Summary: Amy stops traffic. Literally. Which somehow revs Roy's engine, anyway.

Location: Harlem - New York

Participants: Pandora , Arsenal

Rating: PG-13 (Strong Language)

Stopping Traffic

After the failed attempt to get the intel she needed to further help the G-Kings move against those crooked city councilmen - thank, Batman - Amy decided to search on the internet for any information she could find. After flaming Batman, of course... There was only a small opening of intel, yet she jumped on it immediately. The last thing she wanted was Adrian to be pissed that she and other old-bloods failed to a man dressed as a damned bat.

Here in Harlem, where the Harlem River Housing Projects residents are under pressure to find new housing within the next month is where Amy is running solo today. She's dressed in her typical gang-related attire: A tank top with screened custom symbols emblazoned on it, baggy jeans, a knit cap, and sunglasses. The woman ends up parking her car at the far end of a parking lot before moving to the trunk to pull out a large duffel bag full of cash. Sure, it looks suspicious, but she doesn't seem to care at the moment. The woman just had to 'tell' a bunch of ATMs to spew all of this cash so she could try and help these people. After retrieving the bag, she makes her way towards the housing project, needing to cross a busy intersection first to get there. Some people smile her way, knowing the crew she's with, while others glower and give her wary glances.

Rollin' Down The Street!

Smokin' Indo!

Sippin' On Gin and Juice o/~

That's right. Roy Harper, Jr. is currently pulling a massive U-Turn right in the middle of the street... since he just passed a busy intersection where there's some babe with some BODY that caught his eye.

Horns blare and somebody yells, "STUPID ARSE!" in their non-American accent, as Roy's "acquired" Mustang cuts him off in order to get headed back in the direction of the body that's filling up Roy's mind at this moment.

"Hey! Hey!" That would be Roy, somehow managing to drive, stand up in his seat, turn down the Snoop Dogg bumping on the radio and not crash into any of the other vehicles, as he slows his own car down to try and pull it right in the middle of this chick's path.

That should be impressive, right?

Amy goes on to ignore the traffic, and she's about to start walking the moment she sees an opening, but suddenly stops short as she sees that car pull a massive u-turn and head back her way... With a man standing in his car, driving, while trying to grab her attention. Well, he certainly succeeded at drawing her attention from her task. Yet, she smirks and calls out towards him in a tone that sounds unimpressed, "Real men know how to ghost ride the whip." Maybe she wants him to get hit by traffic. Maybe...

"Are you serious? And let some idiot hit my ride and scratch the paint? You look good, but not /that/ good." Roy drops back down into his seat and pulls the vehicle to a stop... right there in the middle of the streeet. He's not really caring about holding up traffic it seems. Because once the car is in park he's throwing open the door to hop out.

"MOVE IT!" That's accompanied by some loser in a Volvo and the blaring of its horn as he swerves to not hit the illegalt parked Mustang.

Roy just smiles and leans on his vehicle, once again trying to gain the attention of the fine ass walker. "You gonna' tell me your name before I get run over or...?"

The smirk on Amy's face fades quickly after his declaration of her appearance. Women... She watches him go through the act of stopping traffic, still trying to get her attention before shaking her head and offering an exaggerated shrug that is accompanied with, "Sorry, I don't look /that/ good." AKA: No name. A quick glance is offered to the held up traffic that is now blocking the intersection either side before she looks back towards Roy and juts her chin towards him. "But thanks for the little mess you made here," is indicated with the point of her finger before she moves on ahead to squeeze her way passed the idling cars with the very angry owners behind the wheel - cursing and honking a storm.

"Hey! Wait a minute! I'm workin' on somethin' here!" That would be all Roy has to say to the people that are probably having a fit about his antics. It's New York. This kind of thing should be happening every day! They should be used to it by now, right?! It doesn't seem like Roy cares, though, as he's already breaking off into a quick-step jog behind the female that refuses to give up any information. "Okay, okay. That's all good. We can just exchange names tomorrow morning. Nothin' wrong with a little anonymity, right?" Roy plasters on his signature smile and even has a bit of a hair toss in there for good measure.

