The Grace in Divine Meetings

Characters: Grace Choi, Divine
Rated: PG-13 for Language
Summary: Divine runs into Grace Choi on her way home, and the two end up chatting while Grace walks home.
OOC Date: December 20, 2017
IC Date: December 20, 2017
Where: New York

It's 3am. Cheney's has let out for the night, and after seeing everyone out and making sure the rest of the staff got out safely, Grace is walking home tonight. Too much energy to burn. It's not a short walk, either. But, that's part of the whole point. She can pick up her motorcycle tomorrow that's still in the parking lot. It's not as if any of the locals are dumb enough to mess with it — or her.
But, just because all the bars have let out does not mean everyone is safe. Even after customers have left the lots, there are more unscrupulous people who can hide things well, and other bars and joints that are simply not as concerned about who gets let out on the street. And that can make the streets even more dangerous.
Like now.
Where there is a car, swerving to and fro in an otherwise empty street. Not so much the tires are squealing, but just enough that watching it might make you think that the person driving is taking some sort of driving test, zig-zagging here or there. Except the car goes over the sidewalk, plows through a streetlight and a (thankfully) quiet newsstand, and is still gunning forwards. This time, straight for Grace.
"Assholes," snarls Grace, but she doesn't move even as the car is barreling towards her. Instead? She digs her feet in, lowers her center of gravity and as the car slams into her she catches it with her hands, feet moving back against the pavement at first, but quickly enough, before the car can crush Grace against the building, it comes to a dead stop, with the tires still squelching in protest. It's then that Grace slams a fist into the engine block, dooming the car to go to the wrecking yard after the police are done with it for evidence.
"Hey," Grace calls to the driver, and his drunken passenger, "You have about three seconds to get your drunk asses out of there, before I flip your damn car over."

The crash is very audible…even more to those who have heightened senses of hearing, such as another figure currently flying quietly through the cloudy sky. At the sound, she stops, orienting on it, then zooms in with her vision to see what's going on. Huh. Well. That's interesting. She taps her earbud. "Divine, investigating metahuman incident. Delayed return to base." The voice on the other end sighs. "…you know the boss is gonna have a fit if you flitter off again, bird girl." Divine snorts. "It's legitimate this time!" she protests, then flashes down, a little gust of air brushing out of the alley she touches down in, before she steps out on the sidewalk, just a little bit away from where Grace is chewing out the drunk driver. She's dressed in jeans, a simple long-sleeved sweatshirt, scooped at the front, with a snug looking winter vest worn over it. A black hat that reads 'New YOrk City' in font across the upturned front rests over her forehead, with some dark curls spilling out from underneath, and comfortable, military style boots on her feet as she starts sauntering over to get a better look.

The driver keeps pressing the gas a few times, and then starts yelling at his friend in the passenger side. Grace, having had enough, pulls open the door, and pulls the driver out of the car, tilts her head at him, and then she hits him in the gut, hard, and drops him to the ground. Cue gross sounds.
"Next time you drive drunk, asshole, I'm snapping both your hands off." She gives the drunk a disgusted look, and shakes her head, turning to start back on her trek home, when she spots the other woman approaching.
"It's fine," she calls out to the stranger, shoving both her hands in her huge pocketed cargo pants as she walks towards the girl. "Nobody's hurt. Much. Though the jackass will have a headache a mile long. And, I imagine a bit of jail time once the cops catch up to him."

Divine tilts her head a bit at that, eyeing the car and the puking driver, as well as the passenger trying to shove open his door and stumble out. "Gun charge too…." she says, as the not very bright but very inebriated young man pulls a piece from where it was shoved down his pants. "Hey bitch, what th' hell are ya doing?!?" She seems curiously unconcerned, but at the same time, she leans down, snagging a piece of broken pavement, then hauls back and fastballs it into the guy's stomach as he doubles over as well, the gun going off harmlessly into the street as he gags and drops it, falling over.

She aimed a bit lower than his solar plexus. He's not really going to be doing much at all for a bit.

Divine dusts her hands off. "There."

Grace looks curiously at Divine, frowning, "Bit of overkill, don't you think?" You know, with the whole throwing pavement at the guy. But, after seeing the fellow isn't going to bleed out or die, Grace doesn't otherwise seem too concerned. She gives the other woman a pensive look, "Haven't seen you around before. You new?"

