#trinity quinn

HUNTER

“Senator Timothy Bradshaw, thank you for having me,” Hunter arrived at the Senator’s mansion, wearing one of his least favorite attire: a black Giorgio Armani coat and tie. Add his facial prosthetic to change his appearance and long brown wig tied in a poiny tail to hide his messy curls, his irritation of his getup amassed, but he forced himself to relax. He already missed the comfort of his casual clothes and jacket, but he can’t exactly come unpresentable in front of the renowned New York politician.

“Yes, of course,” the balding fat man Timothy smiled delightfully at Hunter’s presence. “Right this way, Mr. Newton.” he gestured his hand for Hunter to follow. Hunter nods and walks after the senator. Out of habit, he stored information about the surrounding. Plush pillows placed perfectly on a lush velvet couch, faded flower print curtains decorated the windows, the cliche diamond chandelier hung atop. There was nothing in the house that Hunter didn’t already expect, including the 7 cameras scattered from the living room and in the hallway they were passing through, some motion detectors concealed by the window sills and a guard or two posted at every room. Mr. Bradshaw was a cautious man indeed.

Timothy and Hunter arrive by the intricately designed wooden doors which were the fanciest set he’d seen from all the other doors. This must be his office, Hunter thought, such a no-brainer. “If you’ll excuse me,” Mr. Bradshaw grinned and Hunter caught sight of the lock pad beside the door. “Of course,” he grinned and looked away. Timothy typed his pass code and click. Hunter took it his cue to return facing the man. A guard pushed the door open and Timothy walked toward the chair behind his elegant desk. Hunter nodded his thanks to the guard before going inside. The door was shut behind him and he reached the seat across the senator’s.

“I heard you organize the best auctions in town, Hans,” Timothy decided they were immediately down to business. With humble yet undeniable confidence, Hunter nods with a small grin. Timothy bellowed unexpectedly, catching a surprised look from Hunter. “My boy, you a perfect for this job!”

Hunter-or should we say Hans- chuckled slightly. “Why do I have a feeling we are no longer talking about the event?” he adjusted his tie, one of the nonverbals Hunter decided best for this character. The senator regained his composure and looked straight into Hunter’s eyes. Hunter looked right back at them. “They were right, you are a smart lad.”

Here we go, Hunter thought and braced himself, as the real business discussion began.

—

“I don’t trust him,” Hunter said flatly as he removed the wig and prosthetic.

“Duuudee, that’s disgusting!” Titus yelped as he chewed on his pizza.

“Yet you want to accompany Hunter on almost every business dealings,” William spoke bemused at Titus, before looking back at Hunter. “Ah, free at last,” he shook his head to let his curly strands fall back into their rightful, messy place on his head. “Why do you doubt this charity auction?” William asked once Hunter had kept his disguises back to his kit labeled Hans Newton.

“The stuff he’s auctioning, they’re stuck in customs. He said there’s been a mixup, his artifacts were mistaken as smuggled, and stolen among other things.” Hunter said and settled on the couch, taking a slice of pizza for himself. He took a bite and chewed, “I also noticed how nervous he was, but he was a very good liar. And he kept glancing on a photograph framed by his desk. Titus, can you check i-”

“Already ahead of you,” Titus placed his laptop on the table for Hunter and William to see. “Thanks to Dayton’s software, we had access to Senator Bradshaw’s cameras.” He pressed rewind and stopped, hitting slowmo play. “There,” he points on the screen and it zooms in to the framed photograph Hunter referred to.

“It’s his brother,” William said, resolute.

Hunter nods in agreement. It was no secret that the senator had a brother. It was in the file they had all read before taking on this case. The problem was, the brother was already dead. “Whatever the senator’s dirty secret is, it has something to do with his brother,” Hunter said.

“Uhm guys,” Titus cut off William and Hunter’s shared moment of realization. “Guess where the brother’s last residence was.”

“Gotham,” William and Hunter read from the laptop screen at the same time.

“2 months ago?” Hunter furrowed his eyebrows. How was that possible?

“Looks like your smarty pants gut was right again, Mathieu,” Titus mocked and pats Hunter’s back. “I sense something shady and dangerous in our future, lads.” William frowned at Titus then at Hunter, “We’re going to Gotham, aren’t we?” Hunter’s eyes remained fixed on the laptop. Titus and William looked at each other and nodded. Hunter’s engrossment and silence meant yes, they were.

They were going to Gotham to find some answers.

TRINITY

The sound of flesh hitting flesh with a bone-shattering force echoed through the air as the man awoke with shock and pain. The woman, who’s face was mere inches from his now, smirked so wickedly it seeped up into her violet eyes. “Oh good, you’re awake. I thought a nice backhand would do the trick.” The husky, sultry voice drew the man’s attention back to reality. He was clearly in an abandoned warehouse of some sort, far off from anyone who would care if they heard noises, or screams, coming from inside. It was huge, and cold. The smell of the ocean on the air. This woman didn’t seem too concerned with him working out where they were…maybe because she had no intention of him leaving.

She stood up right, her posture perfect, and looked down at him. When the man had lost consciousness it had been a pale, colorfully dressed red headed woman who had hit him. The woman in front of him was her polar opposite. Not only was she tan, but her dark hair contrasted harshly with her eyes. Her outfit was completely leather, pants as well as a fitted vest. It would be an arousing sight if she wasn’t holding such a large blade and looking at him like she wanted to eat him for supper. She was covered in dark tattoos, it seemed every inch of her besides her face. To make matters worse, her eyes seemed to be swirling…as if the color itself was moving.

“Now, Gerald was it?” She asked and the man sputtered a weak response of “Barry.” She smiled, a truly horrifying smile. “Gerald, an annoying little birdie told me that you had some information that I am very much interested in. Do you know what information I’m looking for?” The man shook his head, trembling with fear. She smiled again, the extent of his complete absence of courage was more than just disgusting, it was promising. “I heard you have information regarding an old friend of mine. Some call him Jack-“

“I don’t know anything about him or where he is!” The man shouted suddenly. An instant later a terrible sting filled his leg with pain. She’d sliced the knife right along it faster than a blink. Then her face was in his again and her smile was gone.

“Do not, ever, interrupt me while I’m speaking, Gerald. It’s rude.” The man nodded and she stood upright, smiling yet again. “I know you don’t know where he is. But I do know that you know where his men are, and that they may know where he is. Where they both are.” She looked at the man with an expectant grin, “Who do know who I’m speaking of, don’t you?”

“Y-yes. Miss Qui-“ A finger was pressed against his lips as she moved closer in a seductive sort of motion.

“Yes is enough. Now, tell me, Gerald…love, where are the men of our mutual friend?” She sat down firmly on his leg and he moaned in pain. “I don’t like to ask more than once.”

—

“All he had were dead ends. Roads already traveled.” Trixie was wiping blood off her knife as she walked away from the warehouse district, the smell of smoke in the air. A growl sounded in her mind and she sighed, so very annoyed.

“I didn’t tell ya ta kill him!” She heard, then smirked a much too amused smirk.

“I know babe, that’s why I took care of it. Because you were being an idiot.”

“He was important, Trixie! Someone will notice!” Another growl. Miss Goody Two-shoes was angry.

“That’s why I-“ An explosion sounded behind her and she smiled, “-used Wade’s gift. No one will have a clue what happened to him. Relax.”

“If ya get me locked up in Arkham again, so help me Trixie, I’ll-“

“What?” She asked, amused, “Kill yourself? Fat chance. We’re in this together sister, like it or not.”

“Let me out. Now!” The growl echoed in her head so loudly she stumbled slightly, placing a hand on the wall to brace herself as she grimaced.

