2014.05.27 - Repo Fail

Early afternoon in Harlem doesn't usually see much other than the rush hour of working stiffs coming back home. However, today there's a bit of a crowd forming in front of the local homeless shelters. In the middle of the crowd is a young man, dressed in a t-shirt and chino, standing next to a small, tall table.
On the table is a multitude of items that anyone who's ever seen a magic show would recognize, including metal rings, a brightly colored box, a black wand with white tips, and even a top hat. The young man standing next to the table is currently chatting away at the crowd and offering a fan of cards, for "Someone, anyone, pick a card."
Behind him on the wall of the shelter is a small sign that read, 'Today only! Street magic show! All tips to benefit Sunrise Shelter!'
This incarnation of Croyd is five foot tall, blond hair, green eyes, in his early twenties. He's dressed in a wife beater shirt with a Despicable Me minion going "Whaa?" and jeans. He is totally unshaven.
Croyd likes the Sunrise Shelter. They've helped him out a few times. He won't mug anyone here, but his stomach is grumbling. He stops off at a nearby hot dog vendor and orders six hot dogs. A magic show might be just the thing. A remote control airplane flies over head. One of the weirder powers he's ever had to be sure.
A street magic show is certainly an attention-getting event (especially when the person running it is actively trying to get attention, of course). So, it probably isn't any surprise that one rather scrawny kid's attention was in fact caught. It might be a little surprising how little excitement or...anything...he's showing with regard to the prospect of a show, but...it was caught, anyway. The short kid slowly works his way through the gathering crowd, aided by his small size but harmed by his utter lack of coordination, but eventually manages to find his way to the front, staring up at the man with the cards emotionlessly. Finally, he reaches up, slowly drawing one of the cards from the hand. A long pause. "Yewie requires additional cards to play any card games Yewie has learned. Should Yewie draw additional cards at this time?" he says, in monotone.
Arana is out on patrol, and well nothing seems to be happening at the moment. Spotting the magic show, well it is cheaper than a movie and the young hero is bored. She leaps across to a nearby roof and then lays one her belly as she peers over the edge and watches from above.
Gabriel looks down at Yewie, taken aback for a moment. After he takes a moment to put his game face back on he gives the boy a smile and shakes his head, "Its not a card game, its a magic trick." Looking away from the deck he tells the younger boy, "Just make sure you remember which card you have, go ahead and show it to everyone else but not to me, then put it back in the deck." 
Whatever appearances might say it seems this is not an impromptu show. More and more people are showing up, coming straight up to the crowd. Clearly there has been some sort of advertising and some work put into planning the show since not only is there a hot dog vendor here but a few other street food vendors have lined up in front of the shelter as well.
Croyd proceeds to buy a sample and eat a sample from each of the vendors present while watching the card tricks with interest and amusement. The remote control plane is doing aerial acrobatics and loop de loops of course but not distracting from the main show.
Arana watches from her rooftop vantage point as she rest her hands under her chin and watches the scene as she bends her low legs up and idly kicks her feet.
"Understood. Yewie will memorize card." 157--Yewie says. He glances briefly at the card, then dutifully raises it to show it to the others, standing on tiptoe to get it high enough that people behind the front row can see, careful to avoid showing it to Gabriel. After a few moments of this, he slowly turns and looks at the deck, then very slowly puts it back into the deck. "Yewie has performed as instructed."
"Thank you, Yewie." Turning back to look at the crowd Gabriel starts to shuffle the deck, using multiple little tricks when doing so, even putting it on the table, spreading the cards in a fan and somehow making them do the wave. Finally he takes the deck back in hand and flips the first card over. "Is this your card?"
A second airplane swarms over by Arana as she looks from a distance. It would say hello if an airplane could talk, but this isn't a sadly derivative Pixar movie. It's the real world.....or something like it. So it just flies around a couple of times. Croyd eats the five ice-creams he totally hasn't mugged anyone for though his funds are getting low. He's curious how the card trick turns out. He dabbled with a bit of that as a kid. He sucked, but he dabbled.
157 watches the card trick with...well, there's no sign of any interest, because that would require some semblance of emotion, but it at least seems to have some of his attention for the moment. When the card is flipped from the top of the deck, he takes a look at it, as Gabriel requested. Pause. Look up at Gabriel. "Negative. Yewie's card differs from revealed card."
