Not Your Typical Greek Diner


nike_icon.jpg dee_icon.jpg

Scene Title Not Your Typical Greek Diner
Synopsis Nike goes to Katz's for a bit of peace and good food. Looks like Dee had the same idea.

Katz's Deli

//This is the original deli. Established since the earliest days of the Eastern European immigrants in the Lower East Side, Katz's has been serving one pound corn beef and pastrami sandwiches. The lines are always packed, and it's always full of people. These are the sandwiches that your mouth has to wrestle with. It's Katz's!

It's a traditional style diner that can seat about sixty people. There's small tables next to each other that are lined nup that can seat usually two people in the area. The owners are always offering a friendly smile and well, what else can you say. It's Katz's!//

Dee is… making an effort to not be recognized these days. She does need to go out sometimes though, like for food, on top of that she really isn't good at 'stay still' and 'stay hidden'. She's just not. She is, however, being loathe to take off her cycle helmet much. She might flip open the faceplate, but that still doesn't show her really well. Especially with the sunglasses she's wearing. Sheheads into the deli, needing to pick up some things and not willing to sacrifice quality for convenience."

University doesn't really allow a lot of time to relax, especially towards the end of your second year. With finals looming over her head, Nike finally decided she needed to take an hour or two today for herself. Sitting at a corner table with a half-eaten sandwich and a soda on her table, a leather jacket slung over the back of her chair and an almost obnoxiously large shoulder-bag on the chair opposite, the casually-dressed young woman has a cell-phone to her ear. She's smiling and laughing, talking animatedly in a stream of fluid Greek to whoever's on the other line. She notices Dee's entrance, but it's only a momentary flick of her eyes; nothing more.

A nice thing about all the changes that came with the change from New York to New Atlantis is the extreme upgrade in technology. While motorcycle helmets with bluetooth are certainly available normally, she could now pick up a really, really good one. She's chatting a little to herself, but she's not the only one around that does that. Mostly, it's assumed to be a phone call. It ends when she gets on line to order. She does look around her carefully, her faceplate up now so she can see better and her heightened senses picking out a great deal. She does idly listen to the conversation in Greek.

The conversation carries on a few moments more, but eventually - as all things must - it comes to an end. As the phone clicks shut, Nike sighs, her shoulders slumping. Such calls are a refreshing tie to… well, to /normalcy/. Especially since the entire city seems to have gone collectively insane. Looking forlornly towards her bag, she gives in to the inevitable and pulls out her organic chemistry textbook and a thick notebook. It's then she realizes that her drink is empty. Can't study that way! Grabbing it in one hand, she hops up from her seat and - with one last quelling look at the bag, of all things - strides up to stand in line behind the woman in biking gear.

Dee crosses her arms as she waits, the woman who's ordering is taking her sweet time, asking too many questions about every little thing, and generally pissing everyone off. It happens. She glances towards the woman who is coming to the line, and tenses just a bit at having someone right behind her. Especially a 'someone'. She says, conversationally, in Greek, "Nice day we're having."

Anyone who lives in New York - or New Atlantis, as it has been re-termed - long enough learns to accept most kinds of people; at least in the periphery. The Greek, however… That's a bit of a shock. "I'm glad it's getting warmer," she replies in kind before realizing what just happened. Shaking her head, she smiles a bit sheepishly. Conversations with her family always throw her back for a little bit. "What brings you to this side of town?" Most of the Greeks she'd met in this city kept very much to themselves and their tight communities.

Very little in New Yo- this town really surprises Dee anymore. She's lived here much of her life, after all. She stares at the woman at the front of the line, thinking over all the things she could to to get rid of the woman holding up the line, and replies "It's a good deli, and I had the time. NYU?" she asks the younger woman.

"Columbia, actually." Nike's answer is as casual as the question, but - and maybe it's the fact that she still hasn't removed her helmet - something about this woman makes her just a little uneasy. Thinking perhaps that the conversation has finally reached the bounds of 'small talk' common amongst New - oh what the hell, she can still call them New Yorkers in her head - New Yorkers, Nike falls silent, rolling back on her heels to wait for her turn.

Dee ohhhs quietly. "You're a little out of your way then, too." she says observes. There's silence, and finally they can move a little forward. There's still a wait, though. Then, Dee comments, just as casually, "Liking the change to the city?" She might mean something other than the obvious, right? On the other hand, she might mean exactly that.