“Oh come on, Trin. You never let me out for anything but bloodshed anymore. We have other needs you know. Just because you’ve gone all chastity since-“ The sting was felt by both of them, right in the ticker. How annoying. “Just let me find a man first. One good romp will set us right, maybe even-“

“No. Let me out!” A sigh so heavy oozed from her lips it was as if her soul were leaving her body. Resignation, full resignation. In an instant the tan faded, the tattoos morphed, the hair color bleed and the violet receded from her eyes. Joints cracked and popped as her pale arms reached for the sky, her dark red locks falling into her eyes. “Thank ya.” Her hands roamed over her crimson, satin corset and down her black skirt. straightening them out. “An’ next time, lotion before the leather. You’re tearin’ our skin ta shreds with that shit.” Her soft, smooth voice mumbled, clearly still stuck in the physical relief of being out. A husky laugh echoed in her mind.

“So where to now? Back to the big apple?” The whine mixed with annoyance was clear.

“No, not yet. We’ve still got more business in Gotham, so for now, we’ll go back ta the hotel. Tomorrow night, we’ve got another man ta see.” Trinity sighed, already tired of all these dead ends. Trixie, on the other hand, practically purred with delight. Another night in Gotham meant another night of fun for her. But the bloodshed was taking it’s toll on Trinity. /You’re not your parents,/ the thought floated through her head, to which Trixie chortled.

“No…not yet.”

HUNTER

“Are you sure this is a good idea, Hunter?” Titus shifted uneasily on his seat while he drove. Hunter was busy by the passenger seat, looking through his notes as he scribbled furiously his additional thoughts. His handwriting was jumbled up and the paper filled with scribbles and squiggly lines instead of his ideas. Hunter sighed and leaned back on his seat, instead looking out the window to admire the view. Gotham was just moments away, he could already see from the horizon. “We’ll figure it out,” he replied in a quiet voice as they finally reach the city.

—

The hotel they had reserved was true to its word. The place was well-lit and its decorations simple yet elegant. Hunter almost shrugged as the fancy environment reminded him of his trips with his mother and his uncle. They weren’t his fondest memories. As he and Titus accept the key card from the reception desk, the two with their stuff went to the elevator. The door almost closed, and noticing there was someone inside he called out, “Wait up.” He hit the open button which caused the doors to open. Titus grinned happily and stepped in first, followed by Hunter. He pressed floor number 4. Hunter held onto the straps of his bag and looked around casually.

He couldn’t help observe their other companion. Her hair color was quite an attention stealer. Hah, a thief’s attention is stolen, he thought to himself the corny joke. Titus was obviously just as attracted, even worse than Hunter was. Hunter glared at him, daring him to not do anything. Titus was about to open his mouth to say something witty to impress the girl, perhaps, but Hunter knew it wouldn’t work. Titus returned Hunter’s glare until the ‘ding’ of the elevator sounds. The doors swung open and Hunter grabbed Titus’s arm to save him from the embarrassment. “Nice to meet you too,” Titus forced and waved goodbye to the woman while Hunter dragged him out. So much for saving Titus from embarrassment.

TRINITY

“And why the hell, exactly, are we staying here?” The voice rumbled in her mind as Trinity pulled a suitcase from the back of her emerald green '69 Mustang, the color of the car matched her natural hues perfectly. She shut the trunk and sighed at the annoyance roaming her mind.

“Because I said so, that’s why. Now quit your bitchin’.”

“We have a place in Gotham, already. A glamorous, well-equipped, place. With feather pillows and-”

“An’ every baddie an’ his mother in Gotham who want us dead know where it is, don’t they? I wonder who’s fault that is.” Trinity bit back with annoyance of her own.

Trixie wasn’t the type to show shame, in any form. Instead, her response was something of a…moan. “But you didn’t see him, Trin. He was gorgeous! And fit, and oh god, he was h-”

“What he was, was a spy! Somethin’ I could have told ya if ya hadn’t blocked me out the second ya spotted him.”

A resigned sigh emitted from the voice inside her head, and then silence. Trinity knew well that that meant Trixie was pouting in a corner. She took this as her opportunity to check in with silence in her mind.

—

The man behind the desk arched a brow at her, his fingers pausing over the keyboard as he stared at the woman before him. Ah, that look. Trinity hadn’t missed it in the slightest. It seemed everyone in Gotham knew who she was by face alone. This would have been a good time not to come in as herself, but a girl had to have hope…however hopeless it might be later.

“You said…Smith? Heather Smith?” The man looked at her in utter disbelief.

“Yes, Smith.” Her tone was sharp, but her smile never faltered. “Is there a problem?”

Gulping, the man quickly shook his head and got to work. In a matter of minutes she had the key to the penthouse suite in her hand and she was making her way over to the elevator. She wouldn’t be able to stay more than a night here. The man was terrified of her, yes, but no one in Gotham had even a tiny peck of honor in them. He’d squawk like he was paid for it at the first sign of questioning.

A heavy sigh emitted from her lips as she leaned back against the back wall of the elevator, her suitcase tucked against the wall beside her. When she heard a shout from the lobby as the doors began to close she stretched her leg out, a Converse clad foot interrupting the closure of the doors enough to cause them to open again.

Trinity had been raised for this town. She was a pro at observation, especially while looking completely unfazed. Even with her eyes on the chipped black nails she held in front of her, the glances from the men who entered, and the one man’s smirk, were far from lost on her. Slowly, a smirk of her own crept onto her face. Mentally she was almost daring the man to make a move, curious as  to what he thought he could do to catch the attention of a Gotham girl, because it was obvious from the second they entered that they were not from Gotham. Sadly for her, a significant gaze from one of the other men cut him short.

That’s when she chose to glance at the man, curious as to whether is look of warning to the other was a 'were not here for that’ sort of look, or a 'don’t you know who that is’ kind of look. Trinity’s money was on the former. As the doors opened the man she’d held her gaze on forced the other from the elevator and she chuckled at the poor man’s words as they left.

“Ya ought ta listen to that one, sugar.” Trinity said with a tilt of her chin in the direction of the man who held his arm. “This is Gotham, which is precisely why I’m the last person you should be glad ta meet.” Her gaze quickly flitted from man to man, her smirk growing a little wicked. “Too bad for it, really…” Raising a hand to wave her fingers playfully at them, a small wink to the man who’d intended to hit on her, she cooed “Welcome ta Gotham, boys.”

HUNTER

Titus’ mouth was agape, as he only waved goodbye to the woman, not a single dumb word escaping his lips. That’s a good thing, Hunter thought and shrugged. “Did you see the way she looked at me? Ahh,” Titus’ legs felt wobbly and he barely managed to stand, much less walk after Hunter. Too tired from their drive and from glaring at his bud, he just took Titus’ arm and dragged him roughly to their room.

“Ouch,” Titus complained as he rubbed the slight throbbing on his arm. Hunter ignored him as he unlocked the door to their room. The two men made their way inside, and without wasting a second, began to set their stuff up. Titus worked on securing their room, filling it with audio-visual bugs in places no one would think to look. Hunter was on the bed, his laptop pulled out as he began to hack into the hotel security. Consider them paranoid, but it was obvious that they weren’t from the neighborhood. The least they could do was make sure they had eyes in as many places around them as possible, in case someone decided to snoop around and ask why they’re in Gotham in the first place.

Titus wiped an imaginary bead of sweat off his forehead as he placed the seventh and last bug they had allotted for their room. “All done, pal,” he said as he landed beside Hunter with a soft thump. Titus grabbed the remote and turned the TV on. “How’s the hacky pokey dance?” Titus whistled as he flipped through channels. Hunter was almost done, and with a final key, he pressed enter and his screen became filled with live footage of the hotel. “Finished with a pirouette on top,” he grinned in satisfaction as fell flat on his back.

