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| Scene Title | Belated Birthday |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Daphne, Eileen and Huruma all stop by Old Lucy's to deliver belated birthday presents to the Man-Child (as Daphne calls him). Felix and Melissa show up later and Magnes takes a shot at marking his territory. |
| Date | February 9, 2010 |
Having nothing better to do early that evening, and wanting to know just how awkward the atmosphere will be after trying his hardest to drunkenly ask Brenda out the night before, Magnes walks into Old Lucy's looking fairly puffy-eyed. He didn't have the easiest night of sleep, but at least he looks pretty alert.
Taking a seat at the bar, he unbuttons his black denim jacket to reveal a brown shirt with a dark-red Weezer symbol. "Guinness, Brenda!" he calls out, barely having a memory of making a complete ass of himself.
[
"Brenda, Guiness" Brenda hollers back at magnes, school girl skirt that's indecently shorts, white tank top and a black leather short vest that just barely contains her chest. "You think that one night of fawning over me in a drunken stupor gives you the right to say Brenda! Guiness!" The redhead leans against her side of the bar, weight on her left side and blowing out a plume of smoke from her cigarette out the side of her mouth. "Hey Heather. Guiness, Brenda! he says" She grins, stabbing out the last bit of the butt and sauntering over. "You're so sweet Maytag" There's a soft pat to his cheek before the bartender gets just that. A Guiness.
The door opens and Daphne steps inside the bar; her cheeks are pink and hair ruffled from no doubt speeding through the city streets. Why walk when you can run? She's still dressed for warmth in a bright green peacoat atop jeans and her hot-pink snow boots. Tucked under her arm like a football is a soft package wrapped in Spiderman wrapping paper. She heads toward the bar, giving the bartenders a grin — she likes Brenda's sassy mouth. "Hey. Happy Birthday, kid," the speedster tells Magnes, dropping the present in front of him beside his Guinness. It's clear it's something soft and without a box to give it much shape. "Redbull and Blue Stoli if you have it, Red," Daphne asks Brenda.
Magnes' cheeks quickly flush, without even a drop of alcohol in him yet. He stares down at his Guinness, then looks up at her. "I thought I dreamed that. I mean, not that I dream about you or anything… 'cause I don't." He clears his throat, then looks over at the sudden gift, and up at Daphne. "Daphne! I didn't expect you to actually come. Thanks a lot." He reaches over for the package, squishing it a few times. "What's this…"
"Stoli and bull it is. Heather, you owe me ten bucks, I got him to blush already" There's another bet riding about who can get him to float again. The hiss of the red bull can opening is a welcome sound to be sure, followed by the vodka into a glass to dilute the pink liquid. It's garnished with the spear of a sherry and soon enough passed over to Daphne. "Boss Lady's upstairs, want me to call her down? She's loosing her head off on her studies" This is offered to Magnes.
"If I was just going to tell you what it was, then why would I wrap it, dope?" Daphne tosses back. "Open it." She picks up her drink, and then puts enough cash on the table to cover hers and Magnes' first round. "Thanks, Red," she tells the bartender, then turns to watch Magnes unwrap the present with some amusement. "I even paid for it. But I stole the wrapping paper, I admit," she adds under her breath.
"None o'you touch tha'long black box in th'back." Huruma, at the very least, offers this to the area behind the bar when she appears in the doorway that leads back into the building. The tall woman has her eyes trained down onto the flat screen of her phone. It's not common that she even has it out, much less uses it within sight of anyone. Not that she can't- just that eavesdroppers and wandering eyes are all too everyday for her taste. Whatever she was doing, she finishes, thumbing at the touchscreen and keeping it wrapped in her fingers. Huruma lifts her brows and takes a glance along the stools, then across the room in interest. Perhaps she expects a call? Who knows.
"Yeah, call Abby down, I can introduce her to Daphne. Daphne's a good person to know." Magnes gently nudges her, then starts unwrapping his gift and opens his eyes pretty wide. "It's a Snuggie… but Weezer. This is pretty awesome! And I'm proud of you for paying. Feels good to fight temptation, doesn't it?" Not that there isn't an assload of hypocracy laced all through those words. He rubs it against his face a bit, smiling. "It's soft."
"Sure thing Boy-o" Huruma's order gets a raise of brows and a shrug from Brenda who takes the time now that she's done smoking, to pop in a piece of gun and start chewing. Deliberately, towards Huruma of course. WHich leads Red over towards the phone and pressing a few buttons so that she can ring upstairs while masticating the ball of pink rubber in her mouth.
"Oh, don't get all pedantic and preachy at me, choir boy," Daphne says with a roll of her eyes. "I don't steal everything, and I can beat temptation any day of the week. I just didn't feel like standing in line in a grocery store for 30 minutes because their power went out and they had to do the purchases by hand, just to buy you Spidey gift wrap." She takes a big gulp of her blueberry vodka concoction. Her dark eyes go to Huruma as the woman tells people not to touch some box or another, and she raises a brow. Curiosity killed the cat — one could just read the question in her eyes, ala Brad Pitt in Se7en: What's in the box?
Huruma's eyes settle on Magnes and his gift opening process, and though she has the time to give him a rather judging squint, the *smack smack* of Brenda shoving a wad of chewing gum into her teeth is enough of a distraction that Huruma slowly swivels her gaze to look straight at the redhead. Daphne's curiosity glances off of her peripherals, thankfully.