"Finals are coming." Nike shrugs. "I needed a break." Now is the conversation done? Maybe? Maaaaybe? They're moving, they're moving… Nope. Not finished yet. And the continuation is a bit surprising. Someone else noticed the changes? Maybe she's not the only sane one left. "What, you mean like the broker I ran into on the train this morning? Told me to go suck on Amnis' tit." Rolling her eyes and raising her brows, she blows out a sharp breath of air. "Never quite thought I'd be insulted quite that way." That way, if this motorcycle woman - for Nike is beginning to think that helmet is permanently attached - is as crazy as the rest of them, she's still got a bit of a safety net.
Dee mmms. "Amnis' tit. That's a good one, yeah." she replies. "I've heard a lot of very imaginative curses these last few weeks. Kind of missing the 'good old days', though. Has your curriculum changed much? I'll bet social studies texts have." Her tone stays completely conversational. Also seems like they're the only Greek speakers in earshot at the moment.

Sighing heavily, Nike nods. "I'm glad I took my sosh classes last year. Doing them this semester would have been a nightmare." Running a hand through her hair, she turns to look out the window, though her gaze is much further away. "So much has changed…"

"It has." Dee replies, looking around them. "I guess we'll see how long it lasts. Who knows how to fix it. So, for now we're Atlantis instead of York." She doesn't sound happy about it. She turns to better watch Nike for her reactions.

Turning sharply to look at the strange, Greek-speaking woman, Nike's eyes narrow - just a little. "I suppose it's good to know I'm not the only sane one left in the city, but you're the first I've met who even remembers New York ever existed at all." She doesn't mention her family. They stay safest if they stay unknown. She keeps her silence a moment, long enough to study the woman opposite her. Arms fold over her chest and she takes a slightly more defensive stance before speaking again. "Why?"

Dee mmms. "You're not nearly the only one." she replies. "Our blood protected us. I guess you haven't run into any of your other 'cousins' in the city yet?" she asks.

So unused to thinking about herself in any way beyond her humanity, Nike shakes her head. "I haven't got any cousins in this city." And really, with how few secrets can be kept in a Greek family, she'd know. Then something gives her pause. "Blood? Is it a disease, then?"

Dee eyes Nike for a moment. Then, she says quietly "I'm not talking about your mortal family." she finally says, then steps again towards the head of the line. There's still one more ahead of her. She's not as actively bored waiting, though.

"My m-" Nike's eyes widen almost comically as she realizes just what the woman said. "Oh dear…" Her face goes a bit pale and she takes a steadier stance, swallowing once before setting her jaw and meeting the other woman's gaze straight on. Very formally - and using the more structured Formal Greek - she speaks. "I was not aware of other Children, but that was an unforgiveable error on my part. My name is Nike Diakos, daughter of Hades."

Dee chuckles quietly, continuing to watch Nike. "Dee Floros, daughter of Hermes. Nice to meet you. Unforgiveable? That seems a little dramatic. It's not like there's laws about it." she replies. It's her turn to order then, and it's a decent sized one. Several large sandiwches, along with various sides.

"Aren't there?" This seems to surprise Nike, but then again. "Then I apologize. I…really don't know anything beyond what my father told me." Which is to say, not much. She falls silent, watching Dee order with increasing incredulity. "Eating for five?" She can't help herself, really.

Dee hms. She pays, and steps to the side to let Nike order and to wait for hers to be done. "Nah. Just ordering for three." she replies. "But it doesn't hurt to have leftovers." She nods towards Nike's table. "I'll join you over there?"

She has to concede that point. Being a college student, Nike is a great friend to leftovers. Glancing back at her bag, she orders her refill and nods. "Yeah, just let me grab the bag." Taking her refilled drink then, she strides a bit bow-leggedly - though with a surprising grace for her height - back to her table and sets the large bag on the floor at the foot of her chair. For a moment, it looks like something inside it moves, but it's just a flash and then all is still again. "Planning on meeting friends here, then?"

Dee takes a seat. "Me? Nah. I'm getting it to go. We're a little busy the last couple days. Figured we could chat more while I wait. Unless you need to study?" she nods towards the bag.

With a soft snort, Nike closes her chemistry book on the notebook and slips them both back into the bag. "Believe me, you definitely trump organic chemistry today." She takes a sip of her soda and leans forward against the table's edge. "What d'you know about this religious Atlantean shift everyone's gone to. I don't recognize any of these gods they worship now." Wrinkling her nose in thought, she continues. "Come to think of it, wasn't Atlantis one of Poseidon's cities?"

There's a grin from Dee as Nike puts her school things away. She continues to speak Greek, and her sharp eyes often scan the room for anyone who seems to understand them. "It has its own pantheon, actually. It's complicated. Really complicated." She asks then "Have you been involved much, in fighting the Titanspawn? Or are you kind of new to it?"