Thoughts of the danger they were going to face swirled in his mind like a tornado. Sure, their lives were always on the line; that comes with the job no doubt. What bothered Hunter most was their lack of information on Gotham, how the city’s system worked and how the people here interacted with each other. They will have to find a resource person, someone they could trust, in the loose sense of the word.

Hunter fished a small piece of paper tucked in his pocket. He read it over and over, as if he hadn’t already memorized it before they came here.

Midnight Delirium.

Two words, which were their sole lead in finding Timothy Bradshaw’s grave and digging up the skeletons that came with it. Something about its name haunted him, but perhaps it was just his paranoia kicking in. And also the tiresome drive they had all day. Hunter glanced at Titus only to find him snoozing quietly. He eased the remote away from his friend’s grip and switched to a local news channel. His mind and body were already weary, but hey, it wouldn’t hurt getting to know more about Gotham. He could use the information for tomorrow endeavor. He sat upright and leaned his back against a pillow, as he allowed himself to be doused in the words of the reporter. “In tonight’s news flash…”

TRINITY

As the doors of the elevator shut Trinity laughed a loud, hearty laugh. Oh, the look on the man’s face: priceless. Even the voice gave a hearty laugh to the way he’d been struck mute. Messing with men would never, ever, get old. For either one of them.

—

With a heavy, relaxed sigh Trinity stepped out of the bathroom, snuggled up in the soft robe with a towel wrapped around her hair. “I don’t give a fuck what ya say 'bout this place, that shower is fuckin’ awesome.” The voice chuckled in response, 'Yeah okay, it was good.’ It agreed.

Trinity plopped down and turned the TV on, mildly curious as to whether or not their earlier adventures would make the news yet. Trinity had hoped not, but Trixie was crossing her fingers for coverage. Her timing couldn’t have been better. Just as she got to the news station the words “Breaking News” flashed onto the screen, and the report began.

“We’ve just been told that an explosion heard in the Warehouse District earlier tonight turned out be some kind of home-made bomb.” The serious yet surprised tone of the woman’s voice caused Trinity to roll her eyes. “Authorities on the scene were witnessed removing a body from the fire, which seems to have been at the center of the explosion.”

The report switched to the male anchor, “There are speculations that this was some kind of suicide-bombing attempt, however the man found is thought to resemble Barry Witshire, a known accomplice of the infamous Joker. Now, neither Joker nor his sidekick, Harley Quinn, have been seen in many years. However, is it possible that this is a signaling of their return? Or, perhaps, could it be the work for their eldest -and only living- daughter, Trinity Quinn?”

“Fuck me!” She shouted, sitting up right and pulling the towel from her hair just as an image of Trinity from her modeling days flashed onto the screen. She had far less tattoos and was only about 18, but it was her all the same. The voice in her head shrieked with laughter, 'OH MY GOD! Did you really look like /that/?! This is priceless!’

The female anchor continued, “Trinity, ex-owner of Stardust Modeling Agency and current club-owner of Midnight Delirium has had her own run-ins with police from a young age. Including a stint in Arkham Asylum following the murder of her sister, from which she earned her release. While Miss Quinn has never been formally accused of any crimes in her adult life, there has been a constant fear from all law enforcement agencies that she may, one day, follow in her parent’s footsteps.”

The male took over again, “The commissioner denied to comment on the events at hand, but did say that there was no evidence to indicate Trinity was in anyway involved, as she hasn’t been seen in Gotham since she moved to New York City.”

Trinity shut the TV off and groaned, chucking the remote at the wall. “I fuckin’ told ya, dammit!” She yelled, to which the voice groaned in annoyance. 'Relax, it’s purely speculation.’ Crossing her arms as she breathed deeply, Trinity shook her head slightly. “Either way, you know what this means.” The voice practically whined, 'Really? Do we have to?’

“I won’t have those fuckers in my club, Trixie! An’ Ed doesn’t have spine enough ta keep 'em out.” Trixie could protest all she wanted, Trinity was settled on it. Trixie wouldn’t have her night out tomorrow after all. Trinity needed to be at her club when the vultures, or worse, came looking for quotes or information. She wouldn’t have cops storming her club, ever.

HUNTER

Hunter paid as much attention to most of the reporter’s words, despite the tiresome journey he and Titus made. He wasn’t the one who drove, but he did stay awake the entire time. He was about to dismiss the news when familiar words hit his ear: Midnight Delirium. He already had the remote at hand, so he quickly turned up the volume. His dazed state was no more; now he was alert as ever.

There were speculations on the return of The Joker and Harley Quinn with regard to the recent explosion, but then another suspect was put on the table. The picture of their daughter Trinity Quinn filled the screens momentarily then it was gone. Hunter felt like he was punched in the gut; he and Titus had just seen the woman on the elevator. “Shit,” he mumbled to himself. He grabbed Titus and shook him, but his friend grumbled and pushed his hand away.

“Titus, you have to see this,” Hunter tried to wake him again while his fingers flew across the laptop, researching everything he can about Trinity Quinn. There wasn’t much about her that the reporter hadn’t already told in summary. Further digging lead him to read about the woman’s parents instead. Now that turned up a lot of files which didn’t actually make him confident or comfortable of their presence here in Gotham. 'Why did I have to be such a curious lil’ bastard,’ he thought to himself as he read of horrific crimes done by Trinity’s parents. His fingers were crossed that nothing too extreme greets them by surprise tomorrow.

'Isn’t that the point why you’re researching, Hunter? To be prepared?’

“Ha,” he responds to his inner voice. So much for knowing. All Hunter was sure of now was this place is dangerous. He glanced to his side where Titus slept peacefully, whereas here he was seated with his laptop, deeming how he won’t be able to sleep for tomorrow’s endeavor.

—

“So wait, we’re going clubbing to the hot chick’s place?” Titus was filled with joy and energy.

“Did you forget the part about the explosion and violent murders?” Hunter scoffed at his friend, and immediately Titus was pale. The duo were both cowards, it just so happens Hunter was good at pretending he wasn’t. Titus wasn’t as fortunate. In his dark clothing, he looked like a dead body that was about to die. Exaggerated, yet accurate.

Hunter, on the other hand, in the same dark clothes of a shirt, jeans, shoes and his favorite leather jacket, he put on the calmest expression he could as the cab stopped at their destination: Midnight Delirium. “I feel hella delirious right now, H,” Titus nudged Hunter. Before he could respond, the driver spoke, “That would be $23.50.” Hunter shoved three $10 bills at the driver’s hands. “Keep the change.”

The thieves stepped out of the cab and into a whole new world of unfamiliarity as they made their way inside Trinity Quinn’s territory.

TRINITY

Trinity slept that night, but not well. The anxiety brought on with the idea of cops in her club showed itself in her dreams. Dreams that went from tussles with officers to dark streets littered with dead officers. Only two though, two in particular. The same two over and over, all over the street. It was less a dream and more a memory at that point. Then a wisp of silky blonde hair floated in front of her, an arrogant smirk, and a child-like glimmer in her eye. She tried to reach out for the girl, to stop what was about to happen, but there was no stopping the past.

With the bang of a fired pistol and a scream Trinity sat bolt upright in bed, drenched in a cold sweat. The bang was in her mind, the scream however was from her. She only knew because of the raw feeling in her throat. If anyone had been around to witness it, they’d see the pure whiteness to her eyes. Then a husky coo from her mind soothed her. 'It was just a dream, that’s all.’ Trinity released a shuttering gasp and with a single sniffle promptly made her way to the shower. She didn’t care if it was the dark hours of the morning or what that meant for how much sleep she got. She needed a distraction, and her club was going to be it.

