genessia | 1st Case ☘ [Video / Action]

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1st Case ☘ [Video / Action]

[Content Warning: language, alcohol, drunkenness, trauma.]

[Video]

[A woman appears on the screen, hands planted on her hips and a 'you do not want to fuck with me' expression on an otherwise pretty face partially obscured by big black shades of self-destruction.]

First: Garrett, Woody, Dad, if you get this message, I'm fine. Trapped in some sweaty teenaged videodream, mad as hell, but fine. Get Nigel to run checks on Genessia, Genessia Scientific Research Foundation, Weiss Schnee, and Schnee Company.

[She rubs her eyes with thumb and forefinger without lifting her glasses, then lowers her hand and her jaw tightens.]

Second: Redding, if you're out there, I will find you. There's not a smokescreen big enough to hide you, you sonuvabitch. I know what you did.

Third: [She lifts her glasses and smiles. It's heartbreaking how hard that smile tries.] If you can point me toward tequila, I'll kiss you.

[Action]

Jordan enters a bar, sunglasses still on, and a Smith & Wesson Magnum in a pancake holster at her lower back. It's not for show, but her mannerisms suggest alcohol, not violence, are on her mind. If anyone calls her on it, she's got a badge in her small cross-body purse. "Hey," she calls to the bartender as she sits her ass on a bar stool. "What's a girl got to do to get some tequila around here?"

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[She seems pretty acquainted with technology, so he'll ping her some coordinates to Jack's karaoke bar. Singing makes everything better!]

Hah, I'm afraid I won't be in the area for that reward. A name will do just as well. Mine's Ted.

[She glances down at the smartphone -- which briefly gives him a view up her nose, or at least up her sunglasses before she switches off the screen to check the coordinates. There's some fumbling before she gets the video back up to say]

Your loss. Swear this place has tequila and maybe I'll blow you one. [she doesn't even look embarrassed when she amends] A kiss. [she gives a small wave] Yup, that's me. Jordan 'No Filter' Cavanaugh.

[Ted's innocent ears have been spared that kind of innuendo, so the clarification just makes him a little confused.]

Haha, I'll keep an ear to the air for it. Interesting surname; connected to the mysterious St. Caomhan, correct?

[That he's likely the only one in the world who's likely to know anything about that doesn't appear to phase.]

[Jordan would apologize if she had a lick of sense, but she's been awake for four days, alternating coffee with tequila and feeding herself on dreams of finding her mother's killer.

The question jars her out of her growing dissociation and she lifts her head as though she'd been falling asleep.]

What? Oh. Yeah. St. Caomhan. Patron saint of Inisheer. Why?

[Sorry Ted. Jordan's got a nearly eidetic memory and morgues are a paradise of little known and little needed trivia. You're not alone.]

[He almost sputters a "what" of his own, as he's really not used to others reciprocating the trivia.]

Oh, that's...yes, exactly. Just, ah, curious, that's all.

[He smiles a little bashfully. An unexpected, but pleasant, surprise.]

Well, like any good saint, I can swear by neither heaven nor Earth. But they ought to have a drink so common.

[Once she hears the music going on in there, she might want more drinks yet.]

Which I'll let you to. Do let me know should more pressing needs arise. Oh, and what's a "videodream", and why do you suspect the world of being one?

Most bars here stock in nearly every kind of alcoholic drink, I've found.

You have just arrived, yes?

Great. Then you can just point me to a bar where I'm not going to get rolled if I'm too drunk to police my cash, and we're good.

[She almost doesn't answer the question, but on second thought, she's not going to get any answers if she doesn't play 'nice'.]

Usually when I arrive in a new city, I at least know the name of a bar and have the copilot's phone number. [she winks, behind her glasses. Damn. She's bad at this.]

You are still in Genessia city, I hope? If so, there's The Hanger Queen, Jack's, and Velvet Lust.

[... what did u do over there. He peers a bit at the phone cos... he... can't see what she did. With the sunglasses on. r u okay]

... What are you doing?

[Well that's awkward. Then again, awkward's her middle name. So she lifts her sunglasses and winks again.]

Winking. It's a thing people do when they're making jokes or flirting. You might have heard of it?

[See? Awkward.]

I have.

I can't see your eyes from behind your sunglasses, miss.

[Ah, there we go. Now he sees the wink.]

Before you pick a bar, one of them does happen to cater primarily towards the gay community, in case you have a specific preference.

Doctor.

[She's ignoring the fact that he looks like a runaway from a comic book convention and she's not going to think about why she needs to ignore that. If she thinks too hard about it, her mind is going to shatter into a thousand mirror shards.]

I'm looking for a drink, not a booty call. What do I care who they want to screw?

Matt looks up from the end of the bar and wincing at the loud tone. "Maybe ask like a normal person," he points out his voice firm but quiet, a tone that says "I am annoyed, but acting like a decent human being because why not."

He is sitting with a half full drink in front of him, his red sunglasses in place looking above his glass rather than at it an unassuming man with red hair and a decent suit.

Jordan shoots the guy a look, pegs the suit for lawyer, and almost bolts the other direction. She and lawyers are like 'this'--where 'this' is two prison blocks separated by a guard tower and barbed wire fence policed by snipers with Belgian Malinois. She remembers no one can hear her because she's thinking, not talking to the smartphone, and sighs.

"If you can tell me how a normal person who just lost her last lead on the ice cold case of her mother's murder and found herself in a video game would ask, I'll get right on that," she says. It's not caustic, for a miracle. Just... burnt and typically Jordan overshare.