Gabriel's gives Yewie a strange look. after the confusion passes and he looks around the crowed with an apologetic smile he offers the boy the deck once again, "Strange. Try again, lets see if the next one it right?"
Croyd has made four planes at this point and is managing to stave off hunger for now, watching the show with curiosity. His stomach gurgles.
157 nods. "Affirmative. Yewie will repeat process as instructed." He pulls another card from the deck, inspects it briefly, shows it to the crowd and not to Gabriel, the whole process done precisely as it was the first time...though he does, for a brief moment, look up to notice the presence of the four remote control planes. They get a brief pause from the boy, but he still returns his attention to Gabriel and the cards, returning his card to the deck.
Gabriel laughs for a moment as his instructions are misinterpreted but goes with the flow and asks the crowd, "Was that his original card?" to which he gets a resounding "NO!".
He looks very confused again then suddenly slaps his forehead with an open hand and lets out a loud "Doh! I forgot the most important part." Going over to the table he grabs the wand then makes a couple of passes over the deck which finish with a sharp tap, "That should do it! Tricks don't work without the wand!" Then he takes the deck, bends it a bit and sends the whole thing flying up into the air. As the cards fall they are all the exact same card. Turning back to Yewie he asks, "How about now? Is any of those your card?"
Croyd notices 157 noticing the planes and is curious. Can this kid sense something? He walks toward the front of the crowd and spots all the cards looking the same. He claps. Good trick. Oh wait, might be the wrong card. He stops clapping unless its the right one.
There's a long pause, and 157 looks up at Gabriel. "All cards Yewie is able to see match the proper suit and value of card Yewie initially chose. Yewie cannot confirm whether any individual card is precise card Yewie initially chose, unless permitted to inspect each card in detail. Process may require several minutes and may not result in successful identification." He's very literal. And he speaks very slowly. In monotone.
Gabriel lets out a belly laugh in response to Yewie's answer and looks around at the crowd, "Translation, ladies and gents, its the right card." Putting a hand on Yewie's shoulder he gently turns him to face the crowd, "Let have a hand for my awesome, if a little strange, assistant. And up next, for a break from the magic, the Amazing Ace." Along with his last sentence he waves at Croyd and his remote control planes, as if it was all part of the plan. The crowd breaks into applause which continue when Croyd is introduced as the 'Amazing Ace'.
Regardless of Croyd's reaction Gabriel walks away and goes to whisper with a vendor selling shishkabobs. After a quick whispered conversation his hands the man some money in response to which the vendor starts preparing a plate full of 'kebobs.
Croyd cringes for a sec. They got him! Oh wait. No. They have no idea who he is. Right. He waves at folks and say, "That's right!" Is there a way he can get food out of this? A dozen planes appear, one right after the other and they begin to fly around in an impressive display of aeronautical...er....aerealness. He then spots the kebobs...is this a paying gig? Well awesome! The planes perform even more impressive, even impossible stunts, a star pattern, a zig zag, rings around people and the like.
As the aerobatics show starts Arana gets up from her seat on the rooftops and swings away, unnoticed by the distracted crowd.
157 stands there, facing the crowd. "Yewie is awesome, if a little strange. Yewie has performed acceptably. Understood." He keeps standing there like that for a few moments, until finally he turns to look over at Croyd and his planes. "Analysis: Number of remote-control airplanes has increased appreciably since previous observation. Moderate probability planes released by hidden assistants. Moderate probability planes created by superhuman or paranormal abilities. Further observations required in order to confirm." Fortunately, the kid /does/ speak pretty quietly.
Gabriel returns from the vendor with a plate full of a dozen 'kebabs. "And for his next trick the Amazing Ace is going to control /all/ his planes /while/ he eats!"
While all this is going on a group of four men that look very much like they belong in this area of Harlem, which is not normally a good thing, start shoving their way through the crowd. A crowd which quickly starts to thin as some of the locals recognize the quartet. Once they reach the front of the crowd they look right at Gabriel and the leader, a man in his mid-20s, of some kind of mixed heritage and almost 6 feet tall, says, "Well, well, well. If it isn't our very own Robin Hood. So Robin, you kicked some of my guys out of this here shelter a few months ago. And I figure this li'l party here has made just 'bout 'nuff money to cover all'a the losses."
