5984/Just Another Reason

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Just Another Reason
Date of Scene: 19 April 2021
Location: Luke's Bar
Synopsis: Social, girls talking in a bar with Luke in the wings doing bartender things. Established 5 NPCs. Benny the barback, Dave the assist bartender, Sally, Jessie and Ralphetta the waitresses. If anyone gets that reference, they're old.
Cast of Characters: Luke Cage, Claire Temple, Ava Starr




Luke Cage has posed:
    Like any other normal Monday evening after work, Luke's bar is dotted with the standard 'after shift' drinkers who need a little time to wind down after a hard day. There are the various classes of people doing their own things in and around. A few waitresses (Sally, Jessie, Raphette) spin around slinging drinks and two bartenders (Luke and Dave) behind the bar plus a barback (Benny) who is often around.

    Luke is seen wearing a tight white t-shirt and jeans with boots beneath. His super hero ID is very public, but he's bulletproof, so it doesn't bother him to show his face. He is cleaning glasses (sink just beneath the bar itself) in the sink while Dave is serving a drink to a patron sitting at the bar some feet away.

Claire Temple has posed:
While Claire Temple rarely has time to actually relax, part of her knows it's important. When she can catch a few spare breaths between shifts and keeping an unintended, quiet vigil at home for the city's various protectors, going somewhere for a cool beer and some quiet is a necessity. Besides, from the look of her this evening? She's not going to be sleeping well tonight.

She's still in her scrubs from work, the hospital ID hung at the edge of her shirt. She's not covered in a mess but looks a little rumpled compared to her normal self. All the blood on her skin has been scrubbed off, but she missed a bit on her shoes and the edge of her pants. Whatever happened was a mess. She looks like a woman who hasn't slept in nearly 24 hours and that's probably true, but she can put it off a bit longer. She drwosily makes her way up towards the most quiet corner of the bar, the one tucked in against the wall, giving Dave a quiet 'don't rush yourself' sort of nod as she shifts up onto the stool.

Luke Cage has posed:
    Dave is an African American man in his early 20s. He's got a few tattoos on his arms and the sides of his neck. Most aren't the best quality. But he's not afraid to show them off in his sleeveless white shirt that hugs tightly to his muscular frame (not quite as muscular as Luke). Dave gives a chin up in recognition to Claire's arrival and in a few seconds he walks over with a napkin and slides it over, "What can I get for ya?" he asks in a deep baritone voice.

Claire Temple has posed:
"Evenin', Dave...ah... got something high octane on draft? A double, maybe?" Claire asks, drowsy dark eyes narrowing at the taps. "Dogfish 90 minute...thank you." It's not quite enough to knock her on her ass, but enough that she'll be feeling it after one, especially on no dinner. Hopefully enough to go and face plant once she's home. After the order, she slides her car across the bar, giving a little wave to it. "Just leave it open."

Decisions made, her tired eyes flicker back to the room, studying who is actualy around on a Monday night. There's the faint wariness that lives behind her gaze and has for a while now, like part of her is braced for something bad to roll through the window any moment.

Luke Cage has posed:
    Luke gives a glance; a surprised look at the request. He comments to Claire, "You need us to get you some food with that order?"

    Dave turns to pour the beer into a freshly withdrawn frosty mug.

    A few more patrons walk into the bar and most over to a table. It's a group of three. Two guys and a girl. One of the waitresses walk over to take their orders.

    Luke stands up straight, shaking off his hands and then grabs a towel to wipe off his hands. Still attenuative to Claire if she has an answer about the food.

Claire Temple has posed:
"I..." Claire starts, the look on her face hesitant. It's the look of a woman who doesn't *want* to eat but knows full well she probably should. "Maybe after one. Nothing's really... appetitziing right now. Mainly came in to shut off for a few hours before I try and sleep." Claire admits, the edge of her voice with just a bit of a rasp to it. She really is just that tired. She gives him her best try at a reassuring, steadying smile though. The sort of look that says really, she's alright. A beer will make it better.

