Just Here For A Drink [Rowdy]

[Deleted]

It's late. So late that it's technically early, at least according to the clock. And Shayera should be asleep - sunrise is less than seven hours away. But she can't sleep. Her mind is churning the same thoughts around over and over again. But insomnia is nothing new to her, at least for half a year or so. Sighing to herself, she decides to give up on sleep for a little while. Perhaps it will come more easily to her if she takes a break from her bed.

Letting herself wander, she sees the large hatchway that opens up to the roof in the slanted wall of the loft she's living in. Technically the large room that she's renting wasn't meant to be occupied by anyone except for the occasional maintenance worker. But that's only because it would have been difficult to divide it into the square boxes humans seem to like to live in, and it suits her needs perfectly. And it wasn't hard to convince the building's owner to let her use the space, especially since she's willing to pay rent. One of the features she most likes about the room is the direct access to the roof, as she's certainly not going to attempt to maneuver herself to and from her apartment through the confines of an elevator or staircase everyday.

Stepping outside, the cold night air greets her. The light breeze pulls at her wings, and she finds herself tempted to take to the skies. Well, why not? Perhaps a little flying will help clear her head. She steps inside for a moment to change into something more presentable than her nightgown, grabs her mace (she never leaves home without it), and then she's in the air. As she flies, she finds herself keeping an eye out for Batman - not to try and find him but to avoid him, as she's not in the mood to deal with him right now. Sighing to herself, it doesn't take her long to realize that flying is failing to distract her from her troubled thoughts either.

Glancing down at the streets below her, a nightclub catches her eye. Not for any reason in particular except that it's one of a very few businesses that are even open at this hour. Well, except that cross-referencing the time posted on the door with the time displayed on the bank down the street indicates that it will be closing in 15 minutes. And a part of her notes that 15 minutes would be more than enough time to enjoy a drink, which may help settle her thoughts since the flying didn't work.

Well, except that she knows that she can't go anywhere that public and expect to enjoy herself. She's a superhero, after all - still a household name even after being absent from the news for six months. And unlike most of the others she has no way of setting all of that aside and just being normal. It's the wings - those large, unhidable appendages that permanently mark her as being different from everyone else on this planet. They prevent her from just going in there for a drink without getting stared at, whispered about (never mind that her ears are sharp enough to catch every word), asked for autographs, asked stupid questions, or sometimes even challenged to a fight by someone who doesn't think she looks so tough. Irritating, to say the least.

But tonight that thought really bothers her. She'd been normal on Thanagar. Well, she'd been famous enough in the military to get too much attention there too, but there'd always been the officer's club where everyone was close enough to her own rank to not fawn over her, at least. Here on Earth the Justice League's headquarters had served a similar function - a place where she wasn't considered strange and felt like she could belong. But now that's closed to her, and the ugly feeling of not belonging anywhere rears its ugly head at her again. And that's frustrating - she knows that she doesn't belong on Thanagar, and outside of Earth there's nowhere else in the galaxy that she has any connection to. So if she doesn't belong on Earth, among its 7 billion inhabitants, then she doesn't belong anywhere.

Spurred on by that thought, she finds herself landing just outside the front doors to the nightclub. She's never heard of Rowdy's before, but given her limited knowledge about specific businesses in the city that's not surprising. Doubly so because it's new. Reassuring herself that it's probably going to be fairly empty at this time of night and so close to closing time, she heads inside.

Only to be greeted by the sound of conversations abruptly stopping when she's noticed and the sight of at least two dozen sets of eyes staring in her direction. Ugh, so it begins - she shouldn't have come here. But deciding that turning around and leaving would be worse than forging ahead, she instead walks over to the bar and selects the stool that's closest to the far wall - perhaps if she's not sitting so conspicuously, she'll be easier for everyone to ignore.

Sighing as she sits down, she tries to ignore everyone else as she waves over the bartender. "I'm only here for a drink," she says wearily, already assuming that he'll assume that she's here looking for someone or doing something else related to crime fighting. No, she's just a customer, thanks. "A beer, and I'll get out of your hair," she adds, also automatically assuming that he'll not want her to stick around for very long since her mere presence is causing a slight disruption to the other customers - one that's likely to get worse just as soon as everyone stops being surprised to see her.

[Deleted]

Before Shayera had entered his establishment, barkeep Rowdy Yates was busy entertaining three beautiful (and drunk) ladies.  The women hanging all over him were sexy and definitely on the make, but Rowdy wasn’t playing their game, nor was he about to take advantage of them in their current stupor.  He was polite to them all, but only polite.

One of them was acting so obnoxiously that it took all of Rowdy’s willpower to stay gentlemanly.  He thought about throwing cold water on her.  Then he eyed the bottles of seltzer under the bar and thought about using his telekinesis to open them and spray her with them.  Imagining the scene in his mind’s eye made him chuckle to himself.  Then he decided to get serious, do the right thing, and call for a cab to take them all home.