Croyd grabs the food and begins to eat. He is TOTALLY going to control the planes while he eats, and just as Gabriel said, he will oblige him. The kebabs are good too. While the gang guy is making his little speech, three planes turn course and attempt to slam into each guy, going high, low and in the gut.
157 still hasn't moved an inch from the spot, which means he's standing basically right next to the thugs when they work their way to the front. An ordinary kid might, say, at least step back a bit, maybe get closer to someone who looks protective or some such. 157...just kind of stands there, doing nothing but turning to look at the thugs. He listens quietly as the lead thug speaks, and just continues watching as the planes come flying in. "Analysis: High probability recent arrivals are involved in criminal activities. Recent arrivals do not appear to have legitimate claim to profits of magic show and are currently engaging in threatening behavior in sight of multiple witnesses. Yewie recommends recent arrivals cease threatening behavior and exit area. Moderate probability threatening behavior will otherwise be reported to security forces, leading to consequences varying from increased scrutiny of recent arrivals' activities to arrest, depending on other factors."
Gabriel sighs as the crowd thins even more then snorts as one of the thugs goes down to a plane in the stomach. One of the others manages to duck while their boss steps in front of the last one, taking a plane to the face. And acting like a mosquito just targeted him, ignoring the pieces of plane falling around him.
Gabriel rolls his eyes then puts his hands in his pocket, "Dude, this is all for a good cause. Why would you try to steal the money from the people that need them most. Or push drugs on people that can't afford them?" He's ignoring the pieces of falling plane as much as the head of the thugs is, as if it was nothing unusual to watch someone get hit by a miniature plane and not even flinch, let alone get injured.
Croyd gets angry. They're interfering with his Kebob! The bastards. He takes the iron kebab thing and turns it into a pretzel, "hey bub, you're not the only one with super strength. Now why don't you make like a tree and," plane to the face outta nowhere as he attempts to use it as a distraction to throw a punch.
"Analysis: Leader of criminal group demonstrates probable super-resilience," 157 notes, and finally takes a step back...not out of any fear, clearly, but to allow Croyd a nice and clear path to the man without obstructing his movement. At present, the boy doesn't seem inclined to get involved in the struggle, but he's not leaving the area, either. "Priority observation targets: Superhumans detected. Yewie will observe events. Notification: Yewie is not acting in favor of either side. Attempt to harm or capture Yewie will force Yewie to take defensive action. Possibility exists that defensive action could negatively impact continued function of attacker."
"Well, this makes things a little easier. You go get'im Ace." Gabriel pulls a hand out of one of his pockets and grabs Yewie by the arm, not ungently, and tries to pull him further away from the brawl that's starting up. To the crowd he calls out, "2 to 4 on Ace! Who wants to take me up on it!? All proceeds still go to the Sunrise!" And many of the crowd, who had just stopped at a safe distance instead of completely leaving, start calling back with bets.
For his part the boss of the thugs does indeed get distracted by the plane. It seems the first hit might have not caused damage but it must have hurt some because he dodges the plane just to take the punch. The man slides a few feet back, knocking over one of his henchmen before standing back up, "You'll have to do better'n that, bub." And he comes back, stalking towards Croyd.
Well...CRAP...Croyd's no hero...that was supposed to work. No matter, this guys attacking a homeless shelter. Croyd doesn't fight fair though and a consistent bombardment of planes in the eye keeps hitting the guy while Croyd looks for something...useful like...that US Postal Mailbox and tosses it at the guy, and that trash can, and tosses it at the guy, and the manhole cover. He keeps looking around for stuff.
157 lets Gabriel lead him back a bit, though even if Gabriel's being careful the kid manages to stumble a bit. Not terribly coordinated, 157. "Yewie will refrain from placing wager. Yewie does not carry much money. Additionally, Yewie's purpose is observation, not investment or development of monetary resources." He keeps watching, but takes off his bookbag, unzipping it to reveal a surprisingly large (and rather badly damaged) antique 1800s educational atlas, which he carefully lifts with both hands and holds to his chest with both arms, needing both to manage the weight of the book anything resembling well. "Preliminary defensive measures prepared."