Luke Cage has posed:
    There are a few other finger foods scattered around the bar - things that were gotten from the next door kitchen. Along with the various popcorn and peanut offerings at the bar itself.

    Luke nods in response, "No rush. Just thinkin ahead."

    Meanwhile, Dave slides a small one sided menu card in front of Claire along with her beer mug. He gently taps it and then backs away to handle another patron. Luke doesn't lurk. Instead, he's given the option, and moves on to serve another drink order from one of his wait staff.

    A small table of four cheers as they see a goal being made on some sporting event shown on the television hanging from a wall.

Claire Temple has posed:
A quiet, levelled look is given towards Luke and Dave as he slips her that menu card. Full lips press into a bit more of a smirk at them, "I get the hint. I'll... order something." She still doesn't look thrilled at the thought of food, but the fact that the guys here would call her (and several others) on their bullshit when it happens? It's half the reason Claire stumbles her ass in her even after a shift as long as the one she just had.

She takes a deep, long sip of the IPA in front of her, eyes closing as she savors the heavy hops and just lets the slight burn of it down her throat relax a few inches of that bloody, exhausted tension through her shoulders. It's really what she needed. Her eyes reopen as that cheer is thrown up from the other table, but she doesn't really jump. She just gives a tired half smile.

Luke Cage has posed:
    With the submission of Claire to the food suggestion, Luke gives a knowing smirk. But continues on with this order filling and says nothing in response. Dave is indeed handling Claire and will hover back over in a few moments after he finishes with setting up a single scotch in a tumbler on a tray for Sally to come retrieve.

    Benny comes from the back. He's a 20 something, lanky yet muscular white kid who looks like he's lived on the streets far too many times. His hair is greasy but kept pulled back and in a backwards whitesocks baseball cap. He wears long sleeves and jeans. Luke intones toward Benny, "Benny, food run in just a minute. Dave will set it up."

Ava Starr has posed:
The door to the bar opens and a young woman in a grey hoodie beneath a dark leather jacket slides in. She rolls her head a little, as if feeling a muscle pull in her back, before she makes her way carefully between the tables toward the bar. Her hands are fisted deep into her pockets and her expression is tight around her eyes, but not suggestive of anyone up for causing trouble. Indeed, it's probably more the opposite. Someone looking to hide from it for a while.

She pulls herself up onto a stool, pushing her grey hood back to reveal dark hair and green eyes in a face that's clearly of mixed heritage. She looks around a moment or two longer at the patrons before focussing her attention on finding out what might be on tap.

Claire Temple has posed:
In the far corner of the bar, Claire isn't exactly giving off 'don't f*ck with me' energy, but she's on the edge of it. Still in her blue scrubs from work and with a touch of blood splashed on the edge of her pants ankle and one of her shoes, the woman screams having come off a long shift and not much to help with it other than cold beer and maybe a very carefully worded bit of friendship. But she's not hiding alone, so there has to be some reason the exhausted nurse drug herself in here.

She finally picks her eyes up off the little menu card and grumbles in Dave's direction, "Just gimmie an order of the fried pickles, but you or Luke better be helping me with them because that shit doesn't reheat and you know I ain't taking it home." The words are muttered with a good natured grumble behind them, cranky that they pressed home the need for food but also thankful.

Then that other woman comes in. There's something about her stance that screams something is wrong -- pain maybe, or paranoia? Either way, it sets off Claire's instincts. She watches Ava a little closer, sitting up straighter in her chair with a squareness to her shoulders that says she's ready to work again, if needed. Her worry for others easily overrides the exhaustion she feels herself. A momentary, disarming sort of smile is given in Ava's direction. A look that offers a quiet zone of safety, if the girl needs it.

Luke Cage has posed:
    Like normal, Luke takes note of everyone who steps foot into his bar. Assessing, considering, discerning whether or not the person poses a threat or not. The muscles beneath his white tshirt do not flex or harden, so he's not tense or stressed with the consideration of the woman.

    Upon her taking a seat, Luke approaches. "What can I get ya?", is asked in his bass voice.

