a bit.

"I can go out and take down all the militia agents I want, but it won't change anything; they'll just recruit new members, make more weapons and come back just as strong," Surprisingly, this isn't a rehearsed spiel, Steph hadn't wanted to come planned with something because it makes it harder to think on the fly, and that's what she's best at, "Things need to change in the city, at every level. I have a feeling you know some people right at the top, who might be willing to listen to what you have to say."

That's not all of what she's come here for, but Steph wants to see what response she gets to just this, before asking anything more of Irene. She realizes what she's asking could be dangerous, but something tells her that won't be something that discourages Irene.

Edited 2012-04-01 00:16 (UTC)

"Oh, darling." She puts down her glass and perches on her dressing table, sliding off her boots and starting to unfasten her suspenders and roll down her stockings. Steph gets a sudden, slightly wolfish grin, her eyes flickering up to them. "Who do you think I am, Miss Brown? Madame de Pompadour?"

Without waiting for a response, she continues, "They aren't in love with me. Most of them resent needing me. Poor, closeted things. They won't listen to my suggestions and I wouldn't risk suggesting them."

But--

There's something in her voice that makes it obvious that there is a but somewhere. This is just bait; she's wondering whether Steph will leap for it.

She can help. And she will.

She'll just...help herself first. And good grief, she didn't get this far by throwing herself in with angry young women who have strong feelings about politics, charming as the idea is.

(A small part of her, absurdly, wants to help help, wants to have strong feelings about things and rail against choking authority but- she rarely listens to that part. It's stupid. You can't overturn authority; you can only slip through its cracks.)

Okay, so, definitely not ideal. Steph also has to take a second to remind herself to look at Irene's face; she's not going to be distracted or put off by a little undressing. She's seen Dick Grayson naked in the showers, she can deal with Irene Adler.

It's what Irene says that's the real problem and Steph wonders if Jason Or Babs would have be better at this. She feels out of her depth; last time she tried to help on such a large scale she started a gang war and she'd prefer not to repeat of those few weeks. That's not the point, though, and she goes over what Irene just said, and picks up on what wasn't said.

"But?" Maybe she's being baited, maybe Irene genuinely does want to help. It's hard to tell, but Steph's here and she's gotten this far and she'll at least find out what Irene has to say before giving up.

"I might be able to...plant the seeds of an idea. Play them off against each other. Play gently. Nothing so obvious as suggesting."

Stockings off, Irene hops off her dressing table and pads over to a whole rack of outfits, her back to Steph, starting on the fastenings of her leather- bustier? Harness? Collection of interestingly places strips of leather? It really is difficult to say.

She casts her next words over her shoulder.

"You know, I hate it. This place. Them." Oh, that's fun- she hasn't been impassioned in a while, and it's true or it's based in truth; that sudden sharp edge of anger in her voice has been waiting to come to the fore. The fastening comes undone with a quick, violent movement. "Which is precisely why I'm not going to provoke them unless it's going to actually do anything. So. Do you have a plan, Miss Brown? Specifics, I mean."

"Oh," That definitely wasn't supposed to be outloud, but it's a pleased oh because this works with what Steph had in mind, it's just smarter. Which shouldn't surprise her, Irene actually knows what she's doing, where Steph's as subtle as a brick to the face (literally). She also realizes she should say more, "That sounds perfect."

Her constructed coolness is almost completely gone now, replaced by genuine reactions. This probably works better for her, all things given, and while Irene's anger doesn't really make her happy, it cheers her up in it's own way. The question about a plan makes her pause, considering what to tell Irene and working out, well, whether they do actually have a plan.

"I want to get the rest of the people here to realize that the militia can be brought down, which involves getting them angry, and weakening the militia enough that it is possible. But - no, there's no specifics yet." The truth is being stretched a little, Steph's still not ready to let Irene in on the group act.

Edited 2012-04-01 01:30 (UTC)

"No specifics." The bustier comes off; Irene drops it to the floor and runs her hand over the rack of clothes in front of her, her other hand on her hip.

The Militia can be brought down. She feels the tug of desire to believe...and is reminded of a conversation a while ago in a bar, where she turned down the hypothetical prospect of safety because it sounded too good to be true.

This is what this is, she realises.

You can sell a fantasy. Irene does it every day. And maybe you can keep it up for long enough to let it become real, or real enough.

"I have a friend, Miss Brown- actually, the same man I mentioned to you before, my detective friend- 'data, data, data' was what he used to say. I can't work on no specifics."

She half-turns, looking over her shoulder to meet Steph's gaze.

"Give me what I need to work, make a plan, and I'll do what I'm good at, how's that? You need friends in high places and I have them, but what I do is far too delicate and far too dangerous for me to work on hints. So. I can plant ideas and let them grow, I can nudge people in the right direction, I can sell a fantasy like no one's business, I can even put you in contact with some ever so useful people in the right areas of Hellsing and so on, but throw my lot in with no specifics? No thank you, darling. I won't. I can't. And neither will any of my friends."