Once Yewie is out of immediate danger Gabriel goes around the two main combatants and disposes of the other three thugs in quick order. Although he doesn't use any particular style of fighting he's clearly an experienced fighter, using a mish-mash of different combat techniques.
Croyd has his hands full thought. The thug boss dodges the mailbox, takes the trash can on a shoulder, brushing it off after the impact bends it around his body, and catches the manhole cover like a Frisbee then throws it back at Croyd.
Croyd gets hit by the manhole cover and knocked back. Ow. What a jerk. He slowly starts to get up and then notices that he's landed right next to a street lamp. How handy! He grabs it out of the ground, concrete and all, and with a mighty swing attempts to bash the thug!
As the manhole cover hits Croyd and starts to fall to the ground, 157 suddenly speaks extremely rapidly--something that sounds like a mix of mathematics and strange foreign words--and there's a flash of light and a sucking sound as a portal appears underneath the manhole cover, with an exit right just over the entry portal, causing it to fall through them in a looping pattern, picking up speed quickly as it approaches terminal velocity. "Secondary defensive weapon located. Secondary defenses engaged. Notification: Battle between superhumans has become significantly destructive to surrounding environment. High probability current damage repair costs equivalent to or greater than profits of magic show. High probability persons in local area may be endangered by continued battle," 157 drones on. "Recommendation: Persons without involvement in battle or observational mission should exit area immediately to avoid damage."
Gabriel sighs as the fight starts getting a little more out of hand then looks down at Yewie, "Exactly Yewie. Looks like I'm going to have to step in." He doesn't step in thought. Instead he runs off and disappears into the shelter.
Meanwhile the boss thug takes the hits of the lamp post but he seems to have been through this before. Instead of standing his ground he lets the hit carry him along the street, wrapping his arms around the pole. Once the momentum is spent he starts trying to pull the lamp pole away from Croyd.
As the struggle goes on a brightly colored figure comes out of an alley next to the shelter. Dressed in a skin tight red, black, and yellow outfit and wearing over-sized, wrap around sunglasses, he moves fluidly, taking steps that seem to be a little too long for a normal man.
Croyd gets the streetlamp yanked out of his hand. Croyd sure wishes he remembered all the stuff he'd forgotten...like fighting this dude. Instead, Croyd uses the appearance of plastic man to make another dozen planes, only this time, he's using his power to over charge the engines and speed the little suckers up, right at the moment 'plastic man' get in on the fun...POW to the head.
The fight's going on, and 157 still isn't moving any further away. The manhole continues dropping through the portal loop, having reached terminal velocity by now, but the boy doesn't do anything else with it yet. It's his defensive weapon...he has no interest in ending this battle if it isn't actually endangering him or anything he needs...which is basically nothing here, in his estimation. "Additional superhuman detected," is his only reaction to the new participant's appearance.
Appearing from seemingly out of nowhere with a whoosh of air and a swirl of street trash, Pietro Maximoff stops to take a long thoughtful look over the situation (Almost a full second). The self-proclaimed fastest man in the world... well, leans against a nearby wall and folds his arms across his chest to watch for a moment. The fight is certainly interesting enough for the man to stop wandering the city, but he hasn't quite decided which side to be on... if any. "The lamp post is a nice touch." He observes, to nobody in particular.
As Pietro appears PlasGabriel is already stretching out, impossibly long arms wrapping around the surprised thug. Before the man even gets a chance to react he's wrapped up like a red, black, yellow, and skin colored mummy, with PlasGabriel's face staring at him from the end of an overly long neck, "Suck being invulnerable and super-strong when you can't move, doesn't it?" Then he yells out at the crowd, "All bets are off people. Ace gets disqualified because of friendly interference!" Which is met by chuckles and good-natured boos from the crowds.
Croyd tag teams the guy with no hesitation. Screw Honor. He does a flying punch to the guys face as fast as he can run.
The thug was about to respond to PlasGabriel's teasing when he takes one right along the side of his face. And this time there's really no dodging, or rolling with the punch. Croyd effectively proves the thugs is just super resilient /not/ invulnerable. His head snaps almost all the way around, stretching his captor a bit in the process and then he slumps, passed out.
