3018/Just Another Night in Paradise

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Just Another Night in Paradise
Date of Scene: 21 August 2020
Location: Paradise Limelight
Synopsis: Learning about the world.
Cast of Characters: Meggan Puceanu, Dick Grayson




Meggan Puceanu has posed:
The smoky backbeat of Glass Animals' slinky hit, "Heat Waves," drenches the futuristic bar. Paradise Limelight features an incredibly deep and complex catalogue of songs for peple to select, but few of them filter outside the soundproofed rooms or the popular dance-floor on the first floor. Thursday nights aren't quite hopping the way Friday to Monday will be, but a perfectly mature audience fed by the variety of liquors on tap or shelf, vibrancy of an approaching break, and the dying hours of a summer night.

Up here, things are a little more mellow, and it helps that a blonde girl in a beachy white shift split at the sleeves dances behind the gorgeously polished bar. Melancholic and vulnerable lyrics paired with a dreamy energy makes for an odd pairing, and it helps she fearlessly sings, not entirely perfect but worthy of a karaoke bar at least.

"Sometimes, all I think about is you,
Late nights in the middle of June;
Heat waves been fakin' me out,
Can't make you happier now.

You can't fight it, you can't breathe,
You say something so lovin', but
Now I gotta let you go.
You'll be better off in someone new,
I don't wanna be alone."

Dick Grayson has posed:
Dick arrives in the bar, having gotten the message that Meggan wanted to speak with him on his next visit, and so he kept that in mind as he makes his way over to what has become his usual haunt: he gets left alone, the company is good, and the music was usually good. The Wayne princeling bounces as he walks to the music and takes a seat, "The usual, please!" he asks and gets comfortable.

For today, Dick has decided to go with a nice t-shirt and jeans, the casualness of the bar goes a long way to him liking it. "Ready for school to start back up?" He asks politely and rests his elbows on the bar, "Also, how's everything been going?"

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
That summery heat can't penetrate far beyond glass, steel, and the other elemental compounds used to fashion a vision of futuristic glee shot through by the vivid lights common in many Asian cities. Something glossy and glitzy compels the eye and tantalizes the spirit, as known by marketing experts everywhere, but the blonde dancing her heart out behind the bar with a bottle of Bacardi might not be the most uncommon sight. Especially since she possesses some manner of competency at it, rocking her hips, swaying to the relentless momentum, caught up in singing -to- the bottle as Dick arrives.

She wiggles her fingers and turns, pouring a splash of the rum into a glass already partly filled by a variety of tropical juices. Laughing while she goes, she expertly snags one of the orange wedge garnishes and flips it over, piercing the cut with the rim of the glass. It glows an exotic orange-yellow under the lighting, though orange juice might seem pretty space age under the circumstances. When he makes his choice of places to loiter, easy to hone in on him. "You assume I ever stopped. Summer classes," she says, shaking her head a little. "Making the most of largesse and scholarships. It was needful to pick up a few extras. How are you doing, stranger-and-friend?" Her wink there brings out the English overtones as she gestures to the smooth expanse of glass before them. "What poison for you tonight? We have a special going on for mango drinks, if you feel like a daiquiri or the like."

Dick Grayson has posed:
Dick bounces a little in his seat to the music and grins back, "Fair enough, hopefully those are going well?" He taps absentmindedly on the table, "Something with mango sounds good, surprise me! Though let's steer clear of gin." A firm nod follows, "Never been the biggest fan of that."

The mirth is evident in Dick's tone as he continues, "But otherwise things are going pretty well. Not looking forward to school starting back up, but that's just the usual anxiety from that. I'm sure it'll be fine." He chuckles, and stretches his neck, "Anything interesting been going on?" The man is in his hideaway from the world and his jobs, so he is glad to be here.

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
The high stools give an opportunity for even a tall man to stretch his legs, whereas someone of Meggan's height has little concern about being too short. She stands most of her working hours, anyway. She polishes up the bar with a folded cloth, cleaning up the spots of water or liquor that sometimes accrue in the course of pouring, returned glasses, and more dispatched. She has not so long to worry about that, however, until the next order comes in. Using the opportunity of a pause to tidy up her bar is a good break, anyway. "Something with mango. I've had the blender runnin' all night, so let me mix up something proper." Pulling down the apricot brandy allows an enjoyable scent to mingle with the already heady addition of rum, muddling the two together in a glass while setting the mango mix into the blender. Parceling it out brings a clink of metal, a gleam of glass. "No gin? Right then, promise not to add that. You cannot be too worried about school starting? Being older and wiser than most starting students has its advantages, hasn't it?" The whirling blades growl noisily in the blender, something she wordlessly awaits on finishing after four or five pulses. "Everything new brings a certain anxiety, and we weather it the best we can. Now, as for the exciting bits? Oh, been a bit of an active week, all the usual things. Times change but people don't."

Dick Grayson has posed:
"You're the wizard back there, so I trust you on this one," Dick nods, eagerly watching the alcohol alchemy at work. He leans back in the stool, to put less pressure on his elbows and thinks, "That works. Just easy to be caught up in the change, though I already know a little bit from my old job. I also know that I don't know ninety-eight percent of it, so clearing that first Dunning-Kruger curve is handy, if not a tad depressing," he snorts.