"Must you, Brenda? Really?" The words are polite, but Huruma's tone is more like 'I'm going to smack you in the mouth'.
For someplace she was once gifted a key to, Eileen does not set foot in Old Lucy's very often, and although her actions might be misconstrued as insulting or aloof by some, the bar's proprietor probably knows by now that this is just the way the Briton operates. She enters using the side door rather than the front, all black and gray with a flash of carmine at her neck and feet in the form of a cashmere scarf wrapped around her throat and heels matched with whatever it is she's wearing under her coat. There's an Asiatic lily pinned to her lapel, too — a small personal purchase made earlier in the day during a brief stop at the Canal Street Market on her way to the Ichihara Bookstore on Roosevelt Island.
As usual, she does not insinuate herself into conversation right away. Instead, she takes a seat at the far end of the bar where Brenda can see her and removes her leather gloves, tucking them away into one of her coat pockets.
"It's alright, Daphne. If I had super speed, I don't think I could resist being able to steal a Marvel 1. I have a lot of money right now, but it's not Marvel 1 money." Magnes shakes his head and starts folding his Snuggie, placing it neatly back into the wrapper. "Thanks again. And hey, Huruma!" He waves a hand, right before Eileen's coming in. "And Eileen too!"
Brenda eyes Huruma with a really serious look, gum stuck in the side of her mouth when she talks, black phone turned away from her mouth. "I got a real bad oral fixation. Gotta have something in my mouth all the time or I'll just crazy and there ain't no fireman here so.." She fires off a wink before her attention is drawn down to whomever's on the other end. "Bosslady. Maytag is down here, wants to say hi. Says you missed his birthday party and he's got a friend he wants to introduce you toooo…" Eileen's entrance from the side is noted with curiosity. "And your british friend is here too"
Whatever Abigail says on the other end, Brenda hangs up with a thunk, and a pop of her gum. "Boss Lady's coming down from on high, to give us her blessing" Another pop of the pink gum as she saunters over to eileen and leans against the counter. "He ran into my knife" Pop. "He ran into my knife tennnnnnn times… hey there girlie, what can I getcha?"
"I'll keep that in mind for your next birthday," Daphne says with a shrug, picking up her drink to take another swallow. Her dark eyes flicker over to the petite brunette, as Magnes greets her. She gives a small nod, though she waits for Eileen to make her order and for Magnes to perhaps introduce them. "I probably can't stay long, Birthday Boy — I might have a gig tonight." She pulls a cell phone out of her own pocket to glance at the time, then shoves it back in. It's no touch-screen, just a cheap throw away phone that's not connected to a name or an address. "How old are you anyway? You card him, Red?" She's teasing, of course — she knows he's at least legal to drink.
As Eileen comes inside, Huruma can feel her as the tiny figure in the corner of her eye slinks past, taking a quiet spot at the far end of things. Her attention on Brenda, Huruma sneers slightly in response. "Oral fixation, hm? I'll break all of your teeth, then you will have somet'ing in your mouth…" This is murmured nearly under her breath- only the hapless fellow sitting nearby and possibly a second person will even catch it all. Otherwise, someone is bound to get snippets.
Now that her anger at gum smacking is left to simmer, Huruma is left to peer down the bar towards where Eileen has sat herself down.
There's something disconcerting about Brenda's use of the word girlie. It makes Eileen pause and sees apprehension beginning to creep into her eyes for the instant they make contact with the fiery redhead's — the sharp pop of her gum resonates like a gunshot in her ears at such close proximity, though she does not flinch. "Stoli Ohranj and soda," she says, attention inevitably drawn to the movement several seats down from her and the gesture Daphne makes with her head. The nod is returned, minus any implicit request for a formal introduction from Magnes. While Huruma has not gone unnoticed, she remains in Eileen's peripheral vision.
Which, given everything that happened while they were in Madagascar together, is probably right where she wants her. "I brought you something, too," she tells Magnes, reaching into her coat. "Had to forgo the wrapping paper."
"I, uh, I'm not a fireman exactly, but…" Magnes clears his throat, making a quick pass at Brenda before he even lifts his drink… which he quickly does a moment later. "I'm twenty-two, finally getting more into my adult years. "Oh, Eileen, this is Daphne, Daphne, Eileen. You two could probably benefit from knowing eachother, who knows. Daphne's my Catwoman, except she hasn't hit me yet." He quickly raises a finger as if to tell Daphne to 'hold it'. "And don't even think about it. I don't want Flash punches. So, Eileen, what'd you get me?" he asks, leaning in slightly with wide intrigued eyes.
Another stoli, but no red bull. She catches snippets of Huruma's comments and it's sheer glee in the womans emotions as she managed to get a rise of some sort from the tall black empath. "Stooooooli and soda" The skirt flips up just enough to afford a glimpse of cheek and she's busy filling Eileen's order. From the back room comes a thumping that indicates someone's coming down from upstairs.
Daphne gives Magnes a sharp look. Is he trying to hint to Eileen what she does for a living? "Hi, Eileen. As usual I have no idea what the heck he is talking about, but it's nice to meet you." She lifts her glass, and then takes another swallow, draining the rest of her glass. "Can I get another, Brenda? And another for Birthday Man-Child, too."