While on the phone, he glanced up and caught the scowl on the face of the woman who had just entered and seated herself at the far end of the bar.  With a wink and a smile, he walked over to introduce himself and to take her order.

"You made it just in time for Last Call," he greeted.  "Name your poison."

Before he could say anything more, she stopped him short.

"I'm only here for a drink.  A beer, and I'll get out of your hair."

At this late hour, Rowdy assumed from the weary look on her face that she was either an insomniac or dealing with some pretty major issues in her life, or both.

“A beer? You’ve got it,” he told her, smiling as if he already knew all her secrets.  Then he looked at her softly with his thoughtful blue eyes, as if they’d already been intimate.  He definitely had confidence down to a fine art.  Combine that with his charm, his gorgeous face, and his strong, honed body, and he made spectacular eye candy.

Just then, a cab driver walked up to the bar and interrupted them.

“Is Rowdy Yates here?  I’m Raoul.”

Rowdy greeted Raoul with a firm handshake. “Hey, Raoul!  Yes, I’m Rowdy,” he replied.  “It's nice to meet you.  Hey, here’s a fifty-dollar bill,” he said, placing the money in the man’s hand and pointing to the opposite end of the bar.  “Make sure those ladies down there make it to their homes safely tonight, okay?”

As the man looked at the trio, Rowdy’s empathy suddenly kicked in, and he registered the man’s inner feelings of lust and desire.

“No funny stuff either,” Rowdy added, giving Raoul a stern, all-knowing look.

Raoul knew Rowdy was being serious and nodded.

After the three ladies had been escorted out, Rowdy served Shayera her beer.  “So what’s your story, beautiful?  Looking for a one-night stand?  Lover dumped you?  Unwed and knocked up?”

With a boyish grin, he shrugged off the personal questions and tried to read what was on Shayera’s mind to give him some point of reference, but he got nothing.

“Don’t worry,” he assured her.  “You don’t have to talk to me.  Hell, you don’t even have to tell me your name if you don’t want to, no matter how badly I might want to know it right now.  I’m just here, if you want somebody to listen,” he offered.  “And anything you share with me is in the strictest of confidence.  I’ve been in this business for a long time now, and I think it’s safe to say that nothing would shock me.  I’ve heard it all.”

After an awkward few seconds, Rowdy grabbed a towel from under the bar and began wiping it down.  “We’ll be closing in about ten minutes, beautiful,” he informed Shayera.  “Oh, and by the way, I love the wings.”

[Deleted]

Right now, it hardly matters to Shayera whether or not the bartender is charming. It's the furthest thing on her mind, actually. She hardly even looks at him, apparently too absorbed in her thoughts to pay much attention to anything beyond what is necessary for her to obtain a drink.

Then again, just because she's not watching her surroundings much doesn't mean that she's not aware of them - her hearing is quite acute, after all. The exchange with the cab driver is hardly missed, though she doesn't react at all to it on the surface. Even internally, she only pays enough attention to note that nothing is happening that she'd have a problem with. She may be technically off-duty, but that means that she wouldn't step in if something bad was happening. Instead it seems that Rowdy has the situation well in hand, so she simply waits for her drink.

And when it's finally brought to her, she immediately gulps down about a third of it in a rather unladylike fashion. But human rules of etiquette are silly anyway - she'd only pay heed to them if she wanted to impress someone. And nobody whose opinion she'd really care about is present, so she'll drink how she pleases. When she's done she looks at the mostly full glass with a frown - hmm, she's had better. She'll have to go shopping around for a beer that she likes more at a later time, though - her choices are limited at this hour.

Setting her glass down, her attention shifts to the bartender. Her green eyes focus upon him with an eagle-eyed stare that seems to simultaneously look at him, into him, through him, and past him all at once. He may be attractive to human eyes, but these belong to a Thanagarian. Which... well, they do still see that he's attractive, but she's had more than enough time to learn just how little a person's appearance matters. No, the only thing that matters is the inside, and his has yet to impress her.

In fact, the very first thing that she does is inform him that, "You're way too young for me." What is he, thirty or thereabouts? Practically a little boy then. Oh, humans may grow up quickly, but only physically. Mentally is a different story - it takes experience to truly understand things, and that simply takes time. It can't be rushed. Sadly, theirs is a species that only achieves true wisdom after their body is already starting to fall apart because of old age. The one in front of her is practically a child by comparison.

"My problems would take too long to explain. And there's no point to explaining them anyway - it's action, not words, that will solve them," she adds more quietly, her eyes turning back to her glass. Sadly, it would take far more alcohol than this to make her forget her problems. This isn't even enough to give her a real buzz. Perhaps it will take the edge off of her unpleasant thoughts though - maybe even enough to help her sleep when she heads home.

[Deleted]

As Shayera enjoyed her drink, Rowdy noticed how deep in thought she was.  By the way she seemed disinterested in everything and everyone around her - - including him! - - it was obvious that she was lost in whatever was troubling her.  He had watched her guzzle down a third of the beer, a feat that was pretty impressive, to say the least, and totally unexpected.  If he had to take a wild guess, he would’ve assumed she was a cop, but he hadn’t seen a badge anywhere on her person. (Yes, he had checked her out.  Everywhere.)