"I could have aimed for his head." Divine rotates her arm. "Always had a good fastball arm….mmm?" She puts her hands on her hips, looking Grace over. "New to what?" she asks, curious. "Being here, or are you asking if I have a job around here?" Totally not seeming to care much about the wrecked car or the two incapacitated idiots.

"Metropolis," Grace answers, frowning a touch at how casually Divine talks about ending a life. She shrugs, "We all got jobs, don't we? I work down at Cheney's. Keep the peace. Meta bar. You should stop by sometime, if you like good booze. Good music, too. Decent folk, for the most part."
The overly tall Amazon offers her hand to the other woman, "I'm Grace."

The not-nearly-as-tall-but-more-curvy woman takes the hand, shaking firmly. "Oh, that…yeah, new to Metropolis. Haven't been to Chaney's yet, good stuff? Always up to finding a new place to hang out." She grins, hesitating only slightly. "I'm Karen." Technically, she's KAR-3N*, but dammit, she's gonna have a normal fucking name beyond her code name, even if only a few people actually care to use it. "You off for the night then? Or picking fights with cars your warmup before you head to work?" she says amusedly.

"Closed up an hour ago, decided to walk home. Not tired." She shrugs, casually, "Usually ride my motorcycle back and forth. Figured I'd stretch my legs, tonight. But yeah, Chaney's is good shit. Good food, great drinks, good people. Drop by. Tell them I sent you, if I'm not there."

Grace adds after a moment, "But, clearly you can take care of yourself, or I'd offer to walk you home." She chuckles, just a bit. "Ain't often that happens."

Karen nods. "Girl's gotta be able to handle herself in rougher parts of town. I wouldn't say no to walking back with you though…maybe you can tell me more about what's around here." she says curiously. "I'm assuming you've lived here for a while, anyway."

"Awhile," agrees Grace. She seems to mull it over, and then gives a shrug of her shoulders again. Karen might be overzealous, but Grace doesn't think she's an actual threat. At least, nothing she's shown is. And, well, Grace has dealt with worse in her life than a fight with a woman who can throw concrete like Roger Clemens could throw fastballs. She begins to trudge towards the fairly decent apartment complex where she lives by herself.
"You got a lot here. Pretty much anything you could ever want, unless you're the outdoorsy type, is here. But, even Queensland Park has that covered, to a mild degree. What do you like to do?"

Karen purses her lips, clasping her hands behind her back as you walk. "Mm, dunno that I'm an outdoors girl. I like being in a city, seems more alive. Too quiet in the wilderness." she answers. Of course, she grew up pretty much in a military bunker, even if most of her growing up experience comes from VR sequences. She actually has to stop and consider the question as you walk. "Hmm. I like trying new food. I like exploring and finding new restaurants, that sort of thing. Meeting interesting people. USUALLY not throwing rocks at them." she says with a faint smile.

"Plenty of good restaurants. Indian, Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Mexican, Italian, and good ol' American," assures Grace, "And, to fit all kind of pocketbooks too. Quite a few tech joints, arcades, gaming centers, sports facilities, more than enough to keep most girls busy." Grace chuckles, some. "It's got it's poor side, too, though. Every city has it's dumps, right? IT's not perfect, but I like it well enough. And, every once in awhile you might see someone from the Justice Defenders flying here or there."
However, Grace says this more offhandedly, than anything, knowing some people really get a kick out of superheroes, following them, sighting them. Her? She sounds as if she really doesn't care one way or the other.

Karen perks. "An arcade? Really? I didn't think any of those were around anymore. Is it one of those ones that are attached to a bar and restaurant and stuff?" she says with interest. She frowns slightly at the mention of the Justice Defenders….but not like they'll pick her out of a crowd. Perfectly normal human girl here! As far as anyone knows. "Huh. Do you get some of the Defenders in your bar sometimes?"

The latter question causes Grace to laugh, "Hell no. Why would they? They're up there," she waves a hand all hoighty-toighty-like, "In their big space castle, protecting the world. They don't come down and drink booze with people like you and me." She seems amused, "Don't get me wrong. Glad they're there. But, that life ain't for me. And, I ain't about to idolize anyone. Everyone's got their faults. Me, included."