Or maybe she will just rip that little skirt off and shove it down Brenda's throat. Two problems fixed. Huruma listens to the noise of Abby going down the stairs, but her attention remains on the people seated, and sidling past the other girl behind the bar to drift towards the other end, phone still tucked into her palm.
Eileen's hand comes out of her coat's silk-lined interior with the spine of a book clasped between her fingers. "So it is said that if you know your enemies and know yourself, you can win a hundred battles without a single loss." She sets it down on the countertop, places her palm on the cover and slides it across to Magnes with her slim arm extended. ""If you know only yourself, but not your opponent you may win or you may lose — if you know neither yourself nor your enemy, you are a fool and will meet defeat in every battle."
It's the Art of War by Sun Tzu, a worn copy with dog-eared pages that have been turned many times over the years and have that musty library smell — stale coffee, mold, dust. Incidentally, it's what she's quoting too. Or was. "Hello, Daphne."
Magnes swallows at the thumping, suddenly remembering those tweets he made, and unwisely decided not to delete. It's kind of like that sign from Jurassic Park, and the T-Rex is coming to punch him in the face… except the T-Rex is hot and has boobs and a Southern accent.
A dismissive hand is waved at Daphne's sharp look, as if to say he is not doing anything stupid right now, and he raises a finger to mentally lift the rest of the Guinness from his glass. "Gravity shot!" is exclaimed, then he leans forward and chomps the sphere of alcohol.
When Eileen places the book on to the counter, he lifts it, staring at the book as she speaks. "Thanks, Eileen. Maybe this will be enlightening. And I can read it while I wear my Snuggie. You two are very coordinated. These are really thoughtful gifts, you guys are awesome." His smile is very content, in much better shape than when he wanted to, well, change the entire timeline of the world.
Maybe Abby didn't see the twits on the twitter. She's been busy what with impending, looming final exam and certification literally around the corner. So when she comes out from behind the bar in a chunky sweater, hair up, uggish boots on her feet and jeans, doesn't take her long to figure out where magnes is, or Eileen. Not does she hide the flare of recognition from her face that shows she might already know Daphne. "Hey Huruma" Affection for the tall black woman. "What's that black box back there? Eileen" A nod for the british woman. "Okay Magnes, what's the deal? I got studying to do, and if I fail, I'm gonna blame you"
It's good that Eileen is there, she can warn the woman about the russian thing. Nasty nasty russian thing.
As Abby makes it down the steps and into the bar, Daphne tilts her head and arches a brow. She smiles a bit wryly, then turns to look at Huruma, since she's all kittenish curiosity to know what the woman doesn't want people to mess with in the box. She lifts the new drink the bartender sets in front of her in a little toast to Abby, then takes a long drink. "I may need to get soon," she says again, pulling the phone out of her pocket to check the time once more. "That's a good book. You should read it, since you want to save the world and all," she adds, nodding toward Eileen's thoughtful gift.
Huruma seems like she is going to go nearer to the trio she has her eyes on, but she stops to regard Abby as the girl comes down, and after that has stopped to loom in various fields of vision instead. "The box is for Magnes. I don'want him opening it wit'all these people in th'bar." …A present! From Huruma! Uhoh. She finally resigns this fact with a small purse of her lips, shifting to stand there at the door to the back again, eyes going from the boy to Abby, then back to Eileen.
"Kazimir would have put it on your reading list," Eileen says in agreement with Daphne's assessment. The smile that she has to offer is wan and rueful. "That and Thus Spoke Zarathustra. Fyodor Dostoevsky's Notes from Underground." Any other titles she might have recommended in her dziadzio's stead, however, are interrupted by Abigail's arrival. She greets the other woman with her eyes rather than her mouth, and lapses back into silence while Brenda finishes filling her order and Huruma's gaze prickles the fine hairs on the back of her neck.
"Abby, Daphne, Daphne, Abby. Daphne's a good friend of mine. We're old work friends. And don't worry, Abby, I'm sure you can do it. Take it from a guy whose entire life was nothing but studying; you eventually hit a point where you've learned everything you can and just need to let it stew for an hour." Magnes looks up from the book and over to Huruma's box, eyes wide again. What could that be? "Is it a penguin?"
It's the mention of Kazimir that gets him to turn his attention back to Eileen, and he's suddenly giving the book a very serious stare. "If Kazimir would have wanted me to read it, then… I'll definitely do it."
Felix has arrived.
Cue the tumbleweed. Or the hawk's cry. Or something. Well, there are no batwing doors, nor does one Felix Ivanov pack a sixshooter. Far from it. Just his usual Walther, and that bitter, bitter attitude. Fel comes nosing in, almost tentatively, like there's been a regime change while they were all in Russia and Abby's given orders that he be bounced out on his ass if he shows up. He's still too thin, he's got that thousand yard stare, but all in all, he's better than the apparent walking corpse he was by the time they got to Antarctica.
The fuck, a penguin? Brenda's sticking her nose in the back, rest of her body in the bar proper and giving that black box a good long stare after serving up drinks. One can almost imagine her resisting temptation to take a look for herself, is a hard thing to do.
