2019-04-27 - Dancing With a Pretty Girl


Anya runs into a stranger at a club, and they share some things that are troubling each other.

Log Info:

Storyteller: None
Date: Sat Apr 27 22:56:42 2019
Location: Therapy

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Therapy goes through a few significant changes over the course of a Saturday evening. There are the non-happy hour happy hour crowds; older types who go out early and usually turn in by 8, regardless of whether there's a happy hour happening or not. The younger party crowd comes in next, and around 2am, most of them filter out, headed home, or to after parties, or to, well, hookups.

That first transformation is in place right now, as folks begin filtering into the place, ready for a Saturday night of dancing, drinking, and overall hedonism. Anya Corazon had been convinced to come here by one of her NYU friends; a queer fellow from a wealthy family who could tell that something was bothering her. Her drinks are paid for tonight, which is at least something.

The young Latina student is dressed for the occasion. She's wearing a black leather jacket bearing no shortage of pins and patches, beneath which is worn a black leotard with shiny blue accents. A black miniskirt shows long legs, wrapped in black tights and a layer of blue fishnet down to the one pair of black heels the young woman owns. Her makeup is heavy in a goth manner, and she's just added bright blue highlights to her hair. A pink, blue and yellow armband adorns her chest, and a pentagram is worn from her beck. Nails are painted a glowing blue, and she's a few drinks in, which has certainly taken the edge off. The backpack she usually wears has been traded out for a white clutch, emblazoned with a gigantic NIN insignia.

At the moment, she's smirking and talking with a trans couple at the downstairs bar, and the three of them throw back shots of tequila with lime chasers.

It's also the time where those who are just a bit underage but also really needing a night to themselves slip in…usually by being pretty enough that the bouncers overlook it with a small bribe and a fairly well done fake ID. Then again, it's not like Sarah can use her own ID…a night here to rest, to recover, then back to the road. It helps if she considers it a road trip more than fleeing for their freedom.

Needless to say, she could use a break way from things…and so she returns to Therapy, which she finds ironic at the moment, namewise. At least she can dance, right? She doesn't have the finest club clothes…a very low cut black buttonup blouse that is tied under tanned breasts, leaving her muscular abdomen bared, and ripped jeans (though because of damage rather than intent), and moccasin styled boots with a soft fringe of leather running down the back, her long hair worn loose and falling down her back like a obsidian waterfall. She takes a breath, looking around as she sips in, getting some looks. If nothing else, she looks like she's alone, and that does draw predators….

The trans couple take note of Sarah, and gesture for Anya to as well. There comes a brief moment of concern, after which she tells the couple that she'll keep an eye on her. Therapy has a good reputation, but one can never be too careful.

Separating herself from the couple, she walks up to the bar near Sarah and plops down onto a stool. "Hi!" she tells the bartender, getting his attention quickly (ah, the power of good eyeshadow). "Shot of Jimador, silver." A glance is given to Sarah, and she smirks. "Two. Two shots!" Leaning over she tells Sarah, "Don't worry. Friend of mine's folks are loaded, cash coming out of their assholes. He's paying."

Sarah takes a moment to realize she's being talked to, as she's sort of…well, she doesn't QUITE have the full on 'small town girl in big city' look in her eyes, but she's definitely looking slightly overwhelmed as to what to do first. She looks over, then raises a brow. "…ah, thanks….what…exactly am I drinking?" she says, a bit bemusedly.

"It's tequila," Anya answers, then does a double take. "Oh, shit! If you don't drink, I can-" She turns to the bartender, trying to get his attention. "Hey!"

"No, I can drink." the Native American girl says immediately, her eyes twinkling a bit. "I mean, they wouldnt' have let me in if I couldnt', right?" Perfect logic! "And obviously you can, so it's fine for you to order it anyway." she adds.

"Need something else?" The bartender asks.

"No," Anya answers, laughing. "No, we're good." She takes the shots and slides one over to the girl, mischief written on her face. "Salud!" she toasts, then drops the shot back with practiced ease.

SArah takes a breath as she picks it up. There's always a little flash in her memories when she smells alcohol, particularly tequila, of her uncle Billy. She mentally toasts him. "Salud…" she says, then knocks it back, before letting out a little gasp as she huffs, setting the empty glass down on the ground. "You always buy random girls drinks?" she says amusedly.

"No," Anya answers with a laugh. "Only when someone else is buying." She's polite enough avoid mentioning the real reason why she's buying the drink. "I'm Anya." She turns to introduce her other friends, but it would seem they've already made their way upstairs where the dancing has started.

Sarah glances over, and this time gives Anya more of a quick once over before meeting her gaze directly. "Sarah." she says softly, a faint hint of a southwestern twang to her voice. "Sorry, were you needing to go after your friends, or…" she adds, noticing the glance after the pair vanishing up to the dance floor.

