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    Dika pushed past the heavy wooden swinging door and stepped into the well-lit bar; putting out a hand to decline the offer from coat-checker, he was fine keeping his with him. He looked around and thankfully saw an empty stool near the far end of the bar. He headed toward it as he unbuttoned his blazer. He got to the stool, sat on it with a sigh, and laid his blazer in his lap. He looked at everything on the shelf behind the bar as he undid his sleeves and rolled them up past his elbows and began to think about what he wanted to drink. He wondered for a while as the bartender motioned an upheld finger at him, indicating him to wait. Dika was in no hurry so he waved back at the bartender nonchalantly and continued to eye the bottles. He saw a familiar bottle on the shelf; recognizing it's yellow cap and too-big label. He smiled at the thought of a Venezuelan Cuba Libre; he hadn't had one in actual years.

     

    The bartender approached him and returned the grin. [npc]Something catch your eye I'm guessing?[/npc]

     

    Dika nodded and pointed to the bottle.  [dika]"I'm sorry, I don't know the word. The little bottle, the bíter, yes right there. Do you know what I mean when I ask for a Cuba Libre Preperado?"[/dika]

     

    The bartender nodded, grabbed the bottle with one hand and a glass with the other and set them both on the bar in front of Dika. [npc]I know what a Cuba Libre is, we call it what it is, rum and coke. You want a fancier one, with bitters and gin.[/npc] The bartender emphasized the word as he tapped on the bottle in front of Dika, then turned to grab the gin. He pointed to the rum closest to them and asked [npc]Light or dark rum?[/npc]

     

    Dika shrugged, never really caring for the difference between a Preperado and a Preperado de Oro, so instead he offered  [dika]"Whichever you recommend."

     

    The bartender nodded, grabbed the dark rum, and came back over to Dika. He began to ask about Dika as he started to mix the drink. [npc]What brings you in tonight bud?[/npc]

     

    Dika gave a smile at the question, eyeing the bartender hard. He was cute but young, grinning happily but clearly tired; and worst of all, he was charming but it was his job to be so. Dika decided to keep his charm to himself and slyly said  [dika]"Why does any man come into a bar? To have a drink, unwind, and get loose with others doing the same."[/dika]   Dika reached for his finished drink just as the bartender added the straw. He picked it up, took a taste at the rim, and grinned. Dika held the glass up to the bartender in thanks, said  [dika]"¡Salud!"[/dika]   and turned his back to the bar, scanning the crowd for eye candy to ogle over the edge of his great drink.

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    • 2 weeks later...
    Guest Murphy Cheyenne McCallister

    Murphy had left her parents cabin a week ago, after being fussed about and the things parents do, she was ready to get into the city and settle down. She had not yet reported for duty because she still had a few days of medical leave left. They give you that when you decide to  step in front of a bullet. The up side is it was a through and through, and other than fussing and that sling she tossed days ago, she was fine. 

     

    Sometimes in the line of work people get stupid and shoot. It is a hazard of the job. Usually, you can go most of your career avoiding that fun time but it does happen. Murphy's old partner always said she was never gonna avoid it because she just never considered not stepping in. That can be called brave or crazy but it has helped her rise in her old department to the position she craved. The thing is she hated uniforms, and being able to not wear the blues was definitely worth the extra ouch she ended up with sometimes.

     

    Then again when you are a tall girl with a lanky length of muscle and a good eye with your weapon ( and sometimes good sense) you can make those things happen. Murph was determined and stubborn,  She never ever let obstacles stop her. If it existed it was only to help her learn or be stronger. That came from her parents and the culture, you do not see the path as strewn with mountains, you see what you must get past to get where you want to be.

     

    And to be, was her amiable self-locating a bar and getting a drink.  The docs had sworn her off anything fun till she healed, and she got that, but the night lent itself to just a drink and maybe music. Murphy enjoyed those times without duty or responsibilities. Just go out and let the shade of normal wrap you up. Never mind you are a cop even when you are not on duty, just be a girl in a city.

     

    Of course, the way she walked in and help purpose in those steps kinda gave away any idea she was a wilting violet or some usual bar fly. Murphy spotted the bar and made her way to it, it was done nicely and the lighting was just right. Before she sat down, she shrugged out of the jacket and laid it on the bar. Lifting a hand she grinned to the tender, waiting till they were not busy before she would order a whiskey.  The sounds of the bar were muted in a way, she was guessing it was the way they built the place, allowing conversation without too much heavy music vibing over it. 

