"No. Some jackasses feel like jumping me, they get to convulse on the ground and scream for a while, then die. I can draw it out however long I feel like. They wanna shoot me, fine. I can't feel pain. And that's assuming they catch me when I'm not wearing my armor. That shit could shrug off a hundred-plus BMGs at once. If you think my electrokinesis is my only gift..." [b]She makes a motion to move- as if she's about to get up- then disappears entirely, and reappears behind him A split-second later. The delay, while small, was noticeable, and it most likely ruled out teleportation, as the former is instantaneous usually.[/b] "...you're wrong." [b]The moment she finished her sentence, she appeared in front of him.[/b] "So wrong." [b]Next thing he knew, she was back on her barstool.[/b] "If someone wants to shoot me, I better not hear it coming, else I won't be therre by the time the shot lands. And if I see them, I could easily turn it back on them. So, to put it simply, no. I don't fear walking into the night and never returning. It's a possibility, but nothing I can't handle. Honestly, it's more of a game than anything. I've been on the run from pretty much everything resembling law enforcement for the past two decades. Haven't been caught once. Half the criminal underworld wants to 'usurp my throne' or some shit. They've all failed. I fear very few things, and none of them have to do with what others might do to me. Physical torture relies on your subject feeling pain, something I cannot do. Mental torture relies upon breaking the subject's psyche. Mine is so broken it's not even funny. I suppose they could do some endless solitary confinement shit. But I would probably be more trouble than I was worth. I can fry any electronics, which means their shit would have to be mechanical or very well protected. So, assuming it's inescapable, I might persist in spite of them, or, if I wish it to end, simply electrocute the moron who decides to bring me my food every day. Honestly, all they could do is kill me. And, while I don't welcome death, I don't fear it. It comes eventually for almost everyone."

"For someone who's half drunk, you talk surprisingly clear, lady. Name's Dale, by the way. Strongest man on earth." He seemed to be surprised that the lady would not only show- but explain some of her abilities and past to a str agree that hasn't even gotten her name, so he decided to make the push himself. He stuck out his massive hand with a smile. "Nice to meet you, miss."

[b]She shook his hand.[/b] "Lyra... And the thing about me speaking well... I drink too much. Way too much. Probably a chronic alcoholic at this point. Don't give a shit. Shit starts getting crazy when I'm actually drunk. When I get completely shitfaced, I'm either tryna steal someone's girl, or incite a damn riot or some other violent shit. Or I'm just passed out on the floor."

"Sounds like you need some help with your violent tendencies." When Lyra took the hand, there was obvious power behind it, as if it was coursing through his very veins. Releasing her hand, Dale returned to his nachos and spoke again to the woman. "Then again, I'd think you don't care, Considering what you've told me."

"'Help' is one of the last things I want. It's pretty fun most of the time. I don't think I have any room to talk about 'fun' with my mental state."

"No, fun is objective. I know psychopaths who think cutting off people's faces is fun. And you- a murderer are entitled to your opinion. That said, you're not the type of person I'd want as a friend, or enemy." He had finished his plate of nachos by now, electing to crumpling up the paper and throwing it in the bin rather than move from his seat. There was about half a glass left of milk on the counter. "Mostly because you kill people."

"I get that a lot."

"And you should. You run from your crimes, don't you? Probably why you're holed up here."

"I'm holed up here because I want a damn drink... Or twenty. I don't fućking know. I have much better places to be otherwise."

"Then go to those places, unless they involve torture or murder, as they be better for you. First step towards a more peaceful life."

"I incite rebellion just for the hell of it. I've incited large scale ones just to see workds crumble. Peace is not something I ever wish to achieve besides with a few people."

"Yeah- I suppose the evil guys in the movies don't always turn to a good life. Just thought it might work with you." Dale got up, chugging down the last of his glass and placing a few bills on the counter. "But only you yourself can decide that- I sure won't."

"Many have tried; all have failed. I'd either have to be permanently stoned out of my mind or have that shit coming from the love of my life. Probably both, to be honest."

"Eh- your choice." And with that, the large man left the bar, eager to get away from a lunatic with little self control. [spoiler]End? [/spoiler]