"Hey there, we met already Magnes, this isn't her first time in here" There's a wave though for the white blonde haired woman. "I'm tempted to slap her on the free drink tab but she needs one more visit before i'll do that" Around the bar ABby wanders, grabbing a stool adjacent to Eileen. "Better not be a penguin. Hope it's a superman cape" That being a joke but, who knows, could very well be.
Her attention goes to Eileen and her voice drops. "Kozlow, a man from Russia who was part of vanguard, showed up at the bar. Be careful okay? Might.. be a grudge or two with folks who were involved out there"
"Free drinks are always welcome," Daphne says with a 1,000-watt grin that is a stark contrast to Felix's skulking form and morose expression, but her grin grows somber as she hears Abby's warning to Eileen. She doesn't know the details of what happened overseas, but she knows that the world was apparently saved, somehow.
"It is not a penguin. I may'ave given you one b'fore, but that is long over." Huruma's hand flutters through the air beside her as she meanders closer to where the excitement seems to be, ending up putting her hands on the edge of bar and putting her weight into a lean there. If Eileen gets prickles from a look, Huruma's nearing presence when she stops to address Magnes might make her even more wary. Perhaps she is testing this, perhaps she is just being insertive. "I will give it to you later, show you what to do wit'it…"
To her credit, the apprehension that Huruma can sense coiling through Eileen no longer has anything to do with her shadow — if it ever did at all. Abigail's news thoroughly consumes her, renders her deaf, blind and mute for several long moments in which she does not move except to breathe as both her mind and body absorb this piece of information. Although the sound of Felix's entrance registers in her ears, she does make the correlation between the front door squeaking open and another body crowding the room.
This is probably fortunate for both of them. It's better that she does not turn to look. Finally— "Sasha?"
"You." Magnes says without hiding even an ounce of distaste for Felix, turning back to Abby with a warm smile. "If it's a cape, well, I'll be sure to pose for an awesome picture on a rooftop, not that I don't already do that." He tries his best to ignore their low talking, figuring he'll be told to butt out anyway. "I should move into my own place so I really can get my own pet. But alright, I'll stick around until later. I bet it's a giant sword… I should really get a giant sword."
Eileen's troubled demeanor is a tad harder to ignore than the low talking, and he just asks, "Eileen, you alright?"
"Me," says Felix, easily. And despite the various levels of toleration and dislike, he meanders for the bar with that particularly loose-jointed stride he has, and settles himself on a stool without hesitation. "Vodka, neat, please," he orders, before looking along it at those assembled.
Abigail is staying right between Felix and Eileen. The two are not known for playing nice with each other and the weird look that Magnes throws Felix troubles Abby herself. She nods her answer for Eileen, reaching for the cup of 7-up that Brenda pours for her and sighs when the bartender leans over, wheedling back and forth, blowing on her bubblegum and inquiring to the fed what's his poison and pleasure. "Stop by soon? Just watch out is all. I mean.. so far it's just Charlie but.. you never know. I have some other things to talk about" The clock is eye'd and her nose wrinkled. "I gotta go back upstairs. Cause no matter what you say Magnes, i'm not you and I need to study" She's that paranoid about failing.
When the conversation swings to something serious that doesn't involve her, it's time for the speedster to bounce. There's too much unexpected drama in her life right now anyway. It doesn't occur to her she was here when the uninvited guest stopped by to see Abby last week.
Daphne's off her stool, putting down a bill to cover tab and tip for the second round of drinks, Magnes' included. "Happy Birthday, Kid. It was nice meeting you, Eileen, and you again, Abby." She nods to those she didn't "meet" — Huruma and Felix, as she gathers up her coat and glances once more at the cell phone for the time. "Gotta jet." She doesn't take off in a blur as she might have once upon a time, but ruffles Magnes' hair before heading toward the door. Once outside and down an alley where no one can see her — then she'll put on the speed.
And to her credit, Eileen's coiling emotions catch Huruma's whiskers as easily as a breeze. The dark woman shifts her eyes up again, searching out Eileen and Abigail in silence. Magnes is left to guess and imagine on his own, and say a goodbye to his little friend. For now, concentration has skipped to others.
Revulsion, contempt, loathing — all emotions that one might expect Eileen to be experiencing on the subject of Aleksandr Kozlow if she's familiar with him, and it sounds like she is, and yet none are present. There's some resentment, hostility, but it's interwoven with other feelings that make her state more complex than the restraint her face is showing, the most inscrutable of which is hope. "Thank you," is all she says in the end. Then, to Mages: "I'm fine."
Pale fingers curl around her glass of vodka and soda flavoured with orange vest. Her lips find the rim and her eyes Felix's reflection in the mirror behind the bar, immediately causing a large drop of displeasure to spread visible ripples across a surface that only the empath can see.
"I'll help you study some time, Abby. This is something I probably have more experience than most at doing. Good luck." Magnes offers a quick wave, and turns to nod at Daphne. "See you later, Daphne! Thanks again for the present."
"I, well, alright." He offers a friendly look to Huruma, but he still seems set on being concerned with Eileen. "You want me to fly you home or anything?"
Felix doesn't say anything. He just smiles, slowly….and while it's utterly weary, it's also a strange mingling of snide and completely resigned. Hey, this is the water hole, this is where the lions and the zebra and the gazelle have a truce. And apparently it applies even in Abby's absence, or everyone's Antarctica adventure left enough common cause that fel doesn't feel compelled to go for the badge and the gun.