157 remains stock still where he is, but his eyes turn to note the presence of Yet Another Superhuman. This has been a pretty good place to observe, surprisingly enough. Lots of superhumans showing up. "Additional superhuman detected," he notes, before returning his attention to the fight...which draws to what appears to be a close. 157 isn't letting his "defenses" go until it's clear nothing's going to come at him suddenly, though.
"Huh." The white-haired man with the lightning bolt on his chest straightens from the wall, stretches for a moment, then with a blast of wind and a blur, is standing within punching/grabbing/rasslin' distance of the scuffle. "So..." KRACK. One assailant is punched and seems to be down for at least a middling count, "Huh. Was going to offer a hand, but needed to assess the good-guy bad-guy situation first." He smirks at the downed thug, then back to the other two, "Don't suppose you'd fess up if you were the bad guys?"
PlasGabriel unwinds himself from around the unconscious thug boss and looks down at the other three passed out thugs and the mes of remote control airplane parts littering the ground. While his body snaps back into a normal human shape he says, "Yep. Good guys here. Would you happen to have a cellphone? Not much space for one in these outfit and the cops need to be called." Teasingly he calls out to the crowd around him, which have come back closer to the shelter given that the fight seems to be over, "All'a these bums have been too busy watching the fight to remember to call the cops. Hopefully the show is worth some donations. Hint! Hint!"
Croyd says, "Uh...I was just hungry man. Well, that and this guy just wanted to rob like...a homeless shelter. But I'm no Captain Ace or anything." He holds up his hands defensively as if somehow being a good guy might be unclean or something. At the request of donations, Croyd turns out his pockets and moths...literally, moths come out of his pockets. "I got nothin' man. Name's Croyd. Nice ta meet yas.""
157 slowly walks closer, now that the fight is over, and looks up at Quicksilver. "Yewie confirms story presented by Croyd," he says, in slow monotone. "Yewie has observed entire course of events. Unconscious persons approached during charity magic show and attempted to claim profits in compensation for previous eviction from premises on charges of criminal offense: drug-dealing." That manhole cover is still screaming through that portal loop at terminal velocity. "Unconscious persons are confirmed as 'bad guys' in present situation. Conscious participants confirmed as 'good guys'."
With a quick scan of the area, Quicksilver gets an address... and is gone with an explosion of wind to mark his departure. It takes upwards of twenty seconds for him to return, looking a bit more annoyed than when he left, "Cops. How difficult is 'We need a unit and an ambulance at blah blah wherever?' Not sure why I bothered, but.." He nods to Gabriel, "Looked like you were going to focus on the point of contacting them." To Croyd, "And you don't sound like you want to hang around to see them -- Don't worry, plenty of time." To 157... he pauses, frowns. Odd kid. "Ah. Thanks. I'm a neutral party."
PlasGabriel motions at the plate of shishkebabs, which has miraculously survived the fight, "Well, the 'kebabs are still there. Have at them." Before looking down at Yewie then over at the Portal'ed manhole cover then back at Yewie, "Hey kid? How about taking care of that thing before someone decides to see if its real and end up with one less hand?" And finally to Pietro he says, "Neat trick. But wouldn't a phone call save you some calories?"
Croyd grins at Quicksilver. See. This guy knows the drill. He waves and winks and then smiles at PlasGabriel,"You're alright man. That's two solids I owe ya." He then grabs the plate and begins munchin em as he walks off. He waves to 157 nonchalantly and then walks away contentedly.
157 looks over at the manhole cover, then back at Gabriel, and finally nods. "Affirmative." He looks back over at the manhole, and speaks rapidly again--more strange foreign words and mathematics--and the manhole falls into one portal, but the exit portal changes orientation, shooting it high up into the air instead of down. At the moment it reaches the very peak of its trajectory, the boy speaks rapidly once more, and a portal appears just underneath it, catching it just as it begins to fall. The exit? Right above the manhole it originally was taken from. It clatters on as though it fell from about six inches up. Not quite on properly, but at least it's not anymore damaged than it was from being used in the fight. That done, he looks to the departing Croyd, and waves a hand to near-mechanically wave in response. "Good-bye."
