2875/Two Birds, One Bar

Two Birds, One Bar
Date of Scene:	11 August 2020
Location:	Paradise Limelight
Synopsis:	More philosophy of life between the wise and the bouncy.
Cast of Characters:	Meggan Puceanu, Dick Grayson

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Meggan Puceanu has posed:
The languid rhythms of the bar follow a slower path than the music in the private rooms. They bound and crash, a collision course effect, writhing in the momentum from speakers on the go and high-octane beats preferred by many. Not all. There are bluesy rhythms a la Clapton, the old standbys from the 70s to the 90s, classic rock to modern pop hits. Out here, the music's far more in keeping with the Blade Runner cool, slick and oozing so much attitude.

"Flying Grayson, easy to remember. I mean, stick Meggan with two Gs in and you get me, not much else," admits the Briton. She shrugs her shoulder, tossing her violet and gold hair. The lights pick up the complex silver highlighting, transformed to the moon. "You laugh but what happens if I get a sword for Hallowe'en? Right proper of me to do that, a better basis for government than here, you have to admit."

Dick Grayson has posed:
Dick continues working on his drink, though a bit slowly, now. He notes the change in genre and is a little surprised, but it's the way it is in a karaoke bar. "Pretty interesting options for songs." He notes, idly. He looks to Meggan again, "Fair enough, and I'll make a note of that spelling!" Dick grins and nods again, "Fair enough, on both counts. At least it feels like that some days, though at times it's a little sad that arbitrary blade distribution determining ultimate executive authority." The last words coming off like a patter song.

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
"About every song you can imagine except the ones you can't sing to. No point in karaoke to Pendulum's 'The Island,' though we have more. You might be surprised." Fishing around on a shelf kept closed, Meg comes up with a tablet wrapped up in a hard plastic Otterbox case, the better in its shining silver facade to glow with the same frosted glimmer as the tables. "Take a look for yourself. Do you want a refill on your drink or water for now?"

She has a set of Suntory beers to prep, which means largely going to the cooler, pulling them forth, and placing them on a tray in a neat square. Adding two more glasses per the request on her smaller tablet, she cracks the lids on all and waits for her would-be server to show up to usher the libations away. At least food is a dull roar; the kitchens are busy in their own right. "Has anyone ever inquired whether the blade distribution was that? Perhaps it was based on a lack of present swords in the location, population density, immediate risk to life and limb, and terrain. Why bother distributing a sword based on a castle over that hill?"

Dick Grayson has posed:
"Aha, well, if you're a karaoke bar, it'd make sense to have it all, well most," Dick says and thinks for a second, "Water is fine. I did not drive, but you certainly gave a fair pour on those." He points to the glasses, and then thinks as Meggan deals with the beers, "Well, perhaps with the information at hand the best plan was to give power to someone worthy who could maintain it? I am uncertain, but then again, maybe that's why I am not in charge of blade distribution, but it would make sense, at least somewhat?" Dick is now pondering the topic, having actual fun for once.

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
"The least of the sins committed by night." The blonde laughs, taking back the tablet if he isn't using it and storing the device away in the same drawer. At least the bottom pad serves to adequately charge the battery by proximity, one of those neat functions. "Water always goes well. Ice and carbonated or still?" Proof she is nothing less than British, asking that manner of question. Intangible traces of a smile reside all the same as she polishes up a glass. "Sometimes, yes. Circumstances don't always turn up the way you expect, so you put your faith in the best candidate showing an open mind, a sense of humour buried under staunch professionalism, and an ability to listen to others. Adaptability and raw smarts go right along with it. Not everyone gets their Merlin, sometimes life turns you up with nothing more than a pack and a pair of coconuts. Now were you in charge, how would it be different? You have access to a very shiny treasury, you could have just about everyone in Gotham loaded up with at least three."

Dick Grayson has posed:
"Just regular water and ice, please," Dick says with a nod. He relaxes as he leans on the bar, certainly comfortable. "We the best with what we can. Sometimes you are stuck picking between two mediocre options or similar." The last part of Megga's question makes me think, "I would like to think that there is a chance to do a lot of good with what I have. The question is which is the best way to help the most people in the biggest way. Pretty much I know where I am blind on these things and would probably consult experts to clue me in." Dick looks down at the bar as he ponders this, "What would you advise, as someone who has walked a different path from myself?"

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
Meggan shakes her head as she pours out the requested drink. "Easiest customer I've had all night. What is your secret? Do you all come like that, or just special to you?" With a whimsical wink, she twirls around behind the bar and fetches herself up something, since no one said that's off-limits. In her case, the thrilling joys of black currant juice -- Ribena -- mingled with an awful lot of water. Doctored liquid of intriguingly dark decant, she takes a sip of it. "How do you think you're blind about how to help people? Way I hear it, you sound pretty solid on your choices, head screwed on proper and tight. Is there something I'm missing in that? You want to know what I think someone in your position ought to do about distributing swords or the bigger question in life?"

