Three Mystical Beings Enter A Bar

November 02, 2014:

Paul and Sara have drinks with Morien, while discussing a variety of topics.

East Side of Midtown Manhattan

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions:

Mood Music: None.


Fade In…

There is very unique club and bar that is located seven blocks from the UN building. The club is often visited by a good mix of people that work and live in the east side of Midtown Manhattan, including a lot of foreign dignitaries. Because of the mix of people, the music and the food provide a large variety of different choices.
Sunday Evening is open mic night. It is normally an interesting fair, because who doesn't want to hear such unique bunch of people recite poetry, tell off colored-jokes, play music, of even sing karaoke.
Morien is sitting at the bar with an instrustment case at his feet and small glass of red wine in front of him.

"I'm pretty much running out of excuses," Sara is saying to Paul as they walk into the bar, shaking her head. "Was working the senator's thing, one of the mounted officers saw me before I could shut everything down. I told him one of the mutants threw something at me. Maybe he'll shrug it off. But it's just one more thing that could show up in the file, you know?"
"Are you really that concerned about them figuring it out?" Paul asks as they enter, glancing around tot ake stock of the patrons. "What's the worst that can happen? It's not like there's a law against it. And if they don't want you, lots of agencies would. Probably pay better too."

A trio of French diplomats with thick accents are singing Jack Wagner's version of "All I Need."
Morien turns his head at the mention of mutants, before taking a deep gulp of his glass of glass. He bends down to pick up his instrument case and places it on the bar.

"Kind of?" Sara grimaces. "It's less the finding a new job part. I mean, yeah, NYPD is where my heart is, but you're right, I can find work somewhere. Not that I've got a lot of savings, but I could probably ask Steve for help. That wouldn't be- okay, that would be extremely awkward, but I could manage. It's more the hoping that it wouldn't call into question every case I've worked on since I got my shield, you know? It's been six years or so, that's a lot of ugly appeals." She heads toward the bar, stepping around a group of Japanese businessmen.

"First of all, they certainly wouldn't go around telling everyone." Paul points out. "And second, it in no way affects your cases. It's no more than a gun or vest and doesn't change the actual police work. You worry too much. And since it looks like he's not here, and by the time we get back we'll be off duty, why don't we just relax and have a drink? Who knew important people liked to make fools of themselves doing karaoke."

"Everyone should enjoy making a fool of themselves from time to time." Morien turns his gaze towards the duo, "Please, forgive me for eavesdropping, I mean partially eavesdropping. I was momentarily distracted by the song." Morien turns to the bartender and says, "Please, a couple of drinks for New York Finest. I assuming you are both New York Finest from my eavesdropping. I guess I should apologize for interrupting too. Morien opens his case to reveal a trumpet.
On the stage, a Wall Street Banker recites an angst ridden poem called, "I Could Buy My Father's House!"

"Drinks sound good," Sara admits, leaning an elbow on the bar just as she turns toward Morien. For a moment, when she first sees him, she goes very still, something flickering behind her eyes. Whatever it is, though, she seems to have it under control, taking a breath and letting it out slowly. "Thanks," she finally says, summoning up a small smile.

"You know, I'm starting to wish we could do more of the important stuff full time and leave the more mundane stuff to those who can't do the former." Paul tells Sara before Morien makes his offer. "We are, yes. Thank you. And no apologies necessary. If we wanted strict privacy, we wouldn't be talking in public."

"My company has some holding in some private security firms. We are always looking for new areas of growth. I doubt that it would be increasing popular venture here, but maybe in the firms located in South American and Africa. North America seems to have too many people dressing up and putting stop to stuff, and competent polices." Morien says, "Well, most places in North America.
Morien stands up from his seat and grabs his trumpet. "Wish me luck. Morien goes to the microphone and plays, "Mood Indigo" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GohBkHaHap8
He plays it is his usual style that is base on someone who has not truly gifted, but someone who has practice the trumpet to great lengths, so there is some passion missing when he plays it.

"If you could find people who could be trusted to stand up to the weird stuff, you'd probably have a market," Sara starts to say, pausing politely as the bartender comes back with her drink. As Morien goes to play, she watches the performance, turning a sidelong glance on Paul. "I'm not the only one getting a vibe here, right?" she murmurs.

Paul takes his drink whent he bartender sets it down and takes a sip, watching Morien go play. "Hell no and more than a vibe. I'll tell you more outside but not related to the place I visited. We definitely need a codeword for this kind of thing."

Morien finishes his trumpet solo and receives a few drunk claps from the audience, and makes his way back to his seat. He quickly places his trumpet back in his case, closes the lid, and places the case underneath his chair. Morien lets out a sigh, "Well, I am finished with that bit of foolishness, now on to more noble pursuits of foolishness. Morien calls to the bartender to bring him some Cognac. Morien turns his attention back to Paul and Sara, "So, what do you think of my little performance. It was not too bad, was it?"

"What, vibe doesn't work?" Sara smirks faintly at Paul, taking a drink and letting out a breath. "Maybe it's benign and I wan't have to get into trouble tonight. Though you might want to steer clear of Trent for a bit, by the way, seems like he's had some unusual…upgrades." She trails off as Morien returns, adding polite applause at the end of the piece. "It was better than I can do," she points out with a grin. "And considerably less depressing than mister Wall Street, so that's an improvement."

"No indication it's not no matter how freaky." Paul says, clapping when everyone else does. He does shoot her a curious glance when she brings up Trent but that's also for outside. "Not at all. It was quite good. You've obviously been playing a while."

