entrancelogs | but you know what they say about me

Entry tags:

but you know what they say about me

Who: Meg & various (closed)
Where: Throughout the town
When: The 21st-23rd.
Rating: R for language I'm sure
Summary: Meg is a general pest
The Story:

As usual, she's on the prowl.

It doesn't matter if it's in her own apartment building, or an alleyway a few blocks down. Meg is a silent witness to many things - or she would be if she knew how to keep her mouth shut.

Silence was lame, anyway.

There is this instinctual need to know what's going on at all times. Her fingers are also a little sticky, swiping a prized possession here or a few bills from someone's wallet when they bump into her on the street.

This doesn't mean she's particularly good at what she does. Luck is her very best friend, so close she's able to manipulate it just the slightest. Make someone fumble with their keys if she's inside their house snooping around, or make that light drizzle a complete downpour when she needs a quick getaway.

This is probably more of an annoyance to others than something to fear, but it keeps her alive. That's all that matters in her mind.

And so, she can be seen around town. Throwing out comments and, in general, being a pest that just can't be squashed.

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It was a slow night. She's hopped from subway to crowded bar to street corners and back again, trying to keep herself busy until ten, when she's supposed to be making a drop off. Her haul is shitty, but that isn't what has gotten under her skin tonight.

Briefly, she's caught sight of Jo, that blonde hair hard to miss along with that self righteous aura she just seems to exude. It annoys Meg, in a way that no others can annoy her.

So, she makes a game out of it. She's pretty sure Jo is following her, trying to catch her red handed in a way nobody else has (or will), and when she manages to get behind Jo it's all she can do to contain herself.

Now anyone else would probably leave at this point, but instead she becomes the hunter. She can't tell if Jo knows Meg is behind her, or if she's just looking for her since she lost sight of the thief, but they both end up in a dark, damp alleyway. Perfect for them to have some kind of showdown.

"Been seeing lots of you today, Barbie." She keeps it casual, hands hooked in her back pockets as she strolls forward to step into the light better. A few days ago, she'd gotten a job, a big one. One that ended with her having a run-in with that asshole ninja guy, so she'd been a little frazzled. She's supposed to drop off the contents of a safety deposit box in some random location, but she can't do that if she's got Little Miss Do-Right on her ass. "You crushin' on me, or is today just extra special?"

It wasn't at all unusual for Jo and Meg to cross paths -- in fact, they seemed to do it with a frequency that was rather frustrating when all was said and done, but Jo had always been unable to let the opportunity to try and slap the cuffs on Meg while catching red-handed slip away. The cops in this city were good, but not good enough. There were some criminal that were just beyond their reach.

They were bound by rules and protocol. She wasn't. She followed a code, one that had a hell of a lot less to do with red tape.

She drops a hand to her hip as she turns to face Meg -- somehow, she'd managed to get the drop on her. Damn it. She'd be disappointed, but Meg is a woman who loves the sound of her own voice. Jo won't be the least bit surprised if she can get her monologuing.

"I thought it was about time we catch up." Jo smiles thinly, mirthless, tense as she prepares herself for the inevitable fight that's to come. "You've missed me, haven't you? Been awhile."

"You know me, not a day goes by that I don't think of your pretty face." Her smile is pure saccharine. She does think of Jo's face, but it's usually not so pretty once she's finished with it in those little daydreams of hers.

While she appears relaxed, really she's on high alert. She can't afford to get into a tussle with Jo, not when she's got something hot on her that needs to be dropped off ASAP. There are worst things out there than her blonde nemesis, but she can't just skip off without making sure Jo is busy doing something else.

"Let me guess, boyfriend troubles? Looking for a little girl on girl action?" It's deliberate, the long look she gives Jo. She learned a long time ago a good way to throw someone off is to make them feel as uncomfortable as possible. "I don't mind, but my standards are a little high."

"Oh, I'm sure that's true." After all, not a day goes by that Jo doesn't think of the exact same thing -- Meg's face and what it might look like if Jo ever managed to pin her down and take her out of the game for good.