The frown on Shayera’s face caught Rowdy’s attention, along with the rest of her.  There was something familiar about that stern look and the wings.  Hadn’t she been in the Justice League a while back?  What was her name?  Birdwoman?  Ladyhawk?  Hawkette?  He focused, trying to remember the news articles and other media about her that he had seen.

“Not enjoying the beverage?” he finally asked her, breaking the silence while he polished a clean, empty beer mug.  “Too bad.  Any port in a storm, especially at this late hour, right?”

When she told him he was way too young for her, Rowdy literally laughed out loud.  “I have a lot of experience,” he told her with a wink of his eye.  “Besides, I like women anyway, no matter the age.  Not girls.”

When she told him her problems would take too long to explain, Rowdy dismissed the comment with a grimace.  “That’s all I’ve got is time, beautiful,” he informed her.  Then he looked at his watch and excused himself. 

Walking back to the cash register, he spoke into the microphone attached to it.   “The bar is now officially closed, folks!” he announced over the nightclub’s PA system.  “Enjoy yourselves.  There’s no need to rush, but I’ll be locking the doors in about twenty minutes.”

As he made his way back to Shayera, Rowdy tried reading her mind, but he got nothing.  When he got to her, he stood there and looked into her eyes, making sure she was looking back into his.

“You seem awfully bummed out, beautiful.  Normally, I’m a pretty good mind reader, but for some reason it’s not working on you.  Penny for your thoughts?  And I’m not taking no for an answer.”

[Deleted]

When he asks about the drink, Shayera snorts a little and comments, "Hmm, a good beer is one that bites back. This one doesn't even try." By which she could mean a lot of things, but then again she means that it pretty much all those ways: in her opinion a good beer is has a very strong, bitter flavor and a high amount of alcohol - a robust ale, for example. If it doesn't do a number to your taste buds and your liver, she's not going to be very impressed with it. She's always been one for a good fight, even if it's with her drink - this one goes down much too easily.

And though he may attempt to laugh off her comment about the age difference, she's completely serious as she states, "And I like men, not little boys." And the way she says that indicates quite clearly that she believes him to be the latter. Which is a really, really big turn off for her, actually. If he wants her to give him the slightest bit of a chance, he's going to have to convince her that he's really mature for his age. Well, either that or that his brand of youth is somehow sexy - but so far it isn't at all.

She doesn't comment immediately when he says he has time - she's not especially interested in opening up to him. And she's silent as he disproves his own words by stepping away to announce the bar's closure. No doubt he'll want to leave in twenty minutes, and that really isn't enough time. Frowning to herself about that, she downs another third of her drink. It may not be quite to her taste - far too sweet - but any drink is better than no drink right now.

When he comes back she's already gone into a brooding silence, staring at nothing, but it only takes her a moment to notice him looking at her and for her to meet his gaze. What he says now causes her eyebrows to raise slightly. And it's all too easy to avoid his question by changing the subject. "So you're the one who's been poking my mind?" she asks perceptively. She may not be a mind-reader, but her own powers of perception are quite strong even if they're of the more mundane variety. And she can tell when someone's trying to read her mind but not who or where it's coming from - for all she knew it could have been anyone in the bar or even someone elsewhere. But it's not something that she normally remarks about, as there are more people with that ability than people even realize - most people with it keep it hidden.

"I'd be careful if I were you - Thanagarian minds naturally defend themselves," she warns, easily remembering what happened to J'onn not that long ago. He's the most powerful mind reader she knows, but he's never read hers - he said that even brushing against it gave him the impression of a vast flock of alien, winged things eager to attack from a vast darkness. That's not really a part of her mind so much as a shield around it - if penetrated her thoughts would be laid as bare as any others. Of course, when J'onn ended up needing to do so to another Thanagarian, it had hurt both of them - for J'onn it had been physical, in the form of deep wounds on his arms as if he'd been scratched by strong talons, while the Thanagarian soldier had been driven insane. So it's not for nothing that she warns him - a weaker mind-reader than J'onn might easily get themselves killed if they ignore the danger.

[Deleted]

Rowdy tried not to react when Shayera told him she liked men, not boys.  He could tell by the tone of her voice what category she had him in.  When she changed the subject from her to him and accused him of being a mind-reader, he laughed off her warning awkwardly and shrugged his shoulders.  He wouldn’t admit to her that he had mental powers, but he wouldn’t deny it either.

“Okay, I can take a hint,” he confessed, his lips disappearing as she got serious for a moment.  “You don’t want me hitting on you?  Fine.  Pardon me for wasting my time and giving a damn.”

With that, Rowdy turned his back, walked away, and finished cleaning the bar.  He had done all he could do for her.  If she wanted to keep brooding, that was her choice.  As far as he was concerned, she was the one with the problem, not him.

