Hiring the Daphne Express


daphne_icon.gif magnes_icon.gif

Scene Title Hiring the Daphne Express
Synopsis A newly healthy speedster stops in to give her new contact information to Magnes and gets a new mission.
Date April 16, 2010

Dorchester Towers Magnes' Apartment

After working damned near all night doing statistical stuff for Tracy, due to the day before being tax day and him having to collect and memorize all sorts of data for a morning meeting, Magnes slept away what bit of morning he had left after the meeting. He woke up and did whatever else he had to do for the day, then came back at around 5pm and fell asleep again, which is what he's currently doing, floating above the couch in a vintage white Spider-Man and his Amazing Friends t-shirt and blue jeans, with no shoes on. It's clear he plans to really enjoy what little time he has to rest right now.

When Daphne arrives, she'll see that this place is far larger than his old apartment, which was a glorified bedroom. There's a couch here, a nice entertainment center, a few bookcases full of TPBs and a few actual books, and college textbooks, then the usual posters all over the living room. There's a few other doors, but none of them are open right now. "Stop shocking me every time you kiss…" he mumbles, his subconscious rearing its ugly head in a dream.

Daphne arrives — she knows Dorchester well, and it surprises her that Magnes is living here of all places. She's bundled up against the cold weather, with a red hat and red scarf contrasting wildly with the pink coat she wears. Her cheeks are a little flushed, but over all, her skin is paler than it normally is, and she looks like she's probably lost ten pounds — quite a lot on her petite frame. A red-gloved hand knocks on the door, and she shoves her hands back in her pocket to wait for him to open.

Magnes groans slightly, rubbing his eyes as he slowly floats over to the door. He moves the cover to the side and peeks through the hole, then opens the door and floats back over the couch. He's curled himself up, continuing to hover and yawn, staring at her with a smile. "You're walking again. I told you it'd be fine eventually." he tiredly assures, still trying to wake up.

"It's not like it was a given. Apparently that flu has a forty percent chance of killing people. Donno how many of the survivors will lose their powers permanently. If I did… might as well have killed me, you know?" Daphne says, stepping in and glancing around the apartment. "Pretty swanky. Not as nice as my place, mind you, but it's pretty nice digs."

She pulls out a slip of paper with a phone number on it. "I just got out of, whatever you wanna call it, hospice or whatnot. Got a new phone so I figured I'd drop off the number. You know the rules. Don't leave any addresses or anything traceable in voice mails or text messages, keep it vague, in case I lose my phone, like I lost the last one." She hands him the paper.
MAIL: You sent your message to Ellis.

"You should never give up. I'd have found a way if your ability didn't come back." Magnes sounds sure of that, floating over to carefully take the paper from her, keeping his legs crossed in the air. She doesn't normally see him float this much, but it might have something to do with how tired he seems. "Let me cook something for you."

He nudges his head in the direction of the kitchen. "And if you're running alright, I could actually use you for a favor. It's actually pretty simple, I just need you to deliver something, and not look at it."

There's a somberness that was never there in the past in her eyes as she just gives a shake of her head at his optimism. "I think I felt I was on borrowed time anyway, or maybe because I used my power in bad ways, karma was kicking my ass for it," Daphne murmurs quietly. "Apparently that's not the case, though. Which is good, because I really like what I do." There's a hint of her usual spritely self when she smirks at that.

"I'm running all right. I haven't tested it too much yet… actually walking unless I need to, and sort of building up my endurance. The flu took a lot out of me. And I don't want to run long distance with the weather like this — I can't look at the weather channel and trust it not to change, you know? When it's a person in charge, not just Mother Nature."

She follows him to the kitchen, leaning against the doorway there. "So what's the job?"

"There's a man named Matt Parkman, works for Homeland Security." Magnes opens the fridge in the rather narrow kitchen, pulling out a package of boneless chicken, then starts oiling up a pan, cutting bell peppers and onions quite expertly with a knife and a cutting board, just generally getting into the process of cooking. "He's also a telepath, which is why you're perfect for the job. I need you to give him a letter, somewhere he absolutely cannot ignore it. Hell, make a show of blowing in and out with your ability if you have to. Just don't stay too long, I don't want you getting your mind read. This has to be that Matt Parkman, the age is about right, he's a little husky from what I've seen on the internet…"

"Oh, sure, make a big show of using my power in front of a DHS agent, that doesn't sound like a problem at all," Daphne says with a roll of her eyes as she reaches up to pull her hat off her head, then removes her gloves, scarf and coat, dropping them on a nearby counter. "I won't be staying long if I'm dropping off a message. Just make sure that it's not a big box or something where they think it's a bomb, all right?" She slides into a chair to watch him cook. "Him being DHS, that's gonna cost you, you know. It's not like just stealing a comic book or something."

