14487/A Girl Like You, A Place Like This

A Girl Like You, A Place Like This
Date of Scene:	29 July 2022
Location:	Luke's Bar, Central Harlem
Synopsis:	Dinah visits Luke's bar for more than one drink. Discussions of heroism and safe trips home are had.
Cast of Characters:	Black Canary, Luke Cage

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Black Canary has posed:
It's been a rough night. An "I bruised my knuckles" sort of rough night. An "I had to scream so loud that steel shattered" sort of rough night. An "I accidentally cooked off a truck load of ammunition and as a result had to save the goons from their own bullshit ... while I was beating them down" sort of night.

Warrior harpy needs food badly.

And drink.

And what better place to do this than...

...Harlem?

OK, so the fight was in Harlem and it puts her nearby. And she'd heard noise about a place called Mama Chelsie's making the best soul food in the burrough. So she went there, but ... unlicensed. Food, yes, drink... not so much.

But there was a bar next door...

Dinah steps into the bar, carrying a large thermal bag seemingly filled to bursting. She looks around as her eyes adjust to the change of lighting, landing on the bartender. Pausing. Double-taking. Then, shrugging, she walks up to the bar.

"Hey, is it OK if I take some outside food in while I drink?" she asks.

Luke Cage has posed:
Making your way in the world today
Takes everything you've got
Taking a break from all your worries
Sure would help a lot
Wouldn't you like to get away?

Yeah. This really isn't that kind of bar. Sure, there are bar flies here, just as any other place. There are the standy by regulars who come in a few nights a week. And sometimes there are walk in's such as the case with the blonde bearing food.

Behind the bar, a nearly six and a half foot tall man with dark skin and eyes. He wears a gray tanktop and black jeans. When the blonde comes in with food, he looks up, studying the packaging. He'd know it anywhere of course.

He nods once, "Long as you're buying here, it's just fine."

"Heard some explosions earlier. Not usual for this area. Probably better to eat inside than out in your car or something at the moment" he observes. "What'll you have?"

Black Canary has posed:
"Yeah, I heard the explosions too. Weird. There's no ammo dump in Harlem, is there?"

Yeah, that innocent smile isn't fooling anybody. There's blind people who've never interacted with a human being before who'd be going 'that is just SO FAKE!' right about now.

"And yeah, I'm buying here. I'll be at that table for now. When I'm done eating, I'll clear it out and move to the bar. Bottle of your top shelf bourbon and a tumbler, please."

Luke Cage has posed:
Luke Cage arches a brow. "Ammo dump? No. They don't keep that stuff in the city limits" he observes. Whatever her reason or story, he doesn't push it. As long as trouble doesn't find its way inside, it really isn't much of a concern of his. Even if it will gnaw at the back of his mind. If it wasn't an ammo dump that left gangs and gangs in Harlem were kind of his business when he wasn't working in his bar. It would have to be looked into later.

He brings down a bottle as requested. "Here you go. Bottle'll run you thirty five." He picks up a tumbler and pauses, "Ice or straight?"

Black Canary has posed:
"Straight as an arrow," Dinah says with a wink. "If I wanted watered down booze, I'd drink at a fake Irish pub owned by three dentists as a tax write-off."

She wrestles one-handed in her coat until she pulls out a small roll of bills and peels out four. "Keep the change," she says, slapping 40 on the counter.

She looks across at the table, at the massive container in her hand, and at the bottle she just picked up in the other, capping it with the upside-down tumbler.

"Excuse me for a few minutes. I've got some carbs to inhale."

Which she does. There's enough for five meals in that container of hers, and she inhales it so quickly it might as well have been a single hamburger. And the booze she's guzzling should wipe out a linebacker, but she's half-way through the bottle and only looking mildly tipsy.

Someone has an impressive metabolism.

"OK, thanks for that," she says, packing away the remnants into the container and then relocating to the bar. "I get hungry after a hard workout."

Bruised knuckles. Abrasions. Quite the nasty bruise forming on her cheek. Tears in the stockings. Must have been quite the workout.

"So, you guys have a karaoke machine?"

Luke Cage has posed:
Luke Cage lets out a quiet snort, offering over the empty tumbler "All yours." Then he reaches for the bills, "Thank you." He walks over then and rings it up on the register, tucking the cash inside the drawer. He doesn't pay her much mind after that. She'd bought more to drink than a lot of the regulars did.

He serves several other customers and otherwise busies himself, though he spares a few glances toward the TV that has flipped to local news coverage of a fire burning no more than eight blocks away. A garage is engulfed in flames, the destroyed remains of a delivery van sitting in front of it, gutted and ripped open like tissue paper.

