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Saint Patrick’s day. March 17th. A day for drinking, parties, and the color green. Dessie knew that those particular descriptions of the holiday were not completely accurate. She was more than aware of the history of the holiday, at leasts what they were taught in school, and that it wasn’t all about getting drunk in public and making a complete a** of yourself but as far as the blonde was concerned that was exactly what the holiday ment. The only good thing about the green abomination that was St. Patty’s day was oddly enough all the parties. Busking on this particular day meant she really made some money, not that she needed it anymore but it was the principal of the thing, so that was what she was currently doing.

She had found a spot in a small park, more like a footpath, surrounded by businesses and more than a few ‘pubs’. The whole location was more of a up and coming spot which is why Dessie picked it, more likely to make some money and less likely to have to deal with belligerent drunks. So with her case out and a sign stating that the donations would be going to charity, she didn’t need the money but there were more than enough people in this city who did, the young blonde started to play. The acoustic guitar’s rather unique sounds echoed around the small space, bouncing off the two dormant trees before rapidly dying in a battle with the sounds from the stores. Her fingers started off slow, the songs sticking to more bluegrass, but as she warmed up both literally and figuratively Dessie started to drift into more modern songs. Songs she wasn’t as familiar with. Songs like George Michael’s Careless Whispers or the Pirates of the Caribbean Theme song or Michael Jackson’s Billie Jean. That one was not easy to pull off. Dessie was just glad that there were so many people out on the web who have been able to pull off the songs that she could use them as examples. Not that she was even in the same league as them, not yet at least or even ever as far as she was concerned.

Dessie had bounced through modern stuff, oldies, and bluegrass mostly ignoring the ever changing crowd around her. The only time she actively interacted with her audience was when someone asked for a song or tipped something more than just pocket change, the former got a cold look and a completely unrelated song while the later got a nod and even a half smile. She also tended to stick to the same genre for a song or two on the higher tips because she figured that the tipper liked the first song, never hurt to stick to the same genre and possibly snag a few more bucks.

She had just finished up Stevie Wonder’s Superstition when she saw a young woman slip a fiver in her case and join the ever roving crowd. It wasn’t the biggest tip but it wasn’t ‘stuff that jingled’ so Dessie stuck with the classics, AC/DC’s Highway to Hell… ironically one of the songs that had been requested a little while back. A quick glance revealed others nodding along to the old hit, some even mouthing along with the ‘chorus’, but the girl who dropped the money was really starting to move. Dessie wasn’t the best at reading people, unless it came to fights, but it seemed like the girl wanted to dance and while Highway was a damn good song it wasn’t really danceable, not on an acoustic guitar.

Hummmm, a challenge. What song would get the girl to dance?

Not really sure she started to play some of the more rock and roll songs that she knew, none of them her best, but they were servisable. Another AC/DC song, Back in Black, followed by Rock and Roll by Led Zeppelin before culminating in her personal favorite of the genre, Johnny Be Goode by Chuck Berry. Hell by the end Dessie herself was basically rocking out as she tried to do the songs justice on her well used guitar. She had to take a brief moment after Johnny to shake out her fingers, nodding her thanks to the donations and clapping she got, before picking back up her guitar. What to play now?

She was in the grove now, kind of wanted to stick with the faster stuff. It didn’t hurt that she seemed to get more money for the faster songs. With that in mind she started to play Guitar Boogie by Arthur Smith but before she could do more than a few bars a group of males loudly crashed her crowd. They jeered and catcalled, scaring away a few people but mostly just being assholes and prompting her to switch songs to Hit the Road Jack by Ray Charles. Maybe they would take the hint, one could only hope.

Dessie kept a close eye on the trio that was rapidly dispersing her crowd, icy blue eyes narrowing on the insults but she kept cool until the girl who had been enjoying her music had enough. It would have been amusing watching a young woman standing up to a bunch of muscle heads like a chihuahua barking at some dobermans but if the dobermans weren’t willing to put up with the chihuahua’s then things could get ugly real fast. So with practiced ease Dessie quickly packed up her guitar and the donations she got before climbing to her feet. By this point the ******** had grabbed the dancing girl’s hair and yanked on it, a BIG no no in Dessie’s book. Long hair was one of the reasons she had chopped her hair off so short when she had first ran away, it was harder for others to get a good grip on it.

With a rather grim smile the blonde walked up to the trio of drunks and gave them one warning, “Leave. Now.” When they just gaped at her, the leader not letting up on his grip on the other girl’s hair Dessie did what she wanted to do when the muscle heads first showed up, she drove the neck of the hard shell of the guitar case into the leader’s crotch… hard. As the leader bent over holding his family jewels, letting go of the girl in the process, Dessie ducked the sloppy punch thrown by one of the minions and socked him in the jaw with a right hook. The third apparently wasn’t as drunk as the other two because he was able to get his arm around Dessie’s neck in a holding position. His grip didn’t last long though not when she smashed the back of her head into his nose, drove her elbow into his gut, smashed her fist into his nuts, and slammed the heel of her shoe on his foot. It was a combination of moves that left him on the ground holding his bloody nose and his crotch at the same time.