About ten minutes later, Rowdy escorted the other customers to the door and said good-night.  He made sure to shake their hands cordially while extending an invitation to return for another visit in the near future.

Walking toward the swinging doors to the kitchen, he called to Shayera as he passed.  “Take your time.   I’m going to check on the kitchen staff.  Let me know when you want to go, and I’ll let you out.”

[Deleted]

If he had eyes in the back of his head, Rowdy might have seen the slightly raised eyebrow pointed in his direction as he heads over to finish cleaning up the bar area. But she's soon back to brooding over the rest of her beer, seeming to prefer to nurse the last bit of it rather than gulping it down like she did the rest. Though she does notice that as he starts to gather the lingering customers and leading them out the door that she's excluded. Not in a hurry to head home, she doesn't volunteer - perhaps he's simply saving her for last?

Instead it seems that he's giving her permission to linger. She immediately responds to that by waving him over. It's probably a combination of the hint of alcohol in her system - though it would take way more than she's had before she could be accused of being drunk - and the insomnia caused sleep deprivation, but she has something to say.

"I come in here, probably looking like hell, and you tell me that I'm beautiful. Now maybe I can pull off the 'hell look' and you were being sincere - I don't know - but when a woman isn't trying at all to look pretty, she doesn't want to be told that she's pretty. Then, even though I don't know you, you act like you expect me to just open up to you just because other people have. So I let you know I'm not in the mood for romance, but you lay it on thicker and demand that I open up when I don't. So I have to repeat myself and then you finally get it. And suddenly it's my fault that this conversation isn't working out, and you give up like a scared puppy," she says, giving a disappointed shake of her head, "This is what makes you a little boy."

But she's not satisfied to simply recount what just happened from her perspective - no, she'd better tell him how to do it right as well. "A man sees a person first, and a pretty face second because he thinks with his head and not with his pants. And he doesn't try to force his way into someone's life - he knows that everyone is different and everyone takes to people at their own pace. He knows how to handle it when that pace is not 'instantly'. He also takes 'no' for an answer. But he also knows that there's a difference between 'no' and 'not if you're going to do it that way'. And he has the humility to assume that he might be part of the problem - I admit that myself, I could have been friendlier - but he also never, ever gives up just because it got hard because he has a backbone," she states very bluntly.

Because that's perhaps the most fundamental part of her personality: she doesn't beat around the bush, pussyfoot around people's feelings, or do any of that touchy-feely stuff. Which may make her come across as kind of a jerk, but it's truer to say that she's simply very hard and passionate - few beings on this planet are mentally tougher or feel things as deeply. Now, that may mean that she's already destroyed any potential friendship with a guy who was probably actually trying to be nice, but if he can't handle what she just said then he can't handle her, so she's just doing them both a favor. So if he retreats to the kitchen, tells her to leave, or does anything else that only proves that he's the scared puppy she accused him of being then she's simply saved a lot of time. On the other hand, if he takes what she said - though it's quite the bitter pill to swallow - or even if he doesn't but laughs it off, defends himself in some way, or otherwise shows that he does have a backbone then he now has the opportunity to earn some of her respect.

[Deleted]

Rowdy was surprised when Shayera called him over to her.  He really thought their conversation had ended for the evening.  The fact that she wanted to talk to him peaked his curiosity, and he wanted to hear what she had to say.

It took all of Rowdy’s self-control not to use his telekinesis on Shayera as she lectured him.  Standing there, he took her comments like the man he was, not the little boy she presumed him to be.  Waiting patiently, he listened to every word until she finished.  When he assumed it was his turn to respond, he knitted his brow, taking a sharp breath and choosing his words carefully.

“A player?  Is that what you think I am?  Really?!?  Seriously?!?” he asked defensively.  “That couldn’t be farther from the truth!  Look, I don’t know if it’s the booze talking or your need for sleep, but I don’t appreciate you jumping to conclusions about me.  I’m not some - -”

Suddenly, one of the staff came out of the kitchen and interrupted them.  “Mr. Yates, we need help with the inventory,” he said.  “A food order is being placed first thing in the morning, and we need to know what you want to have stocked in the freezers.”

Rowdy squinched, smiling with his eyes as he looked at Shayera.  “Excuse me,” he apologized before walking away with his employee.  “Duty calls.  I’ll be right back.  Don’t go anywhere.  I’m not finished.  You had your say.  I want mine.”

With that, Rowdy retired to the kitchen for about seven minutes.  When he reappeared, he had a smile on his face and looked less stressed.  During his time in the kitchen, he had taken the opportunity to cool down and get his emotions in check.  Returning to his position at the bar, he grabbed a cold bottle of beer and a wooden stool and sat down directly across from Shayera.

“I’m sorry that you got the wrong impression of me tonight,” he started.  “I’m sorry that you don’t feel beautiful, even though you look beautiful right now.  I’ve never seen you before, so I don’t know what you normally look like, but you look pretty damn good to me.  I’m sorry that you’re offended that I noticed. “

He stopped and reflected on everything he’d just said.