He shakes his head but turns to restock the beer 'fridge with bottles. When the blonde comes back over, he glances up. "Sure. I never mind when someone gives Mama business. She can always use it" Not thinking of himself just the others in the burrough.

A frown at the worse for wear look of her knuckles and attire. His gaze turns to the TV again. Until she asks about karaoke. "No karaoke. I think you want the fake Irish pub owned by four dentists for that."

Black Canary has posed:
"OK, I think this is going to be my go-to place when I'm in Harlem then. Decent bourbon. Good policies on food. Nice bartender. I'll be like a recurring guest star on that dumb show about a bar."

She looks at the television and winces a bit. "That kind of crazy shit happen often here?" she asks, almost as if hoping it did by the tone in her voice. "I mean it's gotta be kinda disruptive. You got a gang problem here?"

Luke Cage has posed:
Luke Cage snorts again, "You obviously haven't met me yet."

He aims a measured glance at her, "This isn't a Cheers bar. Just a small local watering hole." He sees her reaction to the news coverage. "The sort of watering hole that likes to keep its head down and keep trouble outisde." He shrugs a large shoulder, "Gangs are everywhere. It's New York City. Generally they aren't trying to blow themselves or each other up." His gaze falls to those knuckles and that bruise on her neck. He keeps any suspicions or opinions quiet however. A bartender listens to opinions and troubles, he doesn't voice them unless there is a risk to the bar.

Black Canary has posed:
"I think I just met you. You shoot straight. You're not a schmoozer. You're fair-minded. You got community spirit. That makes you a decent guy in my book."

She looks around the place, with a critical eye.

"And yeah, it's a watering hole. But you're taking pride in it. This could be a shit dive and it'd blend right in, but you're not letting it be. Again, decent guy."

Her eyes swivel back to Luke. "I'm gonna guess it's named after you. You're not just the bartender, you're the owner. Am I close?"

Luke Cage has posed:
Luke Cage listens while walking over to a recently vacated table to grab the empties. He sets them on a tray then wipes the table down thoroughly. He brings the empties back and tosses them into a recyling bin with the telltale clatter of glass on glass.

"Something like that, sure" He says of her assessment of the place and the effor to keep it from turning Total Dive.

A nod. "That's me. Luke Cage" he offers. Then a nod to the TV "Bar's named after me. The way you're giving that coverage serious side-eye says you had a hand or two in some part of that. Knuckles and throat kind of back that up. I've seen my share of street fights." It's all he says about his conclusions.

"Not my place to tell anyone what to do, least of all Black Canary. Long as that shit stays outside and doesn't hurt anyone from the burrough, who doesn't deserve to be hurt, it doesn't concern me." He offers over a meaningful glance as he washes his hands after busing the table.

Black Canary has posed:
"I have no plans of stirring shit in your bar, Luke," Dinah says, not denying the moniker. "And yeah, I had a hand in that. It's why I'm so freakin' hungry. Well, was. Tell Mama she cook fine."

She snorts and pours another tumbler of the bourbon.

"There wasn't supposed to be an explosion. It was supposed to be nose candy, not plastique and bullets and shit like that. It got a bit rough. I ... don't like blowing things up in residential neighbourhoods. Makes me think I screwed up something fierce. But I contained it and saved people from burning to death, so ... little glitch aside it was a good night."

Luke Cage has posed:
His eyes narrow when she owns up to having a part in the explosions. When she explains as much as she does, the gaze eases up. "Can't say it thrills me. Having that kind of shit go down in Harlem. But we don't get to pick who moves into the neighborhood a lot of times." He shrugs and leans a large forearm on the bar. "Keeping everyone alive is good. A lot wouldn't even try." He glances back to her, "Thanks for that."

Black Canary has posed:
"I'm not a psycho, Luke. Nor are you." She smiles. "Yeah, I put it together. Was it a test? Did I pass?"

She rubs her face then as weariness sets in. "But you're right. We can't decide who invades our turf. We can only mitigate the damage. And I don't like causing more."

She shakes her head wearily and downs another half-tumbler.

"There's a reason I'm drinking, Luke. I had to save lives of people actively trying to kill me. Calling me conflicted on that point is mild. But I did it anyway. She holds up an ironic thumbs-up. "Yay me."

And another batch of booze is sent down into her gullet to explode in her brain.