Better hold up in her wake, She doens't think she can withstand another murder - deserved or not - in or around her bar. "No Magnes, you can't help with this studying" She's not about to have him play piercing dummy and start IV's and such on him. "Take care Eileen. Stop by for dinner soon, real soon" Hint. "Drinks on the house Ivanov" She orders and with that, and 7-up in hand, Abigail's skimming around the bar again with only a pit stop to go up on toes, plant a kiss on huruma's cheek and then back into the back room and eventually upstairs.
Melissa has arrived.
It's an edgy few seconds, when Abby is able to just walk right up to Huruma and do something quite like that. And it also speaks volumes for the southern belle that does it. Kind of like sticking your head into the shark tank and giving one a kiss on the nose. Huruma has the smallest reaction she can manage, a small shift of her head to blink cat-like to Abby, before her eyes go roaming back up. Eileen's little ripples are interesting, but so is some guy on the far side of the room that is feeling much too desperate about something or other.
"Oh, no." Eileen lets a slow breath, both steadying and steeling herself at the same time. Magnes' offer is treated with polite reservation, reluctance written in the lines around her mouth and the depressed shape it takes at Abby's retreating back, corners turned pensively down. That's not to say she doesn't appreciate the offer. There's gratitude in her voice when she thinks to add, tone soft, "Another time."
Right now, she's more preoccupied with her thoughts the strange way that the taste of citrus and alcohol mingling with the last cigarette she had in her mouth tempers them. She'll be like this for awhile.
"Alright, Eileen. You should stop by my place some time, I don't think you've ever seen it. I'll treat you to pizza and introduce you to my roommate." Magnes stands now, taking his glass of Guinness with him. When he passes her, he brushes an arm over her shoulder, though looks back at Felix with a stare. "Don't do anything funny." he warns, then heads in Huruma's direction. "So, you wanna show me?"
It takes Fel a moment to realize that Mags just threatened him. And he laughs aloud. It's a surprisingly full-throated chuckle, not some sarcastic chuckle. He doesn't bother to reply.
The door opens to admit a new person; an entirely new face, really. Melissa has a smile on her face that suggests she's expecting to find a good time. Her steps are slow but will carry her towards the bar, and she uses the time it will take to reach that location to glance around, looking people over.
"Only after you are done here, as you've got t'take it home. D'no'drink too much." Huruma answers Magnes as anyone with assumed authority might, tapping her nails tersely on the counter between them. The phone in her other hand vibrates against her palm and the wood, a buzz of warning before she turns it face-up to check whatever it is that has come up onto the screen. A text message, it looks like. All that waiting for a few letters? Must have been important.
Magnes looks back at the new arrival, giving a brief nod before turning to Huruma again. "I don't wanna get as drunk as last night if I hit on women, I mean, I don't wanna wake up with a strange one or something. I'll take your present and call it a night. Almost everyone I know's gone, and Eileen's quiet."
Melissa may….not get what she's looking for. The staff are as professional as always, but it's something of a strange assortment present at the moment. Fel himself is brooding over his vodka - he upends one shot, leaves the glass for staff to retrieve, and requests another one, in polite but accented English.
Melissa finds herself a spot at the bar, and continues to look around while she waits to order her drink. The wallpaper gets a quick grin, but it's still people who get the longer looks. Magnes and Huruma get glanced over, as does Felix, before she's distracted by ordering an amaretto sour and setting her small wallet-type purse down on the bar and pulling out a pack of cigarettes from it.
Huruma and Good Time don't tend to go hand in hand, though she has since noticed Melissa sitting down to get a drink while talking with Magnes. "You could try doing it relatively sober, mmm? She is pretty cute, don'you think?" One set of long fingers gestures breezily towards the new patron, who is also very obviously by herself. "An'she's alone."
"She's really pretty, but, I don't really know her or anything… And I mean, I wouldn't even know what to say to a strange girl." Magnes swallows, suddenly growing nervous and tapping his fingers together before he's even attempted to do anything.
It's like a minor psychic power in its own right. Because while Fel doesn't -seem- to be watching Melissa, when she needs a light, there he is. At least, he's got that worn Zippo lit up, and waiting, without even a word. Doesn't remind her that really, smoking's not so legal in New York City bars.
Melissa doesn't seem to realize that she's being talked about, especially not when there's a guy helping her light up her sort of illegal cigarette. After she gets it lit and takes a drag she grins at Felix. "Thanks. Got a name to go with the light?" she asks, shifting slightly so she's facing him a little more, leaning a bit against the bar.
"Th'wiry little guy is getting more action than you, an'all he's done is give her a light. We are all strangers b'fore we are acquaintances. Grow a pair, Varlane, she's just a girl." Huruma's hand lifts up to swat the young man in the side of the forehead.
"Alright, alright! I saved the world, I can do this." Magnes straightens his denim jacket and unwrinkles his Weezer shirt, then heads over to the opposite side of Melissa. He takes a deep breath, and places his hand on the counter. "My name is Magnes J. Varlane. I'm that former cop who saved people on TV a lot. I can make professional level pizza from scratch, and my apartment looks like a comic shop threw up in it."
"Felix. Yes, that is actually my name, no, I am not named after the cat," he says. At least he puts enough good nature in it to not sound like an automated phone message. "How about you?"
