14607/A place where not everyone may know your name. Yet.

A place where not everyone may know your name. Yet.
Date of Scene:	17 November 2022
Location:	Luke's Bar, Central Harlem
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Luke Cage, Black Canary

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Luke Cage has posed:
The weather is turning more brisk as fall continues to barrel its way toward the start of winter. Tolerably warm days lead to windy, chill nights. The sort of nights that make some look to get up to no good and others to seek out their local watering hole to get a drink to warm their insides and some non-committal conversation to raise their spirits.

Luke's Bar is one such place and the evening seems to be.. well not terribly busy for a Wednesday. Luke will be the first to admit it's a slow night. Usually mid-week tends to be slower and that's okay by him. Being busy every night would mean he'd have to hire a few more staff. A thing he really doesn't enjoy doing. So he'll trade profits for some slower nights.

Standing behind the bar, he refills a couple drinks and turns to look at the TV as the late news covers a fire in Hell's Kitchen before moving on to national politics. That's the point where he grunts and turns away to clean away some empties.

Black Canary has posed:
Her arrival is heard long before she hits the door, in the form of a familiar engine's roar. The bike parks in front of the door and the engine is barely off when the booted feet hit the pavement and stride quickly to the door.

So it comes as no surprise when the Black Canary strides into the place, in full regalia.

What might be more of a surprise is the tears in her fishnets, with some congealed blood. And that massive bruise starting to show across her right cheek.

"I've had one HELL of a night. What you got on tap, Luke?"

Luke Cage has posed:
Luke Cage knows that engine, or more correctly the exhaust. He's already taking down her private reserve bottle of bourbon from the top shelf behind the bar. By the time she is beside the stools on the other side of the bar, he has the bottle and a shot glass waiting for her.

"Canary. Looks like you handed it out well if your appearance is any indication." He isn't asking for details just observing in his own low-voiced and endearing (but is it really?) way.

"You want a beer to chase it down? I finally got my first shipement of that Evergreen Ale I flew out to Vancouver to learn about. Only bar in NYC offering it up. It's been well received." He offers it because it may seem like a bit of home on the wrong coast to the blonde Leaguer.

Black Canary has posed:
Canary grins at the offer. "Evergreen? You got Evergreen? Give me a pitcher of that and a fifth of bourbon you sweet, sweet man!"

She slips into the stool she's chosen as "hers" (when it's available) and looks over the bar, noting with amusement the stares. Like she's doing things for the staring...

"But yeah, it was a bit of fun. Sewer rats. Lots of sewer rats. Most of 'em about the size of great danes. Some of 'em about your size. One of 'em about the size of a horse. A big one." She chuckles. "New York had a bit of a vermin infestation problem. But I'm not talking elections now, so let's talk the rats instead."

Luke Cage has posed:
Luke Cage is amused, and no little bit pleased, by Canary's reaction. "One pitcher, sure." The private reserve is slid over to her place at the bar. "It's been waiting for you to visit. I think it's gotten lonely."

Turning away he checks on the others the bar before taking a pitcher to the tap to fill it. He lingers there to watch its progress but glances to Canary, as conversation continues.

"If it isn't the rats it's the spider or the 'gators. I've stopped thinking rumors and sightings were just vivid imaginations or drunken delusions. Can't say I've seen any that big but I don't doubt they're down there. Rumors say there are humanoid turtles around someplace down there too. You see any of them?"

Black Canary has posed:
"Nope, no gators or spiders or turtles." Canary pauses, then hastily adds, "THIS time, I mean. I've seen gators before. Well, one. King Croc."

The bourbon is taken back in a huge slug, followed by the first glass full from the pitcher.

"I remember once NYC was the place I went when I wanted less violence and darkness than Gotham. Are you guys letting the Gotham crazies in now or something?"

She sits back in the stool, wincing a little as a muscle objects.

"Damn, this was a good workout though. I should have called you, but ... you know. It was just a few rats. Until it was a whole lot more..."

Luke Cage has posed:
Luke Cage grunts in dubious belief. On the one hand, he doesn't doubt that Canary would call him if she needed back up, now. They've known each other for some time and have fought together. On the other hand he can completely see her diving in head first only to figure out too late she's gotten in deeper than expected when it was already too late.

"Well you know me. Just here wiping the polish off the bar most nights." Dryly he jokes, "It's gotten to the point that your reputation has kept even the boisterous customers quiet or from coming. They're all afraid you'll kick their asses in the ways they won't enjoy."

Black Canary has posed:
"Hey, any good-looking ones I'll kick ass in the way they enjoy," Canary says with a laugh. Followed by a wince. "Oh. Cracked. Didn't notice that earlier. Shit."

She pours herself another swig from the bottle and chases it away.

"There. All better!"

She eyes Luke. "I hope you're not serious about me driving off customers, though. I'd hate to feel that I was responsible for that. You've got a nice place here, and in a nice locale." Her eyes stray to the door that leads to the paired soul food restaurant. "I wouldn't want to be the cause of it being in trouble."

Luke Cage has posed:
Luke Cage eyes her back. "You haven't chased anyone off that wasn't already doing something to get themselves tossed out for good anyway. Don't worry over it too much." He watches the seemingly cavalier reaction to a cracked rib.

"I'd rather the bar have a reputation for an ass kicking JLA member than for beligerant bar flies who can't be assed to pay their bar tabs." He winks at her. "So that pitcher of beer is on me. This time. Now that I know you like it and you know where you can get it? I smell profit" he jokes.

Black Canary has posed:
"Hey," laughs Canary, "I'm feeling seen here!"

Another swig goes down her gullet.

"But yeah, you'll have profit if you have Evergreen. Home away from home you'll be. But ... how are you for an ass-kicking JLAer who doesn't pay bar tabs? Just ask Batman. I'm antisocial and don't play well with others."

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head. "Like he has anything to preach there!"

The swig is chased.

"But you know, your place would make a fine unofficial HQ for unofficial NYC watchers. Lean into the whole ass-kicking badass thing."