—

It was almost as if she hadn’t even been away. She had arrived at the club before anyone else, per usual, and scared the living hell out of Ed by already being there. He thought she was there because of something he’d done. He’s paranoia was hilarious. The hours passed as they got the club ready for yet another busy night and then finally, every thing was right again. Trinity was behind the bar serving drinks (and looking out for cops) and Ed was in the back having a panic attack.

There were hundreds of clubs in Gotham as well as New York, but Midnight Delirium remained in a class of it’s own. It could be the fact that it was something of a hybrid, with both a lounge-like bar area as well as a high-energy dance floor area. Or, it could be the intoxicating energy of the place that promised an opportunity to lose yourself and truly /live/ for once. But most likely it was it’s reputations. The most popularly known reputation was of it being unfriendly to officers. The more underground, and lesser-known one was for it being something of a hot-spot for the elusive and legendary 'meta-humans’. Some still didn’t believe they existed, but if you wanted the chance to meet one, you eventually wound up at Midnight Delirium.

Whatever the reason that brought them in, the club was never short of bodies. Tonight was no exception. The music was loud, the crowd was pulsing, and even Trinity found herself in a sultry/sweet kind of mood. Of course flirting was always part of the job, but enjoying it wasn’t usually. The fact that she’d gotten a few hours into business hours without a single cop-sighting had put her in the good mood. Perhaps her fears were all for naught.

Everything shifted slightly, however, in energy as well as mood when she spotted a pair coming into the club that looked strangely familiar. It took only a moment, however, for her to realize it was the same pair from the elevator the night before. A smirk slid onto her features as the voice in her head chimed in, 'My money is on coincidence.’ Trinity chuckled and spoke under her breath, “Because ya believe it, or because-” The voice interrupted, 'Because I want to bone him.’ Shaking her head Trinity asked, “Which one?” 'Either,’ it replied, then moaned gently, 'or both.’

Trinity made her way to the far end of the bar, the less crowded end. She knew it was no coincidence, and if they were here for her she wanted to know why. “They aren’t here for that, and ya know it.” The voice groaned woefully. 'Are we going to have to kill them?’ Trinity laughed more genuinely this time as she focused her gaze on the pair, her smirk growing slightly as if to call them in like a beacon. “Lets hope not.”

She knew they’d notice her, because she knew they weren’t here to party. They weren’t dressed for it, stood out too much. She waited patiently until they did, and once she had the attention she’d beckon them over with a finger. Sure, it was more than a little seductive of an action, but she was trying to keep up the flirty mood as her facade until she knew what they wanted. She wasn’t sure if they’d fall for it, but she had a feeling she could at least get some information out of the flirt. Even if he needed some…coaxing. When they approached, at last, she slid her teeth along her lower lip and giggled playfully, “Well well, what a surprise. Y'all aren’t stalkin’ me now, are ya?”

HUNTER

Midnight Delirium stuck true to its name. It was unlike any club that Hunter had been to in his life, and that says a lot. Titus, on the other hand, was very drawn to the odd, electric environment which Hunter considered dangerously hypnotic. The pulsing music, bright lights, unfamiliar scents of liquor. Hunter’s keen senses were experiencing massive overload that he struggled to keep his focus. “Who exactly am I looking for,” he murmured under his breath as his eyes go back and forth while keeping 'a leash’ on Titus. “Don’t be stubborn, T, let me focus,” Hunter gritted his teeth.

“But man, this place is the hots. It’s perfect for me! And I know you kinda like it too. What’s the term you use again?” Titus wondered, only to have his attention get caught by the girl from the hotel. “Holy crap.”

Hunter frowned in his contemplation, “Titus, not n-” he glanced to his side only to find his partner walking toward a particular direction. He rushed after him, pushing through the crowd and putting a hand over his eyes just so the lights don’t blind him. When he was closer to Titus, he could now see who his friend was walking toward to. “Oh,” he mouthed and lingered right behind Titus.

“Yes we are,” Titus was the quick respondent, as always. “No, we’re not stalking you,” Hunter countered simply, making Titus look at him with a deer in the headlights expression, “but we are looking for answers and they lead us here. What do you think?” Hunter tilts his head slightly, a lot of thoughts running his head. Not the kind that is probably in Titus’ head right now, but the kind that is considering the presence of the woman. Her features, specifically. There was something vaguely familiar about her that he can’t quite put a finger on.

TRINITY

Trinity grinned at the quick answer of the flirty one. She imagined it would be all too easy, given the opportunity, to get him alone and convince him to spill every single one of his secrets, eagerly. But that was a back pocket kind of idea, a last resort. She did hate being such a tease when there was no intention of follow-through, after all. She was mean, but not heartless. Her gaze switched to the other as he spoke up, clearly the more logical of the two. ‘He’d be a tough nut to crack,’ thought the voice, then it oozed with sensuality as it said, ‘Let me crack him.’ Trinity ignored the voice, as she often did.

The man mentioned a quest for answers and her brow lifted is he said it had led the two to her club. ‘What do you think?’ was a far more loaded question than the man could have imagined. Some of the flirtatious aura about her dissipated as she stood up-right and surveyed the two men. She hadn’t thought too much about their arrival until now, when suddenly she was realizing who they were fishing for. Trinity liked the boys well enough, they were fun, but she wasn’t the kind of fish that was easily hooked. She let the brief silence between his question and her response linger in the air for a moment more. Then, her hands moved behind her back.

“What I think? Well, I think…” She untied her apron and set it down on the counter just behind the bar, “That whatever the two of ya are chasin’, if it led ya here… you’re way out o’ your depth, darlin’.” Such a statement might have sounded condescending, except that there was nothing in that arena displayed in Trinity’s tone. It was more a tone of warning, and perhaps even concern. She turned on her heel and beckoned the two with a finger once again, “Best discussed in my office, I think.” She said as she made her way to the other end of the bar, leaving the men to make there way around through the crowd. She stopped part way by Joe, the other person manning the bar, and whispered something into his ear. He glanced at her, his expression a mixture of many things too intermingled to decipher, then he nodded and went right back to work.

She met the men on the other end of the bar, where she pushed back a deep, crimson colored curtain which revealed a door with a sign that said ‘No Admittance’. She punched in a code to the panel just by the knob and it opened without an effort, with a smile she held it open for them and waited for them to enter before letting it shut behind her. The sound of it re-locking was audible enough to hear at any point in the room. The room itself was quite the contrast to the club. It was an office, made clear by the large oak desk directly in front of them topped with a laptop and various kinds of paper work, all book-keeping sorts of things. To the right the room opened up into a kind of sitting area. There was a lush, leather couch as well as a gaming chair and a beanbag chair, the latter faced a large screen TV mounted on the wall, but didn’t appear to be plugged into anything. The walls were mostly bookshelfs, all filled to the brim. And against the far wall, one of the few open wall spaces, there was two arcade-console. Mrs. Pac-man and Street Fighter.

Trinity walked herself around the desk and plopped down into her lush desk chair, an act that normally would have seemed ungraceful coming off, some how, as elegant. She lifted a glass, half full with a dark liquid, to her ruby lips and raised a hand to indicate that they sit themselves down in the two chairs opposite her. After she sat her glass down, she didn’t even wait for them to get comfortable, she asked, “So, what is it, exactly, that y’all are lookin’ for answers to? And how, pry tell, did that lead ya ta the last place the two o’ you should want to be?” Her smile and tone remained light, and yet still those words hung heavily in the air.

HUNTER

If Hunter would describe the woman in one word, it would be tenacious. Despite playing nice with him and Titus, there was no mistaking that look in her eyes. She was weighing in on the two of them. Bumping into each other once may be coincidence, but stumbling into each other a second time is more than enough to raise suspicion. He was sure he would’ve acted the same way.

