Who: Joey and Iris
What: First(-ish) meetings.
Where: First the Gotham door, then Blake's pad.
When: Recently? While all of this Sam stuff is going down, I think.
Warnings: None except for language and possibly drugs on Joey's part.
[It was early. Annoyingly early, less than handful of hours of sleep
early. The fact that it was also a few minutes before noon might have brought judgment from the working throng of Gotham City, but Joey got most of his work done in the dark, so it wasn't uncommon for him to sleep well into the afternoon. The guy with the nice place, Blake, he hadn't yet taken Joey's presence personal... so Joey took the free luxury suite for what it was.
After that first party, there was little doubt that Blake should have thrown Joey out on his skinny ass, but the rich kid hadn't. Joey didn't know many rich kids, and in his old neighborhood anyone who had money was reason enough to hate on them, kick their ass, or bash the windows of their pricey cars with baseball bats. But Blake seemed different, or Joey was maturing, but the (newly)youngest Alexander took the situation for what is was. A big fucking favor. So he didn't steal anything from Blake's place, even if he drank some of the alcohol that he found in the freezer on occasion. He cleaned up after himself, mostly. Its not like he had a lot of things to occupy where he laid his head. There was a small pile of shoplifted clothes(tags still on) in one corner of the room where he slept. Joey did his best to clean up after himself, but still did kind of a shit job of it. When he ate, he ate out. When he stole, he took it from the streets. Joey looked at Blake Thorne's place as a kind of Switzerland, and lately he only came through in the early morning hours when it was time to crash after a long night of hustling drugs, stolen electronics, and counterfeit goods. If there was one good thing to be said about Joey Alexander, he landed on his feet real quick, time fuckin' travel or not.
So it was noon when he bundled up in a black winter parka and walked down half a block and around the corner to the nearest door that he'd found that led from Gotham to the Hotel. He rubbed his hands together, hissing warm breath on them before he reached for the handle and pulled the door open. The short-shorn blond of his head tilted, speculating like he might find somebody worth fighting just as possibly as he might find this lost sister named Iris. Gotham was fucked up, yeah? One only had to watch the fuckin' news to see that much.]
![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}