"Maybe by taking a second to lower your voice," Matt replies easily, "and taking a breath." He can tell from her heat beat she's stressed and upset and it's giving him a headache. "It might help you figure out what to do next."

Because she's giving herself a headache, too, Jordan sits and raises her fingers politely to get the bartender's attention. She's a good Irish girl and she practically grew up in a bar, so she adds a sheepish sort of broken bird smile.

"Tequila was what to do next," she says to the stranger who, now that she's paying attention, is either fully or significantly blind. She doesn't do anything stupid like talk louder because he can't see. She actually lowers her voice in deference to the fact he's probably got very acute hearing. "After that, it's figure out why and how I'm here, where here is, and how to get home." She raises her hand to forestall protest, forgetting for the moment that he can't see that. "I know. I already have the answers, but I don't accept that when the BPD says 'natural causes' and I'm not going to accept it now."

She can't.

There were many good reasons for River to be out drinking tonight, and she wasn't going to bother to go into any of them. Instead, she just flirted with the bartender and lamented the brandy that was in the TARDIS but that she didn't want a lecture on if she drank. So, she had availed herself of one of the many fine drinking establishments in town and was currently sitting with a drink in front of her. Turning towards the woman with a little bit of a smirk, she just said softly. "Traditionally the way is asking, but I suppose the offer can be good too. Careful though, you never know who might be taking you up on it."

"Right now, if Archie Bunker offered me tequila, I'd kiss his racist mug," Jordan replied to the woman beside her. "I'd tear him a new one afterward, but an offer's an offer."

She pulled her sunglasses down to look over them, decided she liked the smirk, and shifted to face her. Jordan was 100% straight, but that had never stopped her. "Why, are you planning to take me up on it?"

River laughs, she can't help it, and she picks up her drink and takes another sip of it, studying the woman with an appraising smile. "I hadn't planned on it, no." And then one brow went upwards, and the smile turned into something more amused and fluid. "But then again, I was never one to turn down a challenge..."

In any way, of course.

"I like you already," Jordan decides aloud, but she doesn't wait for the woman to order her a drink. The bartender's come over, so she orders tequila and a beer, and whatever the woman's having. "Now you're starting with a disadvantage."

Jordan pushes her sunglasses up. Blessedly it's dark enough her eyes don't hurt. "Dr. Jordan Cavanaugh. And you are?"

At being called liked, River's lips just turned up into a smile, and she followed it with a melodic laugh. It was nice to be liked, especially when so many people had met someone else who had made her seem like the wicked witch of the west by comparison. So, she instantly likes this woman as well. Picking up her whiskey, River just finishes it in what can only be described as a toss before she reached for the new one.

"Professor River Song. Thanks for the drink, Dr. Cavanaugh."

Jordan lifts her glass to Professor Song's. "May the taps be open when they rust," she says and then tosses back her tequila. The burn soothes something in Jordan's chest and when she catches the bartender's eye, there's a finger tap for another already.

"Professor of what?" she addresses to her drinking companion, and the question is clearly not perfunctory.

"Archeology." The answer is easy as she throws back her drink like it's nothing, which comparatively to some things, it actually is. After all, she's someone who drinks hypervodka on a regular basis and all of that. "I teach at the Uni here." But it's clear that's probably not exactly her normal sort of job with everything.

"What kind of doctor are you, sweetie?"

"Sweetie?" Jordan sweeps an eyebrow upward, but she's honestly more amused than annoyed. It's not like a guy being dismissive or patronizing, so she can deal with it. "I'm a medical examiner. So a pathologist."

River doesn't bother to qualify the 'sweetie'. She never has and she's not about to start now. Instead she just looks interested at Jordan's choice of work. "Not a field where there are many women." Not unlike her own, actually. "Kudos for that." River lifted her drink with a smile to toast the woman, and it was clear that it wasn't simply her being a smart ass or anything like that.

"More than you'd think," Jordan replies, unfazed by both assertion and praise. "But I didn't start out there. I wanted to be a cardio-thoracic surgeon. Then I met the guy who had to examine the body my mentor screwed up on."

"That is quite the different route to take to it, I imagine. There must be a story there." River sounds amused, and she gestures to the bartender for another set of their drinks, just in case. After all, River does love a good story.

You know, you could just ask me about the last three things you're sending Nigel after, but you're welcome to run whatever checks you need as long as they're non-invasive.

And you could do a better job convincing me this isn't some sort of set-up by not popping up when your name is mentioned.

Learn to use the privacy settings before you say you're going to run mystery checks on someone then.

What mystery? [Jordan's gaze narrows behind her shades. She shouldn't have to, but she reaches into her bag and pulls out her BME ID shield, holding it up to the screen.] I've been kidnapped, I'm with the police, and I've told my colleagues and father that if they get my message, they should look for information about those I believe are my captors.

[Some would say she shouldn't show her hand like this, but Jordan's never minded rattling cages. Letting a suspect know you were onto them tended to produce startlingly good results.]

That's not the mystery, I was stating that you're talking about running "checks" on me publicly and expecting me not to speak up. Though it's good to know that you're law enforcement. I'm actually former City Guardian of Nova City, though I willingly resigned to avoid a conflict of interest with the mayor's office that the city didn't deserve to be put through. You'll find there are a lot of people with very strong senses of justice here, that sometimes conflict because of cultural differences across different worlds, so just try to be aware of that.

I'm a medical examiner. [Her voice crackles with chill.] My idea of justice is catching killers. And if that's not someone's idea of justice, that sounds like a them problem.

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1st Case ☘ [Video / Action]

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