"Yes, awhile." Morien looks down at the case for a moment as if lost in thought and says, "I heard a brave boy play it once, and I decided to take it up. Morien takes hold of Cognac and takes a deep gulp of the drink, before raising his glass to Sara and Manning, "Here is to acts of foolishness, and to those who protects against the weird stuff." Morien takes another gulp.
"So much weird stuff," Sara says ruefully, raising her glass before taking a drink. The jewel in her bracelet catches the light oddly, though it's hidden by the sleeve of her jacket when she lowers her hand again. "Though it seems like the world could use a little more tolerance for weird stuff lately. Getting real tired of watching all these politicians who are trying to do the right thing get shot at."

Paul raises his glass as well then takes a sip. "And the rest of them spurring on people to do the shooting. Even if they are careful enough not to say anything that could specifically be laid at their feet. They have all the buzzwords down though."

"It is that not the nature of the world. People trying to do the right thing, and others trying to stop them." Morien sticks his finger in the glass of Cognac, "The reals problems are when someone who believes that they are doing the right thing and is completely wrong. I have learn that the more powerful a person is the more likely that person believe their actions are not evil. Morien says, "One must always make sure that when all is said and done that they were truly on the side of the angels, the righteous, or the weak, depending on what you believe in.
A young Korean woman begins to tell some very crude jokes.

"In my experience, most aren't even thinking about right or wrong," Sara shakes her head. "They're thinking about what's going to work best for them. What they want. And what they have to do to get it. I mean, sure, you get some ideologues, and they're dangerous. But the vast majority of people committing crimes? They had a desire, they followed through on it."

Paul nods at what Sara says. "Money or power. Or both. And they really don't care who or what is in their way." He shrugs once, frowning at the woman on stage. "That seems a little out of place."

Morien looks back at the Korean woman as the group of Japanese businessmen that Sara passed coming into the club get up and leave in anger. The Korean woman smirks and ends her set
Morien shakes his head, "She does it to piss the Japanese off. Her grand-mother had a very hard life under Japanese occupation during War War II. Morien peers down at his Cognac, "I think human nature is more complex to why they commit crimes. In Africa, there was thing called umoja villages. There were no laws, and everyone lived in peace." Morien raises his arms in a shrug, "But, what do I know on the subject of human nature. I am sure you have seen more than your share of the worse of society, and I am just a businessman.

"You know, I've heard there are some places in Europe where they've done away with traffic laws, and it's cut accidents some ridiculous percentage," Sara muses with a glance to Paul. "I mean, not that I'm advocating or anything, but, you know. Granted, traffic laws are a little more arbitrary than hey, don't kill someone and take their stuff."

"Who's talking about human nature? We're talking criminal nature." Paul counters then glances at Sara. "Which, I think, is a little more complicated than a rebellion to being told what to do. But that's for the shrinks and the politicians to figure out. We just clean up the messes and try to keep the innocents from getting hurt."
"I was not implying that rebellion against laws are why criminals commit crimes. Well, it is not important…

" Morien takes another sip from his Cognac. "So, how long two have been on the force? You both don't seem that much older than me. I would really hate to know that I could have had a more exciting life as a cop than a yuppie who plays jazz for kicks.

"Ten years on the force," Sara answers as she takes another drink. "Eight years a detective. I used to be the youngest one around," she adds with a flicker of a wry smile. "But, you know. That doesn't last forever. Which is not the worst thing ever, actually. I've been around long enough now that I get a lot less of the old boys club doubt."

"Eleven years. And you could definitely have had a more exciting life as a cop." Paul tells the man. "Which makes being a jazz playing yuppie the better choice all things considered. I should have taken up an instrument but it wouldn't have gotten me out of Gotham."

"Gotham? I would probably focus on just leaving Gotham if I was born there too." Morien laughs, "Actually, I try to focus on never doing going to Gotham. I thought about seeing if I could do some business with Wayne Industries, but then I realize I would have to go to Gotham. Morien takes another gulp of his Cognac, "Feckin Gotham, you never know what type of crazy stuff is going to happen there, but I digress.
Morien says, "You made detective in two years, you must be incredibly smart or is that normal?" He looks over at Paul, "How long did take you to make detective?"

Sara smirks faintly. "Smart, sure. And determined," she adds, raising a single finger. "But mostly, I think it comes down to having a knack for it. It's not normal, that's for sure."

"It took me eight years." Paul answers then flashes Sara a quick grin. "I'm not as pretty as she is. You made a wise decision, staying out of Gotham. The place is a horror."

"Speaking of horrors, my board is going to be horrified if I cancel another meeting this week." Morien reaches into his wallet and hands some cash to the bartender, "Please, let the detective have their fill, and whatever's is your tip." Morien turns back to Sara and Paul, "It was a pleasure to meet you both, If you ever need my assistance, please do not hesitate to call. Morien picks up his case and says, "I am not exactly sure why you would need my assistance, but at the very least if you happened to be in the area on Sunday nights, you know you don't have to pay for your drinks here

"They had to beat the army out of you," Sara corrects Paul with a smirk, straightening somewhat as Morien rises. "Thank you," she says politely, dipping her chin to the man. "Nice meeting you. I've got a feeling we'll cross paths again some time."

"Marines." Paul accompanies the correction with a mock glare before looking back to Morien. "A pleasure meeting you. We may indeed stop by now and again to hear you play. Have a good evening."

Morien flashes a brief glimpse of admiration at Paul, when he mentions the Marines, before making his way through the crowd. He calls over his shoulder. "Stay safe. >

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