“That’s a lot of apologizing, isn’t it?  I’m sorry.”

He laughed.

“I just did it again, didn’t I?  Sor - -“

He stopped himself short and smirked at his faux pas.

“Look, just because I did notice you doesn’t mean I was hitting on you.  I had an opportunity for romance with those drunk women earlier.  If I was looking for a one-night stand, I wouldn’t have let all three of them slip right through my fingers.”

He stopped, trying to figure out where he was going with this.

”I guess what I’m trying to say is it’s a shame that our conversation wasn’t working out.  I thought you might’ve wanted to talk . . . vent . . . I don’t know.  I just wanted to help you be less troubled, y’know?  But you’re right.  People don’t open up to total strangers.  I apologize for expecting that from you.”

He took a long draw of his beer.

“Please don’t mistake my silence for weakness.  I’m not a scared puppy.  I’m trying to be a gentleman.  There’s a difference.  And I agree with you - - you could be a whole lot friendlier.”

He shrugged and smiled, trying to gauge her reaction to that last part, not knowing if what he was saying was helping or hurting.  He hoped she didn’t suspect he was hitting on her again.

[Deleted]

Shayera can't say that she's overly impressed by his first, knee-jerk reaction. Maybe she did jump to a few conclusions, but he seems to be making the same mistake. Nevertheless, the interruption from the kitchen proves to be good timing, cutting him off before he gets too carried away. And though she might have just left then, but his demand to have his own say keeps her in her seat - it's only fair, after all and she's a huge fan of fairness. And nobody will ever say that Shayera can't take the same thing she dishes out.

While she's waiting she finishes her beer, but she doesn't mind that so much. It's not like her problems will be solved by more alcohol. And she doesn't want to drink enough to forget them - she would very much regret that in the morning. When he returns she's just sitting there, waiting patiently and casting him an expectant look when he reappears.

Fortunately, it seems that the break has put his thoughts in a better place, and she listens carefully to his words. They don't seem to have too strong of an impact, but then again it takes a lot to do that for her and that doesn't mean that she dislikes what she's hearing at all. At least things seem to be getting on a better foot now. And a hint of amusement crosses her face when he nearly apologizes for apologizing for apologizing. And it comes again when he agrees that she could be friendlier - yes, she'll admit to that much.

"I know you weren't hitting on me," she says first, smiling slightly as she says, "You were flirting - there's a difference. When I said 'romance' I didn't mean sex - there's not much romance to be had in a one-night stand. So no, I don't think you're a player. You're just someone with bad timing who has no idea what he's getting himself into with me." She pauses for a moment, trying to find the right words to articulate what she's trying to say. "See, your real problem here is that you're talking to a Thanagarian, not a human. One who has had over five years to learn and get used to the huge cultural differences, but five years isn't enough to turn a Thanagarian mind into a human mind. So you don't know anything about the whole context that I live in, and that puts you at a huge disadvantage," she explains, "And that's even besides my mood at the moment."

She can't help but sigh, having reminded herself of her current... 'life difficulties'. "This isn't just the booze talking - if you want the booze to talk, you'll need to give me five or six more of these," she says, poking at her empty beer glass, "Could be the sleep though - I haven't had a decent night of it for half a year." Frowning to herself, she pauses before she adds, "I don't know if it's that I don't want to talk, or don't think that it would help, or that I wouldn't know where to begin. But to summarize, I somehow managed to hurt everyone I even remotely care about within the course of a few days. And when I say 'hurt' I mean... deeply."

Frowning and shaking her head, she comments, "I'm afraid that I'm not very good at 'friendly' right now. There's not much room for it between the remorse and guilt." Still, she thinks that she's managing to be friendly enough at the moment

[Deleted]

When Shayera poked at her empty beer glass, Rowdy jumped to his feet almost immediately to fix her another one.  Although he couldn’t sell any more alcohol to customers, he could give it away for free.  After all, it was his bar.  “Here you go,” he told her, placing a chilled mug of cold brew in front of her.  “It’s on the house.  I hate drinking alone.”

As Shayera spoke, Rowdy hung on every word and listened.  REALLY listened.  Being an empath, it amazed him that he was so into feeling and showing emotions and Shayera seemed to be avoiding it at all cost.  They say opposites attract, and it was definitely true in this case.  The winged wonder wasn’t saying too much, but what she did reveal to Rowdy sure kept his attention.

Rowdy was relieved that Shayera didn’t consider him a player.  He was guilty as charged for flirting with her, but he had only taken that route to get her to warm up to him.  Usually, quite easily, he could tear down the walls people built up on the inside to protect their heart and shield their vulnerability, but just as Shayera was telling him, he wasn’t dealing with an average person.  She was a Thanagarian, not human.

“You’re Thanagarian and not human?” he mused, folding his arms and tapping his chin with his right index finger while pondering her statement.  “Hmmm.  You could’ve fooled me.  I mean, you seem pretty human to me right now.”

