Mar 25 14:57:35 108 PA - Ranking People Over Caffeine

From Chronicles

Mar 25 14:57:35 108 PA.

TRADEWINDS COFFEE SHOP

Late night again, the kind that Sage would hate, but Gabriel doesn't seem to mind. He's in his warm weather gear, which appears to have been very recently cleaned, and cleaned very, very well. The weather outside truly is the beginning of Spring, no matter what the weather girl on Channel 5 with Bridge Beau has to say about it. Because of the hour, Tradewinds has muted their lighting somewhat so that its customers who have chosen to sit near the door can still see outside with decent nightvision - based on your average human scale. Gabriel is seated off to the side against such a window, and a small square table that shares an edge with the glass wall. Only two chairs, the independent kind that you can move around, are adjacent, and he's occupying one of them. On his table? Five mugs of some kind of beverage that can't be determined from a distance, and four pastries of some kind. He's holding a sixth mug in his hand, blowing gently across the top. At the counter, the four-armed, blue-skinned teenage girl is tidying up and wiping the counter.

Maybe it's the dimmer lights. Maybe it's the old guy in the window. Maybe she just likes coffee. Whyever it is she shuffles in, Bella does. She's even a little less coat compared to most times. Head and hands are showing. She's in and shuffling to the last movable seat at that table. Looks like Gabe's maybe higher than coffee. "Thirsty?" All those cups get eyed.

Gabriel chuckles. "No, not particularly, Miss Bella. Good to see you. I just thought I'd enjoy a taste of coffee before going home, but Theena over there -" he nods gently back toward the teenager behind the counter "- she's very sweet, but she's dumb as a post. Every time I come in, I ask, 'Black coffee, please.' You'd think that black coffee would be easy, right?" He shrugs, then waits only a few seconds, probably assuming that yes, it's easy enough to go without saying. "But, the little sweetheart never gets it right." He touches the other mugs. "Vanilla, mocha, caramel and cream, Irish coffee, and this one that she called 'pepper with six espresso shots.' I'll avoid that one. You're welcome to help yourself to anything." He blows across his coffee again, creating small ripples, before gesturing to what are now seen as various muffins and brownies. "She feels bad, so she gives it all to me for free. I give her a nice tip, because I doubt she'll ever get a better job. How are you tonight? Hungry?" Raised eyebrow.

"Nah. Not thirsty neither." Bella slides into a chair. A peek at the counter girl and a smirk. "Guess she's tryin. Ya ain' losin nothin really. I guess. Maybe ya find somethin else ya like. That she knows." She waves at all the cups but doesn't take one. He gets eyed a bit. Quiet. Then she wonders. "Ya gonna ask me 'bout bein' hungry every time I see ya?"

The older man shrugs and eyes the girl. "Have I asked more than this one time? I don't think so." Gabriel moves on. "Did anything happen at the Park the other day after I left? You know, idiot fucking moronic lunatics hurling rocks at people, crushing buildings, threatening people's lives because of simple and very legitimate questions and observations?" He smirks. "Any excitement like that?" He continues to blow across his coffee, unnecessarily clarifying, "Too hot."

Bella shrugs. "Don' think so. Was just askin." She moves right on, too. By shaking her head. "Nah. No more rocks. Now he's thinkin' the big crashed whatever it is oughtta get looked at. Inside. Ta strip it fer good stuff." Even more smirking. "Like nobody's ever thoughta that alla time it's been sittin."

Gabriel chuckles. "Yeah, good luck with stripping that. Don't think that the people who run the city would appreciate it. Probably all sorts of magical charms and doodads around it to keep you from doin' it, or at least to warn someone big and strong that an idiot is trying to do it." He sips at his mug, then goes back to blowing. "Still a little too hot." Then a single hand is released from the mug, and an index finger held in the air. "I get along pretty well with just about everyone in the city that I've met in any significant way. The others may not me good friends, but we get on. But that guy? If you had a scale of one to a hundred of how much I like people? He wins the spot at one, and everyone else, even the others I don't particularly spend time with, are all over fifty, minimum. There was one other guy, bastard who killed two of my friends, that would have taken that spot from him - but Ahriman had the good sense to leave the city. Don't know where he is, but he's gone, so Taz wins the spot." The older man's face is only slightly hard has he opines, "I certainly won't shed a tear if he shows up in the obituaries."

"Really?" Bella knew the old guy didn't like the big guy. But still pops up her brows. "Pissed ya off that much? Just cause he was tossin' rocks? Or somethin more? He's tryin ta get in good with me. Or somethin." All of that's good reason that she's curious.

