undergrounds

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march

1) Laywer By Day (at his office, whenever)

[ No case is too small (no really) for Matt Murdock, Attorney at Law. His tiny private firm handles everything from civil cases like fraud to, well, murder. Really whatever you need. If your landlord didn't tell you your nice new flat was haunted, or you need to sue your boss for harassment, he's your guy. His office is small, and possibly as normal as could be. He doesn't quite specialize in 'normalizing' supernatural cases, but he's got some experience with it. But even minor inquiries are fine-- the door (and temporary sign) is always open for new clients. Maybe one of those new clients is you! ]

Hi. How can I help you?

2) Officially-Sanctioned Vigilante By Night (Redbright Outreach Group)

[ Matt's fairly new at this Outreach thing. Just the fact that people know he's a metahuman is still a bit bizarre if you ask him. But the work is good, and most people don't ask questions (like why is he wearing sunglasses at night, he's not that cool,) and the thugs have been either a) vanquished, or b) dealt with pretty swiftly. Overall, it's a good night. Things are winding down back at HQ, so to speak, when they make it back to Redbright.

He's still getting used to this whole "working with a team" thing, and while he can't say he's a huge fan of the idea, it's maybe not as bad as he expected. Maybe. At least they have a pretty sweet benefits deal, like letting him save lives and keeping people safe.

Except now the night's over and the rounds are done. Maybe you're grabbing him on his way out or at the lockers, maybe the dark sunglasses at night suddenly make sense as he unfolds his white cane. Either way, Matt's done for the night and heading home. Perfect time to chat, right? ]

3) When Does Matt Even Sleep? (In a bar)

[ On nights when Matt doesn't go out and break faces, he's actually pretty chill. Long nights burning the midnight oil can take their toll on a guy. (Might not get eye strain but you can only read so much braille before your fingers start to go numb.) Matt's not so studious that he doesn't know how to take it easy, and often times that means hitting the pub when he needs to unwind. Attractive guy like him tends to draw a few stares at the bar, but it's not like he can see them. (His senses tell him all he need, the state of inebriation of the other patrons, the smell of alcohol in his glass-- he'd know if someone tried to slip him a cheaper drink, but they don't do that to him here. Anymore.) He kinda just likes the atmosphere... and largely, the drinks. Definitely the drinks.

His secretary goes home after a couple; she offers him a ride home, but he declines. He's got time to kill if he's taking the night off. It's not even his bed time. ]

3.b) Bar Crawl, St. Paddy's Day Edition

[ Matt is not nearly as embarrassing as he could be on Saint Patrick's, but his dad always used to celebrate it which of course means Matt does too. By drinking liberally. So for a special drunk-flavored Matt, here's your prompt. How many pints of beer has Matt had at this point? Probably not enough to get him pissed, but he's up there. ~~A ninja is never drunk. No way.~~ ]

Here, lemme-- can I buy you a drink?

4) It's Sunday, do you know where your Catholic is?

[ Sunday morning, of course Matt is at church, present as ever while the rest of the parishioners go through the motions. He sits like he means to be invisible: silently listening in the back pew, hands held together in prayer throughout mass. When the service is done, the priest greets him by name. He's a regular, though he doesn't always make time for the whole thing.

He doesn't stick around for long after. Places to be, people to meet. But church is a safe place. He's at peace here. Maybe he'll actually talk, for once. What better way to know a man than through his relationship with God? ]

5) Wildcard!

[ if you have any ideas/want to plot anything else, totally ping me at

cantito ]

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[Maybe it's a little strange that a large, white dog appeared in the midst of the rest of the Outreach group in the middle of the night. Maybe it's even weirder that several in the group just sort of accepted its presence there, unquestioningly, and that it seemed to follow directions a little bit more exactly than even the most well-trained of canines.

Maybe it's weirdest that once they got back to Redbright the dog disappeared to be replaced by a young man in a bathrobe, rummaging through a pile of clothes his glasses (which are the regular kind and are, therefore, significantly less cool than Matt's).

Simon looks up sharply when Mr. Sunglasses comes into the locker room, clutching his robe even tighter. He's never exactly been comfortable with the public nudity aspect of his powers.]

Shit. Uh. Well done tonight...?

[is that what colleagues say to each other after committing acts of vigilante violence in the wee hours of the morning?]

[ The transformation had certainly startled him, but the smell for Simon's other form matches his current one pretty well (you know, minus the fur and all) so while it might not make any sense to Matt, he knows enough to figure he's a shapeshifter of some kind.