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    Dika saw the tall brunette with too much hair walk in the door, strut over to the bar, and order a whiskey. She had a confident air around her that he could appreciate, but it seemed to be honed rather than simply natural. He studied her out of the corner of his eye as he sipped at his drink and saw everything he need to in order to strike up a conversation. She was empowered, that much was clear, but he wondered about a discrepancy he saw in the field surrounding her. He set down his drink, tapped her on the shoulder, and asked  [dika]"Pardon my intrusion, but are you okay?"[/dika]   He knew something was wrong, but couldn't put his finger on what; so instead he simply asked.

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    • 2 weeks later...

    March 22nd

     

    Yen opened the door, pushed it hard, because the door was heavy and Yen wasn't.  She did not EVER go to bars.  But as her police training had progressed, she had learned that she needed to be something more than just a "couch potato" (which wasn't really a very apt metaphor since her small, one-room flat didn't even have a couch [and if she had had one, Salty and Coal would surely have claimed it]).  

    This was simply "research", or that was the way Yen explained it to herself.  So, using her textbook learning, she looked carefully at the occupants of the bar, including the bartender.  

    Now, she really wasn't good at this and it was not like she was some kind of crafty, insightful person.  All she saw was this big guy staring at a pretty woman, and the bartender staring at the pretty woman, and the pretty woman seemingly happy with that state of affairs.  

    Yen walked past them all, saw the sign on the wall for the "Ladies Room" and went inside.  It was clean, which was sort of a surprise.  Yen used the toilet, cleaned her hands and went back out.  She got the bartender to get her a tomato juice (which she really didn't much care for but she couldn't think of anything else to order).  She paid for it, and that was shock number two: it was way too expensive.  

    She took her drink to an empty chair with a table and sat down to drink--and to practice "police craft."  The big guy was a bit old and obviously strong.  But was he something more than that? Criminal? Enhanced human? Maybe even some kind of conjurer?  Since staring was impolite she concentrated on her very thick and red drink.  It had ice cubes in it and those were cold (obviously), which didn't really please Yen either--it was cold outside too.  

    Yen wasn't sure yet how she felt about NYC but she was very certain about how she felt about NYC weather--she hated it.  

    Because Yen wasn't a drinker, wasn't a bar person, she really couldn't even guess what the pretty lady was drinking, nor the guy.  Having done her "observations", Yen pulled out her police academy textbook and began to study.  She would have been happier studying almost anywhere else, but one thing about Yen was she was disciplined.  The English text was hard, but slowly getting easier.  She didn't even have to stop to use a dictionary for words in every line now. Every once in a while she looked up and those two were still there.    

    There was one other thought Yen had: it was sort of related to the price of the tomato juice.  The price of her police academy textbook was also way, way too expensive.  Yen was hoping some nice man would walk up to her and give her a paper bag (big one hopefully) filled with money.  

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    • 4 weeks later...
    Guest Murphy Cheyenne McCallister

    Being a cop of any sort, when someone reached to you, it was natural to rurn. Which led to spotting the fellow offering concerned questions. With a wry smile she shrugged her good shoulder and continued to adjust her stool. “Ah, just got a lil banged up. It all sounds like a good idea till someone needs bandaids” Murphy offered in reply as the tender got her order. “Thanks for askin” She supposed it was kinda clear she still favored it a lil and it was natural to have someone ask. Points for the man, she could respect that rather than some cheap pick up line- gawd she had heard them all in spades!

     

     

    While she sat there a movement down from them caught her eye and amusement dashed about. Poor girl, those books were hellish. Murphy remembered days like that, books are great, but she still believed what she learned the most from was being on the job, while the books offered knowledge, it did not really give you street smarts. Holding out her hand in a fashion, “ Murphy…nice to meet ya …?” Well no reason to be unfriendly, it was clear the guy had some sensory blurs, she was good at spotting those since the change. Not that it was really indicative of good or evil, just that you were there. 

     

     

    She considered telling the girl don’t sweat the books, but ya know, all of us need them to get past the basic tests. It was a good thing though to see people still used books in the day of digital monsters, kinda a nice nudge to the fact that some things should not always change.

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    Dika switched his drink to the other hand in order to offer her the same hand she had put out.  [dika]"Dika, nice to meet you too, Murphy."[/dika]   Dika turned toward the table that she had eyed earlier and offered up his thoughts.  [dika]"Murphy, tell me something; did I accidentally walk into a cop bar? I just don't want to invade anyone's space, but with you and the bookworm over there, it just seems that I might have done just that. Who else brings books into a bar, unless the bar is the kind of place that has your people all around, ¿sí?"[/dika]

     

    Dika really didn't mind if it was a cop bar, he just wanted to be sure before hitting on anyone too severely. Hell, he might like to hook up with a LEO, he never had before; it could be fun! He turned back to Murphy with a small smile on his lips as he waited for her to tear her gaze away from the girl and answer.