Luke Cage has posed:
Luke Cage smirks. "Like I could test a member of SHIELD or the League. I'm strictly small time by comparison. I just try to do right by Harlem and those who need someone to stand up for them." He nods. "It's a bitch when we have to save them. But we don't do what we do to kill them. I sure as hell hope we don't or I've been doing it wrong with no plans to change" he adds with a smirk.

He glances to that additional drink. "You may be JLA. But after a half bottle of bourbon even I don't drive home. You need me to call you a ride?"

Black Canary has posed:
"Half? I don't stop until the bottle's empty," Dinah scoffs. "But don't worry about the ride." She taps her ear. Well, close to her ear. She's a bit inaccurate so it's more the back of her head, ear-ways. "I'm a call away from being picked up and taken home. JLA, remember?"

She chuckles.

"Of course then I listen to endless lectures by people who are "concerned" about me and think I might have a "problem" and and and."

She makes a wry face and looks up at Luke. "Sound familiar in any way? You're a bit of a Hell-raiser yourself way I hear it."

Luke Cage has posed:
Luke Cage shrugs. "You can stop when you want, lady. I don't give a shit if you drink yourself blind. As long as you don't do it in my bar, or drive home." He watches her, "There is a valid school of thought that regularly downing an entire 5th of bourbon in one sitting is pretty much the exact definition of having a problem." He shrugs and pushes off the bar to move down to cash out one of the other customers. A few quiet comments to the man and he walks back "Sure. I raise hell. When I'm not working. Here or in the neighborhood."

He regards her thoughtfully, "Probably get myself in all kinds of trouble with you" he adds with a smirk.

Black Canary has posed:
"I don't regularly down an entire fifth, Luke," Canary says, grinning. "Just on special occasions."

She shakes her head and then steadies herself.

"Just the amount of effort and energy I expended to save people who were actively trying to kill me just moments before gives me a headache. I'll be fine when I work through the hangover tomorrow."

She cocks her head and regards Luke anew. "What kind of trouble? You figure on teaming up with me next time I'm in Harlem? I'm down for that. Meat shields are always good to have in a fight."

Amusement flickers in her eyes.

"But that's probably not the trouble you were talking about."

Luke Cage has posed:
Luke Cage shakes his head, the half smile fading, "Well the thought may have crossed my mind. But since I'm just a 'meat shield' I think you're on your own." He heads out from behind the bar to bus another one of the tables. He glances to the clock and calls out to the few others left in the bar, "Last call. Get it now. We close in 30." He busses the table's glasses into the back room to be washed before emerging again to add tips to the register idly.

Black Canary has posed:
Dinah sighs and faceplants on the bar a moment.

"Aw, shit, Luke, I didn't mean it that way. I just use 'meat shield' to mean 'big strong guy'. Supes is a meat shield under that heading. I'm putting you in the same category as him. You know, like I'm a glass ninja, Fire is a walking barbecue and Batman is Broody McBroodface."

Beat.

"He's in his own category. If you meet him you'll know why."

She takes a deep breath and releases it as a deep sigh.

"Sorry, though, if I made you feel disrespected. It wasn't cool of me."

Luke Cage has posed:
Luke Cage looks over, shaking his head, "I'm not anywhere near Superman's category for a whole lot of reasons, Canary. Or most of the League or SHIELD and I'm fine with that." A dismissive hand gesture is made regarding the term, "I'm already past it. Whatever you may think you are or aren't, I'm going to say that was the bourbon talking." He looks at her a moment before he gives her a nod and another half smile "But thanks. We're good."

He studies her actions and mannerisms, "You sure you don't want a ride home when you go? I don't like the idea of you out there and this empty in here. Doesn't sit well with me. Your bike will be safe here till you're ready for it."

Black Canary has posed:
"Thanks."

Dinah pauses a moment to see if she can pick together words that won't make her sound like a bitch.

"I'm a call away from teleporting home. They'd even go fetch my bike if I asked, but ... how 'bout I leave that with you and come back when I'm deep in my hangover so you can see I hurt myself more than I hurt you."

She finishes the last of the bottle and stands up.

Well, sort of stands up. There's about an 8 degree list to the right. It's not growing, though.

She taps a spot behind her ear. Then tries again and taps ahead of her ear.

"One to beam home, Scotty!" she says, breaking out into a drunken giggle ... as she vanishes in a flare of light.

Yeah, Batman's going to lecture her about misues of JLA resources, but it's WORTH it!

Luke Cage has posed:
Luke Cage nods, "Sure. It'll be here when you're ready come get it." Then she is teleported out of the place and he shakes his head.

"Damn."

He turns to begin wiping down the bar. Even after closing, he'll have a few hours of clean up before he gets to make his own walk home to fall into bed.