Which is, you know, pretty cool. ]

You too.

[ Matt keeps his gaze aimed forward, changing out of his dark clothes and into a much less conspicuous dress shirt. All without ever looking down at what he's doing. Don't worry, Simon, your virtue is safe from Matt. ]

That, uh... that thing you do. Seems pretty useful. What's it like?

[ Talking shop is totally the thing to do, right? ]

[Success! Glasses acquired. Simon has no idea how they ended up inside his sock, but that's probably his sleep-deprived brain failing utterly at making logical choices. He misses his contacts, honestly, but products shaped for human eyeballs become intensely painful on canine ones and he never, ever wishes to repeat that little experiment.

He turns his back to Matt, still feeling very self-conscious.]

It doesn't hurt, if that's what you're asking. I don't think I'll ever get used to it, but it doesn't hurt.

[ They make glasses for dogs, Simon. I bet they'd work wonders on making everyone swoon. Matt notices Simon's embarrassment, and like the jerk he is, says nothing to the subject. He just keeps buttoning up his shirt, still facing his locker. ]

That's good. It sounds... well, it sounded like it did, so that's good.

[ It sounded pretty damn terrifying so Matt can't really imagine. But as to how it looks, you'd have to ask someone else. ]

Is it something you could always do?

Edited (adds a bit) 2016-03-29 01:19 (UTC)

[Simon starts pulling on his shoes, still facing away from Matt--who's facing away from him. Very sociable, these two.]

I was born able to do it, yeah, but I didn't start being able to change until I was about fourteen. Scared the shit out of me the first few times. I'm adopted. Most shapeshifters grow up with their families teaching them about the change; I didn't exactly have that going for me. I thought I was some sort of freak until I ended up here.

[And found out that everything that goes bump in the night is actually real. Delightful.]

Were you born, uh, with your ability? [He laughs.] Or are you just a ninja who happens to enjoy running around London at night with a shapeshifters, werewolves, and the like?

[There's a few clues for Matt before Natasha speaks up. The sound of a woman in heeled boots. Smell of perfume, something expensive and smelling of crisp roses and warm clove to help cover the lingering smells of animal blood that clings to her. Her body isn't cold, but cooler than the others.

It's Natasha's first night going out. It's—well, it's different for her. Not because she hasn't worked with other people before. She even works well with them. She's a vampire. Vampires are social by nature. More importantly, before that she was KGB and they had to work well in a team. She'd been a woman working in the KGB in the late 50s and early 60s. There hadn't been a lot of room not to play well with others.

She actually has a hard time putting her finger on what makes it so strange. Something about the tone. Something about the way the people here interact. She held back during they're time out, observing.

It might just be because she feels like she doesn't belong here. Like she's faking it.

But if she's faking it, she might as well fake it well. When she happens to run into one of the "team" as she passes by the men's locker room, she pauses for a brief moment, then she says:]

Hey. Matthew, right? I overheard earlier.

Matt, actually.

[ Matt's changed out of his gear and is back to looking his usual, mostly unassuming self. Besides the expensive suit, anyway. He'd raised some eyebrows once he smelled a vampire in their ranks, but Natasha worked efficiently and never gave him reason to doubt her. She was guarded, that much is obvious, but they've all got secrets. Least he can do is learn more about the people who are supposed to have his back. (Not that he needs it!!) ]

Natasha, right? [ It's odd not having to hide his powers, but her scent is distinct. He doesn't need to see to know she's attractive. ~~Matt, no.~~ ] How're you liking the "team"?

[ Matt sure isn't used to it. ]

Matt, then. [She says, as though she's pleased by the informality. As though either she wasn't aware that everyone else here calls him that, or she didn't expect him to afford her the same treatment.

If its a front, she does a good job of selling it.]

Natasha, yeah. [She's not even slightly surprised that he knew it was her. She's sure he knew who it was before she even spoke up. Just earlier that evening, she'd seen how he moved. Like he could see, but not. There was no question in her mind that he perceived at least as much as any other human and more than most.]

I'm not sure I can say one way or the other about liking it yet. Still seems a little... unreal.

It's very different from what I'm used to—but different can be good?

Nice to meet you.

[ The truth is 'Matthew' makes him think of his priest. And Redbright is pretty damn far from that, needless to say. ]

I know what you mean. [ He smiles, mostly for her benefit but even a bit for himself. He's never been part of anything where he could be just himself. ] Different is usually good, yeah. There's certainly no going back now that we're here.