His hands remained in his pockets as he kept his silence even after she offered they come meet at her office. He can tell Titus had sensed the gravity of the matter at hand with the way Hunter was treading these waters. They were in unknown territory, and he hated that. He always liked to plan everything ahead, down to the last detail. Right now, his senses tingled, telling him that danger follows him the moment he followed the woman, which Hunter guessed, is the same woman on the news screen last night: Trinity Quinn. No wonder something looked vaguely familiar about her.

Hunter followed her and kept his guard up, whereas Titus was unusually quiet the entire walk to her office. By the time they arrived at the door, she entered a code to unlock it and left the door opened for them. Titus looked at Hunter for assurance, to which Hunter responded with a nod. Titus was in first and Hunter was right behind his friend. Despite the loud party noise outside, this room was quite soundproofed, making the locking of the doors sound all too audible, just right behind him. Judging from his quick scan of the room, he can tell the door was the only way: in and out. They were stuck down here until the endeavor was over.

Hunter kept his eyes trailed on the woman, out of both curiosity and caution. Titus would have preferred this, he knew, but T’s eyes were better off examining the room. At least, that was the plan they agreed upon. Hunter would do a better job of reading her than Titus would. These two men- friends, but now colleagues- were very professional, settling at the vacant seat across that of the woman’s.

“That’s a good question,” T said coolly, leaning back on the seat and diverting his eyes to H. “Tell her.” Hunter pushed his bushy, curly hair back out of habit, before he began tonight’s Face to Face episode. With special guest, Ms. Trinity Quinn.

“Let’s see. We both know my friend has the hots for you, but that’s not the answer I’m looking for.” He glanced at Titus briefly, yet sternly. “Or not the question I’d like to hear either, for that matter.” His full attention was back at Trinity. “I’ll make this short and simple. Timothy Bradshaw, ever heard of him?” He quirked his eyebrows in thought, wondering what she - or her body language - would have to say.

TRINITY

Trinity leaned back in her chair leasuirely, but still with perfect posture as the two collected themselves in preparation of answering her question. She was sure she knew where it was all headed, as it never heads in any other direction, bur her features never betrayed her. That was the benefit of being able to replicate any person, you learn quite a lot about being an actress.

She smirked slightly at the flirty one's cool demeanor that quickly directed the question to his friend. Clearly, he was conceding to the one in charge in this situation, but with the utmost respect, surely. Perhaps his loyalty would have made him harder to crack than she had anticipated. The voice purred at this idea. Her mind was pulled from these thoughts, however, as soon as his curly-haired friend started talking.

She couldn't help letting her smirk grow further as he threw the obvious attraction on the table, and wiped it off just as quickly with a stern glance at his counterpart. "Party pooper," she mumbled softly under her breath, but she knew they both heard it. She really was trying to behave herself, but baiting men was what she did. And worse than that, her other half craved it worse than sex itself.  Combine that with her naturally inclination toward flirty, and you've got a recipe for distraction. What did snap her back to task at hand, however, was his question.

There was no stopping it, her facade shattered faster than her innocence had. Her brow lifted, her eyes went slightly wide, and she sat forward so far she was practically on top of the desk. "...what?  Ya came here ta ask about Senator Bradshaw?... that's it?... really?"

She surveyed the two for a moment, her features growing neutral as she tried to decide how to process this information. She was seldom wrong about reading situations, and these two had certainly stumped her because she did not see this one coming. Then slowly, and much more darkly, her smirk returned to her features. She set her glass down and brought both elbows onto the desk in front of her to lean in eagerly as she grinned at them. "Well, what would a lil' ol' bar owner know 'bout a Senator that ya two bright, handsome, boys couldn't Google-search to discover?

HUNTER

Hunter observed the woman who was obviously contemplating about what to say next. He had a feeling things were about to get more interesting than the wild ruckus in the dance floor outside the locked doors.

A quick look to Titus and he knew his friend was just waiting on him for them to make progress this evening. It was his gut that wanted to dig deeper, albeit the danger that came with it. Makes him think maybe he should have gone to Gotham by himself instead of bringing Titus along. The expression he saw on the woman's face makes him feel uneasy for his friend's safety. He didn't really mind his own.

"Yeah, of course we tried Google," he went along the woman's sarcasm, feeling his own coming out. "I expected to find something informative. I guess the Senator's lady friends were pretty useful," he pursed his lips in thought, as if daydreaming about the said women, "but it wasn't the kind of use I'm looking for." Hunter shrugged and scanned the woman's face. "You don't happen to be one of those women, hm?" Okay, now he was pushing his luck. He can tell from one look just how dangerous the woman can be when provoked, but his adrenaline junkie self could not resist being a tease. He wasn't a masochist either, since most of the time he ends up getting brutalized. He just enjoyed his mind games and how people couldn't understand his line train of thoughts.

Just like this job with Bradshaw. Other than an overly exposed sex life to the public, he appeared to be a quite a philanthropist by running charitable events to benefit all sorts of people from various causes. If it wasn't for Hunter's observant eyes and sleuthy instinct, along with a failure on the Senator's part, then he and Titus wouldn't be here. Hunter wouldn't have questions, curiosities, which would lead him where he is now.

He didn't mind if he and Trinity would play this game all night long.

Timothy and Hunter arrive by the intricately designed wooden doors which were the fanciest set he'd seen from all the other doors. This must be his office, Hunter thought, such a no-brainer. "If you'll excuse me," Mr. Bradshaw grinned and Hunter caught sight of the lock pad beside the door. "Of course," he grinned and looked away. Timothy typed his pass code and click. Hunter took it his cue to return facing the man. A guard pushed the door open and Timothy walked toward the chair behind his elegant desk. Hunter nodded his thanks to the guard before going inside. The door was shut behind him and he reached the seat across the senator's.

"I heard you organize the best auctions in town, Hans," Timothy decided they were immediately down to business. With humble yet undeniable confidence, Hunter nods with a small grin. Timothy bellowed unexpectedly, catching a surprised look from Hunter. "My boy, you a perfect for this job!"

Hunter-or should we say Hans- chuckled slightly. "Why do I have a feeling we are no longer talking about the event?" he adjusted his tie, one of the nonverbals Hunter decided best for this character. The senator regained his composure and looked straight into Hunter's eyes. Hunter looked right back at them. "They were right, you are a smart lad."

Here we go, Hunter thought and braced himself, as the real business discussion began.

---

"I don't trust him," Hunter said flatly as he removed the wig and prosthetic.

"Duuudee, that's disgusting!" Titus yelped as he chewed on his pizza.

"Yet you want to accompany Hunter on almost every business dealings," William spoke bemused at Titus, before looking back at Hunter. "Ah, free at last," he shook his head to let his curly strands fall back into their rightful, messy place on his head. "Why do you doubt this charity auction?" William asked once Hunter had kept his disguises back to his kit labeled Hans Newton.

"The stuff he's auctioning, they're stuck in customs. He said there's been a mixup, his artifacts were mistaken as smuggled, and stolen among other things." Hunter said and settled on the couch, taking a slice of pizza for himself. He took a bite and chewed, "I also noticed how nervous he was, but he was a very good liar. And he kept glancing on a photograph framed by his desk. Titus, can you check i-"

"Already ahead of you," Titus placed his laptop on the table for Hunter and William to see. "Thanks to Dayton's software, we had access to Senator Bradshaw's cameras." He pressed rewind and stopped, hitting slowmo play. "There," he points on the screen and it zooms in to the framed photograph Hunter referred to.

"It's his brother," William said, resolute.