The other two drunks were fuming at this point. “Tisk, tisk. Didn’t your moma’s ever teach you guys any manners?” She mocked them, waiting to see what they would do. Fighting further was always fun but she wasn’t a bully, she wouldn’t continue if they wanted to run away with their tails between their legs. Blue eyes quickly located the other girl, a nod towards the streets was her nonverbal way of telling the dancing girl to get going. She got this. Xander wasn’t going to be happy hearing she got in a fight but there was no way she wouldn’t have stepped in when they started to mess with someone let alone a younger female.

Dessie spared the girl a look when she declared that she knew how to fight. It was entirely possible she did, after all what self respecting female in a city didn’t know how to throw a punch or two, but against three large drunk males? That was a whole different kettle of fish and now that the moment of surprise had been used even Dessie was mentally leary on continuing the fight, physically she didn’t do anything more then stare down the leader who was gathering up his tattered pride. One drunk was still crying over his injures, the second apparently realized that the fight wouldn’t go their way, it was the leader who didn’t want to leave it at a simple scuffle. He seemed determined to continue even if it meant his a** got kicked.

The cold look on her face shifted to one of derision and disgust when the a*****e stuck his face in her’s and proclaimed that he wasn’t ‘scared of no girl’. “Two words. Tick. Tack.” She sneered at the fellow, well aware that he was about to punch her and had planned to dodge it before kneeing the guy in the gut but the girl’s shouted warning threw Dessie off just a bit. Rather then missing the punch the thin blonde took it squarely. It knocked her back several steps and drew a grimice to her face but it didn’t knock her on her a** like the guy had expected. She knew how to fight, had likely been fighting longer then this drunk had been, and had been at least somewhat prepared for a counter attack. It also didn’t help that she was a senshi who had been training for far deadlier fights for the last four years, give or take. “Never pick a fight if you can’t win,” Dessie said as she straightened and smiled coldly at the drunk before starting towards him. She was planning on laying him out, maybe teach him a lesson or two about messing with people who look weaker than him.

She was brought up short though when the distant wailing of a siren penetrated the canned music and hubbub of the distant bars. “s**t,” Dessie didn’t want to deal with cops. Cops ment questions which meant her guardian would have to be called, besides she was 18 now… a call to Xander might be the least of her worries. With this in mind the confident blonde musician abruptly turned on her heel, grabbed her guitar case, and turned to the girl. “We’ve got to go,” her comment was accompanied by a shooing motion, trying to shepherd the dancer away from the drunks and the rapidly approaching cops.

Dessie followed behind the girl, her battered sneakers stomping through trash and who knew what else as they ran through a few alleyways and a few intersections until they finally came to a stop several blocks away on a quiet little street. She was only a little winded from the flight, mostly from the fight though, and a bit bruised where her guitar case rapped against her side as they ran. She wasn’t in the habit of racing like the dogs of hell were after them while carrying her case, it slung over her back sure but not while it was in her hand.

Pale blue eyes surveyed their surroundings, mentally giving up the space for any further busking since what stores there were weren’t exactly flooded with people. Oh well, it wasn’t like she was living on the money she made. She really was going to be giving it to a local charity, maybe even pad the donations a bit since she had to end her day so early. Easy come, easy go. “Done it before, will do it again. No biggie.” The blonde casually dismissed the gratitude of the redhead… auburn really. It wasn’t like she was going to let those drunks get away with messing with someone while she was around. She couldn’t stand bullies, it didn’t matter if they were drunk or sober, male or female, powered or not. A bully was a bully and Dessie didn’t put up with them. Turning to face the girl Dessie asked, “you ok?” Beyond the hair pull she hadn’t seen the dancer get hurt but that didn’t mean that it didn’t happen.

Dessie caught the wince and head massage out of the corner of her eye, she had turned away slightly to check behind them on the exceedingly unlikely scenario that they were followed, and wondered if the dancer had known how to prevent her hair being yanked out if Dessie hadn’t stepped in. Anyone, male or female, ran the risk of their head being controlled by an attacker if they got a fist into their locks but it was surprisingly easy to get someone to let you go once you were in a hold like that. It was one of many techniques for self defence. Of course the blonde had learned a lot of that type of fighting when she had run away, very little had she picked up from her brawling instructor… his style was more on taking down the opponent as fast as possible.

A pale brow rose in surprise at the dancer’s offer for first aid, a slight smile tugged at the edges of her mouth at the amusement of it all. “No. I’m fine,” She dismissed the offer for several reasons. Primarily was the lack of need. Yeah her stomach hurt from the punch and even her neck was a little sore from the headlock, but it wasn’t something she hadn’t experienced before. If she could walk away from a fight and wasn’t bleeding seriously or had broken something then it had been a good fight. Dessie also hated being touched. Loathed it. Even for first aid. There was no way in hell that she would allow a stranger to try to patch her up, she didn’t even like her adoptive father doing it.