He surmised that she had difficulty opening up - - not just to him, but to anyone, in general.  Considering her statement about hurting others, her handicap didn’t surprise him at all.  Soon he found himself wondering about the number of transgressions she had incurred, over the span of five years on Earth, and to what degree the severity of the consequences had been.

“I guess I am at a disadvantage,” Rowdy agreed, smiling with his eyes again.  “It’s true; I may not know anything about your race or culture, but that doesn’t mean I’m not interested in learning more about them.  You come across as disengaged, distant, emotionally unavailable.  Is that the way it is for all Thanagarians?  Hmmm.  Anyone who hurts others as deeply as you say you do must be capable of loving deeply as well,” he conjectured.  “I’m encouraged that you feel some remorse and guilt for your actions.  If you didn’t, that would be a major matter of concern.  For me, anyway.”

It bothered him that she hadn’t gotten a decent night’s rest in six months.  At that moment, he was very tempted to crawl inside her head with his telepathy and find out for himself what was actually going on with her, but he decided to heed her earlier warning.  The last thing he wanted was to commit mental suicide.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk right now - - for whatever reason,” he told her.  Reaching into his shirt pocket, he retrieved a business card and handed it to her.  “Here you go.  When you figure out where to begin, give me a call.  I’d love to hear the story.”

After a moment of silence, he smiled at her.

“By the way, are you ever going to tell me your name?”

[Deleted]

Though she hadn't intended to get another drink out of him, Shayera smirks when he brings her another, accepting the drink and jokingly asking, "So you want the alcohol to talk?" But she hadn't been lying when she'd said how many drinks it would take - if she wanted to actually get drunk she would have ordered something much stronger than a beer. Yet, even though it's weak and still a disappointment in the flavor department, she'll take a free beer.

The more that Rowdy gets to know Shayera, the more he'll find that the walls around her thoughts and emotions are so high and thick as to be nearly impenetrable. But there are a few openings in that wall - sometimes she lets things out or invites someone in to see a part of it, but it's all very controlled and deliberate. Therefore, the only way to get to know her is one pieces at a time, as she chooses to share it - there are no shortcuts. Some of that is simply because she's Thanagarian, but some of it is also because she's Shayera - she's a private person from a hard and uncompromising species.

When he says that she seems human, she remarks, "I suggest looking behind me, then." Her wings are, after all, rather obvious. Still, she's aware that she appears to literally be a human with wings on the surface, though the truth is that she's at least that different from them mentally, emotionally, and in all other ways as well. There's definitely similarity, much common ground, and yet the differences are still too big to ignore.

She drinks a few swallows of her beer as he expresses his interest in learning more about her and summarizes his observations of her mannerisms. She can't say that it's all very flattering, but then again she's not one to get all upset over something as trivial as what someone she just met thinks of her. "Hmm, for a Thanagarian, nothing is more important than being tough - in all ways: physically, mentally, emotionally. Second is intelligence. Being attractive is third, and actually being nice is even further down the list. For humans, being attractive is first," she states, quick to raise a finger to interrupt any objections that he may have to that last part, "Yes, I know, that's shallow, not everyone thinks that way, and your society is shifting to see intelligence as more important, but the majority of you just aren't there yet. Every species has some growing to do. But back to my point - Thanagarians are supposed to be tough, so we hide our weakness. We don't trust strangers, and we're cautious about making friends. But we're also a very passionate people: we either really love something or we really hate it, but we're rarely in between. Those who are truly tough don't shy away from their feelings, but they do control very carefully how they act upon them. So in this case, I'm very unhappy with myself, but that doesn't mean that I'm going to fall apart into an emotional wreck just because I'm tired and have had a couple of drinks. Does that help you understand?"

Because the truth of the matter is that Shayera really is that tough. The same passion that fuels her deep loyalty to her friends, her fearlessness in a fight, and the other powerful feelings within her also fuels the very strong sense of self-reproach at all the things that she did. It's not at all that she hates herself for it, but she does have to ask herself what kind of person she is to have done all those things and whether or not she can be okay with being that person. So for her to be here looking depressed but relatively okay even as all of that's going on in her head is a sign of her emotional toughness - even as she doubts herself she still finds the strength to forge ahead.

When he hands her his card, she glances at it, but says nothing. She still doesn't know that she'll ever reach a point of wanting to tell him what happened, but maybe. She does find it really hard to find herself so far separated from the people who were, until recently, most of her friends on this planet. But she can't even begin to contemplate the idea of seeing if the Justice League would allow her to return - she's not even sure if she wants to be there. It's the people there that she misses, and it's hard to find opportunities to see them when you're not a part of the club. Perhaps she should take a day off and track down Wally - he's one that she's sure doesn't bear too much of a grudge and he always did manage to cheer her up, even if it's mostly by accident.