"You kidding?" Anya answers. "Right now they're doing things I do not want to be a part of." She isn't going to expound on what exactly that is. "Besides, you're here by yourself, and trust me, this is not a fun place to be at alone. So like, you live here? Visiting?"

Sarah's lips twitch a bit at that "I can take care of myself generally. I mean, I've broken one of the first rules of going to a bar alone, drinking something someone else ordered for you." she says amusedly, her eyes twinkling a bit. "And now, I'm…I'm just passing through. Needed some time away from things."

That causes Anya to sober a little, and it shows. She looks away from Sarah, biting her lower lip a bit, which only serves to mess up her black lipstick. It wasn't expensive stuff, after all. "I know what you mean," she says quietly, before looking back. "Well, you saw him pour it, so you're fine."

Sarah waves it off. "I'm teasing…" she promises, smiling a bit, then tilts her head a bit, before she pauses to order a margarita. "…something up with you?" she says thoughfully. "I mean..if….if you want to talk about it. I mean, if you can't trust a stranger in a bar to listen, who can you trust?" she says, that wry humor coming back into her voice.

Sarah gets a look. Who can you trust indeed. It might become apparent that Anya has some complicated trust issues. She looks to the bartender and makes a nod of her head, which prompts him to bring her a beer. "Patio," she says, and kicks herself off the bar stool, so that she can head for the hidden outdoor patio.

Its quieter out there, only a handful of smokers around and everyone seems to be talking quietly with their parties. Anya finds a brick wall and perches herself upon it, crossing her legs for decency's sake. "It's… um, it's complicated," she tries, and goes quiet as she tries to think.

The native girl follows you out after a moment, carrying her brightly colored red drink, looking curious. If a bit unsure. She leans next to the other girl, her dark eyes watching her thoughfully. "Yeah….know what you mean." she murmurs softly, sipping from her drink as she lets Anya compose her thoughts.

"I kinda… had a near death experience," Anya says. "While… uh…" She seems suddenly very skeptical about all of this, but really… the girl doesn't know her last name, and if there's anyone it's safe to bring this up with, it's a stranger in a bar. She seems hopeful for a moment, then shakes her head. "If I tell you, you're gonna think I'm crazy."

"You'd be suprised." the Apache woman says cryptically, then sips from her drink again slowly, eyes still on Anya. Letting her get it out in her own time, thus far.

Skeptically, Anya studies Sarah before taking a deep drink from her beer. "I was… kind of doing some vigilante shit," she admits. "And… something bad happened, but then something happened to me." She's leaving out a lot of details. "Something… super weird and f… its kinda kept me up. I can't sleep, ya know? Can't get it outta my damn head."

Sarah tilts her head, listening quietly. After a moment, she prods gently. "What happened, then? You said you had a near death experience…were you hurt badly?" She glances over the other woman briefly again…if she's seriously injured it's not obvious, at least.

"I wasn't hurt at all," Anya answers. "Like, I fell probably seventy, maybe eighty feet? Didn't get hurt at all." She draws a deep breath, suddenly feeling very nervous about all of this. "I can apparently transform into, like, a monster or something."

Sarah raises a brow, but for some reason, she doesn't seem to doubt it as much as most people would. "A monster? So you….changed, and that's why you survived it? Like…a werewolf or something?" The other girl sips from her drink, resting her other arm over her midriff as she considers the story.

"Like a bug, or an insect," Anya admits, and takes another drink. "I mean, I definitely felt the ground, you know? But it didn't hurt. Like, at all. Totally broke my fall."

Sarah raises both brows this time, then considers. "So…you turned…all buggy? LIke…carapace, wings, mandibles, the whole deal?" She thinks a bit. "Well, first off….you're alive because you could. So I'd say it's beneficial thus far, right?"

"I don't know," Anya answers. "I didn't have a mirror to look in, ya know? Look, I promise I wasn't on acid or anything. This was… very real. And I'm not, exactly, surprised about it, but. It's just… really creepy. I keep wondering what else is gonna happen to me, like what if it happened here? Right now?" She glances about, worried. "That wouldn't be good."

Sarah considers. "…okay. How old are you? And have you recently been having…I dunno. Weird dreams. Sensations. Like…" She pauses, to think. "Like something is trying to push out of you? Not literally, I mean, but…like you're feeling something inside you that's giving pressure."

This is such a weird question. Anya eyeballs Sarah for a moment, frowning. "Uh. 21, just. And… weird dreams, not really, but…" She shakes her head. "No, not like that. But." She bites her lip. "I did, kinda, stumble upon this weird rock. Underground. Seriously, this sounds crazy, but it glowed, knocked me out, and when I woke up it was gone and… everything was different."

"Different how?" The Apache says, still apparently taking all of this at face value. "You felt different? You sensed something was different in a way you couldnt' before?" She smiles. "Physical changes?"

Anya nods to the latter, after drinking from her beer again. "Can't really talk about those. Hell, I shouldn't be talking about any of this, but." She shrugs and grins at the younger woman. "Tequila."