[ Though he's just guessing here-- it's more "I" than "we." ]

I know what you mean. [She says it, not exactly in agreement, but she does get it in some respect. She's not sure she sees herself staying here that long—but she has a lot more time to consider, provided she managed to stay alive to see it.

The conflict in her tone would be easy to miss, just a little catch, a little waver that even most vampires wouldn't notice.]

That's always how it is though, isn't it? Not going back. Most of the time the only choice is to keep going forward.

If I'd liked where I was, I would have stayed there.

So far, I'd say it's

[Faolan hasn't really been paying all that much attention to his surroundings. Certainly not to the people around him -- in fact he's rather been trying to ignore them as best he can, in favor of getting himself as drunk as he can so that it will make them easier to ignore or maybe he'll just reach a point where he'll stop caring.

He hasn't quite reached that point yet, but he's getting close. Saint Patrick's Day really isn't his favorite holiday, as an Irishman. As an Irishman with no living family, hardly any friends, and a chip on his shoulder the size of... Well. It's pretty big to say the least. Pairing it off with the fact that he's the Head of the Hillingdon Clan, and secretly a Guardian of the Night Council -- yeah. He's definitely got a lot to be drinking about. In his mind anyway.

So he doesn't notice the other man at first, nor the glasses or the cane when he'd first come in. And he's mostly startled at being addressed at all, never mind being offered a drink. He glances behind himself, to look if there might be anyone more worthy of the offer, but he's the only one in this corner of the bar. Still, he feels he needs to clarify. (Hardly anyone usually takes a notice of him in a bar, short, moody, and forbidding as he is.)]

I, ah... D'you mean me? [There's a slightly lilting accent to his words -- Irish, definitely Irish.]

You bet.

[ Ah, Matt's never needed liquid courage to make poor decisions but it helps, especially with the shy foreboding types. You have to hand it to the blind guy, he's got guts (and an empty glass in his hand which he means to fix soon.) He obviously doesn't give Faolan a look or anything, but as far as sounds and smells go, the man was a bit of a stand out. Can you blame him? ]

I'm Matt. [ Matt flashes him a smile, aimed Faolan's way. No handshake, of course. His glasses obscure his eyes, but the grin is at least pretty genuine. Faolan has a nice voice, and voices are everything of you ask Matt (don't ask Matt.) ] What'll you have? It's on me.

[Faolan's not oblivious. He notices the dark glasses that the other man is wearing indoors, now, after the sun has set. And he also notices the way that the other man's focus doesn't quite seem to be on him, at least not the way that a seeing person's would be. It doesn't really bother him one way or the other. Though it's good to note.

He raises his eyebrows at the other man -- Matt, he supposes it is -- though he knows better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. Or to refuse a free drink, for that matter.] Faolan. [He introduces himself in return.] And I'll have another whiskey, if it's all the same to you.

[a ninja may never be drunk, but a baby lawyer-in-training who has been so good about not getting drunk at all is definitely #whitegirlwasted on this fair st. patrick's day. but even drunk as he is, he definitely still remembers the totally fine blind guy he ran into the other day (whoops) who is now offering to buy him a drink.]

Huh? I mean, I'm not going to turn down a drink.

Great.

[ It's probably a bad idea to buy drinks for a law student when you're a big shot lawyer—good thing Matt isn't a big shot lawyer. He could blame the alcohol but the fact is the familiar voice had pulled him Connor's way, and when you're drinking alone... well who doesn't like some familiar (arguably somewhat rude) company? ]

Connor, right? [ Now how did Matt know that?? ]

Yeah, that's right. [i mean, he recognizes matt from the other day. he cant remember giving him his name, but he's too drunk to care about whether or not he did. and wow he wasn't super rude - rude wouldve been not realizing he'd fucked up. he'd apologized and everything.

he slides into a seat next to him, scooting a little closer than he might otherwise.]

And, you're, um -- [fuck what was his name] You're really hot? Has anyone ever told you that before?

[ Matt laughs. Straight to the point, huh? ]

I might've heard it once or twice. [ Ah, ego. The first true sign of inebriation. Matt still has the decency to offer his hand. ]

It's Matt, actually. We exchanged names at the courthouse.

Right, yeah.

[aw, he likes this. that this guy knows, or doesn't know maybe, but at least is cool with people saying it.]

Cheers.

[yay free drinks.]

Lemme get your next one.

[Oliver is absolutely going to regret this when he has to be up for work tomorrow, but on the plus side he's not going to be the only one. He lost track of his colleagues a while back, but they're still out there somewhere. Probably.