Her thoughts are interrupted when the man asks about her name, and she smiles a little as she answers, "Well, I'm 'Hawkgirl' in the papers. But I'm Shayera - Shayera Hol." She doesn't usually give her name to civilians. But, then again, she doesn't often talk to them very much.

[Deleted]

When Shayera brought attention to her wings, Rowdy simply smiled.  What he was learning about her was that although she looked human, that was all she had in common with Earthlings.  Thanagarians were a stronger and more durable species.  From the sound of it, that was true for their hearts, as well.

“I dunno.  I think your wings look kinda tough,” he commented, swigging his beer.  “Just like the rest of you.  If that’s the impression you’re going for, it’s definitely working for you.”

As she continued speaking, Rowdy began to realize that they didn’t have much in common at all.  Her assessment of humans being inferior really turned him off.  Maybe primitive was a better word.  Okay, so maybe Earth was a young planet and wasn’t as advanced as other worlds, but it was still home for them both.  Yes, for her right now, too.  But she didn’t sound too thrilled to be living here.

He understood that she was weary and tired, and he’d never expected for her depression to cause her to fall apart or have an emotional breakdown right there in front of him.  When she asked him if her comments gave him more insight about her, he nodded.  She wasn’t a quitter, but going the extra mile all the time had to take its toll on a person eventually.  Even a Thanagarian.

His eyebrows rose when she took his business card and remained silent.  That was the biggest cue for him to shut up.  He was surprised when she gave him a hint of a smile and told him her name.  He was expecting something more alien sounding.

Yawning, Rowdy covered his mouth with his fist.  “Sorry, but I’m tired,” he apologized.  “It’s been a long day, and I have an early shift in the morning.  I’ve really enjoyed this chat, Shayera Hol.”  He smiled when he said her name.  “Meeting you was totally unexpected and a nice way to end the evening.  If I don’t see or hear from you again, I hope things get better for you in the near future.  Remember, when you feel like you’re at rock-bottom, the only way to go is up.”

Standing, he grabbed his empty beer bottle and threw it in the trash receptacle underneath the bar.

“Let me know when you want to leave,” he added, walking away.  “I’ll get one of my employees to show you out.”

[Deleted]

When he takes what she said and immediately calls her tough, Shayera can't help but smirk even if at the same time she suspects that he said that just because he figured out that it was a better compliment to her than calling her 'beautiful'. Trouble is, that's right, and now he's using that information against her? Oh well...

If she knew how he was taking her words about the people of this planet, she'd have quickly corrected him. Her feelings about humans are actually quite the varied tapestry - no one admittedly generalized statement about them such as the solitary observation she just made could even begin to scratch the surface. She's been on the planet for over five years, after all, and her experiences during those years has been... different. She knows far more about certain very extraordinary humans than she does about so-called 'normal' ones, but she's familiar with just how varied they are.

But she isn't a mind-reader. In fact if anything, she's more the opposite of that than an ordinary human - too often she assumes that if someone is feeling something that she should know about, they'll speak up and tell her about it. Because how else is she supposed to know? Oh, well, body language maybe, but so many of the subtleties of that easily elude her - Thanagarians also normally wear a mask most of the time, so she's not fully used to being able to see it on someone's face all the time. She may have been on Earth for years, but those years are still such a small portion of her life.

Therefore, what Rowdy says now catches her somewhat off guard. Oh at first it seems natural - it is late, after all. Oh, and if he has to be up early, by all means... She nods when he says he enjoyed the chat. Okay, she gets the picture - he needs to go... And now he's just laying it on thick... Any hint of a smile leaves her face as she stares at him with lowered eyes, as if to ask if he's done yet.

Though it's his last words that really rub her the wrong way. "Running away again, pup?" she asks, her voice more than a little mocking, because why else would he give such an elaborate series of goodbyes? She quickly throws back the rest of her beer as she stands and then adds, "If my alienness upsets you so much, I can show myself out." Because it seems, and quite abruptly too, that he's in a hurry to see the last of her. And the only thing that she can think of that's changed is that she's given him a better understanding of how she is. If that's enough to so completely change his view of her, then she's not especially interested in seeing him again either.

In fact she's so irritated that, just as she's turning to leave, she accidentally uses too much force when she puts the empty beer bottle on the counter and it shatters. She cringes and sighs quietly at the accident - she tries really hard not to do things like that! But bottle makers just don't design them with a Thanagarian's strength in mind. Or their temper, for that matter. But she drops the pieces on the counter and then brushes any lingering bits off of her hand with the other one. The glass is sharp enough to cut her, but not any deeper than a light scratch so there's no real harm done. "Sorry," she mutters, recognizing that she's given him another mess to clean up.

[Deleted]

"Running away again, pup?"

Those four words cut Rowdy Yates to the quick like a steel blade.

"What did you call me?!!?" he asked, stopping dead in his tracks and spinning on his heels to confront the Winged Wonder.  He didn't think he deserved that goad from her.  He had tried to be nice to her - - again - - and it didn't work.  Every time, things got worse.