Hunter nods in agreement. It was no secret that the senator had a brother. It was in the file they had all read before taking on this case. The problem was, the brother was already dead. "Whatever the senator's dirty secret is, it has something to do with his brother," Hunter said.

"Uhm guys," Titus cut off William and Hunter's shared moment of realization. "Guess where the brother's last residence was."

"Gotham," William and Hunter read from the laptop screen at the same time.

"2 months ago?" Hunter furrowed his eyebrows. How was that possible?

"Looks like your smarty pants gut was right again, Mathieu," Titus mocked and pats Hunter's back. "I sense something shady and dangerous in our future, lads." William frowned at Titus then at Hunter, "We're going to Gotham, aren't we?" Hunter's eyes remained fixed on the laptop. Titus and William looked at each other and nodded. Hunter's engrossment and silence meant yes, they were.

They were going to Gotham to find some answers.

==========

TRINITY: The sound of flesh hitting flesh with a bone-shattering force echoed through the air as the man awoke with shock and pain. The woman, who’s face was mere inches from his now, smirked so wickedly it seeped up into her violet eyes. “Oh good, you’re awake. I thought a nice backhand would do the trick.” The husky, sultry voice drew the man’s attention back to reality. He was clearly in an abandoned warehouse of some sort, far off from anyone who would care if they heard noises, or screams, coming from inside. It was huge, and cold. The smell of the ocean on the air. This woman didn't seem too concerned with him working out where they were...maybe because she had no intention of him leaving.

She stood up right, her posture perfect, and looked down at him. When the man had lost consciousness it had been a pale, colorfully dressed red headed woman who had hit him. The woman in front of him was her polar opposite. Not only was she tan, but her dark hair contrasted harshly with her eyes. Her outfit was completely leather, pants as well as a fitted vest. It would be an arousing sight if she wasn’t holding such a large blade and looking at him like she wanted to eat him for supper. She was covered in dark tattoos, it seemed every inch of her besides her face. To make matters worse, her eyes seemed to be swirling…as if the color itself was moving.

“Now, Gerald was it?” She asked and the man sputtered a weak response of “Barry.” She smiled, a truly horrifying smile. “Gerald, an annoying little birdie told me that you had some information that I am very much interested in. Do you know what information I’m looking for?” The man shook his head, trembling with fear. She smiled again, the extent of his complete absence of courage was more than just disgusting, it was promising. “I heard you have information regarding an old friend of mine. Some call him Jack-“

“I don’t know anything about him or where he is!” The man shouted suddenly. An instant later a terrible sting filled his leg with pain. She’d sliced the knife right along it faster than a blink. Then her face was in his again and her smile was gone.

“Do not, ever, interrupt me while I’m speaking, Gerald. It’s rude.” The man nodded and she stood upright, smiling yet again. “I know you don’t know where he is. But I do know that you know where his men are, and that they may know where he is. Where they both are.” She looked at the man with an expectant grin, “Who do know who I’m speaking of, don’t you?”

“Y-yes. Miss Qui-“ A finger was pressed against his lips as she moved closer in a seductive sort of motion.

“Yes is enough. Now, tell me, Gerald…love, where are the men of our mutual friend?” She sat down firmly on his leg and he moaned in pain. “I don’t like to ask more than once.”

---

“All he had were dead ends. Roads already traveled.” Trixie was wiping blood off her knife as she walked away from the warehouse district, the smell of smoke in the air. A growl sounded in her mind and she sighed, so very annoyed.

“I didn’t tell ya ta kill him!” She heard, then smirked a much too amused smirk.

“I know babe, that’s why I took care of it. Because you were being an idiot.”

“He was important, Trixie! Someone will notice!” Another growl. Miss Goody Two-shoes was angry.

“That’s why I-“ An explosion sounded behind her and she smiled, “-used Wade’s gift. No one will have a clue what happened to him. Relax.”

“If ya get me locked up in Arkham again, so help me Trixie, I’ll-“

“What?” She asked, amused, “Kill yourself? Fat chance. We’re in this together sister, like it or not.”

“Let me out. Now!” The growl echoed in her head so loudly she stumbled slightly, placing a hand on the wall to brace herself as she grimaced.

“Oh come on, Trin. You never let me out for anything but bloodshed anymore. We have other needs you know. Just because you’ve gone all chastity since-“ The sting was felt by both of them, right in the ticker. How annoying. “Just let me find a man first. One good romp will set us right, maybe even-“

“No. Let me out!” A sigh so heavy oozed from her lips it was as if her soul were leaving her body. Resignation, full resignation. In an instant the tan faded, the tattoos morphed, the hair color bleed and the violet receded from her eyes. Joints cracked and popped as her pale arms reached for the sky, her dark red locks falling into her eyes. “Thank ya.” Her hands roamed over her crimson, satin corset and down her black skirt. straightening them out. “An’ next time, lotion before the leather. You’re tearin’ our skin ta shreds with that shit.” Her soft, smooth voice mumbled, clearly still stuck in the physical relief of being out. A husky laugh echoed in her mind.

“So where to now? Back to the big apple?” The whine mixed with annoyance was clear.

“No, not yet. We’ve still got more business in Gotham, so for now, we’ll go back ta the hotel. Tomorrow night, we’ve got another man ta see.” Trinity sighed, already tired of all these dead ends. Trixie, on the other hand, practically purred with delight. Another night in Gotham meant another night of fun for her. But the bloodshed was taking it’s toll on Trinity. /You’re not your parents,/ the thought floated through her head, to which Trixie chortled.

“No…not yet.”

==========

HUNTER: "Are you sure this is a good idea, Hunter?" Titus shifted uneasily on his seat while he drove. Hunter was busy by the passenger seat, looking through his notes as he scribbled furiously his additional thoughts. His handwriting was jumbled up and the paper filled with scribbles and squiggly lines instead of his ideas. Hunter sighed and leaned back on his seat, instead looking out the window to admire the view. Gotham was just moments away, he could already see from the horizon. "We'll figure it out," he replied in a quiet voice as they finally reach the city.

---

The hotel they had reserved was true to its word. The place was well-lit and its decorations simple yet elegant. Hunter almost shrugged as the fancy environment reminded him of his trips with his mother and his uncle. They weren't his fondest memories. As he and Titus accept the key card from the reception desk, the two with their stuff went to the elevator. The door almost closed, and noticing there was someone inside he called out, "Wait up." He hit the open button which caused the doors to open. Titus grinned happily and stepped in first, followed by Hunter. He pressed floor number 4. Hunter held onto the straps of his bag and looked around casually.

He couldn't help observe their other companion. Her hair color was quite an attention stealer. Hah, a thief's attention is stolen, he thought to himself the corny joke. Titus was obviously just as attracted, even worse than Hunter was. Hunter glared at him, daring him to not do anything. Titus was about to open his mouth to say something witty to impress the girl, perhaps, but Hunter knew it wouldn't work. Titus returned Hunter's glare until the 'ding' of the elevator sounds. The doors swung open and Hunter grabbed Titus's arm to save him from the embarrassment. "Nice to meet you too," Titus forced and waved goodbye to the woman while Hunter dragged him out. So much for saving Titus from embarrassment.

==========

TRINITY: "And why the hell, exactly, are we staying here?" The voice rumbled in her mind as Trinity pulled a suitcase from the back of her emerald green '69 Mustang, the color of the car matched her natural hues perfectly. She shut the trunk and sighed at the annoyance roaming her mind.

"Because I said so, that's why. Now quit your bitchin'."

"We have a place in Gotham, already. A glamorous, well-equipped, place. With feather pillows and-"

"An' every baddie an' his mother in Gotham who want us dead know where it is, don't they? I wonder who's fault that is." Trinity bit back with annoyance of her own.