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    • 2 weeks later...

    Yen's hearing was good enough to catch what the couple by the bar were saying: "did I accidentally walk into a cop bar?"  Yen's first thought was, "heavens", is this really a cop bar?  Wouldn't that be funny?  Well, on second thought, Yen decided it wouldn't be funny.  

     

    Next Yen closed her textbook and looked long and hard at the guy's tattoos (the one talking about this place being a cop bar) and mostly his tattoos on his arms.  Where she came from tattoos were a sign that one belonged to a criminal gang.  Yes, she knew she was no longer back home, and she knew tattoos were rather popular.  But she had always felt this: tattoos were funny things.  For example, had Yen gotten a tattoo when she was 9, she would probably have gotten a Pokemon tattoo.  At 15 she would have gotten a Jay Chou tattoo.  At 18 she might have gotten a laced, ivy tattoo.  But by that age, her Pokemon tattoo would have been embarrassing her.  And she was now quite sure that at 30, her Jay Chou tattoo would really be inappropriate.  Yet the guy didn't have any Mickey Mouse tattoos, nor any Joe Loves Grace tattoos with a silly cupid.  

     

    The guy really had his tattoos, though.  They were quite intricate.  

     

    Yen also noticed the quick glances that the man's "partner" had given her.  They were professional, quickly assessing her.  Yen didn't mind.  Especially since it was now clear the woman was a cop.  Yen sort of liked that.  However, she wasn't stupid enough nor lonely enough to go running over and blurting out something like, "Hey, want to help me prepare for tomorrow's quiz on Neighborhood Policing.  

     

    Yen wondered what kind of cop the woman was.  But she did need to study.  So, she took a sip of her beverage and re-opened her textbook.

     

     

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    Guest Murphy Cheyenne McCallister

    As she dropped into the chair a chuckle throaty and genuine escaped at his question. Spotting the bookworm was pretty much a clear indication ( hey she had cracked them books once now) that perhaps cops frequented the place. Though to be honest it was not 'a cop bar'.  Clubs and bars that encouraged their skill set tended to have walls filled with things indicating it was welcome to the long arm o' the law.  " Well Dika, I am, and I am betting the girl down there is gonna be? But I don't think its a cop bar like a serious one" She had no issue identifying herself, she had not yet checked into the precinct having another week of R&R doctor ordered to try and make go fast. " I just got into the city few days ago and spotted this place. I figured it was a better idea than some of the strip bars and others I saw ya know"

     

     

    Murphy was not a huge fan or fancy bars. Too noisy and usually filled with desperation. A good place to drink hear a bit of music, and meet people was more her style. Fancy clubs tended to give her a migraine. "Might end up being one if it keeps up serving us" She offered a grin before lifting a hand to offer a wave to the bookworm. Murphy had been a very focused student and hated it, but while most of the things you deal with out here never made the books, the books did give you a foundation of thought. Sure it was good to know things past and present, specially how to load silver, when to use it and how not to get eaten. But in this field most of the time when things happpen, you don't have a huge amount of time  to recall books. You reacted. The best cops she knew were reactionary. They were also still thanks to that, alive.

     

     

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    Dika nodded slowly and went back to his drink for a long sip. He thought for a moment about pressing Murphy for more but instead decided it would be best to let the two settle in together.  [dika]"Murphy, why not go help the girl out? She's obviously studying pretty hard and I bet she could use the help. I always find it nice to be able to help out a newbie, makes me feel extra smart and experienced."[/dika]   Dika laughed at his own joke and gestured toward the girl and the table.  [dika]"Really Murphy, I think you two could get along; so why not?"[/dika]   

     

    Dika leaned in close and whispered to Murphy,  [dika]"And if I'm going to be completely honest with you, I came in here looking to get laid; and the bartender is a bit more my type if you catch my drift."[/dika]   Dika leaned back away and laughed again, he was really starting to feel the drink loosen him up. Dika thrust a hand out to offer a handshake with Murphy.  [dika]"It was good to meet you Murphy."[/dika]

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    March 22nd

     

    Yen was deeper into Neighborhood Policing and quite happy that she was making through paragraph after paragraph without having to use a dictionary.  She was not paying much attention to the couple at the bar or to the barista.  But then the bar's door opened and a cold breeze blew in (it was still March after all) and three men staggered in--and stagger was the term (a term Yen had just recently learned) that really did best describe the way the men moved.  Yen's best guess was that they had gotten tossed out of the last bar that they had been in.  One even had a bloody nose and was still holding a bloody hanky to it.  Had they been into a fight?  They looked like it.  They looked like unsavory guys—the very last type that would attract Yen.    