When Amy realizes she has a bit of a tail, she rolls her eyes and tries to make her way across the street even quicker. Once on the other side, when he says his little 'anonymity' bit, she blinks, suddenly stops, and spins around on her heels. It looks like she's not going to tolerate that. "Listen, I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt being that you don't know who I am," and she's very happy about that right now. "But if you don't disappear in that flashy little car of yours that's an obvious call for masculine compensation, you're going to regret it." Was that a threat? Judging by the bitter tone and seriousness of her words, it is.

"Wow. Okay. I /was/ going to offer you a chance to release some of that pent up frustration but it seems that babes are a lot ruder in this city than I remember." Roy is holding his hands up to make sure that there's no hard feelings. Or that there's nothing about to be thrown at him by the chick. "Note to self. Babes do not like compliments or cars, anymore. They much prefer losers with no future." Roy is not about to just stand here and let this chick get the betterment of him verbally, but he doesn't want anything to happen to his father's car so... "Your loss." is all he says, before whirling on his heels to head back in the direction of his ride. "Hey! Hey! Get away from my car! This thing is brand new!"

New Yorkers. Go Fig.

Amy is about to speak up to protest Roy's words - possibly say something with the word 'dick' in it, but he's already moving back to his car. Finally... She moves her attention back on the housing projects in front of her and is about to go distributing that money to the residents when she feels that nagging sensation in the back of her head. That annoying device that tells her she did something wrong and should make up for it. What is it called? Oh, yeah, a conscience. So, the woman makes a quick dash inside the building, to where the front office is, deposits the bag, with a threat attached if the tenants don't get their cut, and then quickly makes her way back outside.

Seeing Roy is still there, by his car due to the traffic jam he caused, she cuts through the traffic again and makes her way to the passenger side of his mustang to get in. "Think it and you're dead," she warns him before adding, "Since you wasted my time, you're going to help me with something..." She can only imagine just how south that is going to get in his mind, but at least for the time being, she hasn't found a need to pull out her handgun on him. Yet.

"I'm sorry. I thought my car was... something about compensation? What was that you said?" That's right! Roy is going to be standing some ground right about now. He has to. But he's not standing so much ground that he's not going to let her get in the vehicle. She does still look kind of good. "And hol' up. What the hell. Wasted YOUR time? Do you know where I was headed when I had to pause my Snoop CD to drive allllll the way back here just for you to shoot me down? Somewhere very important! And now /I'm/ gonna' be late! So I don't know about doin' you any favors..." Pause. "Unless there's something in it for me?" Oh brother.

"Yes, because you /choosing/ to stop is absolutely my fault," comes the snide remark in return. "Where as I am actually working." The woman then reaches behind her and finally chooses to pull that gun out as she attempts to aim it at Roy's ribs in a casual manner. "There is. You get to go home without a bullet wound." Amy's really not one for subtelty, obviously. "Downtown. West fourth and Canal street. Now." Looking in his direction, she adds, "And don't test me." Really, this could have been avoided if she just hopped back in her car and went about her own business. So much for forethought there.

See, normally, the Dude in Distress would probably look afraid or something. But seeing as how Roy has a history of dealing with very crazy dudes with epic weaponry and abilities beyond the scope of humanity... shorty with a gun isn't exactly the biggest fear motivator. Still, though, he shifts gears and pulls the vehicle out of the small traffic jam without too much hassle.

He's actually chuckling though as he does this and starts heading in the direction that hs blatantly not the direction of Canal Street. "You have absolutely no scope of the mistake that you just made, do you?" Granted, he doesn't expect her to know. Or even really notice that the speed of the car is gradually increasing, as are the movements of the wheel. Bobbing and weaving in the natural progression of New York traffic.

