adam_icon.gif huruma3_icon.gif

Scene Title Postcards
Synopsis Adam grows wings, though a great many rogues, in time- will return to what is familiar.
Date July 11, 2010

Central Park

It is just getting past dusk when Huruma finds her detour into the tip of Central Park. Nobody is around- most people are at home or going that way, as per curfew. She passes an ice cream vendor wheeling himself away, closed up shop and purposeful in his pacing to park his cart with what she assumes, will be some fence or truck. It is a warm night, though far from humid; the air has that familiar, fresh scent of summer, and even under the streetlights, fireflies find themselves dotting the grass with tiny yellow blips. Frogs peeping too, somewhere.

Huruma plants herself square on one of the many wrought iron benches lining the sidewalk, her eyes fixed ahead on the knoll and its flickering denizens. Her inner child makes a question of how soft the grass might be for rolling in.

Adam, himself, is walking down a path in central park. He is bouncing a basketball along with way. He apparently has the 'walk and bounce' part of basketball down, but shows no tendency for any other elaborations to the craft. At any rate, once in range, he bounces the basketball onto the ground and into Huruma's general direction before he steps up to the bench and takes his own seat.

"Jus'b'cause I'm black? Tall?" Huruma's arms snatch the ball out of the air when it comes a-bounding nearer, her fingers latching onto it like a dragon with a pearl. Her lips are curled into a small smile, eyes going from the ball to the field, to Adam, once he sits down beside her. The palms of her hands move around the pimpled skin of the basketball, the rough surface audible on her skin. When Huruma looks at him, her gaze is half-lidded, somewhat expectant, before going off to her left to watch a little fire bug float past.

"You seem more of a Polo man."

Adam leans back, "Actually." he says, reaching over and taking the ball, "I was playing basketball. Shooting some hoops." he does not say how he did, which probably means not well, "And frankly, I was never much of a Polo man. I liked rugby and socca." he pauses, "Before that, we had pretty dumb sports." he bounces the ball lightly and says, "So, I'm leaving this city. It bores and annoys me."

"Lacrosse?" Huruma questions, leaning back and rolling the ball into Adam's hands. "A lot of things annoy you." She is oh-so astute in this observation, looking back to him and resting half-folded hands on her knees. "I woul'be surprised if you did not get bored here. You did once b'fore, an'ere you are once again." Unsurprised, Huruma is still able to play the role of agreeable companion creature. She cannot imagine on her own, what it would be like to be an immortal- instead, she gets the experiences and lessons that it creates straight from the horse's mouth.

Adam mms, "Too many…" he waves a hand as if looking for the word. "People." he shakes his head, "All of them…chattering and breathing and breeding and all sorts of other unpleasant things." he glances over, "You could come with me, if you like. But, somehow I don't think you will."

"I admit. It is quite tempting." What Huruma gives him this time is a knowing smirk, and an odd flutter amidst his centuries-old mood. "And I do know how you feel. Per'aps more literally than m'sympathy suggests." She knows how it feels to experience too many people doing too many inane things. "Th'city may annoy me, but I'ave yet t'become bored. I think that is b'cause of m'inexperience in comparison t'yours."

Adam shrugs his shoulders just so and leans back on the bench, sliding his arm around the back and gently upon her shoulders. He looks thoughtful, "I suppose." he considers the matter, "Too many super heroes running about. And then children who say they're not superheroes, and then do superhero things. And then they get together in a great big romper room and try and decide what to do and end up doing nothing. They're boring people. I wish I had ebola to release."

Though Huruma does not have much physical room to lean further back, she expounds on what verbal room she still has, with a gently teasing drawl. "I think you've tried something like that b'fore. Or maybe m'memory is foggy." At least she is quick to follow it up, supporting of the first idea. "It does sound t'me tha'what you need is travel. The world is'ardly all boring, even if New York may be. Do me a favor an'see Africa, f'instance. You'ave learned language from me- put it t'use?"

Adam considers and shrugs again, "Maybe. There's quite a few places I never spent much time in. Africa, South America, Russia, China.." he waves a hand in a sort of vague manner, "We'll see where I end up. I suppose, at least in Africa I could incite some sort of brutal revolution. They seem to be easy to do there. Have a real vacation for once."

"You could try. Stranger things'ave happened there." Huruma turns her gaze up to watch across the knoll again, and the distant blinks. "I hear Argentina is nice. I don'know if I should suggest Madagascar. Dajan would not take kindly t'funny business. Anywhere else, though- I am sure a revolt would be …lovely. Will you send me postcards?" She laughs only a little, but it is enough to bring amusement to her features.