    There are plenty of items on tap and several more on the wall, beneath, and around the bar for display.

    Dave approaches Claire and he says, "Fried Pickles, Benny. Let's get this lady some fried pickles that she says she's gonna share."

    Benny says, "Right on. Fried Pickles." and then he darts out of the bar to head next door to the adjacent kitchen/restaurant.

    Meanwhile, out in the sitting area, more people are enjoying one another's company and patrons are quite pleased with their after work lives.

Ava Starr has posed:
In Ava's case, it's probably a combination of both. Pain, certainly, though she's usually adept at hiding it. Hiding the worst of it, anyway. Paranoia, too, though she's less adept at hiding that.

In this case, however, she's also tired. Tired, sore, and really hoping a pint of something will blunt that pain enough for her to survive the trip home.

She sees the woman in scrubs shift out of the corner of her eye, gaze jerking to her automatically just because of the 'readiness' in the posture. The open expression, however, diffuses the newcomer's immediate alarm into something a little less sharp. She returns the smile with a small, tight pull of her own lips. It's an approximation of of a smile. A look that says, I see you. I recognize you're not a threat. That's actually quite a concession, in her book.

There's a subtle debate that dances through her eyes for just a moment. Finally, she ventures, her voice a London rasp, "Is it good?" She gestures to the IPA in front of the nurse. Because, if it is, that will eliminate one decision she needs to make.

Thus, when Luke asks what she wants, she gestures again to Claire's pint. "That'll do. And, um," she glances around to see what food might be in the offing, "maybe some fries?" Oh, yeah. Dinner of champions, that.

Claire Temple has posed:
Looking Ava up and down for just a moment, Claire lets her smile go just a little softer. She catches that concession in the woman's fears and she doesn't want to push it too far putting on her professional face. Even if she is professionally worried. "Uh... Dave, change it to the sampler platter. If chica here will split with me, that is. There's fries on there, and some things that pretend to have protein in them. Be better for all of us." Claire's teasing a bit as she says that, always quite content with the food here even if it's not exactly a healthy dinner. She gives Luke a bit of a look across Ava's shoulder, the gaze that says she's a bit worried about whoemever this girl is, but she's handling it too.

Hopefully the woman's paranoia was personal and not something that'd bring trouble down on the bar. Either way, these people? They looked out for each other and Claire looked out for them.

She then takes another good sip of her beer, a husky laugh escaping her lips at the question of if the IPA is good. "Depends if you like a pine tree which'll put you on your ass. 8 percent and pretty damn hoppy, but I like it. Especially after a day like today. If you want one... try it, don't like it? Get something else and I'll finish it."

Ava Starr has posed:
Ava pauses a moment, considering the other woman's offer. "Aight," she agrees. Then, she nods, shifting off her stool to take one closer to the nurse. She even smiles a little at the pretense of a joke. It fades some, as she notices that look passing between Claire and Luke. She knows when she's being sized out. "I'm not interested in trouble," she says, glancing between them. "I just wanted supper."

She can understand their protectiveness, really. But it's not really in her best interest to go stirring up trouble. She rolls her shoulders again. "I just... It's been long day, yeah." And she does want the drink. A drink that could put her on her ass sounds like a decent painkiller.

Claire Temple has posed:
As Claire notices Ava catching that look, her brows lift just a bit. The girl is sharp as a tack too. The nurse makes a mental note, but she keeps that slightly softer smile in place with a dip of her head. "I...didn't think you wanted trouble. Just haven't really seen your face around before. But seriously, sit. Get a drink... we'll split some food and try to make a shitty day a little less like shit, okay?" Claire's voice has the flat, practical tone of someone who is just being honest now. She also doesn't want to cause trouble, even if she's being a bit over protective.

Once Dave has the second beer for the woman poured and the quiet, warm chatter of the room has settled back into place around them, Claire's voice offers a bit more gentle. "...Sorry, this is... intrusive as hell, but you look like you're in... a good bit of pain. If you need some help, we... we've got resources to help, too."