Karen huhs, nodding a bit. "Well, yeah…everyone does, I guess. So, then, what kind of people do you get in regularly at Chaney's?" she asks curiously. She's finding herself a bit…jealous of Grace, so far. She seems like she's got all the freedom Karen wishes she had sometimes…the ability to go where she wants, when she wants, and to not take any crap from people. Karen can admire that…even little bits of rebellion like her unscheduled stop to meet Grace can get her in all sorts of hot water with the brass.

"Usual types," Grace answers, by way of clientele. "Surly people, rebels, jerks, good folk, drunks, people looking to hook up, and people who generally just want a place to hang without getting tagged as a freak." She shrugs, casually. "Got hired after I was hanging out there, and I broke up a fight by literally throwing both customers across the street and into the next building without damaging the bar. Been working there ever since. Pays good. And, keeps things at least somewhat interesting."

"Sounds like a fun night out." Karen says bemusedly. "And a simply job interview, at least. Is there a lot of trouble there usually with you around, or a lot of people who don't learn from their previous mistakes?" She smiles a bit, hands sliding into her pockets as she walks along. "I mean, I imagine getting thrown through a building takes the moxie out of someone."

"Most folk around there know me by reputation, or I'm at least casual friends with. Or, they respect me because they know I'll twist their arm into a spiral fracture while I'm tossing them out the door if they step out of line. Like I said," Grace chuckles, shoving her hands in her pockets as she walks along. "So, not a whole lot of repeat mistakes. Most trouble comes from newcomers. Or, jackasses thinking they're 'slumming' it by going to a meta bar and go to look at it like a zoo. I'm sure you know the type."

Karen rolls her eyes. "Yeah, get a few beers and suddenly they're sure they can hook up with any metahuman, I'm sure." She looks you over thoughtfully. "You must get a lot of propositions yourself, even as a bouncer." She's not entirely sure how the whole proposition thing works really. She sort of knows it through literature and explanation, but not a lot of first hand experience.

"More than a few," agrees Grace, humored. "Most aren't even sincere, a few are." She chuckles, shrugs, "I tend to intimidate most people. after all. But yeah. I get hit on. Guys. Girls." She shrugs, some. "I have sex with guys. Relationships with girls. But, they both have their good and their bad."

"Ah. Equal opportunity girl, huh?" Karen says thoughtfully, not seeming to be put off by the idea. "I think I'm kinda dating a girl, but not sure." she admits after a moment. "Never been good at reading people like that….I guess you're more practiced as a bouncer maybe." She ponders. "…you'd probably get along with her pretty well, actually, she's kinda rough and tumble."

"You think you are?" Grace looks amused, "Well, better figure it out soon, Karen." She continues walking on, going at a slow, leisurely pace. She adds, "Eh. It's not that I'm rough. I'm just unapologetic. I am who I am, and if you don't like it, tough shit."

"America's like that." Karen says absently, then smiles a bit. "It's kinda what I like about her. And you, I guess. Me…" She shrugs. "I'm kinda home-schooled. So…not…really used to the whole social thing." she says, a bit wistfully. "Sorta still getting my feet again."

Grace pauses, tilting her head, "You know America? America, the punch-happy beer loving Hispanic girl? America Chavez? You're dating her? Huh." She squints, shrugs, nods some, then. "You could be her type, I suppose. She and I go back a bit. We tend to get in a lot of fights, together. Kind of our … tradition. Also, she's one of the few people that can hold her booze as much as me."

Karen's eyes widen slightly in surprise. "Really?! Huh…small world, I guess…" she says. "That definitely sounds like her." she says with a smile. "And…I think I am. We did breakfast burritos…." She mmms. "I didn't…I mean, I didn't ask her, and she didn't ask me, it just sort of…happened, but…" She trails off. "That's cool you know her thought, you seem like the type of person she'd wanna hang out with."

"She'll get a kick out of this, I'm sure." Grace nods briefly, jutting a thumb to a somewhat small, not-quite-posh, but near-upwards-middle-class apartment complex, "And here's home." She pulls her hand out of her pocket, and hands Karen a card for Chaney's, but on the back it has a handwritten phone number on it. "Give me a call if you want to go out drinking sometime, or just shoot the shit, yeah? You seem like decent people. And, any friend of America's."

Divine looks surprised, then takes the card. "Yeah….I'll do that.' she says with a smile. "Don't got a phone right now, but…when I get one, I'll call. Or I'll just stop by sometime and check it out." She touches her temple with a pair of fingers in a little salute. "Have a good night Grace, nice to meet you." She waves, then continues down the street. "Sleep tight!"

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