"I keep forgetting I pay you." Magnes starts dumping diced vegetables and sprinkling spices over the pan, quickly cutting the chicken into slightly smaller pieces before dumping those in too, then starts stirring it all up with a metallic spatula. "Around how much is this gonna cost me? I've been saving up. And uh, will the fact that this might aid in insuring the freedom of the country get me a discount? Not that I mind or anything, I think the mercenary thing is hot." he teases, continuing to focus on his cooking. He even pours a little teriyaki sauce into it all.

"You better pay me. I haven't done any work in more than a month," Daphne points out. "And I'm not mercenary. I don't just do things for money. I do them for fun, too, you know." She sticks her tongue out at him, and runs a hand through her hair, which needs re-touched, the dark roots peeking through the top of the platinum locks. "Tell you what, I'll do a little research on it and see what the element of risk is and come up with a price. I'll give you ten percent off for trying to save the world or whatever. You got the message ready to go now, or gonna take some time to make it?"

"One minute…" Magnes grabs three plates, distributing the teriyaki stir-fry between all three places, and wraps one up to put it in the microwave. He carries theirs out to the living room and proceeds to head into his bedroom, where he stays for about two minutes. "Alright, found it."

He leaves the room, which from any glance before he closes it will give her a good idea that it's a hell of a lot geekier in there. He sits the blank letter on the table in front of her, then takes a sticky note he brought with him to write something down on it, and hold it up so only she can see it, away from any electronics. On the off chance that you do get curious and open this letter, don't do it out in the open or around any electronics. "I figure that's a good price estimate, but I'll see what you come up with." He's pretending the sticky note is a price estimate, before crumbling it up and sliding it into his pocket. "Eat up."

The speedster quirks an eyebrow at the strange behavior, but gives a shrug. He's clearly worried about technopaths but he already said various things that were more telling than that. "Riiiight," she says with a slow nod. "I'll get back to you on it." She gives a shake of her head to indicate she won't read it. "And how will you know I delivered it, in order to pay me?" she asks, picking up a fork and beginning to eat. Normally she would have said no, but she's weak from being ill and even just using normal speed takes a lot of her energy.

"I'll know. Besides…" Magnes smiles, grabbing a piece of chicken on his fork. "I trust you, Daphne." he says with absolute confidence, sitting back with the plate in his lap, then grabs the remote and starts changing the channels. "I don't know you too well, that's true, but I really do believe you're a genuine and honest person." His eyes squint, looking over at her, then he starts leaning in, invading personal space, but he finally says what exactly he's looking at after a moment. "You're not a blonde."

"An honest person? I'm a thief, kid. But I'm an honest thief, most of the time. Mostly because I don't have to lie to get out of trouble, because I don't get caught," she says with a shake of her head. She leans back as he leans in, looking at him with one eyebrow cocked in bemusement. "Of course I'm not really a blonde. And no one is really this blonde. This hair color doesn't occur in nature, dear." Sure, there are some white-blonde scandinavians but their platinum locks have a softer, less-shocking tone.

"Being a thief isn't so bad, as long as you do good things with your skills once in a while. If you must be a thief, be an endearing thief." Magnes offers, smiling and moving back a bit to give her the personal space again. "It's hard to imagine you as anything but blonde. I know this guy who's really good with hair, if you wanted it fixed, but I'm curious what you look like as a brunette…"

"If you call me endearing, you will force me to stab you in the thigh with a spork." Too bad she is holding a fork, but they're not eating frozen yogurt. She finishes her meal and lays down the fork in question, slipping off her seat and putting on the layers of winter clothing to keep her warm outside. "I gotta jet. And I got a hair guy. I just have been too busy coughing up blood and flailing around like Jello to have it done, you know what I mean?" She tugs her hat back on her apparently-offending roots, and slips the letter in the inner pocket of her coat. "I'll look this guy up and get back to you. Timeline for delivery?"

"As soon as possible." Magnes sits his plate on the table, then stands up to go see her out. "And hey, like I said, when I lose my ability I barely have a sense of balance and just fall into things a lot. If you ever permanently lose your ability, I'll get rid of mine and be the Jar Jar Binks to your Jello." He opens the door for her, nodding. "Be careful out there."

"The worst has already happened. It just wasn't permanent," Daphne says with a one-shouldered shrug. "I'll call you with a figure and figure it out from there. Thanks for dinner." Refueled and rested, she takes a step before becoming a red, pink, and white blur disappearing down the hall and around the corner to the stairwell that will lead her out of the apartment building.

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