Ava Starr has posed:
Ava's instinct is to bolt. But she doesn't. Mainly because she figures it'll attract more attention and more trouble in the long run. Better to let this play itself out. "Yeah," she replies. "Well, I'm not usually in this part of the city. But the bar looked decent, so..." It seemed worth a try.

She actually appreciates the woman's practical approach. It's something she can work with far easier than a sappy, take-pity-on-the-lost-kitten approach, which would only piss her off.

She's taking a sip of her beer, however, when the observation about the pain she usually hides so well is made. Her eyes tighten and a grimace pulls at her lips. "I doubt anything you've got is strong enough," she says with a mild shrug. She looks at the woman's scrubs, notes the speck of blood here and there. Yeah, chances are the medico knows a thing or two about pain. Just Ava's luck. "And I like to keep a clear head. There's too much shit out there that'll fuck you up."

Claire Temple has posed:
A gentle nod comes in return, "Yeah, you're not wrong about that. And most of it's stupid to drink on too but then... can't say a lot of people in this world make smart decisions." Claire admits with a bit of a deeper smirk, her own exhaustion with the human race bone deep. Especially tonight. She takes another deep drink of her beer, about half way through the pint so clearly she likes something this hoppy. It's also taking some of the edge off of her wariness. Dark eyes flicker up and down across Ava again, but it's hard to get a real look at what might be causing the pain with her as covered as she is.

"Look, I...know it's not my business. But if it's some asshole beating the shit out of you... There's ways to get help, and half the people in this bar know how to get you out of that shit. Just putting that out there, okay? I know it's hard to walk away but... if you decide to make that choice, this is a good place to come."

Ava Starr has posed:
"No, they do not," Ava agrees, her own view of humanity considerably jaded. She even smiles a little as she says it, taking a deeper swallow of her beer. It's very hoppy, that's true. Perhaps a little more than what she'd normally take. But 8% is a compelling argument to put up with it. She sets it down, resting her arms against the bar top.

For a moment, she looks past Claire, watching the other patrons cheering for the teams or simply enjoying the night out. A faintly wistful look flits so briefly across her face, it's a blink-and-you-miss-it thing.

Then, the nurse is making another surprising leap of logic. One that leaves Ava blinking, her expression clearly startled -- but not in the way of someone who's been found out. Rather, someone for whom such a situation isn't something that had even occurred to them. She shakes her head, her tight smile turning wry, even as she chuckles dryly. "Nono," she says, waving a hand dismissively. "Nothing like that." She snirks. "Trust me, it's not that easy to lay a hand on me, if I don't want you to." And sometimes, even if she does. Her expression shifts to something that borders on polite gratitude, "No, it's chronic condition. That's all. Doctors can't do shit, so... I just live with it."

Claire Temple has posed:
The quite momentary, wistful look on the woman's features and then the snirk that follows as she explains the pain, even in general terms, it all adds up for Claire to somewhat easily trust her response. The nurse's shoulders relax just a bit more as she realizes she's not going to have to do the very careful dance of trying to help someone out of a situation they might not even want to really get out of themselves. But the explanation is somehow worse, in its own way. Something Claire likely can't help at all. "Shit." She offers quietly, no judgment, just a touch of understanding and empathy there. "...I mean, I've seen a lot of it, but...that's still utter shit. And you're managing it totally clean?" Claire gives a low, thoughtful whistle. "Stronger woman than I, gunga din." It's said with earnest respect.

She then takes another long pull of her beer, not going to dive deep into the usual praises and hollow reassurances any chronic illness patient normally hears. Claire processes the info and then drops it, treating Ava just like any normal, regular friend. It *is* her way of showing respect. "Well, drink up. If you like something lighter, looks like they just put Big wave on tap for the summer. It's not quite so much of a pine tree but still has some potence behind it. Luke does right by his tap seleciton here. It's worth the commute."