The speedster smirks faintly to Gabriel, "Not enough to make up for the boredom of waiting, talking to some dispatcher, answering questions..." He trails off and rolls his eyes, "Too many layers of incompetence to wait through." He looks back to 157, his eyes tracking the manhole cover, "Nice trick." He points a finger at it, glancing back to PlasGabriel, "That's the kind of thing that could've blindsided me back in my less capable days. Pietro Maximoff." He finally gives a name, taking a break from talking about how capable he is.
PlasGabriel watches Croyd walk away before thanking Yewie for taking care of the manhole cover. "Indeed, quite a nice little trick. And thank you for the help Mr. Maximoff. I'd introduce myself too but you probably won't see me looking like this again. And next time you see Platic Man it probably won't be me. Would you like something to eat, my treat? After all, the vendors have agreed to give 10% of their profits to the shelter..."
Indeed there are multiple food vendors in the area. Everything from hot dogs and hamburgers to shishkebabs and tacos.
"Yewie is awesome, if a little strange," 157 says, as emotionlessly as he's said everything else. He offers a small hand to Pietro. "Yewie greets Pietro Maximoff. Yewie is Yeweseisisel. Yewie has multiple alternate designations available but has been advised that providing list without request is considered 'weird.' Yewie will provide list upon request so Yewie will not seem weird." He looks over at Gabriel. "Yewie requires energy sources. Yewie will purchase hot dog." Why yes, he's looking at Gabriel like Gabriel will be retrieving said hot dog.
"Man of fluid identity, hm?" Pietro snorts lightly, "You'd be surprised how well I might relate to that." He takes a glance at the various food options and nods, "Definitely due for something. Ran from Ukraine this morning... Not many places to stop on the way without drowning." He does shake Yewie's offered small hand, seeming a bit fascinated, "Weird doesn't much worry me. Interesting -- Now that wins my favor. Weird is often interesting."
Well, someone's used to meta-humans. PlasGabriel takes the whole comment about running from Ukraine completely in stride then chuckles at Yewie's attitude. "Why don't you give Mr. Maximoff the list of designations while I go get food for people." Without waiting for Yewie's response he goes over to the food vendors and buys a little bit of everything. A few minutes later he comes back with tacos, shishkebabs, hot dogs, hamburgers, a couple of salads, and even some bags of chips. All carried on an arm that is suddenly its own food tray. "Have at it guys."
Oh dear. Someone actually requested it. Pietro may be in hell. 157 nods to Gabriel, turns to Pietro, and starts speaking. He always speaks quite slowly, incidentally...it's probably never more apparent than now. "Unit identification Yeweseisisel. English translation: One-Hundred and Fifty-Seven. This one will also respond to variants. Examples: One-Hundred Fifty Seven. One-Five-Seven. Hundred-Fifty-Seven. Yewie will also respond to identifications 'kid', 'kiddo', 'young man', 'sweetie','hun', 'Alan', 'Yewie', 'buddy', 'little one', 'number boy', and 'numberino'. Yewie will accept additional designations if requested." And then, Gabriel's back with the food, and he takes a hot dog from Gabriel, and produces a Velcro kid's wallet from his pocket. "Yewie will pay for hot dog. State price. Please."
Pietro is... not particularly patient as a rule. He gets to about the second variant of ways to say 157 before deciding he lacks interest in where this is going and turns his attention to food, "Kebab. Works." He has a kebab, now. He eats it, and makes his own bid for weirdest person in the room. Superspeed CHEWING is just strange to behold. "Well, would've been fun to show up a second or two earlier and get involved, here. But seems you and your associate handled it, after a fashion." Was that a compliment or a snub? It isn't an open insult, so Pietro's likely being diplomatic.
There's plenty weirdness to go around. PlasGabriel takes his share by doing a snake imitation, literally. He turns into a human sized snake, in the traditional Plasticman colors of red, black, yellow, and skin. Then he unhinges his jaw and swallows a couple of hamburgers whole, "So what brings you to the Big Apple all the way from Ukraine, Maximoff? And don't worry about it, kiddo, food is on me today."