None of that really mattered right then, or at all really. Her needing first aid was a non-issue, so her extreme dislike of it didn’t factor in at all. “The d**k didn’t even bruise a rib so I’m good.” Dessie waved off any lingering concern as she slung her case over her shoulder, settling the strap across her body before inquiring, “you do know the best way to get out of that hold right? I stepped in before it got very far but it’s always a good thing to know.” It sort of went against the personality she projected out into the world to check to see if this young woman knew how to defend herself but she didn’t want to just walk away without checking first. This auburn haired dancer had told those drunks off without a care to her own safety, it took serious balls to do that, but without the skills to back it up she was just courting a beating the next time she did it. That was something Dessie couldn’t just walk away from, not if a few moments of instruction could at least get the dancer out of a tight spot. Besides, girls had to stick together right? Not like the world gave a s**t about them so if a little knowledge helped then Dessie would bend her ‘don’t get attached’ rule some and share what she had learned. It wasn’t like she was asking the girl to be her ‘bestie’ or anything.

“Balls. Go for the balls,” Dessie half smiled as she shook her head. She really wasn’t surprised really, a bit disappointed, but not really surprised. Self defence was often overlooked by a majority of the population… they relied on the ‘goodness’ of the world. Dessie didn’t. “A shot to the nuts hurts more than a kick to the shins. You could also stomp on the instep of their foot, if your lucky you can break some of the bones there. That will get them to leave you alone hella quick.” Heels were perfect for that actually. They did maximum damage for such a small surface area. Physics, got to love it.

“Wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t going to show you. It’s pretty simple really,” Dessie shifted her guitar slightly and grabbed her own hair where the drunk had grabbed the dancer. “First thing you have to do when someone grabs your hair is to grab their hand,” she demonstrated with her free hand, pressing into her ‘hair hand’, “you need to press their hand into your head not hard enough to hurt but not light enough they can rip their hand free and take some of your hair with them. This helps prevent them from controlling your head. Control someone’s head and you have control over their body for the most part.” This was the most she had talked to anyone in a while. However her instructions were clear and calm. She tried to explain the reasoning behind the steps as well because if you didn’t understand why it would be harder to get how especially if a real attack differs from what was taught. Learning the logic behind the moves would help the dancer tweak them if ever there was a need.

Once she was sure the other girl understood this first step Dessie let her arms fall only to push up the sleeves of her jacket. “Roughly three fingers up from the crease of your elbow is a sensitive spot,” like before she showed what she was talking about. Her bare, trimmed nails first lightly tapped the spot before digging into the muscle of her own arm and drawing a slight wince from herself. “Its surprisingly painful and most people will let go when its hit so when someone grabs your hair, you hold their hand then punch right here.” Again she tapped the spot, with a knuckle this time, miming a punch to her arm. “Granted no one will normally just let you punch them so at the same time you go for the punch you will want to knee them. Preferably in the nuts but the thigh muscle works too if its all you can reach. You will be stepping in closer to them so you have to be fast but it should get them to let you go.” There were many other things the dancer could then do but this was the simplest one Dessie knew. “Make sense?”

Dessie couldn’t help it, she had to stifle a laugh. The sight of the other girl acting out every action she had just explained at once was comical. Especially since she looked like some demented bird with her one leg still up. She might have kept the giggle that was fighting to burst out but she couldn’t keep the grin off oher face or the laughter from her voice as she gave the dancer chick an affirmative. “Right. It might take some practice to get it down and I would suggest finding a willing partner to work with you on it.” As she continued to talk she lost the urge to laugh but the smile still teased the edges of her lips. “Pretty sure this move as well as quite a few others are on Youtube if you need a refresher or a visual.” Dessie had seen a few of them herself but she tended to go for a more hands on approach by training with her family… god that still felt strange even just thinking it. There was of course the fights after hours as well, the ones done in the shadows of the city for the very soul of the people that lived in its tainted borders.

Apparently the dancer, Lovina, was of the same mind when it came to training. “Sorry I don’t teach and don’t really know of a local place but pretty sure you could always Google it. If that doesn’t turn up anything go for your local Karate place, you know the ones that teach little kids?” The blonde musician shook her head at the very idea of teaching a self defence class. It was pretty laughable. Teaching someone one move didn’t make her an expert and it seemed like Lovi was going to need a real teacher, especially if she was always this bubbly. “The Karate teacher might not be able to teach you anything but they might have a good idea for a place you can go to. I can’t really argue about how dangerous this city can be, those drunks back there were nothing compared to what can really happen.” She wasn’t even really talking about the negaverse that lurked in the darkness but the normal evil that was humanity. Someone like Lovi probably wouldn’t survive a week living on the streets, which was a damn shame.

“Dessie.” Unlike Lovi’s introduction her own was short and a bit brusk. No one could ever really say she was all that polite. She had actually said more to this auburn haired dancer then she had to anyone besides outside of the Jacobs and even that had taken months. Strange… very, very strange.