"Sometimes...Questions are more important than answers."
Vic Sage is a vigilante private investigator, who goes by the alias of The Question. He is a sometimes member of the Justice League, often coming to blows with the other members over his relentless pursuit of the truth and solving a case by any means necessary. His outlandish theories have led to other members of the League referring to him as a crackpot and a mad conspiracy theorist. And yet, his intellect, detective skills, and martial arts ability have been known to rival that of Batman.
A sound that was as much a scoff as it was a laugh departed from the raven-haired woman's lips at Victor's offered reasoning. With her, that was a good sign. There wasn't a very long list of people she didn't actively dislike, but he happened to be lucky enough to be on it. It only figured that he was just as left of center as every other idiot who made more than just her acquaintance.
"Glad that I gave you a fond memory, but I think you're assuming I haven't gone and found some dashing new lover boy in the time that you've been gone," she pointed out, slipping into that airy wistful voice that works on people who don't know her when she needs to act out of her normal self to get something done.
As if the joke isn't obvious enough, she scoffed again and shook her head. Exclusivity isn't a factor with her and she knows she doesn't need to say that. Putting all your eggs in one basket only ever leads to them breaking.
She opened her mouth to make a comment about the subs at the place they're heading to, but he's doing -something to her back. Jessica couldn't really process what it was, just that after he'd done it that knotted up sh*tty feeling running down her spine had vanished. It made her pause and blink at him once, a bit too unsure about how to feel about him doing anything at all. Jessica liked to sulk in her problems and avoid any and all assistance if possible.
"Yeah..." she offered skeptically as she straightened up a bit. Her eyes lingered on his for a half moment before she set the forward and resumed walking as briskly as any inhabitant of New York might. "Never do it again."
China, huh? Interesting.
A handful of seconds go by before she decided talking isn't off the table. "What trouble have you been up to? Anything interesting I should know about?"
There was something about passing out at her desk that seriously f***ed with her back. Jessica hadn't been able to get comfortable in her desk chair for the entirety of the time that she'd been awake. It was sometime well after noon, but she'd been among the living for far less time than any professional person should allow themself. There was a half finished can of syrupy sweet energy drink alongside her laptop. The stuff didn't work damn near quick enough. She still felt like crap.
The vibration alert from her phone drew her attention away from the laptop's screen and the spread of open files on her desk. If it was Trish nagging her again, she was probably going to put her fist through a wall purely on principle.
Unidentified number. As soon as she read the message, she knew just who it was.
How dramatic. Never mind the faint quirk of her lips that was almost a shadow of a smile.
The unpleasant c*cktail of smells that was New York air spilled through the window as she slid it up, poking her head out. It didn't take long for her critical eyes to spot him. Without his mask. Interesting.
"Hang on, Romeo," she called down with a flippant air of sarcasm in her tone. The dark haired detective disappeared from the window for but a moment. Only long enough to lock her door and throw on her jacket. Spontaneity wasn't high on her list of defining characteristics, but if she spent anymore time in her office she was pretty sure she was going to throw up.
A jump from the open window got her to ground level far quicker than the rickety elevator ever would've been able to.
"I'm hungry. Come on. There's a decent sub place down the street."
No 'good to see you!' or 'I missed you' with Jessica Jones. Niceties weren't her thing. But he already knew that.
"What brings you back to this sh*thole corner of the country?"
Jessica would've had to have been much further gone down the path of intoxication to miss certain...quirks present in Victor's mannerisms. The jelly bean earned a bit of an arched brow. Sweet tooth, perhaps? Hardly seemed like an easily expected vice for a hardened, conspiracy minded detective. But hey, who was she to judge? What mattered just a fraction more than his apparent favor for sugar happened to be his fluid string of banter. Jessica hid the faintest quirk of her mouth behind another swallow of the whiskey.
"Aliens, gods, secret governments /and/ the manager of the sh*tty coffee shop down the street? F***- I'm going to be on some kinda watch list now for associating with you, huh?" A dry crinkle of humor ran through her words. Jessica wasn't anywhere near drunk enough to laugh, but he was funny. She wanted to know more about him than that though. Prying never hurt, did it? Not as long as she kept what she said about herself close to the chest. "Most of the people I piss off are just pervy cheating spouses or douche bags that don't show up to court. Nothing too high profile. Let me guess. You've got some big fish under your belt? This whiskey isn't cheap, after all.." she added, tipping back another mouthful.
"I have a feeling it would inhibit my ability to offend people if they couldn't see my face, but thanks anyway," Jessica had a flicker of humor in her tone from the offer. She'd had more than her fill of crazy weird ancient sh*t over the past year though, so dabbling in any more of it was strictly off her list of things to do. Judging by the scrapes and general beat-to-hell look of his face, she gathered that he was probably as hands on with this job as she was. Behind the scrapes and bruises, she was getting a vibe of something uncomfortable. He probably wasn't all that fond of facing the world. She'd have to keep that in mind.
At least his sense of humor wasn't as nauseating as some of the people that she knew. He even earned a bit of a smirk playing to the corners of her mouth. "Lets just say I've seen a lot worse. I like to get a good look at the trouble I'm getting myself into, if I can." Victor, hm? Surprisingly normal name for a not so normal guy. "Enemies? Can't say I find that hard to believe. Most people aren't as understanding as I am when it comes to having their trash dug through." It was clearly a joke. Understanding was something Jessica Jones was not. "Piss off anyone important? I do love a good story." And a little insight on the range of work he did couldn't hurt. Call it professional curiosity. Jessica couldn't help it.
Watching a guy with no face proceed to peel off whatever weird fleshy material actually made him look like he had no face was pretty bizarre. But so was working with a blind ninja and a twerp with a glowing fist. All that considered... yeah. Peeling off the fake no-face whatever the f*** it was. Still pretty weird. What was weirder still was that he didn't seem all that grotesque looking behind the flappy fake skin mask. "Probably don't leave that...whatever-it-is sitting around. The last thing I need in this sh*thole is a flap of skin just hanging around."
Her kitchen, sh*tty as it was, provided a pair of glasses to accompany the booze and as requested, she poured him up his glass first, sliding it across the table for him before attending to her own. "So, you got a name or just the whole..." she traced a question mark in the air with her free hand to insinuate what she meant. "Not going to lie, I was worried you'd have some Phantom of the Opera sh*t under that mask of yours. Taking the whole secret identity thing pretty far, huh?" She asked as she took a drink.
"Holiday season and all," the raven-haired woman hummed, looking over the bottle a bit more closely. "Does the whole.." an offhanded gesture to the general face area. "Get in the way of drinking? Booze this nice probably deserves to go in an actual glass, and I might have two clean ones to spare." 'Tis the season, after all. Jessica wasn't all that opposed to the idea of sharing. Not to mention the fact she always liked to know a bit about the competition out there as far as her own line of work went. Or maybe that was just the best excuse she could come up with.