The older man chuckles and shakes his head in mild disbelief. "You were there. Did you somehow miss Terrance exposing his guts? Taz hit an unarmed, unarmored man with a chain-sword. What was it that set him to do it?" Gabriel pauses, though obviously there can be no good answer other than, 'I don't know.' "To shorten his words, he told me that he was a real bad ass 'special operative.' Fine, I was talking with him and Terrance because I *needed* that kind of thing, and I'd *told* them that I needed it. So? Fair questions. You're a special operative. How long have you been a soldier, where were you trained, how much combat experience do you have, and where?" Gabriel nods his head. "Very fair questions, but it pissed him off. Whined like a little bitch about having had a tough time growing up in the 'Dregs. Well, we all have. I didn't say that, I just let it go, he had failed the personality test, he was out. Unfortunately, Terrance pointed out the hypocrisy between being a badass 'special operative' and a bad time growing up. That didn't go over well. Didn't help that Terrance was a *tiny* bit overestimating his own abilities." Gabriel narrows a thumb and index finger before his eyes. "But I think he learned his lesson. He's going to make a good solder after some training."

Bella listens. After that comes nods. "Yeah. He's twitchy bout some things. Got bigger but 'is skin didn' get thicker. Said th' other guy was talkin' shit 'bout 'im 'n the Dregs. Bet that's what set 'im off." She shrugs. "Lotsa ways ta learn shit. Livin' inna fight alla time's one of 'em. Don' have ta had some fancy teacher ta be good't somethin."

"I disagree. Living in a fight all the time where you have to fight to survive may make you a good scrapper, a good brawler, a good individual at staying alive." Gabriel shakes his head negatively. "But it doesn't make you a soldier. Definitely doesn't make you a special operative. Doesn't even make you better than someone who's just gone through his first week of Basic and is still learning how to piss right and put on his fatigues." Wow, he's being a little crude in his language tonight. "You do need teachers and instructors with everything, even things that come naturally, because you might be good, but you'll be rough. Never fight alongside someone who's rough, or you're likely to be hurt or die, and probably fail your mission, at the least."

"S'pose it's all 'bout what ya think is 'special.'" Bella thinks so anyways. "Yeah there's lotsa idiots't just wanna fight ta fight. Show their dick's bigger 'r whatever. Still way dif'rent gettin' told what ta do 'n havin' ta do it alla time. The soldiers 'n mercs 'n cops know that. S'why they stay outta the Dregs. Get their asses tore off."

Gabriel allows himself a small chuckles. "You take a real unit. The Raiders that I was with, or the Black Flag battalion that came with me, do your intelligence, spend time drawing up a plan appropriate to deal with the problem - and be smart about things - the 'Dregs could be cleared in a few weeks. Though 'cleared' is a rather subjective term. The cops are useless, and have been since the beginning of time. Most mercenary groups of basically a bunch of Taz type guys gathered together. Sometimes better equipped and led, but not much more." He nods definitively. "People trained at what they're doing, in whatever specific roll they have, and understanding mutual support, with a good plan developed from good intelligence? You might have to deal with guerrillas for a while, but depending on your level of... desire... they can be stomped out as well."

Bella shrugs again. But there's a nod in there too. "Smarter's better 'n stronger. Always been my thing." She points a finger at him. "So can't say yer wrong. Hard parts gettin'a a buncha smart soldiers like that. Always way more idiots with guns 'n shit. Ya can be better, but ya can still be tore up, too. Don' need lotsa smarts 'r plannin ta beat the shit outta ya."

"Exactly why Natasha and I put our candidates through the screening that we did," Gabriel says with a smile, gently moving his mug in Bella's direction. The mug of which he downs the remaining beverage in one long series of gulps. "Brains and strength together are best. But remember, sometimes sheer mass of numbers can win the day. How the Reds pushed the Nazis out of Russia." The man's wrist somehow catches his attention. "Oh, sorry Miss Bella. I need to be on my way. You say warm, okay? And you know... all the food and drink is yours. Maybe distribute it around if you don't want it yourself." Gabriel starts to rise, in a bit of a hurry.

"Gonna try not ta freeze ta death." Bella smirks at him. "Ain' worried none." She picks up a cup. Maybe just so she can wave it at him. "Don' trip."

Gabriel smiles and nods, flipping a sloppy, not-even-salute at Bella. "Goodnight, Miss Bella. Don't stay out too early." Wink. Then he's gone out the door.