"Titanspawn?" Nike seems to consider this a moment. "I'm going to go out on a limb here and assume they're the Titans' version of us?" She takes another sip of her drink and shrugs. "And no, I've not fought. Why do we fight them?"

Dee stares at Nike for a long moment. "Wow." she finally says. "Your father really told you nothing about what's going on." She frowns, thinking that over. She still hasn't taken off her helmet.

"He said I'd become a fighter, and not by choice." Nike shrugs again, cynical non-surprise plain in her face. "Suppose that's what he meant, then." Looking around them, she purposefully leans back into a relaxed pose, though her voice gets quieter. "Is there someplace more…private we could discuss this?" She takes another long sip of her drink. "If you speak Greek, chances are someone else does, too."

There's a slight shake of her head. "Wow. That was it, huh?" She nods slowly, then says "Well, we can't go back to my place at the moment. But I'm sure there's somewhere better than this." The last is added with a chuckle. "How about your place, once my order's done?"

Nike seems to consider this for a moment before shrugging. "Can't. Dorm." She stands from her chair and clears her place into the garbage. "I've got somewhere we can go, though." Her jacket is pulled from her chair and shrugged on; zipped up before she grabs her huge bag. "Ready when you are."

Dee nods, and as though it's the hand of Fate, her order happens to be done right then. Her number is called, and she smiles and goes to fetch her food. Bags in hand, she returns and leads out. She asks "Any objection to taking my ride?" Her ride seems to be a really sweet motorcycle.

"Not a one." Gesturing for Dee to take the lead, Nike follows her from the deli.

Dee packs the food away in her truck, and gives Nike the helmet it replaces there. "Onward, then. I don't suppose you can fly?" she asks then. She seems very casual about it all, though there's also a tension to her.

Taking the helmet, Nike fastens it, pulls something large and black from the bag and settles it in with the food before Dee closes the lid. "Nope, no flying. Good with directions, though." That being said, she gives Dee a set of clear-cut directions and an address. It's an address Dee may recognize as the Julliard School. The black thing - it looks a bit like a very large cat in the evening light - curls up inside her jacket where it's warm.

Dee smiles to that. "Me, too. Anyway, if we want to be something up and out of the way, I can do that. It is really cold, though." She glances towards the cat, and chuckles, then sets off towards the school. There isn't much chance to talk until they arrive, and Dee pulls her cycle out of easy view to park it.

When they land, Nike dismounts rather like one would see a horseman do. Handing the helmet back to Dee, she shakes out her mane of hair and jogs up the steps to one of the side buildings. A set of keys is pulled from her pocket; she sifts through them a moment before pulling out the right one and unlocking the door. She holds the door open until Dee can get her stuff set and then leads the way inside.

Dee secures the second helmet, then follows. She is very, very aware of what's around her, though. One might think she was expecting trouble.

Two hallways and a flight of stairs down, Nike unlocks a door with faded orange paint and steps into a pitch black room, seating herself on the floor in the corner and divesting herself of her passenger. "Christ, Mavros! Think you could have kicked me a little harder?" There's a snort that sounds remarkably equine and a stomp. "I have food for you, you ungrateful little cretin!" A small squeal, now. By the way, there are objects in the room. Hard to tell what they are in the dark, but they're there. "I couldn't very well take you out around all those people now, could I? With all this nonsense going on, who knows if the cat thing would have worked?"

Dee is quiet as she follows, and she doesn't look delighted by the dark room. She goes, though. "Where are we?" she asks, though her sharp senses tell her a few things. About the room and about the 'little cretin'.

"Oh." Nike blushes pink, though it's mercifully hidden in the dark. "I forgot." Standing, she walks over to one of the walls and flips a light switch. The room is small, but not miniscule in size. The centerpiece is an old, black grand piano with a blanket thrown over the top to keep the dust out. In the corner Nike had retreated to, a black colt the size of a small dog stands, eyeing Dee with a bit of his own apprehension. "It's an old practice room. No one uses these anymore and all the rooms are soundproof."

Looking around the room, Dee nods to Nike. She studies Mavros as she says "The Titans broke free of where they were imprisoned. There is a war on, between them and the gods. We're all here to fight the part of that war that is too minor for the gods to deal with themselves. At least, that's the ideal case. The monsters that attack the people, and that sort of things. Those monsters are the Titanspawn."