Melissa glance back to Magnes when he starts talking, and she looks amused, her head tilting. "Yeah? I'm Mel, can't cook worth a damn, and have no idea what comic shop vomit looks like." Then back to Felix, still looking amused. "Mel, and what cat? Only cat I know is Garfield."
"Felix the Cat was the very first animated cartoon. Also the first cartoon to start the long trend of token animated female love interests. I believe it was also a comic, a remade 80s cartoon, and a clock." Magnes takes a seat on the stool next to her, then tilts his head to see what Felix has to say next.
Yes, this is how he marks his territory in the presence of another male.
"There's an old cartoon character named Felix the Cat, like he said. It wasn't the first animated cartoon, I think that first Disney piece with Mickey beats it out. Maybe the first that got widely distributed. Anyhow, most Americans ask me if I'm named after him when I'm introduced," Fel says, mildly. "So it's a pleasant relief not to get that question. Pleased to meet you, Mel. Short for Melissa?" he wonders, offering a hand, presumably for shaking.
Melissa shifts again so that it's easier to talk to both men without straining her neck, and she grins. "Yeah, it's short for Melissa, and I'll answer to either one. Or any version of Melissa, really. Pretty easy there. And a clock? That black cat clock with the tail and eyes that go back and forth?"
"Alice's Wonderland, not Alice /in/ Wonderland, mind you, was made in 1923, and was Walt Disney's first cartoon. Feline Folies was made in 1919, the first Felix cartoon. The history of animation was one of my fourth grade subjects." Magnes smiles at Melissa, and holds out a hand. "Hello Melissa."
"Yeah, a kitkat clock. I used to have one, because people couldn't resist giving me anything with that cat on it for my birthday. Don't know where it is now. I think it got destroyed when Sylar went through my apartment," Fel says, wryly.
"You know entirely too much about cartoons," Melissa says with a grin, and she takes both men's hands, one at a time and in the order they're offered. "And why would anyone destroy a clock? Especially a /cat/ clock?"
"I'm kind of a geek. I'm trying to play to my strengths here. I've never tried to pick up a girl before. I mean, not that I'm trying to pick up a girl now, 'cause, that would be stupid to say outloud…" Magnes clears his throat, and quickly motions two fingers so the drink that was sitting in front of his other stool, goes sliding across the counter with some invisible force, quickly passing them, then he catches it right into his hand. "Gabriel's weird about clocks." That much he knew from the comics.
"Because he was going through the apartment more or less destroying everything to get to me. Indiscriminate telekinesis will do that, and he's not averse to killing when he can. He trashed the whole place," Fel says. And he sounds bizarrely casual about it. He shakes her hand, gently - his own's callused and a bit spidery. Too thin.
Melissa cocks her head and watches the glass slide across the bar, then she gives Magnes another, slightly longer, more intense look. Her own hands are pretty soft, but her grip is firm. "Neat trick," she murmurs to Magnes before she nods to Felix. "Sucks. Why's he got a hard on for you?"
"He's dead now. And he may have tried to kill my ex a time or two, but he had issues he was finally starting to work out. Let's not speak ill of someone who was pretty close to me considering a friend. I already have an overwhelming desire to punch you for supporting that PR hounding crap with the police." Magnes has many buttons at the moment, though it's possible he was already trying to find a reason to hit Felix. For now, though, he simply takes a swig of his glass. "Thanks, I try to practice."
"He was a serial killer. And I'll believe he's dead when I see the body in the morgue drawer. His issues, as you put it, were homicidal insanity focussed on his fellow Evolved," Fel's tone remains bizarrely casual. "AT the time? Because I was an evolved neighbor of his - we lived in the same building. He takes the powers of other Evos, but has to kill 'em to do it. Since then, because I've tried to put him away. I'm an FBI Agent, and serial homicide is definitely our bag."
Melissa leans back slightly and she takes a minute to just silently smoke and study both of her current companions. "You both seem pretty open about bein' evolved. Registered and not worried about being locked up, I'm assuming?" she murmurs. Then she focuses on Magnes. "He was a serial killer who tried to kill your ex, and you're defending him?"
"It's his ability that makes him do it, he was only just learning how to control it before he died. I'm not saying it excuses anything he did, I even tried to kill him the second time he tried to kill my ex, but I know it's not his fault. It's like having to control a horrible monster you were born with. You don't even know what you're talking about." Magnes shakes his head at Felix and leans on his elbow, sighing. "Yeah, I'm registered. Had to register to be a cop for those few months I was plastered all over TV. Glad I resigned, they care more about PR than saving lives. By the way it's really hard to try and pick up a girl for the first time when you're peeving me! Not that I'm doing that or anything…"
"I know exactly what I'm talking about," Fel says, refusing to take offense. It's like he really doesn't care all that much. "I'll tell you what he didn't do. He never turned himself in. He never sought treatment. I've no sympathy for Gabriel Gray," He shrugs. "Yeah. I was an Agent when the law came down - so, hell, what was I gonna do? Keep lying and get fired? I registered." He levels a dry look at Magnes. "Life's hard, kid. Here's a hint. You wanna impress her favorably, start asking her about herself. What she likes, what her interests are, where she's from. And no, they care about saving lives. I was NYPD for ten years before I joined the Bureau. What they don't care for is you thinking you're Spiderman because you have a superpower and running around like you just got a Red Ryder BB gun for Christmas. Your intentions are good, I hope you do get to use your powers as you want, but you were a fuck awful cop."