He startles at the voice next to his shoulder, drunk enough he doesn't stop to think that, no, he's probably talking to someone else at the overly crowded bar before he opens his mouth.]

Me?

[ You would not believe how often people give him that response, drunk or not. He's sharing the spirit... so naturally, yes. ]

Yeah, you. [ Bad decisions happen when you're drunk, Matt. Nonetheless, he smiles at Oliver, raising his empty glass at him. ] What're you having?

Oh. [Truly, the most eloquent of responses.] Baileys?

Okay, sure.

[ Matt waves at the bar's... general direction. It's harder to sense people when you've had a few. ]

Baileys for my friend here. Another beer for me.

[ Matt likes the cheap stuff, it's a curse. ]

[One good things is that even if Matt doesn't seem to know exactly where the bar tender is they notice Matt quick enough. Which is a nice change. Oliver always seems to wait way longer when he's trying to get served.]

Wow. That was fast.

They have to be.

[ Matt would in no way brag about this if he weren't drunk. But he is, so he just laughs. ]

I could sue them for discrimination.

[ He's joking!! But it's also true. ]

Because you're blind?

[Oliver's obviously pretty drunk too. Normally he might've just asked 'why?', and now that's out of his mouth he really wishes that had been the case this time.]

Yep.

[ Hey man, it's cool. I mean, it's true, too. Matt's smile never falls, it's not like he's gonna get offended when he makes no move to hide it. ]

Also because I'm an attorney. So I could sue them personally.

Are you allowed to do that?

[For someone who hangs out with a law student so much he's not exactly clear on the details of what attorneys can and can't do.]

Sure.

[ Matt's never too drunk to talk law things. ]

I mean, technically I would be suing on behalf of the disabled community for not following proper regulations, but it wouldn't even reach the higher courts, so I could represent myself without needing a barrister or anything.

[ While passing through the halls of the Institute, it is more than likely Matt would pick up the distinctive sound of high heels clicking against the floor, the rhythm sharp. He might also pick up the scent of expensive perfume--

and both the sound and smell are rapidly approaching, in the form of a petite woman, carrying a stack of heavy books that rise over the top of her head. And yet, she somehow manages to stop right before running into him. ]

Excuse me, I didn't know someone else would be here this late. [ Didn't she, though? It isn't like the Outreach group is a secret... for someone who works at the Institute, especially. ]

[ Matt does indeed hear her coming on his way out. He picks up his cane and he pauses to regard her, tilting his head to listen to. She sounds honest, but there's definitely a note of confusion to the, well, fluidity of her movements, considering... well, it sounds like a lot of books. ]

Not at all. [ He steps aside, sounding somewhat amused. People usually make space for him, but he figures she can't see the cane. ] Do you need any help with those?

[ His guess is right -- from behind the stack, Gaby can only see a man with sunglasses (strange, but then, she wears her often indoors, too, so she can hardly judge). It is only when she steps past him that she sees the cane, puts together the pieces.

Oh. A blind man... and yet he didn't seem trouble knowing exactly where she was standing. ]

No. [ Blunt and straightforward: the Gaby Teller experience. ] I have carried them this far, I will make it to the office.

[ She doesn't want him to leave, though, not without learning more... and so she turns back to him, voice lighter. ] But if you want to open the door for me... [ Well, she won't object. ]

Certainly.

[ He smiles, staying close as he follows her. He taps ahead with his cane, mostly using the echo to 'see' around him. ]

That's quite a stack of books to be moving so late.

[It's not the first time someone's offered to buy Nancy a drink. Not the first time tonight, either, and when someone is offering you free alcohol, you accept it. Especially on St. Paddy's.]

Yeah, alright- whiskey'll be fine. [Make your jokes about the ginger drinking whiskey, go ahead, she dares you.] Thanks. Having a good night?

[ Ginger? I assure you, ma'am, Matt's blind. He'd (probably) never notice. He smiles easy at her request, tapping the bar to hopefully get the bartender's attention before ordering her another round. ]

It's a good one, yeah. Even better with company, of course.

Of course. [She angles herself towards him, really catching his glasses for the first time. Sunglasses like that in a bar tonight? He seemed like the decent sort, so therefore, she had to assume not the type to make like Corey Hart and wear their sunglasses at night to look 'cool'.

He was blind. Cool.]

And it's only getting started! I canceled all my plans for tomorrow morning because I know it'll be a bad one.

In for the long haul, huh?

