basic_powers | Seattle, the invitation for Dinah

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Seattle, the invitation for Dinah

He is a man of his word, and one more than capable of figuring out how to get people in and out of his world with little issue. That's why he and Dinah emerge from the third stall of the Unisex bathroom of the Seattle Public Library. It's clean, quiet, and most importantly of all, devoid of security cameras.

"Be this portal ever so humble."

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"Would the dear lady prefer the Aztec Chocolate Martini or the Lemon Lavender Cheesecake Martini?"

...oooh both! Dinah looks honestly torn.

"Split them both with you?"

"Ha, fair enough, and one of my regular." Beauford chuckles, heading back down to the bar.

To be fair it's gotten busier since he came in, so it's a good 10 minutes before he's back with a tray of drinks, one creamy yellow with whipped cream on top, one dark brown and thick looking, and his odd rootbeer float thing from before.

Those were ten minutes in which Dinah ate a lot of the food that they had. She has an appetite! And a thirst for the drinks.

"Why do I get the feeling I'm going to end up hammered tonight?"

"Because Mel and Murphy don't mix lightly on their shifts?" Beauford smiles. "Worst comes to it, we find a door and head back that way, or ask Jasil for a ride."

"I have a drinks stirrer," Dinah says, fumbling at the neck of her sweater, where a thin chain can be seen around her neck. "Never leave the place without it. They can help with doors."

Beauford takes something out of his wallet, one very beaten up drink coaster, that looks to be kept together with packing tape.

"Yep."

Dinah retucks the chain back in, the plastic disc knocking against the discreet black device hanging next to it. That, she also never leaves home without.

"Let me guess; got stuck one too many times and decided you weren't having that again?"

"Three too many times to be honest." Beauford shrugs, tucking it back into the wallet. "All three times made me wish I could remember where I had kept this little bit around."

"Bet they're more interesting than my 'eloped to Vegas and dropped out of college' story."

"The first one not so much, I happened to get sick with a really nasty case of pneumonia and had to go on enough antibiotics that.. Well. Let's just say I missed my second chance at the Olympics because the penicillin made me fail a certain test." Beauford smirks, taking a sip from the Aztec Chocolate martini. "The second time was not long after the horrible terrible breakup happened."

What's very strange is that he'd even consider trying out. Dinah's most recent Olympics didn't have medals for women's Judo, but it'd just be unsporting to try.

"Oh god, just when you need a break from reality," Dinah commiserates. "The Landlord makes you deal with it."

"Yeah, for five years he made me deal with it." Beauford mutters, taking another sip from the Aztec Martini before switching for the lemon cheesecake martini. "The third most notable time was...well. You want to hear how I got the scars?"

"Yeah," Dinah says, picking up the Aztec while it's free. "Let's hear it."

She'd never have asked directly, because there are Rules. But she's always interested.

"Right." The names of this story have been omitted to fit his current identity, for the safety of all involved. "I was heading to file some paperwork, legal stuff to get into the Olympic tryouts at a Courthouse in Missouri. I am literally getting off the bus there and jogging up the steps because I wanted to get this stuff done so it wouldn't be a problem when I got there. About half a block away is this construction site, and I am not thinking much about the noise coming from it at first."

"Then, the sounds of something going boom in the physical sense got my attention, and as I'm turning and staring. I am literally seeing a super-villan raging through it. And I never got a good look at him cause the next thing I knew, I had been hit down by something and there was a lot more screaming and yelling going on. For some reason, when I opened my eyes, I was looking into the doors of the courthouse, which had steel rebar sticking through it in the glass and the pillars, and I can't stand up without my ribs just being on fire, so I look down and...three bars of rebar."

He taps the three spots where the circular scars are.

"I think that's the point where I started screaming. And then the noises of more people shouting and something exchanging punches started up behind me. Next thing I know there's a guy who just appeared with a burst of displaced air in front of me, doesn't even bother asking if I'm hurt, because you know holy CHRISTFUCK steel rebar through the torso, apologizes for what's about to hurt, but he's going to get me to medical attention."

...Christ

Dinah winces, strongly and visibly. "That must have required some medical work. Crap. Did you ever find out who it was?"

Because that's what she focuses on; the blame and responsibility of the situation.

"Yeh, when he rolled me over I must have passed out, but ended up coming to in the Ambulance, with a paramedic telling me I'm going to be just fine." There's another wince. "I found out the guy who'd been throwing the rebar was a second-string villan, Trummerhand. He'd been trying to do something to the building under construction when he just snapped. Found out the speedster who saved me was part of the local hero team, went by the name Lightfoot."

"Never got to thank him for saving my hide."

"Don't think that's altogether necessary," Dinah remarks. "Not even speedsters can stop for thanks."

"Well. Then I'll just have to keep saying 'thank you for saving my life', by finding ways to help the metahuman community as a whole." Beauford smiles, raising the creamy yellow martini glass. "I might not have superpowers, but I can certainly lend my head and hands to a good cause."

"See, that's what I don't get," Dinah says, and lowers her voice a little. "The idea that you have to have superpowers to help people."

It never stopped her Mom, or Uncle Ted, or Bruce or...

"Your average joe tends to run into a few issues with that, rescources, expertise and local to my world some sort of unwritten rule by the government establishment run my metahumans." Beauford replies back his voice an equally low tone. "There's a handful of superheroes that I know of in my world that don't use superpowers to help people."

"The Revenant being the most prominent, followed only by someone called Moon Shadow. They're somewhat analogous to your world's Batman I think, except they're never based solely out of one town."

"Wild cat wasn't based out of one town, either," Dinah remarks, relying on the loudness of the club to mask her words.

"It's hard, though, to be decently mobile if you're relying on technological transport. That's why non-flyers hover around cities."

"Harder still to keep up and fight in colossal battles with giant aliens, the monster that ate Old Vegas or any other threats of those scales without a small personal army." Or superpowers. "Most non-powered heroes are rare these days, or don't even make the news and just stay within their city."

"However....that being said, fighting crime is not the only way I can think of thanking the superhero community as a whole."

"No," Dinah says quickly. "there are lots of ways that most people don't even think of until they need it."

Snapper Carr, for instance, is indispensible.

"Cooking, cleaning, lawyer assistance, or even handling things like auto repair..." Beauford smiles. "Or right now, by making sure one of them at least has a relaxing evening."

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