"I'm only going to ask you once, because you're hot, to get that gun away from me." Reversal Threat!

It doesn't take long for Amy to realize that the car is actually going in the opposite direction than she directed. This doesn't seem to put Amy on edge though as the butt of the gun of hers nudges his side a bit more, which is also the response to his threat in return to her. "Not unless you do as I tell you. I don't like making victims and involving outsiders." There's a pause as she moves to kneel up on the seat and as she looks at him, its more like she's seeing through him for a moment as her eyes move in a hurried pace as though she were reading something, except that nothing is actually there. "Roy Harper," she then adds, on top of listing his address and registered phone number. Thank you cellphone! There's then a bright grin before the woman shakes her head and notes, "You have a virus on your cellphone. I'd blame all that porn you looked at." Okay, how did she know that? Her eyes then glaze over for a moment before she returns to looking at him and threatens lowly, "Do as I say, and I guarantee that you'll walk away. No injuries, without suspect, and no further trouble coming to you personally."

Raising an eyebrow, Roy looks over at her, whilst still weaving through the traffic at a speed that he should not be going on. It just happens like that. He's kind of that good. "I can't hear you until you don't have a gun pointed at me. Even if you do know who I am." Roy shrugs, not really sure about how this chick knows whatever, but he's not going to let himself be intimidated by a gun. Not with his history. "So if you want to put the gun away, sit back, take off your shirt and discuss things in a more becoming manner, then maybe I'll take you where you wanna' go." Still as casual as ever, though, Roy goes into his pocket to come out with his cell phone, which is scrolled through with a bit of a worried eye. "Dammit. I bet it was Bootylicious. That site had like fifty billion pop ups." Sigh. "I'm gonna' have to get the iPhone."

The speed they're going at doesn't seem to bother Amy, aside for the fact that if she were to want to get out of this, jumping out of the car going this fast is not the option to go, unless she wants to end up in the hospital... Yet, its funny how quickly the tables turn, and even the woman has to know when she's been defeated. Well, defeat isn't the proper term for it. Still, she pulls the gun away from him, but doesn't put it away or return the safeties. His comment on her removing her shirt elicits a quick turn of her head and an icy glare behind those shades of hers. But, she does sit down and take to staring out of the front window, occassionally shooting sidelong glances in Roy's direction when not mentally noting every new street sign that they pass. "Just do it," comes the final indignant comeback from her.

"Jesus, you sound like a Nike commercial." Roy rolls his eyes and continues to keep up the breakneck speeds that will likely get him pulled over by the police, if he's thinking about the local response time correctly. "So, maybe you should tell me what the hell's going on before I agree to help you do something that, I'm assuming from your tendency to carry around a gun, is so illegal that you need to bully innocent and devilishly handsome males you've just met and shot down to be your getaway car driver." Roy peeks down at the radio on the clock. "It usually doesn't take long for NYPD to respond to reckless driving calls." Hint!

"Nor does it take my people long to respond to where my location is." Double hint! But she hasn't seemed to pull out a phone or any other device to notify people. Maybe she has a GPS unit on her? Of course, she omits the part of additional guns probably being part of the occassion with her crew. "Crooked politicians, cops bent over their knees, and innocent people getting royally fucked up the ass," she tells him, but then shrugs and inserts, "Just another day in New York." She appears to be fine with making small talk for the moment, as she starts to see some familiarity to the neighborhoods they're passing. "Sometimes you need force to get your point across, even if its deemed illegal... Plus, with your not-so-charming remarks, you deserved getting wound up in this." Ouch.

"You have a nice ass. How is that not-so-charming?" Roy actually doesn't understand how it's not. Like at all. But the shrug is just wrote off in the midst of him whirling around two corners, slowing down and then pulling onto Canal street. Not long now! And probably far enough from the last location of speeding to no longer be a threat to any innocent bystanders. So no cops. "I've been in more shit than you can dream about, sweetheart. Trust me on this. Your little 'drive me here' scheme is less than child's play. It's like... I don't even know. Toddler Playdate?" Shrug. "I'll drop your cute ass off on the corner, but then I'm ghost. Sounds fair since you pulled a gun on me instead of asking like a nice Girl Gone Wild..."