     

    The three men scanned the bar and saw Yen first.  Now, what happened next was nothing really new for Yen.  Yen was good looking, cute, and small--just the kind of girl some guys took for someone they could take advantage of.  

     

    The table Yen was sitting at had four chairs--three empty.  Yen could smell the of reek of alcohol on the men from quite a distance.  It rolled over her like a wave of heat off of asphalt on a very hot summer day--not really a pleasant sensation.  

     

    The men smiled absurd, lopping smiles at her, waved (as though they knew her which was not the case) and started staggering towards her table.  They each took a chair and sat down.  Yen immediately started packing up her books and was going to leave--fast.  She was thinking they wouldn't be so forward or bold if her two dogs were here with her.   

     

    It didn't take Yen long to pack up her academy textbooks, take out some bills to pay for her drink and stand.  Much to her surprise, four hands grabbed her--two grabbed her right wrist and two her left wrist and she was unceremoniously slammed back down on her chair.  The one guy on her right was literally drooling and Yen wanted to puke over his stained suit.  Clearly, they thought that they were laying some sort of drunken claim to her—testosterone mixed with alcohol made some men idiots (or so Yen was thinking).

     

    With the one man still holding her left wrist, (harder than he needed to hold it), hard enough that he was hurting her, she calmly said, “Please let go of my wrist.  I am leaving now.  And I am New York City Police,” which Yen thought had a nice ring to it and would knock a bit of sense into the drunken trio.  But instead, they laughed, and the man holding her wrist yanked her to him, pulling her right out of her chair and almost onto his lap, and then he slobbered a disgustingly gross kiss on her lips. 

     

    Yen started to panic.  She tried hard to recall self-defense tactics, and was going to scream if her first attempt at self-defense failed.  But she was being held so far off-balance and by such a strong man that she was unable to execute any self-defense move (she really needed to study that class harder). 

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    Guest Murphy Cheyenne McCallister

    Murphy chuckled good naturedly at Dika and nodded just as Larry Moe and Drippy stumbled in and made a zig zag bee line for the other girl. Jeesh, why not just advertise you are too drunk to be socially acceptable. “Nice to meet ya too Dika and I hope ya get that goal met” She replied and then jerked her head towards the now mess about to happen at the other table. “Before you go can ya give a girl a hand?” Murphy did not wait for his answer but figured a nice fella like that would help only cause nice guys get laid by bar tenders faster than drunk assholes.

     

     

    She rose and smoothly moved from the stool towards the table with a roll of her good shoulder trying not to wince when the girl got dragged. God she hated dicks. It seemed like of all the things that changed when the world turned upside down, that never did.  “ Hey…get the hell off my sister asshole” She drawled out and reached for the spiky hair of Romeo to yank it back hopefully parting his mouth off the girl long enough for her to get free, or for maybe Dika to help her off the unwanted lap.  Murph looked down at the now tip tilted face with its hazy eyes and lifted a brow. “Don know where ya all from but its not polite to grab a woman without buying a drink first. Damn your momma taught ya all no manners” Her humor remained present in her voice but the fingers gripping the hair were all business, she would rip him scalpless if he even thought about getting up.

     

     

    Murphy was kinda used to these types. The aura was hazy and the smell told the tale. Too much whiskey, probably too much mouth and obviously sucked at ducking a punch. This meant they were either masochists or really thought it was a mark of coolness to cause a ruckus. Though she could have easily dragged out her badge, she technically had not reported in, and frankly she highly doubted they would know what it was at this point. They had seen a girl and figured hey why not have a go. This is why some people should absolutely never breed.

     

     

    “It’s a pity your momma never learned to swallow there lover boy” 

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    • 3 weeks later...

    Dika hurried over to the mess that had erupted at the young woman's table. He took the cue from Murphy and grabbed the young woman, picked her up, and set her to the side as quickly yet gently as he could. This was the time that the training would come in handy, he guessed; not to complete a mission but to get in a bar brawl of all things. At least the police would actually back him up on this one, he hoped.

     

    Dika took advantage of the stupidly-prone drunkard in the chair and threw a strong hook right into his upheld jaw. The blow landed strong, Dika felt the jaw give way as the drunk was knocked out and watched as the man's energy flew towards and around where he had hit. Dika took solace in the fact that he hadn't broken anything before spinning around and sizing up his friends, who had all stood in preparation to defend their friend.