Sarah ponders, watching you for a moment, then holds out her empty hand, palm up. After a moment, the air over it seems the thicken, becoming a soft fog that starts to rotate slowly, becomign a minature little dust devil in the palm of her hand.

At the display, Anya's eyes widen. She looks from the little dust devil and up into Sarah's eyes, then quickly reaches out and puts her hand over Sarah's, hoping it will silence the display before anyone else can see. Then, she seems to visibly relax, drawing a deep and steadying breath.

The display vanishes as Anya puffs her hand through it, as Sarah blinks. Then gets a faint flush as…well, now she's having her hand held and she's not quite sure how to take that. She clears her throat, then murmurs. "You're not the only person with weird about them."

Quickly, Anya yanks her hand away, a flush coming to her face. "Apparently," she remarks, then shakes her head. "A friend told me I shouldn't talk about it. Said it could put my family in danger. He's… been at this longer than me, so, I gotta trust him."

The other girl nods seriously, her eyes darkening. "…it will. If you're going to use it….get a mask. Something. Don't let people see your face in public." she says quietly. "Or someone will come for you." There's…something in her voice at that. Also the fact she takes a deeeeep drink of her margarita after that, practically finishing it. Then letting out a little 'yeep!' as she holds her head from drinking something cold too fast.

"I already have a mask," Anya tells her. "And I'm clever. I know things. But I'm not an idiot. I mean, I'm only 21. I think I'm smart, but I don't know the first thing about this. I've watched, ya know, movies. TV. Stuff that isn't real, and it's only gonna get me so far." She draws a deep breath. "And I'm worried. Like, what else is gonna change? You know?"

The Apache woman sighs, then finishes off her drink before setting it down, before she moves a little closer, then reaches out to give Anya's hand a comforting squeeze. "It's not easy, but it sounds like you know the dangers. Find someone you trust, maybe? To show you the ropes. Teach you how to do this, if it's really what you want." She shakes her head, her long hair swaying behind her. "You don't have to be a vigilante either. There's no rule that says you have to live that life, just because you've got…gifts."

"I know," Anya answers, squeezing the woman's hand, then reaching with the other to join in the clasp. "And I have," she says. "It's not that. I've gone over it, again and again. I know I don't have to, I'm doing it because I want to." She shakes her head and smiles, finally feeling herself at ease and able to open up a little more. "I'm just scared." It takes a lot for her to admit that; a rough girl from a rough neighborhood. "Roughing up petty thugs is one thing, but… it's already becoming more than that, and… I can't just walk away from it."

Sarah nods slowly, her fingers curling against Anya's. "Well. You're ahead of the game, having someone to show you how to do things. To help you to get used to your powers, who wants to help, not just use you." she says simply. "You need people like that. If you don't have them, well…" She inhales, then lets it out as a breath. "…all you can do is run. And you don't seem the type."

"And you?" Anya asks without missing a beat. She looks at the young woman with an unfaltering gaze, her expression both intimidating and insightful at once. "Are you running?"

Sarah's eyes twitch away slightly, before she reaches up with her free hand to tuck a loose strand of hair over her shoulder. "Yes." she says steadily. "I can't stop. My friends need me. Not until they're safe."

Anya nods her head slowly. The throbbing bass is nothing more than background noise at this point. "Well, stop," she says. "Cause you aren't alone anymore."

Sarah smiles weakly. "…I can't." she says simply, leaning in close. "Thank you, but I can't. The people after us…you can't hide from them. I have to keep them on me. Just a bit longer."

For a moment, Anya seems confused. It only lasts a moment, and she squeezes Sarah's hand again. "I happen to be pretty good at beating up bad guys," she tells her. "So. Ya know. When the time is right? I got a burner phone, just make the call."

Sarah pause for a moment, then reaches into her pocket. "Okay. I'll…I'll give you mine too. When this is…when I've lost them, I mean. I'll give you a call?" she says softly, smiling a bit. Doesn't quite reach her eyes anymore.

And she pulls out a cheap phone of her own.

Releasing Sarah's hands, she forms a slight frown. "Maybe… think about not waiting that long?" she asks, while pulling her own old phone out and punching up her second number. The phone is slid over for Sarah to view. "You might not lose them. Ya know?"

Sarah meets Anya's eyes for a moment after putting in the number and hers back. "Maybe. But if I don't get away…they're going to fucking know what it's like to face me when I don't hold back." she says, iron in her voice.

"As well they should." There's a glimmer of fire in Anya's eyes when she recognizes that fighting spirit, and reaches to clink her beer against Sarah's nearly empty margarita class.

After downing the rest of her beer, she sets the glass down and grabs Sarah's hand. "Come on. My friends are upstairs dancing, and we should be too!"

Sarah grins and squeezes it, her eyes twinkling. "Damn straight!" she agrees, and lets herself be pulled onto the dance floor. Where she can forget things tonight, and enjoy just…dancing with a pretty girl.

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