(Untitled)

[respectthegun]

In costume, Deadshot comes through the door into the main bar, ripping his mask back off his face as he does so and muttering something about Lex Luthor.

He stays by the door for long enough to find and light a cigarette, before scanning the place for somewhere to sit.

Nowhere near anyone without hair.

Comments

[evil_koala_626]

Nope, no bald millionare supervillians here. How about an alien instead? An alien with a bra on its head. An alien with a bra on its head currently seated in a wagon travelling toward the door at high speed.

"TUKIBOWABA!"

[respectthegun]

"Fucking Hell!"

Lawton makes a goalkeeper dive out of the way as the thing hurls towards him - just missing having his ankles collided into by less than an inch.

It's a skillful dive, and he recovers well, but it makes him drop his cigarette, which means he comes up angry and aiming.

"What the fuck?"

[evil_koala_626]

Stitch would probably object to guns being pointed in his direction. If he were currently aware of anything other than the wagon's trajectory.

"EeeeeAAAAaaaAA- Thud! Bumpity-bumpity-bumpity SPLAT!!

That would be the sound of one small passenger making a last minute bailout before his face is forceably introduced to the wall.

WHAM!

Aaaand that would be the sound of a much abused vehicle earning itself another badge of courage. It's seen worse! Really!

Stitch peels himself off the floor with a a groan, shakes his head vigorously, and lets out a delighted cackle.

[respectthegun]

"What the everloving fuck?" Lawton repeats.

"Can't you repsect a man's smoke?"

The cigarette is still at his feet, no longer lit. He's too nagry to look for it.

[notaphony]

Joan, meanwhile, is nursing both a drink and a smoke at the bar and trying not to think about idiot secretaries.

Her hair, coincidentally, is probably the most distinguishing part of her.

[respectthegun]

Alright, Lawton's had a few drags on his cigarette, he's probably up for human company. And there are worse options than hot redhead.

So when he comes up to the bar and orders "Beer. Something draft", he does so within conversational distance of her.

He doesn't start the conversation, of course. That would imply he cared.

[notaphony]

And, admittedly, it would seem Joan's amenable to conversation with someone who possesses at least half a brain.

"Nothing specific?" she asks, in reference to his drink order. "Leaving it open to Bar could be dangerous."

She's teasing, of course, and smirks as she takes a drag of her cigarette.

[respectthegun]

Lawton gives a shrug, the beer arrives and he takes a drink from it, before turning what he presumably thinks is a charming smile towards her.

"Never tried to poison me yet."