"OH? What have you been up to? I figure your classes are certainly interesting, given your field of choice? Or was it interesting patrons and weird orders?" Dick's curiosity is evident.

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
"Me, the wizard? Oh no. I know the real wizards and they do things that would make this look like a child mixing up finger-paints and smudging on a newspaper," Meggan insists, a laugh coming to her lips easily. She resists singing to the next song melodically piped through the speakers, a blend of notes swirling around languidly. Pouring out the melange of mango and ice into the wide margarita glass, she stirs up the slush with a spoon to mix the alcohol. A bit odd, but not out of the ordinary. "Right of the bartender's confessional, as always."

She nods for him to try the drink at his leisure, then fulfills another order by plucking a few shotglasses down and adding a bottle of sake from the shelf. "Maybe like you, trying to find my place. Getting my footing outside of the general classes. If I never see a maths class again, I would be happy, but I have a statistics course next semester. Thrilling." A deadpan tone suggests it's more than not. "The ones about climate science are, though. Lots to learn in there, and sometimes challenging my own held beliefs in a way that hurts, but may help me grow. Promise, though, people come up with the worst orders sometimes thinking they are clever or adventurous. Nine ingredients in a glass isn't thrilling, it's a salad."

Dick Grayson has posed:
"Real wizards?" Dick asks intrigued, though, "That's cool," no sarcasm present. He knows enough to know magic is real, just... beyond his abilities. He takes the drink and sips, "Delicious! Another hit. Though I am guessing you can't tell me more about these wizards?"

Dick sees the sake being served, "Must be a party in there?" But the the change of topic to classes gets a nod, "Yeah, I enjoyed stats, but it is a different enough creature from the other math classes. And good that you are being challenged, the growing pains is a sign of learning, that mind-stretching goes a long way."

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
Meg flashes a wan grin, cheeky enough. "Wizards of drinks and potions with colourful names. Their great leather-bound books full of pictures and strange formulas, while they wear those strange robes." Perhaps a little more teasing than not, she leans against the bar as a server with bright pink hair floats in to pick up the sake and the glasses for one of the other rooms. "Oh, goodness, I grew up surrounded by them! Time Lords and Arthur, king of the Britons, and all that. Merlin and Arthur stories are practically the stock of tourism in Somerset. Unless you mean Harry Potter, which is rather a bit different? Lots of wands and cloaks and such."

Her owlish gaze is almost teasing, and she reverts back to a smile all the same. "We've quite a few rooms booked up. Rule of thumb, easier to find space for larger parties on a Tuesday." Another easy lean pours her into the curve of the bar, content to listen. His words ring with a familiar resonance, one that earns a soft laugh. "Ah, mind for maths is an acquired thing. As 'tis for stretching understanding, it sometimes hurts."

Dick Grayson has posed:
"Fair enough!" Dick says with a nod, not disappointed, but he grins at the talk of the English references, "True, whole different cultures, but it does make the world a little more... special." He shrugs, "That something more metaphysical can be played upon it." Dick takes a sip, "I mean, we are all bound by the laws of physics, well mostly," everybody saw the Green Lantern's powers at Bushwick, "But sometimes I wish the fantastical was real. Though at least the Harry Potter books were pretty decent." He's not a full-on Potterhead, but who hasn't read those books?

"Seems fair, not exactly a huge party night, and weeknights are usually great for karaoke," It is the way. He leans in to to not have to speak as loudly, "Gotta be good at maths in my industry, or at least understand them well enough. Stats at least are fun to tinker with. And the hurt at least means it's processing, so that's good?" He grimaces and shrugs, "It gets better, though. And hopefully you are having fun with it."

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
"Special, oh, most definitely that. Every place has something phenomenal about it," Meggan hastens to agree on that point. She shakes her head, golden hair fluttering in waves around her shoulders. "You're asking about real wizards, though? Does Gotham have those? Best you don't have a Merlin around, he can be a right codger. All puffed up wisdom of years, that business, in the tales." The awful suggestion of knowing is there, her green eyes lifting ot the heavens for refuge from that lore. "The fantastical varies by who you speak to, you have to admit. Whatever you get to do in the law or day to day seems almost like a story to me. Everyone has their sense of the real and the wondrous."

She traces her fingers lightly on the bar, polishing a neat orbit. "Your industry, and how does that link up with the law?"

Dick Grayson has posed:
"It's a weird world, one moment, Bushwick and Genosha are gone, then they're back," Dick says, "If someone told me wizards were real, I would not be overly skeptical," he grins and sips, "None in Gotham that I know of, and Merlin being prickly does not surprise me in the least. Though it sounds like he hired the right PR guy." A chuckle follows.

"Law has its own weird stories of lucking into a win or finding some obscure piece of law or code to suddenly launch you into victory or sink you into defeat," a shrug, "But we will see once I finish it all, and by my industry," Dick smiles and holds up a finger, "I mean Wayne Enterprises, where I do some consulting. Understanding math and physics, or at least knowing enough to be dangerous, is helpful in working with intellectual property. Which will be useful once I get my license. It's not pretty, but it's necessary." A firm nod follows, along with a sip, flashing a grin to Meggan, "If I've learned anything, nothing is straight forward.'