Luke Cage has posed:
    Benny had gotten busy while waiting for the orders, so Luke took it upon himself to walk next door and retrieve the foodstuffs. Upon his return, Luke carries a tray and several items atop it. Two of the items are in red plastic baskets with paper lining. One is an order of fries and the other is an order of fried pickles. He levels the tray and says, "Ladies..." then regards Ava. "They put the cheese sauce on the side just in case. On, and there's ketchup and mustard too. Not sure what you two wanted on the orders. He sits the baskets in front of the two women, respectively, and places the condiments between them.

Ava Starr has posed:
"Eight-percent helps," Ava says, raising her beer, even giving a smile as she does. "Maybe round two," she adds with regard to the alternative beer. "Still need to make it home in one piece." Probably on public transit. As it is, she's just as glad when the other woman drops the whole matter. Yeah, she manages to keep clean. Mostly. But only because she's too paranoid to risk anything worse than an occasional drunk and even more occasional joint. Otherwise... yeah, she probably wouldn't be.

As the food arrives, she looks up, giving the huge man a bit of a smile. "Thanks," she says. She looks around. "It's a nice place. Don't see many quite like this."

Claire Temple has posed:
"Mm. Luke. You're a life saver. I'd make introductions, but I haven't quite got my friend here's name yet. Lady, this is Luke...he owns the place and is half the reason it's one of the last places around like it. He keeps good people around..." Claire says that with a level of respect in her voice that the battleaxe of a nurse doesn't have for many other people. If Ava's good at reading someone, and she probably is, Luke's name carries a lot of respect and weight around these parts. Claire might even be fond of him beyond that, but she's hiding a bit of her smile behind another gulp of her beer instead of actually looking in the man's eyes.

"Cheese is great. All of this looks...great, honestly. F*ck. Now I'm actually hungry." Claire knew she would be, even if exhaustion was winning when she first came into the place. She reaches down to the basket of fried pickles, diving into them and the mustard. She sets the food fairly equidistant between both of them. "Offer to share's still open." She calls, both to Ava and Dave.

Luke Cage has posed:
    Luke moves to get new beers for them both. New mugs will soon replace the old as he pulls them from the freezer below. He initially responds to Ava as he states, "Thanks. It's my pride and joy." But following up with what Claire adds, he gives a brief glance around to Ava with the introduction and says, "Nice to meet ya." It's only a brief glance before he starts filling the mugs and lets the girls go on with their fooding.

    Dave handwaves, "I'll be there in a moment." and he tends to other business of closing out someone's tab.

    Jessie whizzes by, grabs a pickle, and moves on. She mutters, "These are sooo good."

Ava Starr has posed:
"To be fair," Ava says archly in response to Claire, "you haven't offered your name, either." A beat. "I suppose, since we're sharing dinner, we should." She glances between the two. "Ava. Nice to meet you." She pushes her fries closer to the pickles in reciprocation, privately wondering if perhaps the platter really would have been the better choice. But it hardly matters. Salt. Grease. Beer. Food group staples, for sure.

Just don't ask which food group.

She can't help but cast an evaluating gaze over both Claire and Luke, unsurprised by the respect the man commands. She's heard his name. In her line of work, that's inevitable. She just didn't realize when she first came in that this was *his* place. She might have walked on by, if she had. Lucky her. And Claire has an aura of competence around her Ava's seen before -- perhaps not in the medical field, but to be fair most of her experience with them have been with scientists rather than actual medicos.

Claire Temple has posed:
A tired laugh escapes her lips, "Uh... fair enough. I suppose I'm not quite awake right now. Been on shift since 2 am." Claire admits. She finishes her first pickle and is at least polite enough to dust off her hands before she offers one in Ava's direction. "Claire. It's nice to meet you, Ava. Even if you're giving this place a look like you're wondering if this was the smartest place to come. Seriously. We don't bite here..."

Whatever instinct Claire has about people, they're generally pretty good, and they're screaming that the poor woman needs some friends. Sometimes she just gets a feel about these things. So, she's trying to keep this all a bit casual while still proving what she said before -- this was a safe place. No matter what the woman is going through. She grunts another nod of thanks as two more beers are put down in front of them. "Guess we're drinking tonight." She smirks, raising her glass in a toast to the men and knocking back another gulp. "I'm gonna end up half drunk in a taxi tonight, I just know it." She doesn't sound like she's really complaining.