Trixie wasn't the type to show shame, in any form. Instead, her response was something of a...moan. "But you didn't see him, Trin. He was gorgeous! And fit, and oh god, he was h-"

"What he was, was a spy! Somethin' I could have told ya if ya hadn't blocked me out the second ya spotted him."

A resigned sigh emitted from the voice inside her head, and then silence. Trinity knew well that that meant Trixie was pouting in a corner. She took this as her opportunity to check in with silence in her mind.

---

The man behind the desk arched a brow at her, his fingers pausing over the keyboard as he stared at the woman before him. Ah, that look. Trinity hadn't missed it in the slightest. It seemed everyone in Gotham knew who she was by face alone. This would have been a good time not to come in as herself, but a girl had to have hope...however hopeless it might be later.

"You said...Smith? Heather Smith?" The man looked at her in utter disbelief.

"Yes, Smith." Her tone was sharp, but her smile never faltered. "Is there a problem?"

Gulping, the man quickly shook his head and got to work. In a matter of minutes she had the key to the penthouse suite in her hand and she was making her way over to the elevator. She wouldn't be able to stay more than a night here. The man was terrified of her, yes, but no one in Gotham had even a tiny peck of honor in them. He'd squawk like he was paid for it at the first sign of questioning.

A heavy sigh emitted from her lips as she leaned back against the back wall of the elevator, her suitcase tucked against the wall beside her. When she heard a shout from the lobby as the doors began to close she stretched her leg out, a Converse clad foot interrupting the closure of the doors enough to cause them to open again.

Trinity had been raised for this town. She was a pro at observation, especially while looking completely unfazed. Even with her eyes on the chipped black nails she held in front of her, the glances from the men who entered, and the one man's smirk, were far from lost on her. Slowly, a smirk of her own crept onto her face. Mentally she was almost daring the man to make a move, curious as  to what he thought he could do to catch the attention of a Gotham girl, because it was obvious from the second they entered that they were not from Gotham. Sadly for her, a significant gaze from one of the other men cut him short.

That's when she chose to glance at the man, curious as to whether is look of warning to the other was a 'were not here for that' sort of look, or a 'don't you know who that is' kind of look. Trinity's money was on the former. As the doors opened the man she'd held her gaze on forced the other from the elevator and she chuckled at the poor man's words as they left.

"Ya ought ta listen to that one, sugar." Trinity said with a tilt of her chin in the direction of the man who held his arm. "This is Gotham, which is precisely why I'm the last person you should be glad ta meet." Her gaze quickly flitted from man to man, her smirk growing a little wicked. "Too bad for it, really..." Raising a hand to wave her fingers playfully at them, a small wink to the man who'd intended to hit on her, she cooed "Welcome ta Gotham, boys."

==========

HUNTER: Titus' mouth was agape, as he only waved goodbye to the woman, not a single dumb word escaping his lips. That's a good thing, Hunter thought and shrugged. "Did you see the way she looked at me? Ahh," Titus' legs felt wobbly and he barely managed to stand, much less walk after Hunter. Too tired from their drive and from glaring at his bud, he just took Titus' arm and dragged him roughly to their room.

"Ouch," Titus complained as he rubbed the slight throbbing on his arm. Hunter ignored him as he unlocked the door to their room. The two men made their way inside, and without wasting a second, began to set their stuff up. Titus worked on securing their room, filling it with audio-visual bugs in places no one would think to look. Hunter was on the bed, his laptop pulled out as he began to hack into the hotel security. Consider them paranoid, but it was obvious that they weren't from the neighborhood. The least they could do was make sure they had eyes in as many places around them as possible, in case someone decided to snoop around and ask why they're in Gotham in the first place.

Titus wiped an imaginary bead of sweat off his forehead as he placed the seventh and last bug they had allotted for their room. "All done, pal," he said as he landed beside Hunter with a soft thump. Titus grabbed the remote and turned the TV on. "How's the hacky pokey dance?" Titus whistled as he flipped through channels. Hunter was almost done, and with a final key, he pressed enter and his screen became filled with live footage of the hotel. "Finished with a pirouette on top," he grinned in satisfaction as fell flat on his back.

Thoughts of the danger they were going to face swirled in his mind like a tornado. Sure, their lives were always on the line; that comes with the job no doubt. What bothered Hunter most was their lack of information on Gotham, how the city's system worked and how the people here interacted with each other. They will have to find a resource person, someone they could trust, in the loose sense of the word.

Hunter fished a small piece of paper tucked in his pocket. He read it over and over, as if he hadn't already memorized it before they came here.

Midnight Delirium.

Two words, which were their sole lead in finding Timothy Bradshaw's grave and digging up the skeletons that came with it. Something about its name haunted him, but perhaps it was just his paranoia kicking in. And also the tiresome drive they had all day. Hunter glanced at Titus only to find him snoozing quietly. He eased the remote away from his friend's grip and switched to a local news channel. His mind and body were already weary, but hey, it wouldn't hurt getting to know more about Gotham. He could use the information for tomorrow endeavor. He sat upright and leaned his back against a pillow, as he allowed himself to be doused in the words of the reporter. "In tonight's news flash..."

==========

TRINITY: As the doors of the elevator shut Trinity laughed a loud, hearty laugh. Oh, the look on the man's face: priceless. Even the voice gave a hearty laugh to the way he'd been struck mute. Messing with men would never, ever, get old. For either one of them.

---

With a heavy, relaxed sigh Trinity stepped out of the bathroom, snuggled up in the soft robe with a towel wrapped around her hair. "I don't give a fuck what ya say 'bout this place, that shower is fuckin' awesome." The voice chuckled in response, 'Yeah okay, it was good.' It agreed.

Trinity plopped down and turned the TV on, mildly curious as to whether or not their earlier adventures would make the news yet. Trinity had hoped not, but Trixie was crossing her fingers for coverage. Her timing couldn't have been better. Just as she got to the news station the words "Breaking News" flashed onto the screen, and the report began.

"We've just been told that an explosion heard in the Warehouse District earlier tonight turned out be some kind of home-made bomb." The serious yet surprised tone of the woman's voice caused Trinity to roll her eyes. "Authorities on the scene were witnessed removing a body from the fire, which seems to have been at the center of the explosion."

The report switched to the male anchor, "There are speculations that this was some kind of suicide-bombing attempt, however the man found is thought to resemble Barry Witshire, a known accomplice of the infamous Joker. Now, neither Joker nor his sidekick, Harley Quinn, have been seen in many years. However, is it possible that this is a signaling of their return? Or, perhaps, could it be the work for their eldest -and only living- daughter, Trinity Quinn?"

"Fuck me!" She shouted, sitting up right and pulling the towel from her hair just as an image of Trinity from her modeling days flashed onto the screen. She had far less tattoos and was only about 18, but it was her all the same. The voice in her head shrieked with laughter, 'OH MY GOD! Did you really look like /that/?! This is priceless!'

The female anchor continued, "Trinity, ex-owner of Stardust Modeling Agency and current club-owner of Midnight Delirium has had her own run-ins with police from a young age. Including a stint in Arkham Asylum following the murder of her sister, from which she earned her release. While Miss Quinn has never been formally accused of any crimes in her adult life, there has been a constant fear from all law enforcement agencies that she may, one day, follow in her parent's footsteps."

The male took over again, "The commissioner denied to comment on the events at hand, but did say that there was no evidence to indicate Trinity was in anyway involved, as she hasn't been seen in Gotham since she moved to New York City."

Trinity shut the TV off and groaned, chucking the remote at the wall. "I fuckin' told ya, dammit!" She yelled, to which the voice groaned in annoyance. 'Relax, it's purely speculation.' Crossing her arms as she breathed deeply, Trinity shook her head slightly. "Either way, you know what this means." The voice practically whined, 'Really? Do we have to?'