This time the woman actually sighs and finally replaces the safety on her gun, putting it away. "I know it is," she notes lowly, even a bit solemnly - which is out of character for her. "Usually I'm the one behind the scenes and yelling at people for doing this shit and causing a scene... I could have just stolen this car if I really wanted to, you know." There's then a pause before she adds, "Seriously though, if you even dare want to get any women aside for the street scanks and whores, lighten up on the sexist commentary. Makes you go from cute to scumbag real quick." But then she shrugs and counters her own statement with a smirk. "If nothing else, you have successfully accomplished giving me your name and information without realizing it."

"And if I asked, you would have demanded that I flashed you first, right?"

"Guess that's what I get for spending the last couple years overseas. Now it's sexist to make jokes about the female anatomy. Y'know what? I'm just gonna' go back to Paris. Life was much easier then." Roy shrugs and slows down even more, since there's too much traffic to be drawing attention to himself as he gets closer to the corner that he's been debating on dropping off this woman at. "Uh, you can have my name. Not really carin' 'bout that. I was gonna' give it to you anyway. Along with my phone number. But we've already established that you're only interested in using me for my vehicle so..." Another shrug. That happens a lot when Roy is no longer trying to get into the pants of whatever female is nearest. "Since we're almost there and I'll probably never see you again... would you have flashed me?"

"This is New York," Amy laughs towards him. "If its not me with a gun, its another woman with a switch-blade or mace. Guess we're just too strong a breed for someone like you." The tone is actually joking though as she appears to relax a bit as the location draws closer and closer. And, hey, no unmarked vans that have men toting guns have appeared yet, so its safe to say that he is in the clearing too. "Pandora," she notes, not giving her real name. And to quickly counter anything funny he may add to that, she remarks, "No, you cannot see or go near my 'box'." Ha-Ha-Ha. Her immediate reaction would be a no to the flashing. But, she's never going to see him again, and he's already long since blown his shot with her, so she offers a simple, "Maybe," towards him. "I did park my vehicle a block away from yours. A rather expensive one that has some custom detailing to it." Which she is suddenly now regretting leaving in Harlem, dammit. "So, maybe it wasn't just the car. Maybe."

"Figures. All the fine females are always too sensitive. Oh well." Roy offers a bit of a shrug, before pulling to a stop about a block away from the desired location. He doesn't even put the car in park. Just kind of rides the brakes. "Okay, well, you're about a block away from wherever you're going to do your dirt. If you ever change your mind... just,well, apparently you already know who I am and all that. So I guess there's no reason to say look me up." He smiles. Kind of.

Once Roy pulls up to a stop a block away from her location, Amy straightens, preparing to leave. "Maybe if it were under different circumstances..." She lets that thought linger for a moment before turning to him and leaning over, sans gun, to try and plant a light kiss upon his cheek, if he were to not move away from her. Afterwards, she then moves to leave the car, stepping out onto the streets. Once she closes the passenger car behind her, she adds, "Take care of Lian," before stuffing her hands within her her denim pockets and proceeding to walk down the street. She doesn't seem to aim for a building though, but instead moves towards a dark alley between two shady and old looking store fronts.

Roy's all good with the kiss on the cheek. It lends itself to showing that he may still have some sort of a shot. Possibly. In the future. Maybe. "My life's work." is what he has to say in response to the female that's heading off towards what is probably a very dangerous and dark alley. Probably not a good place for her to be going. But! She is packing. Hrm. "Hey! Don't die!" is called out after her. "I can't be persistent if you die!" He puts his foot on the gas to start to pull off. So he doesn't get talked into waiting by his conscience.

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