[ He laughs. That's the spirit! I mean, why go out on St. Paddy's if you're not gonna get drunk? Being blind has nothing to do with it. Instead he raises his glass. ]

Best not to think about tomorrow. Tonight's not the night for that.

That's the plan!

[she raises her glass to clink with his.]

cheers to that- first of many I'm sure.

[Ringer almost walks past the little office while actively looking for it. She's heard some third hand stories of it floating around Hillingdon House and is taking a chance that maybe they're small enough that she can actually get the job she's looking for.

The girl opens the door, looking around the small space before her eyes come to rest on the man that greets her. She picks up the cues easily enough to recognize that he's blind, not offering her hand in greeting and instead walking forward to close some of the space between them. She's quiet in her movements, graceful, deliberate, and precise. Her expression is even and her tone dry.]

I want to learn some basic information about law and I heard your office was small. Will you hire me?

[ Matt surveys what he can off of her-- someone with purpose, then. And hey, points for not trying to shake his hand. ]

I could have a look at your references, but we're not exactly much of a learning environment. [ Her question strikes him. They're severely understaffed, he's basically the only lawyer in his office, so despite his tone, he's probably not going to say now. ] Are you a student?

[Her expression tightens a little as she glances around at the mostly barren office. Then her attention returns to him and her voice carries her determination.] At uni, yes. I learn easily- You wouldn't have to teach me. You'd only need to train me in your personal preferences.

[A beat.] I don't have references.

I never say no t' a free drink, luv.

[And she rarely buys hers.

She sounds young, and her tall, thin heels makes distinctive clicks as she shifts to take the barstool next to him without any further prompting.]

Shot of whiskey, neat.

[The Munster accent is thick, and she doesn't care about hiding it in the slightest.]

Smart woman.

[ Matt smiles easy, waving the bartender over. He can pinpoint the man's location of course, but he waits till he's within earshot and leans towards just in case. ]

I'll have two shots of whiskey, for the lady here, and myself.

[ Aw, Matt. So polite. He turns towards her, his glasses hiding unfocused eyes. ]

I'm Matt.

Edited 2016-04-03 20:06 (UTC)

'M Skip.

[After all, it's a free drink. Least she can do is give him her name. She grins, leaning against the bar without thinking. Without caring.]

Drinkin' alone?

For now.

[ He knocks his shot back. He doesn't respond to her gestures, of course. Even if he can sense them. ]

Not anymore, I'm hoping.

"Uh..."

Elizabeth looks behind her, behind the man, over at the faraway bartender--

"You mean me?"

Surely not her, she's just sitting here with her soda watching her totally human roommate get blitzed and proclaim herself 'Irish Today'. Elizabeth's the designated tube-guide for when she inevitably gets too wasted to know how to use her Oyster card.

Her gestures are largely lost on Matt, though he pauses enough to let her finish.

"You sound like you could use the break."

Matt had been hitting the alcohol quite a bit as well, but he knows when he's had too much and he's barely there, honest. Really. He looks past her and leans on his cane innocently, playing up his blindness just a bit. (Sure "just a bit.")

"It's on me. If you don't mind, of course?"

"No! No, that's very kind of you," she says, unable to help herself from eyeing the cane. Elizabeth is sharp, of course, she knows that having a cane and dark glasses are general indicators of blindness, though she supposes she hadn't expected a blind man to visit somewhere so noisy and full of chairs and other tripping-obstacles. No doubt it's rude to think that, but given she knows approximately zero blind people she reasons it might be a fair hypothesis.

"I'm just playing designated, uh, walker tonight, I suppose. So I'm trying to stay alert. But I guess one couldn't hurt, right...?"

"One can't hurt." He laughs, though far be it for him to derail her night. He's quite used to being everyone's first interaction with a blind person, so there's no hard feelings, trust me.

"Your friends are lucky to have you. Not many people would go for that job on St. Paddy's." Of course, it shows she's a responsible girl. Which is sweet, Matt won't judge. "So what'll you have?"

His laugh is a little infectious, and Elizabeth finds herself smiling back at him even though he obviously can't see her.

"You better believe it-- without me, they'd end up halfway to the Atlantic before dawn," she says, apparently confident in this assessment of the people she shares a flat with. "Oh, um, Merlot I guess. That's tame enough, isn't it?"

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march

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totes feel free to drop this

drops you like you're hot

u sayin I'm not hot punk???

that's exactly what i'm sayin

ruuuude!!! dang!!

it's okay, i still love you

:T!!!

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