"I won't have those fuckers in my club, Trixie! An' Ed doesn't have spine enough ta keep 'em out." Trixie could protest all she wanted, Trinity was settled on it. Trixie wouldn't have her night out tomorrow after all. Trinity needed to be at her club when the vultures, or worse, came looking for quotes or information. She wouldn't have cops storming her club, ever.

==========

HUNTER: Hunter paid as much attention to most of the reporter's words, despite the tiresome journey he and Titus made. He wasn't the one who drove, but he did stay awake the entire time. He was about to dismiss the news when familiar words hit his ear: Midnight Delirium. He already had the remote at hand, so he quickly turned up the volume. His dazed state was no more; now he was alert as ever.

There were speculations on the return of The Joker and Harley Quinn with regard to the recent explosion, but then another suspect was put on the table. The picture of their daughter Trinity Quinn filled the screens momentarily then it was gone. Hunter felt like he was punched in the gut; he and Titus had just seen the woman on the elevator. "Shit," he mumbled to himself. He grabbed Titus and shook him, but his friend grumbled and pushed his hand away.

"Titus, you have to see this," Hunter tried to wake him again while his fingers flew across the laptop, researching everything he can about Trinity Quinn. There wasn't much about her that the reporter hadn't already told in summary. Further digging lead him to read about the woman's parents instead. Now that turned up a lot of files which didn't actually make him confident or comfortable of their presence here in Gotham. 'Why did I have to be such a curious lil' bastard,' he thought to himself as he read of horrific crimes done by Trinity's parents. His fingers were crossed that nothing too extreme greets them by surprise tomorrow.

'Isn't that the point why you're researching, Hunter? To be prepared?'

"Ha," he responds to his inner voice. So much for knowing. All Hunter was sure of now was this place is dangerous. He glanced to his side where Titus slept peacefully, whereas here he was seated with his laptop, deeming how he won't be able to sleep for tomorrow's endeavor.

---

"So wait, we're going clubbing to the hot chick's place?" Titus was filled with joy and energy.

"Did you forget the part about the explosion and violent murders?" Hunter scoffed at his friend, and immediately Titus was pale. The duo were both cowards, it just so happens Hunter was good at pretending he wasn't. Titus wasn't as fortunate. In his dark clothing, he looked like a dead body that was about to die. Exaggerated, yet accurate.

Hunter, on the other hand, in the same dark clothes of a shirt, jeans, shoes and his favorite leather jacket, he put on the calmest expression he could as the cab stopped at their destination: Midnight Delirium. "I feel hella delirious right now, H," Titus nudged Hunter. Before he could respond, the driver spoke, "That would be $23.50." Hunter shoved three $10 bills at the driver's hands. "Keep the change."

The thieves stepped out of the cab and into a whole new world of unfamiliarity as they made their way inside Trinity Quinn's territory.

==========

TRINITY: Trinity slept that night, but not well. The anxiety brought on with the idea of cops in her club showed itself in her dreams. Dreams that went from tussles with officers to dark streets littered with dead officers. Only two though, two in particular. The same two over and over, all over the street. It was less a dream and more a memory at that point. Then a wisp of silky blonde hair floated in front of her, an arrogant smirk, and a child-like glimmer in her eye. She tried to reach out for the girl, to stop what was about to happen, but there was no stopping the past.

With the bang of a fired pistol and a scream Trinity sat bolt upright in bed, drenched in a cold sweat. The bang was in her mind, the scream however was from her. She only knew because of the raw feeling in her throat. If anyone had been around to witness it, they'd see the pure whiteness to her eyes. Then a husky coo from her mind soothed her. 'It was just a dream, that's all.' Trinity released a shuttering gasp and with a single sniffle promptly made her way to the shower. She didn't care if it was the dark hours of the morning or what that meant for how much sleep she got. She needed a distraction, and her club was going to be it.

---

It was almost as if she hadn't even been away. She had arrived at the club before anyone else, per usual, and scared the living hell out of Ed by already being there. He thought she was there because of something he'd done. He's paranoia was hilarious. The hours passed as they got the club ready for yet another busy night and then finally, every thing was right again. Trinity was behind the bar serving drinks (and looking out for cops) and Ed was in the back having a panic attack.

There were hundreds of clubs in Gotham as well as New York, but Midnight Delirium remained in a class of it's own. It could be the fact that it was something of a hybrid, with both a lounge-like bar area as well as a high-energy dance floor area. Or, it could be the intoxicating energy of the place that promised an opportunity to lose yourself and truly /live/ for once. But most likely it was it's reputations. The most popularly known reputation was of it being unfriendly to officers. The more underground, and lesser-known one was for it being something of a hot-spot for the elusive and legendary 'meta-humans'. Some still didn't believe they existed, but if you wanted the chance to meet one, you eventually wound up at Midnight Delirium.

Whatever the reason that brought them in, the club was never short of bodies. Tonight was no exception. The music was loud, the crowd was pulsing, and even Trinity found herself in a sultry/sweet kind of mood. Of course flirting was always part of the job, but enjoying it wasn't usually. The fact that she'd gotten a few hours into business hours without a single cop-sighting had put her in the good mood. Perhaps her fears were all for naught.

Everything shifted slightly, however, in energy as well as mood when she spotted a pair coming into the club that looked strangely familiar. It took only a moment, however, for her to realize it was the same pair from the elevator the night before. A smirk slid onto her features as the voice in her head chimed in, 'My money is on coincidence.' Trinity chuckled and spoke under her breath, "Because ya believe it, or because-" The voice interrupted, 'Because I want to bone him.' Shaking her head Trinity asked, "Which one?" 'Either,' it replied, then moaned gently, 'or both.'

Trinity made her way to the far end of the bar, the less crowded end. She knew it was no coincidence, and if they were here for her she wanted to know why. "They aren't here for that, and ya know it." The voice groaned woefully. 'Are we going to have to kill them?' Trinity laughed more genuinely this time as she focused her gaze on the pair, her smirk growing slightly as if to call them in like a beacon. "Lets hope not."

She knew they'd notice her, because she knew they weren't here to party. They weren't dressed for it, stood out too much. She waited patiently until they did, and once she had the attention she'd beckon them over with a finger. Sure, it was more than a little seductive of an action, but she was trying to keep up the flirty mood as her facade until she knew what they wanted. She wasn't sure if they'd fall for it, but she had a feeling she could at least get some information out of the flirt. Even if he needed some...coaxing. When they approached, at last, she slid her teeth along her lower lip and giggled playfully, "Well well, what a surprise. Y'all aren't stalkin' me now, are ya?"

==========

HUNTER: Midnight Delirium stuck true to its name. It was unlike any club that Hunter had been to in his life, and that says a lot. Titus, on the other hand, was very drawn to the odd, electric environment which Hunter considered dangerously hypnotic. The pulsing music, bright lights, unfamiliar scents of liquor. Hunter's keen senses were experiencing massive overload that he struggled to keep his focus. "Who exactly am I looking for," he murmured under his breath as his eyes go back and forth while keeping 'a leash' on Titus. "Don't be stubborn, T, let me focus," Hunter gritted his teeth.

"But man, this place is the hots. It's perfect for me! And I know you kinda like it too. What's the term you use again?" Titus wondered, only to have his attention get caught by the girl from the hotel. "Holy crap."

Hunter frowned in his contemplation, "Titus, not n-" he glanced to his side only to find his partner walking toward a particular direction. He rushed after him, pushing through the crowd and putting a hand over his eyes just so the lights don't blind him. When he was closer to Titus, he could now see who his friend was walking toward to. "Oh," he mouthed and lingered right behind Titus.