Melissa holds her hands up. "Okay boys, how about we nix any conversation about serial killers or cops, hmm? And Magnes? For someone who's /not/ trying to pick up a girl, you keep mentioning it. Whether you are or not, relax, huh?" The cigarette is put out, and her attention shifts to her drink, which is half-downed fairly quickly.
"Yeah well…" Magnes squeezes his glass, which causes portion of his alcohol to start rising above it, without him really noticing. "She's right, this is stupid. And the last thing we need to do is get into a fight. A speedster versus a gravity manipulator… yeah, that won't cause any collateral damage." Finally, moving on from the subject, he asks, "So, Melissa, what do you do for a living?"
Felix gives Magnes a big thumbs up on that one. "AS you wish, m'lady," he says, easily. "Buy you a drink?"
Melissa's brows lift. "Let me guess…Gravity manipulator," she says, pointing at Magnes, "and you're the speedy one?" she says, shifting that pointing finger to Felix. "And I'd love another drink." The last of her current is downed, then the empty set down so she can reply in a deadpan voice to Magnes, "I'm independantly wealthy." She waits a beat then shrugs. "You could say I lobby for the rights of the Evolved. I think it's bullshit that they're required to register. I mean hell, did no one /watch/ the X-Men trilogy?"
"Despite what I keep telling everyone, no one believes that real life parallels comics a lot lately. I could tell you stories, if the government wouldn't shoot me in the head for it." Magnes shrugs, though nods in confirmation of her ability guess. "I have a bit of money now, wouldn't say I'm wealthy, but I'm gonna invest it in something. And… you like X-Men?"
"Do you now?" That rouses Fel from some of his languor. "And yeah, I agree. I mean, I believed it might do some good at first, but it's proven to be a millstone, not a help. You a lawyer, or a politician?"
Melissa shrugs. "The movies, sure. Not big on comics really, but you could say I collect movies. Gotta have a hobby, you know?" Felix's question has her busting out laughing. "Do I /look/ like a lawyer or politician? I mean, seriously, picture me in a suit. Got it in your head? See how ridiculous I'd look? But yeah, Registering is just a way of taking away privacy and rights. I mean, sure, there are some Evolved with dangerous powers, but there are unEvolved who are just as dangerous. Maybe a person can blow up a building with their mind. Big deal. So can anyone with the connections or knowledge to put a bomb in the right place."
"I think you'd really like some comics, there's some stuff out there that makes you feel like you're watching a movie." Magnes' drink stops floating and such when he calms down and raises it to his lips again. "I disagree with registration, but it looks like it'll be here to stay for a while. At least Donovan says he'll try to change it. I will admit that maybe if I were registered, I wouldn't have destroyed one of Tokyo's landmarks, but there's just as big a chance I'd be stuffed in Moab."
Felix motions the bartender over to refill his and Melissa's drink. "No, you don't. But hey, don't judge a book by its cover, right? Thank you for talking some damn sense, I've been having that argument with my superiors for months. I mean, yeah, the kids with the really dangerous powers need tutoring, but that's not an excuse to turn America into the Fourth Reich. Shit, my family immigrated to get away from that kind of stuff," he says, sourly.
"Thought you said you /were/ registered," Melissa says curiously to Magnes. And the perceptive might, just might, notice a slight stiffening to her body when he mentions Moab. "And I don't see required registration going away anytime soon, either. You get registered whether you like it or not, and whether you're dangerous or not. It's just the politicians trying to make the norms feel /safe/," she says with a sneer.
"Now I am, but back during Shibuya, I'm sure you heard of that, I wasn't registered, and I barely knew how to control my ability. If I could control it like I do now, all that stuff wouldn't have happened." Magnes yawns, standing up after downing his drink, then starts buttoning his jacket. "Things are gonna change sooner or later. To paraphrase Gabriel, countries have a way of working things out themselves, and I shouldn't worry too much about controlling things out of my control."
"It is a token measure," Fel admits, with a sigh. "Exactly. And god help me, I agree with Gabriel Gray on that one," He knocks back his vodka with a lazy flick of the wrist.
"Can't say I do. If they did, then people wouldn't still be leaving older countries for new ones, with the hope of things being different," Melissa points out. "And honestly, Magnes? If you can control gravity and destroyed a landmark, I'm surprised you're /not/ in Moab."
"I was close enough." Magnes says in resposne to Moab, getting his jacket all buttoned and offers her a hand. "I'm heading out. I need to make dinner or my roommate's either gonna starve or steal. Um, I think the phrase is… you wanna come back to my place?"
Felix stifles the laughter, this time. Just glances between Melissa and Magnes, like he's waiting for her answer.
"Well that wouldn't be very smart of me, going back to a near-stranger's place, would it?" Melissa answers with a grin. "But you can give me your number."
"Oh, sure!" Magnes reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper and a pen, writing his number down and leaving it there on the counter. He heads for the door after that, nodding back at the two. "Have a nice night! It was nice meeting you, Melissa!"
Felix watches Magnes go with a certain maddening serenity in his face. "Have a good evening, Varlane," he says, easily.
Melissa takes the paper and glances at it before she folds it and sticks it in her bag. "You too. See ya 'round," she says to Magnes as he heads off.