"Sorry, I'll have to disappoint. Don't think I can give you the kind of action you're looking for. I'm all business today, Meg." She grimaces, drawing up to her full height and curling the fingers of her right hand into a tight fist. "So I guess the question is, how much are they paying you for what you've got? Is it worth the beating you're about to get?"

"Too bad, you know how I love it when you get all serious at me." The words are easily tossed out, bait for a trap she knows Jo won't fall in to. It's a force of habit at this point, automatic. "You're asking all the wrong questions today, Barbie."

Meg puts on a show of looking as nonchalant as possible, hip cocked out to one side and most of her weight on her back leg. In this position, it would be really difficult to switch modes and run away, but she's got a whole lot of confidence in her abilities. "How about you go think on it a little more and come find me."

So much of their back-and-forth comes as second nature now. They've been doing this dance for what seems like forever. They both know what bait the other one will take, and what they won't. They know which weak spots to aim for. Yet unlike many relationships, predictability hasn't taken the spark out of theirs quite yet -- small blessings.

"You know, I'd love to, but I'm afraid the rest of my night is full-up." She lifts her chin slightly, haughty, setting her jaw and preparing herself to attack. With most other criminals, she would play defense, let them make the first move -- but not Meg. She knows how Meg works.

"Which means we're doing this now." That said, she launches forward, aiming to throw a hard left hook against Meg's jaw. Maybe a bit aggressive for a superhero, but she's learned to blur the line where Meg is concerned.

There's a part of Meg that gets a sick sense of satisfaction with their run ins. The familiarity of it is nice, comforting. A part of her weekly routine - if there's no sight of Jo in a few days, then Meg starts to search her out. Just doesn't seem right to neglect her favorite enemy.

Jo lands the hit, knocking Meg back a few steps. It doesn't keep her down, though. She uses that momentum to duck down and slam an arm into Jo's stomach, not trying to get her on the ground but trying to get her back a little so Meg has room to move.

"Hrk--" Jo grunts as Meg's arm connects and she staggers backwards, managing to keep her balance and remain upright with some effort. Privately, she feels much the same way Meg does. Too many days without an encounter and something begins to feel a little hollow. Empty. Guess the hero-nemesis relationship was more symbiotic than she liked to give it credit for.

She regains herself, carefully gauging the distance between them before barreling forward, aiming to slam into Meg shoulder-first. If she can get her winded, she'll be in good shape -- thankfully, super-strength isn't something that can be shaken off so easily.

It's not the most comfortable feeling, a shoulder hitting her right in the diaphragm. Meg lets out a gasp as the air leaves her lungs violently, staggering a little before the backs of her legs hit a few boxes.

Dammit. She's going to have to improvise a little better here. Taking a quick step to the side, her eyes make a quick scan of the area before she reaches out, grabbing what looks like a tire iron.

Why it's there, nobody knows. Must be that luck of hers.

Hefting it up, she grips it in one hand, her eyes locked on Jo and a sharp smile on her face. She's waiting for the blonde to make her next move, and she's ready to go out swinging, so to speak.

Crap. Super strength or no super strength, a tire iron is going to hurt if she lets that thing connect. Jo freezes in place for a moment, curling her fingers into tight fists as she calculates her next move. With weapons involved, this suddenly gained the potential to get really messy.

"You don't think that's enough to scare me off, do you?"

Despite being wary, she's going to do her damndest not to let it show. She darts forward to strike again, tense and prepared to duck or dodge or do whatever's necessary to avoid taking a tire iron to the head. Maybe if she can grab it, she can render it useless by making a damn pretzel out of it.

"If it was, I would be so disappointed in you, Barbie." She twirls the tire iron in a lazy manner, watching Jo. She knows getting a weapon wouldn't be enough to deter this particular heroine, but anything that will give her an advantage works.

When Jo comes at her, Meg's barely able to spin out of the way, the iron gripped tight and swinging wide. She doesn't have a specific spot she's targeting, but if she can get in a hit it'll be satisfying.