     

    The closest one to Dika took a haggard step forward, clearly in no shape for a tussle. Dika scoffed as he watched the man's energy flow, watching for a weak point to make this fight a bit faster. Just there, in the left leg; Dika saw that he was nursing a bad knee. Dika couldn't tell what was wrong but he knew something was, so he kicked for it, turning his body and swinging his foot around to the back before yanking it forward, hard. The man tumbled to the ground, in pain but still conscious and mostly unharmed by the fall, thankfully. Dika wanted to stop them, not maim or kill them. He had been pretty outnumbered but they were clearly outmaneuvered.

     

    Dika got back into a fighting stance, holding his ground, waiting to see what would happen next.

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    March 22nd

     

    “ Hey…get the hell off my sister asshole”  Yen heard the lady say that and felt a flush of pride and a sense of belonging.  Having a sister here in NYC would be really such a wonderful thing.  And having one that was a "bad ass" who could take on burly men would be just amazing.  “Don know where ya all from but its not polite to grab a woman without buying a drink first. Damn your momma taught ya all no manners”   Yen heard her "sister" again and just wondered where she got her strength and confidence from.  

     

    Yen was then airborne.  Wow! Her dark hair was hanging straight downward--gravity had that effect.  The man with the tattoos had actually picked her up faster than she could blink, and had lifted her like she weighed no more than bamboo basket filled with nothing but confetti.  Then, the whirlwind experience ended with her finding herself placed a safe distance from her table and from the 3 men.  Catching her breath, she just watched.  And what a show.  Between the two of them--yes, it was two against three, with one being her new "sister", and she was as incredible as he was--they were simply destroying the annoying drunks.  

     

    Yen winced as she heard and felt one most obnoxious drunk's jaw get busted.  She watched the man and the woman do what she had previously only seen on a Hollywood movie set.  It was actually pretty amazing.  Then, she wondered if instead of just standing there and watching, she should maybe do what she was trained to do--call for help.  So, that is what she was going to do, but quickly discovered she couldn't because her phone was inside her bag which was still on the table.  

     

    A quick glance at the barkeep reassured her that he had already done that--called the "cops".   

     

    Yen wondered what would happen if any of these people were enhanced, or had the use of magic.  Yes, those old Warner movies from decades ago were today real life n this new world.  The man (her hero with the tattoos) looked like he might have once been one of those super-heroes.   He was quite an amazing man.  Yen stopped and thought about just what she was thinking--and feeling--as she watched him.   

     

     

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    • 1 month later...

    March 22nd 

     

    Yen had walked out of the bar (drinking establishment was it?) flushed.  She had thanked her saviors (blushing), a couple who seemed like they would make a good couple (if they weren’t already a couple).  She had not imbibed a single alcoholic beverage, but felt like she wanted to vomit.  She detested drunks.  She hated drunks.  She even had some kind of phobia about them.  She wasn’t quite sure where that came from.

     

    She hoped that the couple who had saved her had not had their evening ruined.  But she feared they probably had had it ruined.  That would weigh on her conscience. 

     

    But she had also felt horribly inadequate at having been a victim.  Was she even cut out for police work, she wondered.  She preferred animals.  She really questioned if she would ever understand humans, except in the aspects where they were similar to animals. 

     

    She longed to get back to her horrible and disgusting room and cuddle with her two dogs. 

     

    It had been a fairly disastrous experiment (checking out a bar)—at least that was Yen’s assessment at the present moment.  She checked herself, checked to see if she had all her books, wallet, and the rest.  Once that was done making sure she hadn’t left anything inside, she began the chilly walk back to her room. 

     

    But first she entered the Jing Fong Restaurant at 20 Elizabeth St. through the back door.  She wanted to eat something simple—with the cooks (not anything on the menu).  While scooping up rice with chopsticks, she thought a bit about the woman, the police woman, in the bar.  Yes, she would like to have skills like hers someday. 

     

    A goal wasn’t always a bad thing. She would hang onto that thought.  

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    • 2 weeks later...

    Dika headed out shortly after the poor girl left. He knew she was pretty shaken up, but they had all survived the tousle no worse for the wear. He decided that it would be best to pack it in for the night, not wanting to stir up any more trouble. He finished his drink, winked at the bartender, grabbed his coat, and left. 

     

    So much for a fun night out, thought Dika. He hurried home to feed the gecko and catch up on some reading.

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