Luke Cage has posed:
    Luke turns and places the new mugs of beer in front of the ladies, he smiles knowing that he'll be calling taxi's for a lot of people - or uber/lyft. Yet before he can comment he is called away by another patron who takes a seat just a few stools down. He mutters, "excuse me." and moves on. It's his place of business, after all. So keeping everybody happy is his job.

Ava Starr has posed:
"Half drunk means you can still stand," Ava says, shoving a couple of fries in her mouth as she finishes the words. She chews, swallows, reaches for a couple more, addding, "and still afford the taxi fare." Which, if her guess is right, will be twenty-five or thirty dollars between here and Hell's Kitchen.

Still, she accepts the second beer with a word of thanks, still working on finishing the first -- though that doesn't take long. She cants her head, as the alcohol takes a little of the edge off. "Which hospital do you work at?" she asks Claire, now, gesturing to the scrubs. "Looks like it was a busy night."

Claire Temple has posed:
"That's about all I can afford to get these days. Long past me are black out drunk on a saturday night and having fun like I'm 20 again." Claire admits with a deeper smirk. Not that she really looks like she was that much of a party girl, but she's definitely pushing into middle age and feeling it. There's some other weight behind her words as well, some heaviness of responsibility and obligation that might go beyond the hospital, though she wears no wedding ring and has no indication of family.

"Metro General. I'm a nurse in th ER. It... generally is a busy night. That's New York, though... I knew what I was getting into when I took the job." She's trying to pass it off lightly, but there's some tension behind her gaze that says tonight was probably a little worse than normal. The way she's putting back the beer probably confirms it, though she's a ltitle too stubborn to really admit that.

Ava Starr has posed:
Ava isn't that much younger than Claire. Closer to thirty than forty, certainly, but no longer in her twenties. And her eyes are the eyes of someone who's seen far too much. "I don't remember the last time I was at a party." Or blacked out drunk. Probably because she's actually never been to one. Not a real party. Not with the people she worked with. Not with her lifestyle.

Draining the end of her first glass, she pushes it away and reaches for more food rather than the second pint. "Doesn't matter if you knew what you were getting into when you took the job," she says with a shrug. "Some nights are always worse than others." She knows that intimately, too. "A little beer goes a long way, then."

Luke Cage has posed:
    Luke continues to run the bar, cleaning things, answering calls, serving drinks, and ensuring that everyone in the place gets what they want. Dave is ever present when people seated at the bar require his attention. Even Benny helps out where he can. Meanwhile, the floor is covered by the three waitresses and the evening presses on. Patrons come and go. Luke mingles and visits with others that he's familiar with. And even checks on the newcomers to introduce himself and essentially work the crowd to make sure his staff gets good tips.

Claire Temple has posed:
That first comment from the other woman gets a slight frown from Claire. A bittersweet almost laugh echoes it a moment later and she slightly shakes her head, picking up another pickle. "You know, I really don't give a shit about parties. Except the Christmas one around here is pretty damn nice... But just hearing you say that? Makes me want to find some good one to drag you out to and we can just forget the bullshit out there for a night. Life might be rough but... no one should never get invited to a party." It's not pity in her voice, more some self reflection happening through being able to look at the other woman and see a bit of a foil sitting right in front of her.

The commentary about knowing what she was getting into gets a bit of a lower huff of breath, Claire's tired eyes dropping to stare down into her beer for a heartbeat or two. "Yeah, I guess so. Another shooting... two teenagers, this time. It just... It really f*cking sucks to watch them when you know they never even really had a chance to find another way out."

Ava Starr has posed:
Ava slugs back a long pull of her beer. "I don't think that's a good idea," she says. "Me at a party, these days. I'm not much for it. Not good company." A beat. She offers a smile to soften her words. "Blame it on the pain." And the fact most parties happen when she's literally running low on energy and in need of a recharge.