Jo turns quickly enough that she manages to avoid letting the tire iron connect with her face, but gets the full brunt of it in her side instead, letting out a low grunt as it forces her to stumble forward. She's had worse, a lot worse, but the momentum behind Meg's swing definitely made her feel it.

She counters by dropping low and attempting to deliver a sharp uppercut, eyes angry, gaze unflinching.

"Drop the goods and this can be over real quick."

The punch lands square on its target, and Meg is knocked back far, actually slamming into the wall behind her. Not the most pleasant experience. She lets out a little cough, spitting out some blood so she can focus back on her target.

She may not be completely invulnerable, but adrenaline (and spite) gives her some get up and go. She needs to get out, quick, because she has an appointment to keep and while tussling with Jo is always fun, right now she's got things to do.

"How about no?" And after she says this she hefts up the tire iron, and flings it in Jo's direction. Almost like some kind of deadly iron boomerang, except it won't come back to her, thank God.

Jo reaches to catch the tire iron as it's flung at her, but it's not without effort, and she has to stumble backwards to grab it in time and keep it from connecting squarely with her head. Crap, that was a close one -- closer than she'd like to admit. Still, it's enough to give Meg just enough time to get a leg up.

Frustrated, Jo bends the tire iron in half and throws it to the ground behind her, rendering it useless and kicking it out of reach, glaring harshly at her nemesis, irate.

"Cute. Real cute."

Meg's definitely taking advantage of the pause in fighting, scrambling to get to a spot where it's easy to duck out into the crowd.

There are people on the sidewalk behind her, going about their business and not paying any mind to the two (incredibly violent) ladies having it out in the alleyway. With her back to an opening to leave, she feels more at ease. Meg doesn't like being cornered, and Jo has a habit of doing that very well.

"Cute enough to earn a kiss?" She quips as she gives Jo a slightly victorious smile. Meg would love nothing more than bicker and fight with the woman all damn day, too bad she has an appointment.

One that she's starting to be late for. And being late to meet those guys? It'll end up with her missing some body parts, she's sure. Meg's a little too fond of those parts to let them go so easily.

"Admit it, Blondie, you're crushing on me something fierce. Wanna set a date, pick up where we left off?" She takes a step back, trying to keep it smooth and not like she's running away at all.

Meg's about to make a break for it. It's not hard to read the signs, but if Jo were to chase after her now, it would mean a knock-down drag-out fight out on the street surrounded by pedestrians. Someone could get seriously hurt if they're not careful, and she doesn't trust Meg to be mindful of that kind of thing. The only person she wants to see hurt is Meg.

But just letting her make a clean getaway... no. Not likely. It might not do much to slow her down, but Jo barrels towards to try and get in one last hit before Meg can dash. If she jets anyway, she'll have no choice but to pursue, but it won't be easy -- Meg doesn't care about bystanders and will run through the crowds, but Jo will have to take the higher road and avoid making contact with civilians if she wants to do this right, and you either do it right, or you don't do it at all.

"No kiss. Raincheck?" Jo asks dryly, eyes narrowed as she takes a swing. Still, Meg is close to the exit of the alley -- the chances of Jo keeping her here for much longer are slim.

Damn it.

Being the arch nemesis to a do gooder type like Jo means Meg has special insight to how the blonde works. Namely, that getting herself lost in a crowd is a good way to get out of any hairy situations.

The hit connects, knocking Meg to the ground and sliding back a few feet. All she has to do is turn around real quick, sprint into the crowd. She can't just go without saying good bye, though.

"Just as good as a kiss," she reaches up, hand working at her jaw a little before she gives Jo a smile. There's some blood in her mouth, where she'd bitten her cheek from the hit, but she doesn't bother to wipe it away. "Maybe next time it can get a little dirty, we can put on a good show. Your boyfriend might be interested."

And before Jo has a chance to retaliate, Meg wiggles her fingers in farewell and ducks out into the sea of people, taking advantage of her special set of skills (and her luck) to make sure she avoids being caught.

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but you know what they say about me

Jo

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