Adam mmms, "Sure, I'll send you postcards." he says in response. He's quiet for some moments, just watching the park. Occasionally, he tries to spin the basketball on his finger, but doesn't do much of a job of it. He pauses, "There's some business I need you to maintain for me while I'm away. At least for the forseeable future."

The park is not much, as it once was, and empty, as it never was- but it can still provide a measure of serenity for those who look for it. Huruma sits there in the half-dark with him for some time, it seems.

"I will do what I can, provided it is nothing- outlandish." Huruma does not actually think so, but it is always necessary to create boundaries.

Adam tilts his head a moment in thought and shrugs, "I suppose you'll have to decide." he pauses, "I've hired this girl. A Ygraine Fitzroy to run the bar. She'll also be going to school to get her MBA so she can run the bar. Why don't you just watch and see how that goes. Paul (Heart) pays her out of the corporate funds, so I don't think you have to worry about any of that."

"So, essentially- jus'keep an eye on her an'th'bar? And on whatever unwrapped business, I would guess?" Huruma can play this role too, if she must. Such a multi-faceted thing she is. "Have y'got many loose business ends?"

Adam shakes his head, "I don't know if I'd call any of them loose. They're tied up in contracts and paid and such. But, I'm not going to be here to oversee them." he pauses, "There's another. Her name's Elaine, she's under contract for a couple years for translations for me." he pauses, "She's transcribing all that stolen Takezo business. It will take some time." he pauses, "For the most part, just check in on her now and again. But currently she and Magnes, apparently that's her boyfriend." he twirls a finger and rolls his eyes, "Are having some trouble with her ex boyfriend or something? If you could just look out for her well being, since Magnes seems incapable of it."

Huruma laughs when Magnes comes up. She can't help it. Though for her part, she tries to quiet it once she starts. "Mmm. I'ave been doing quite a bit of looking after as of late. I am sure one more body will not b'difficult. Push comes t'shove, I can jus'kill th'offender an'that will b'that. I shall see how it pans."

Adam lifts his shoulders, "That was my advice, but Magnes believes such matters can be handled without death or something." he shakes his head, "Speaking of the littlest super hero, he might come begging about for money. I told him if he got the tracking chip out of his neck, I'd help him become batman." he pauses, "I was not going to invest a lot of money in this venture, but it seemed like it might be amusing. Give it your best judgment. He should go after Linderman and the Triads. He seems to want to avoid any targets of value, I said I wouldn't let him. Can you handle that?"

"Batman." Huruma rubs her hand along her face, fingers pausing at her temples. "I can. As much as I'd hate t'indulge him, I know how much you love t'see stupid people fail. And I think I will pay his little girl a visit b'fore long. See what I can do up front."

Adam ahs and shakes his head and says, "I'm not done with Magnes." he says in response. He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a small brick of clay with a timer on it that's wrapped in a plastic bag. It's not a bomb, it's quite obvious to anyone who has worked with explosives, but it does look like a bomb if one's experience with bombs was tv and movies. "You're to tell Magnes that someone has left a bomb in the ball pit of Chuck E. Cheese in Brooklyn." he pauses, "In the bottom of the ball pit and he's the only one close enough to find it and defuse it. I want you or someone else to be there, with a camera and put the video on the internet as well as my own copy. I would like to see him banned from there. I'll be leaving the present there for him tonight."

Huruma knows better than to ask if he is serious. What little fun he can have, he has. Instead, she finds herself staring at the 'bomb'. "That is a terrible fake bomb. I wish I did not know m'way around one, it would b'less pitiful. Glorious, that I also know he'd fall for it." She stifles a chuckle. "I do not know that I could get to it tonight." In a few ways, she would rather not do it at all. Though, if the aim is to make Magnes look like a fool, she always could find a time, sometime.

"I doubt that it needs to be done tonight. Better when there's kids around to cause Magnes to panic." he pauses, "And, of course, you have access to the funds and the fort upstate. I doubt I'll be using it any time soon." he pauses and glances over, "Well, my flight leaves soon enough. Would you care to go help me pack?"

"I thought you'd never ask." Huruma says this rather neutrally, maybe even peacefully. She knew that if anyone were to see him off, that it would be her; a simple matter of knowing that she is one of- or perhaps the only- capable person that he's got at this fork in the road. Her hand lifts to cover a palm over his knuckles around her shoulder, before she slides out from under and lifts silently to her feet. "Where are you flying first?"

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