On the bright side, 157 seems quite emotionless...so he doesn't take offense to Pietro looking for /anything/ else to focus on in the middle of his speech. "Understood," he says to Gabriel, and tucks the wallet away again, turning his attention to Pietro's answer while he starts to eat his hot dog. That's one area where 157 is normal compared to the others! Slow, but normal.
Quicksilver frowns for an almost embarrassingly long time (subjectively speaking). He folds his arms across his chest, "Thinking." He offers, then elaborates, "Suppose it does little harm to mention at this point -- My father is pressing a war. It's unlikely to end prettily. Just, many issues, moral quandary... FAMILY." He snorts and shakes his head rapidly, "Just wanted some space to think things over. Wide open expanses are good for that, hence the Atlantic."
PlasGabriel stops mid swallow to just stare at Quicksilver. After a few seconds he finishes what he was doing and then says, "You're Magneto's son? I was at Genosha recently, with the Justice League... It was an interesting set-up. Can't say I've kept up with the political intricacies of the whole situation since then..."
"Yewie has been following situation," 157 says. "Situation is extremely complicated and holds high potential to become extremely dangerous situation which could draw in many nations not presently involved in conflict. Situation could change to open warfare, potentially leading to global war, with very minor push. High potential for effective propaganda or other influence operations." He looks to Quicksilver. "Yewie's priority observation targets include major global events. Yewie wishes to speak with Magneto in support of studies of major global events surrounding Genosha. However, Magneto has previously expressed interest in giving answers only under principle quid pro quo. Desired exchange is something Yewie is not authorized to give. Would Pietro Maximoff be able to convince Magneto to meet with Yewie and discuss situation, or would Pietro be willing to meet with Yewie and discuss situation himself?"
Maximoff holds his hands to his sides and executes a bow. It's slightly mocking. Pietro Maximoff Syndrome, can't even act deferential without seeming arrogant. "I am the Son of Magneto." He gives his head a shake, "It's complicated, obviously, otherwise I wouldn't have to actively TAKE time to think about it. No conclusions arrived at, as of yet." He tilts his head at Yewie, listening despite the pace and verbosity, "Unlikely. Generally, anything beginning with 'Would Pietro Maximoff be able to convince Magneto...' will have a similiar answer."
PlasGabriel looks between 157 and Pietro as they talk then realizes the sun is getting low in the sky. And he also notices that sirens are now audible in the distance. With a wide smile he claps Pietro on the shoulder and says, "Well, I hope the run helps you come to the best possible conclusions. Preferably one that won't lead to World War III." By the time he finishes his little speech his form melts away, turning into a man sized golden amoeba. Which isn't there for long because a second or two there's another Pietro at the table. "But, the cops are almost here and I have an appointment I can't be late for. Later." Papers, plates, and multiple other pieces of small debris fly into the air as he just disappears in a blur of speed.
"Understood," 157 says. "Yewie will not ask Pietro Maximoff to convince Magneto of anything as tactic has low probability of success in any possible situation. Pietro Maximoff useless with regard to diplomatic relations with father, Magneto." He takes a few steps back from Pietro, looking over at Gabriel speeds outta there, and then returns his attention to Pietro. "Yewie will move to alternative observation point in order to observe police procedures. Good-bye." With that, he speaks rapidly again, and a new portal flashes into existence, an exit on a rooftop above. He stuffs the big atlas he's been carrying in the book bag nearby, zips it up, and with effort puts it on his shoulders and stands, then steps through the portal, letting it vanish behind him. The officers can more than likely look forward to him observing their methods quietly for a few minutes, then possibly questioning them incessantly if they do anything that seems remotely in need of further investigation.
Quicksilver stands for a few moments, watching the police response begin to arrive. That's pretty much the brunt of it. 'Pietro Maximoff useless with regard to diplomatic relations with father, Magneto', indeed. An officer, having seen too many buddy cop flicks, takes aim at the Costumed Weirdo who happens to be standing next to the fallen 'Victim', and shouts an entirely uncreative, "Freeze!!" 
Maximoff smirks, "Oh, please." There is a rush of air and a blur, and the officer finds his sidearm returned to its holster. Pietro pats him quickly on the shoulder, "Another time, maybe." And is gone.
Category:Log