Steph holds Irene's gaze without wavering, listening carefully and giving a determined - and understanding - nod when Irene's finished. She understands that Irene can't help them without having specifics, and Steph wasn't expecting her to. She quietly notes the mention of Hellsing, wondering exactly who Irene is talking about, but that's not important right now.

"I'm not asking you to," She answers after a moment of silence, "I wanted to know what I had to work with before I started formulating a plan, but there will be one and you'll know what it is." Or at least, as much Steph thinks she can trust Irene with. Speaking of which...

"I'd like to hope that this is going to work perfectly and the good guys will win, but I'm not stupid and neither are you. You have to know there's a chance we'll be caught," there's an unspoken ending there; what will you do if we are. Steph knows the answer for herself - they won't get anything out of her unless they cheat with magic - but she doesn't know how Irene will react.

Edited (constantly with the typos) 2012-04-02 13:58 (UTC)

Irene knows what she's being asked. Will you betray us?

Yes, in a heartbeat, but--

She stares at Steph, looks away, lets a slightly bitter smile cross her face, lets years and years of acting take their toll and lets herself look a little older, sharper, harsher. There's something people find attractive about strong people revealing their vulnerabilities, she's noticed; so sometimes, capitalising on and occasionally inventing said vulnerabilities is an excellent idea.

"There's always a chance," she muses quietly, picking up a sheer lace blouse and tugging it on, but not buttoning it.

She turns and recites, as if it were a poem, "Karachi. An MI5 facility in the middle of the Devon countryside of all places. A warehouse somewhere, I've never known where, but I think probably South America-"

With a slightly pained, sharp smile, she ties together this list of apparently arbitrary place names, some of them true and some of them not, with; "If the Militia can get something real out of me with torture by now, after everyone else who's tried, I'm going to be very impressed. Consider it a matter of pride, if you don't trust my principles; I don't like men who come after me with guns- and I don't give into them."

There's a retort on the tip of her tongue - you don't look like you've been tortured - but Steph knows it's mostly her own bitterness talking. There are more kinds of torture than ones that leaves scars; she knows, Black Mask threatened them. It still leaves her a little wary, though, and she wonders how much of what Irene says is true. It takes a concentrated effort to smooth out her expression from the pained scowl that was threatening.

But she thinks she can at least believe the comment about pride, "Good to know. I can't make any promises about protecting you, but I'll do everything I can, and you won't be left alone, no matter what happens."

Even if Irene betrays them, Steph won't leave her to the hands of the militia.

She has been, though only once- Karachi- and not in a way that left any physical scars. The other instances cited were...aggressive interrogation. There's a grain of truth in all her lies.

But 'you won't be alone, no matter what happens'- it's not something that people often say to her, and she responds to the opportunity to humanise herself with a moment of surprise, a beat where she doesn't know how to respond or looks like she doesn't know how to respond or both.

"Thank you," she says, and then raises her eyebrows, starting to button her blouse up to her neck, fiddling with her cuffs. As if to balance out, she adds wryly; "How heroic. Now. I have a job to do. And, of course, so do you. By the way, how did you get in?"

It's that moment of surprise that gets to Steph, because she wonders if shes one of the first people to tell Irene that, and remembers what it's like to think that no one would come for you. But she knows better than to let that show on her face.

Irene makes that easy by balancing out the thanks, Steph doesn't quite roll her eyes at the added how heroic, but it looks like she wants to, "You're welcome."

She can't help the small grin at the question, "I'm sure I've heard something about a magician not telling their secrets. But every room has more than one entrance, and your security isn't as good as they think they are."

Edited 2012-04-02 22:36 (UTC)

Irene, though, works hard at making sure there are people who would come for her if necessary- or who would come for the persona she presents, at least. She gives Steph a smile that's almost conspiratorial- well, they are conspiring, aren't they?

"I'll have a word with them," she says sweetly. "Why, you could have killed me by now." And she picks up her CiD to check the time, glancing thoughtfully at her and finally saying, "You know not to use the Network indiscreetly. When you have them, give me the details in person- you could probably find my address and I could find yours, but I prefer neutral ground for things like this. I trust you to know where's friendly to the Militia and where's not. When the time comes, a place and time will do- but for God's sake, don't dawdle."

This barrage of directives issued, she holds out a hand, and with an almost coy expression, says, "Consider me your loyal- resource, Miss Brown."

But not an ally and not a friend.

Steph could get used to being on the recieving end of that smile, which is why she realizes how dangerous and useful Irene is.

There's no need to comment on most of what Irene says, it's true and Steph doesn't feel it's necessary to expand on it, "I won't." About dadling, which is what she decides is the most important thing to say.

Steph shakes the offered hand, grip firm, "Thank you for your time," Not for your help, she'll thank Irene for that when it happens.

With that, she assumes their - business is done and she heads for the door.

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I had a feeling when I met you, didn't think you had it in you

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