Even though they had just met, it seemed that Miss Shayera Hol had already figured out what to say - - and how to say it - - to push Rowdy's buttons and jerk his chain.  All he was trying to do was put some space between them to keep the peace.  Was that so wrong?  What she said next frosted and infuriated him simultaneously - - not only her words, but her mocking tone, as well.  Red light flashed in Rowdy's eyes as his emotions escalated and started getting the best of him.  He was losing control more and more by the second.  Shayera was driving him nuts, and her chiding was making the situation extremely dangerous.  For her.  In that moment,  Rowdy, aware of what he was capable of, felt like ripping her tongue out with his telekinesis!

"It's not your alien status that's upsetting me!" he fumed.  "It's that damn mouth of yours!  What are you trying to do, bludgeon me to death with your words?  I swear to God, I think your tongue is sharper than the spikes of your mace!  Careful, lady!  Consider yourself warned!"

By this time, Rowdy couldn't tell if Shayera could see the crimson fire crackling in his eyes or not, and, to be frankly honest, he really didn't care anymore.  He was caught up in the moment.  All he wanted to do was enter her mind and hurt her, like she was hurting him.  Earlier, he had provided her with a platform to vent a little bit.  His intentions had been genuine and harmless, but now he was the one getting hurt here, and he was on the defensive big-time.

Actually seeing the irritation on the Thanagarian's face was retribution for Rowdy.  At least it made him aware that this "ice queen" was feeling something.  They were definitely polar opposites.  Rowdy was all raw emotion, while Shayera was the frickin' Rock of Gibraltar.  Cold bitch.

When the beer bottle shattered, it was an unexpected distraction that worked in Shayera's favor.  Intentional or not, it helped Rowdy refocus and calm down.  As he rushed to Shayera's aid, he was no longer concerned and preoccupied with his own feelings.  Had he been doing that - - feeding off his own emotions?  It made perfect sense . . . and scared him.

The Fates were being so cruel.  The farther he tried to distance himself physically from this woman, the closer he was drawn back to her.  He didn't allow her to pull away as he grabbed her hands and inspected them for any serious bleeding.  He was truly amazed that she had been only slightly scratched by the shards of broken glass.

He took her apology as a truce.  "I thought I was the apology expert?" he quipped with a smirk.  "Don't you start.  I already called dibs."

[Deleted]

At this point, Shayera doesn't really care that what she said made him so angry. She only half listens to his fuming, thinking to herself that she shouldn't have to goad him like that to get him to speak his mind. How are you even supposed to know where you stand with someone if they'd rather bottle it up and walk away?

In fact she's so uncaring at this point that while the does notice the change in his eyes, that doesn't stop her from wanting to just leave. What bothers her more is the hint of a threat in his last words - that sort of thing always makes her want to stick around just to prove that she can handle whatever it is they think that they've got - but she can easily let that go. Even if he is some kind of a metahuman, she doesn't find that very intimidating. Partly because she just isn't easily intimidated in any case, partly because the list of metahumans she's met is extraordinarily long, and partly because she knows that he'd have to be pretty damn powerful at whatever he does to cause her much trouble. And if he is, like she's already guessed, a mind-reader then it doesn't really matter how powerful he is.

In any event, she would have just ignored it all and left if it weren't for the shattered bottle. That is enough to break her stride. Partly because it simply wounds her pride - she's been on this planet for long enough to be used to how fragile everything is, or at least she thinks that she does, but every time she's sure that she's got that problem solved once and for all she holds something too tightly or someone cringes when she shakes their hand a little too firmly or she accidentally pulls on a 'push' door (which never ends well). Usually it's only when she's angry anymore, but even so - she doesn't like it when it happens.

And while she's feeling ashamed of herself the man rushes over to make sure she's okay. "It's fine," she insists, though she lets him examine her hands anyway - this sort of thing has happened before, and nobody who isn't used to just how durable she is ever believes it until they actually see it for themselves so it's a lot less trouble if she simply lets them look. But though glass as many unique properties and one of them is the fact that it's physically impossible for anything to be much sharper, it would take quite a bit of force to cut her very deeply with it. The difference between her skin and a human's skin is something like the difference between kevlar and similarly thick but more ordinary fabric - so similar and yet so fundamentally different. The worst cuts are just deep enough for blood to reach, but are still so thin that even a bandaid would probably be overkill - such tiny amounts clot almost immediately when exposed to air. If she were human she'd probably have needed stitches, she'd been griping the bottle so hard.

When he lets her have her hands back, she's much calmer. Sighing softly, she very patiently says, "Look, if I said something that upset you, just tell me. Don't give me any of that passive-aggressive crap you were trying to pull. How am I supposed to do anything about a problem I don't even know about? Especially just walking off - I doubt I've done anything to deserve that. So dramatic..." She doesn't sound angry anymore, just tired and frustrated - she's not having a good night, in so many ways. "So what did I do?" she asks, because no she has no idea what he got so upset about in the first place.