Felix just looks to Melissa, once Magnes is gone, and grins at her, a little conspiratorially.
Melissa cocks her head and grins back. "What? You look like someone who has a secret."
"Everyone has secrets," Fel says, a little tiredly. "So, how exactly do you crusade for the rights of the Evolved not to register, if you're not a lawyer and you're not in politics?"
"True, but what secret do you have that made you smile like that?" Melissa asks, turning again and leaning against the bar while she sips and talks.
"Honestly? Being a little bit smug I outlasted Stan Lee there," He grins, and now it's more sheepish than anything else. "Maybe I shoulda cut him more slack, he's really just a kid, but…."
Melissa laughs. "Outlasted? Are you not trying to pick up a girl too, then? Or is this some sort of weird guy thing?"
Felix shakes his head. "Not really out hunting, tonight," he says, before laughing a little. "I mean, look at me. Or rather, don't, because I know what I look like. Yes, it sort of was some weird guy thing. I feel bad for him, because it is terrifying to go up to a strange woman you find attractive and find some way of piquing her interest. On the other hand, well, hell, that technique needs some serious work."
Melissa grins. "He would be better at it if he'd just relax and stop pointing out how he's /not/ trying to pick up a girl when he's clearly trying to. He'll learn though. As you said, he is young. And you're not exactly ugly, so give yourself a break, hmm?" Another sip, then, "So you said you were a fed?"
"I am," he says, with a lift of his brows. "Special Agent Felix Ivanov, at your service," he notes.
"Special Agent? What makes you special? Or are all Evolved special agents?" Melissa asks curiously.
Now he just laughs. "That's just the title that FBI Agents get. Nothing to do with being Evolved," he says.
Melissa grins. "So why /special/ agent and not just agent?"
Felix spreads his hands. "Because J. Edgar Hoover was a huge fucking egotist, is my guess."
Melissa laughs. "Good enough reason for me. So what do you do anyway? Glorified cop or something?"
"More or less, yeah. So, when I did register, and I have the distinction of being the first FBI Agent out of the freak closet…..they didn't know what the fuck to do with me. So, they sent me back here and had me as the liaison to SCOUT, which was the Evolved crimes taskforce. They basically shuffled me back on the NYPD," Fel explains, easily.
Melissa looks a little disgusted. "Evolved crimes taskforce…Don't get me wrong, don't blame you, but I really hate all the laws and opinion of the Evolved. Someone who can…I don't know…heal, is considered as wrong and horrible, if not more, than an unevolved serial killer," she says, shaking her head.
"SCOUT really wasn't like that. We weren't the Gestapo, not the boots on the stairs at midnight," Fel protests. "We were what was needed to deal with Evolved criminals. There are, unfortunately, way too many people out there who take that advantage, whatever it may be, as license to fuck over everyone else, normal or not."
"Like I said, wasn't blaming you. Seems to me that having sympathetic people, whether Evolved or not, in the FBI and whatever is good for the Evolved," Melissa says, shaking her head. "I can't deny that there are some who use their powers to the detriment of others, but not /all/ of them are like that."
The Fed nods. "I agree. I agree absolutely. It's just….say a pyrokinetic does go bad? Let's face it, ordinary cops, not likely to be able to deal with him. IT's a matterof practicality, not ideology."
Melissa nods. "I can't argue with that. I don't even /want/ to argue with that. But then, not even most /evolved/ could deal with something like that. How could a mind reader handle it better than a normal person, for example? Or an empath?"
"Well, not every Evolved is necessarily better," Fel concedes. "It's not a blanket thing."
"No, it's not. But what the unevolved need to realize is that not every evolved is /bad/."
Felix takes a slow breath. "That I agree with wholeheartedly," Fel says, sadly.
"I imagine you've met some of the bad ones in your line of work," Melissa murmurs.
"All too many. It's made me a little biased," Fel notes. "Admittedly, the same is true for ordinary human."
Melissa arches a brow. "Biased? But /you're/ evolved. How can you be biased?"
Felix points out, "All I see, in my work….nearly all I see, anyhow, is the dark side of the human heart. It's skewed my viewpoint, you see?"
"Yeah, but are you biased about humans or just the evolved?" Melissa asks.
"Humans in general," Fel admits.
Melissa nods. "That I can understand. If you'd said just the evolved…well, you would've gotten even more of a lecture than I've already given you," she says, grinning.
Felix rubs at his eyes. "Basically, evolved ability has no apparent correlation to morality or its lack, is what I'm saying."
"Of course not. The evolved are people, just people with a special gift," Melissa says, smiling. "But a lighter subject, perhaps? What do you do when you're not working or debating your work?"
"I fence. I run. I read a lot. I swim when I can," he says, after a moment's thought.
Melissa's brows lift. "Fence? As in swords? And I don't think running is exactly something /fun/, unless you're running after women or something."
"With swords," Fel affirms. "Well, I like distance running. Sort of a hobby. I haven't done it seriously in a while. I should, though."
"Like marathons? Still doesn't sound too fun," Melissa says, shrugging.
"Low on the list of priorities," Fel says, drily.
Melissa shakes her head. "I don't buy it. Anyone, I don't care what their responsibilities or job, has to have a release valve or they burn out or blow up."
Fade.