Dick Grayson has posed:
"I try not to be a bother," Dick says with a grin and winks back. He chuckles and says, "I am no engineer, nor city planner, among other things I might need to know the finer points on why something that might be obvious is not so." A chuckle, "Maybe some day I'll go into politics. I am certainly not ready yet, heck I'm barely even eligible for some offices. Besides, I need to show that I am more than just a spoiled rich kid, and to determine if it is the path I want to walk." A sigh, "But even without an office I can work to make life better for everybody, especially those who need the help."

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
"You, Dick Grayson, are no bother. Come back any time I'm on shift and you will soon know the meaning of that. You aren't trying to hit me up cause I've got an accent or look young or might be polite." Dick Grayson, well-behaved! Alfred by this point surely glows in satisfaction somewhere, knowing his lessons and beatings got through to one of the Batlings. Alas, the others remain a grey area. "Politics? Ooh, you'd have a run for your money as a copper on that. Strong connection to the city and the neighbourhoods you patrol, but how often do they make full runs? Mayor, police chief? I suppose it's done. Rich kid only goes so far, you know. It impresses some, annoys some, but vast majority of people just see you live in the city and have the connections. I doubt then you have so much to worry about. Do you want to be in politics? Do you want to follow in your father's footsteps? Or are you happiest up to something different? Nothing in this life is set in stone, least as I've ever seen it. You can make a world of difference pursuing what really sets your heart afire. That you'd be willing to stick it out for."

Dick Grayson has posed:
"That is much appreciated," Dick says with a nod and a smile. Alfred would definitely approve. He listens and thinks, "Well, maybe. I do not know at this point, but at least I have three more years before I can even think about it. Would rather finish my studies and pass the bar, lest people throw that in my face, and I think it would honestly help if I chose to walk that road." Dick thinks a little more, "Though I will admit, I am a little lost at what exactly the next steps will be, but perhaps an option will decide itself."

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
All the fanfare of a group exiting a larger room makes for an awful lot of noise. Exciting noise, mind you, but they parade down the stairs in a frisson of babble and jabbering, feet hard on the stairs, not exactly the quietest approach. "Three years to pick your poison. That's better than most of us get. Use it wisely and broadly. Make the most. Passing the bar is no easy task, that much I know." She shakes her head at the group headed out, not about to rush in to clean up. Bartenders, not room service! Blessings to be had even at a fairly upscale place. "You know, not having all the answers is okay too. Sometimes you follow what you know. I do that all the time."

Dick Grayson has posed:
Dick turns to see the group depart, unsurprised at their loud departure, but at least they do not pester Dick and Meggan. "Indeed, three hellish years of studies, or at least that's what I have been told." He nods and sips his water, "Oh, I have accepted I will not have all the answers. But I do the best I can to be as informed as possible before I make a choice." Dick smiles, "So how much longer you got at Gotham U, plan on grad school after?"

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
Make the most of the moment. That's the rule of life in many ways. Meggan ascribes to a philosophy rooted deeply in that fact, her bright smile just content to be as she is. "Three hellish years! You have to look at it being better than that. Three years learning how to help people. Three stepping stones to being accomplished at the law. It's not hell, trust me. Might feel exhausting and a big slog through a mire, but you have an end. A time, knowing where you might end up."

Maybe that smile is glassy, her eyes clouded but there's no reason to worry for long. Black currant seltzer to the rescue, sipped lightly. "For me, getting through my degree. Definitely going for the next level if I can afford it. I want my voice to be heard, I need to back it up with solid learning, aye?"

Dick Grayson has posed:
"Might have been a little hyperbole on my end," Dick concedes with a laugh, "Just will be different going back to the classroom after six years. But it will get done, come Hell or high water." He raises his glass of water in a salute, before taking a sip, "Honestly, you got a good shot at funding. It's STEM and you are driven." Dick smiles, "I have no doubt that you will achieve that aim. And you are right, education is a great building block for being effective, it is why I'm doing it. If there's any way I can help, let me know."

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
"Round here you never know." Meg's lift of her glass is a salute, even as she stifles her laughter. "Six years isn't a thing. I walked in havin' no idea 'tall of what I might face. Nothing like your American schools where I went, and half the class is younger, smarter and probably prettier to boot. No problems there. To your future, and making ourselves better in the trying. Education may be your thing, you know. After law enforcing and lawyering."

Dick Grayson has posed:
"Eh, if it was the normal path, would it be worth walking? You'll get to where you're going." Dick says, noting that they both certainly have had unusual lives compared to their peers, "Yeah, probably will be dealing with the same in my boat. And to your success as well," he again salutes, "To making the world a better place, one day at a time." He grins. "I don't see me teaching, though, definitely don't have the patience for it, some days."