Lights on, Nike returns to her corner, pulling a bag from within her bag. "Seems fair enough. So the Titanspawn, they're not people like us?" From the bag, she pulls two one-pound containers of ground beef, tears open the clear plastic and then pulls out a green bowl. The meat goes into the bowl and Mavros - with a small squeal of delight - sets about devouring the whole thing like he hasn't eaten in days. "So one of the Titanspawn did this to the city?"

"Not so far." Dee replies. "Well. Technically we're all Titanspawn. They're our grandparents, for the most part. Most of the things we have to fight don't look human, though." She shakes her head to the question, then says "It was a Titan, I think. Or a god. Called Puros. We don't know a lot, though. I need to research whatever's out there on him."

Nike nods, taking a moment to process this information. "And we fight because…?" She shrugs, wrapping the trays in the clear plastic and putting them back in the bag. "I mean, if we're all essentially Titanspawn, why kill each other?" Mavros finally finishes, belches and promptly sprawls out in Nike's lap - fast asleep. "Seems a bit wrong, killing family."

Dee replies "We fight because we're heroes. We're here to protect the Earth and its people, while the gods fight the titans. The titans don't want to live and let live. They'll destroy everything, if they can. Don't really think of them as family. It's not that simple."

"I'm alright with protecting people, but you make it sound like we're supposed to go out and pick fights with these things…" One hand begins to idly stroke Mavros' fur - more habit than anything, but there's real affection there. "How many of us are there, then? Five? Ten?

"Oh, we don't have to do that." Dee replies. "We just deal with them when they attack. That's often enough. I'm not sure how it's been since the change to New Atlantis, though. I've been more focused on dealing with the Atlanteans. The bad guys are the ones playing royalty. They were doing experiments on some Scions they captured. It was pretty icky." To the question, she says "There are a fair number of us around. If you start reacting to the attacks and such, you'll get to know them pretty quickly."

A slight color tints Nike's cheeks and she lowers her gaze. "Honestly, up until now I didn't know there really was anything attacking anyone aside from the usual NYC stuff." It's a fairly shameful thing to miss, all things considered. "I guess the media's really good at cover jobs and so far nothing's happened that I've witnessed." She scritches Mavros behind the ears and there's a sleepy sort of whicker in response. "I mean, it's not like I've been ignoring them or anything."

Dee watches Nike again, then nods. "Well, it's not like anyone's forcing you to get involved. If you do though, just keep an ear open a little more. I mean, there was a Tyranasaurus Rex not all that long ago, right in Harlem. There was that giant serpant attack recently. Granted, they were dealt with more or less quickly. But you'll start getting a better idea of what's going on."

Eyes that were wide at the mention of the T-Rex nearly pop out at the mention of the giant snake. Glad that she's still looking down, Nike takes a moment to regain her cool and nods slowly. "I'm not… I'm not really sure what use I would be. The most combative thing I can do is put a dying thing out of its misery." She leans back against the wall and stares at the ceiling. "Not much good when the thing's still kickin'."

Dee says "I'm not much of a fighter, either. Not the direct sort of fighting, anyway. It just means I have to be imaginative about it. Sometimes I just try to keep them swinging at me, because I'm hard to hit. That way others have a chance to take their shots."

"I suppose so…" Nike sighs and rubs a hand over her face, looking ever so much more exhausted than she did earlier this evening. "It's a lot to take in." Stating the obvious, there. "But it's nice to know I'm not crazy at least." A bit of wry humor. At least she hasn't had a breakdown or anything.

There's a chuckle. Dee says "You're not crazy. Not in the traditional sense, anyway." she adds with a wink. "Anyway, I have to book. I have a ton to do." She takes a business card from her satchel. "If you need a hand with something, or just to talk. I'll also see about introducing some others to you."

When the business card is offered, Nike merely nods towards the piano in a 'leave it' sort of gesture. Her whole body seems sort of slumped and there's a melancholy air of thoughtfulness and dread around her that if one wasn't right there would be comical. Her father's side comes out strongest in times of stress, it would seem.

Dee sets down the card. "Give a call sometime. I might not be able to answer right away. I've kind of pissed off the current royalty. But I'll at least call you back." She smiles, then says "It was nice to meet you."

There's a noncomittal mutter that sounds vaguely like a 'thank you', but Nike is well and truly lost in her thoughts, now. Those who know her best have learned that it's best to let her work through whatever's being tossed around in her brain this time. It's something Dee may learn about her, eventually. But for now, perhaps the lack of answer will be enough of a hint. Nike certainly doesn't have the presence of mind to do more than that at the moment.

Dee watches her, then with a faint smirk turns to let herself out. Then, it's back up to Harlem, to go catch up her Bandmates on some things.

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