Jonathan was bored. Two weeks in Gotham, no more hazing and not much was going on. The school was boring, the crows weren't active after sunset - which was crazy early here - and he didn't have much else to do. So he went to a club. He needed cash for drinks so he sold some of his compound to people who looked like they wanted a high, dealing as subtly as he could, like he used to back in Georgia. Though it was harder here, gangs had a monopoly and all. He still managed to make enough to have a generous amount in his pocket as he purchased himself a bourbon from a very lax bartender who didn't bother to card him.

The music was loud and Jonathan sat there, sipping his drink, considering his next move. And then he made a potentially dangerous mistake. He knocked back one of his own pills.

His pills were hard to miss. They looked like candy corn and the bottom had a JC on it. He thought half the market was in the branding and apparently it was true. October and everyone wanted to buy from him.

Now he was almost all out and riding a high in a strange club where almost everyone was older than him and likely the gangsters would get word of his work. He should be scared or concerned, should have left but... well, he wasn't bored any more. He giggled to himself and knocked back his drink. Oh, he hoped he had trouble tonight.