The sympathy, perhaps even empathy, in Ava's eyes, however, when Claire speaks of the teenagers is telling. "Yeah," she agrees. There's recognition and sincerity in her tone. "It does. There's too many out there, that don't give a shit about the kids. Pull 'em into things they got no business doing. Right bastards, every one of them." She turns to her new beer and sucks it back, watching the lights of the bar create little halos in her vision.

Claire Temple has posed:
"Well... it's not a party. But come back around here a bit more? At least there's some friendly faces." That's the most pushy Claire is going to be about trying to make certain Ava doesn't just disappear into self misery and isolation. Somehow, Claire has a feeling that's where the woman has been for a good long while. She picks at the pickles a bit more, almost half through which is more than she thought she'd end up eating tonight. "Dave, you better get in on this if you want any." She teases lightly. THe man'll be getting an excellent tip no matter what, even if he misses the pickles.

Some of that distancing that Claire lives in herself returns as the woman comments on various bastards. Claire gives a slight shrug, "It's the whole damn city, especially up town and farther north... Lots of kids and pcokets of places the rest of New York would rather forget exist. Some people are working on changing it... most? They simply don't give a shit."

Ava Starr has posed:
"Perhaps I will," Ava says. It's no promise. A non-committal response she's been well-trained to give. But there are worse places in the city. As long as she doesn't come so often as to get complacent? She pushes the thought away, reaching for some ketchup to pour just on the side of her plate so she can scrape a fry through it. "Beer's good. Food's alright." A beat. "Never hurts to make new friends." Not that she believes she has. But, it's a politic thing to say. And not an insincere one. New friends... new contacts, really. A medico rarely goes amiss.

She inhales a deep enough breath that it's almost a disdainful sniff at the description of most of the people in the city. "Damn few try to help," she says with a certainty born of experience. "And, even if they do, you can't trust most of them to keep their word longer than it takes to get what they want in exchange. That's just the way the world works."

Claire Temple has posed:
Brown eyes level quietly in Ava's direction as the woman comments on that being the way the world works. There's a bit of sadness behind Claire's features, but also an edge of almost insult. She knows the woman doesn't directly mean her, but they were talking about her job. Claire's jaw sets a bit as she motions to Dave for the check, a little turn of her fingertips to indicate she'll get everything.

"Not everyone, Ava. Most... yeah. But no all. Some of us only want to see our city a *little* bit better than it was yesterday but... I get that's hard to trust if you haven't seen it in a real long time. Still... don't paint everyone with a bitter brush." Claire finishes off her second beer with another good gulp, pulling out her credit card to cover the tab.

Ava Starr has posed:
Ava is astute enough to realize she's inadvertently pissed the woman off. But, that's telling to her, too. Maybe not telling her quite the right things, mind, given that her worldview is a little screwed. "I've met one or two who're better than that," she concedes, eying the other woman somewhat and pulling out some cash to cover her own tab, such as it. She gives a small shake of her head. "But not many."

There's a moment of decision. It's clear enough. She adds a conciliatory note that's a partial apology -- since she has no reason to alienate the woman. "I expect you're one of them, doing what you do." She pushes off her stool. "Good luck, anyway. Fixing the city. You're a better woman than I." Adding a decent tip to her pile of cash, she shoves her hands back into pockets, feeling enough of a tremor coming on that she knows it's time to go. Best gone before she starts spilling afterimages of herself all over the sidewalk.

Claire Temple has posed:
Seeing the pile of cash, she doesn't push it, but lets the woman cover her own tab. Claire understands pride, at least. The boys are getting tipped well no matter what. With that, Claire gives her a half smile and a little tilt of her head, "Well, Ava. It... was interesting to meet you. I hope we get the chance to do this again, for what it's worth. If... if you ever need anything, this is a good place to find... people. Whatever it is." With that, Claire heads for the door. She can at least grab six hours sleep before her next shift, unless someone else comes to bleed on her couch.