11458/Hairy and Harry

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Hairy and Harry
Date of Scene: 04 June 2022
Location: Harry's Hideaway (Bar)
Synopsis: No description
Cast of Characters: Henry McCoy, Terry O'Neil, Julia Pennyworth




Henry McCoy has posed:
Henry McCoy is taking a moment of relaxation, casually settling into a large leather chair near the bar, set up at one of the standard tables. He has a chess set there and is casually flicking pieces over it, manipulating both sides, playing himself as is often his wont. He doesn't mind playing others, of course, but finds that egos tend to take badly to being so obviously overmatched by the furry man with the toothy grin and so he tends to avoid direct competition outside of the grandmaster class.

he wears a suit that has been made casual, tie undone, buttons opened to show a thick tuft of blue hair that matches teh fur on the rest of him. A large mug of hard cider sits nearby, although he is no longer allowed the pipe he once indulged. Probably for the best. "I recall, longingly, a time upon which I was quite the pool sharp, accustomed to fleecing tourists of their extra dollars in order to fund my weekend experiments. However, I suppose my remarkable physicality provides an unfair advantage - not to mention that many fine establishments frown upon playing billiards with one's toes."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Harry's is not a place The Cheshire Cat frequents often- and that is sad, because it is a fine and private place, however unintentionally lugubrious that literary allusion might be. He does, however, come by on the rare occasion to sample some of those burgers again- something he discovered during his brief stint helping Xavier's school during that unfortunate Shi'ar invasion.

Alien invasions got to be a rather frequent thing, last summer. It must have been something in the water.

Burger safe in hand, with a plate to catch any stray drippings or crumbs, Vorpal settles in to taste, his sensitive ears picking up on Doctor McCoy's ruminations of the past. Having taken care of the first bite, he leans over from his perch- the armchair of a comfy chair, because no cat usually sits /on/ the chair proper unless someone else is intending to use that space- and adds, by way of commentary:

"I dare say I have never been quite good at pool myself- I often find myself out of my depth and fail to make a splash, often sinking rather pathetically." The trademark Cheshire grin pops up, fresh out of the Carrol books. He hasn't changed out of his 'hero' uniform, a simple black spandex number with the Cheshire grin emblazoned in white across the chest, merely because hunger was more powerful than convenience. And he is still technically 'on call' at the tower. "I hope you don't mind if I sit nearby. I couldn't help but hear, and I believe I saw you back at the school..." he tilts his head, "Albeit it was a little too hectic for formal introductions. And afterwards I was rather inconvenienced." By way of a hole blasted on his stomach, that is.

Julia Pennyworth has posed:
Even as the two feline-esque individuals introduce themselves over drink, game and food, the door opens from outside once again letting in just a small gust of wind before it swings shut behind the helmeted woman that steps inside. Julia's hands are already raised to fumble with the release to her helmet, muttering a few choice words at her drive-chilled fingers not wanting to work properly to unbuckle it. That was the downside to riding at times. Finally she manages to get the latch to unclip allowing her to lift the helmet off with a deeply drawn breath of, presumably, fresher air.

"Got to get that fixed," she utters aloud as a reminder to herself once again. The helmet is thumped down on the bar as she pauses to glance around and it's only when spotting the pair already here that she realizes she's not in Kansas anymore. Or, in her case, not in England. It's all taken in stride, and she flashes a grin to Harry behind the bar.

"Pint of cider if y'got it, please. And some of those chip... fries. Fries," she adds with a little inward sigh as her eyes shut to remind herself once again of the Americanisms. "Going on a long shot to guess there's no malt vinegar around here for them, though."

Henry McCoy has posed:
"On the contrary. We have enough European expats that the bar here has stocked such for just such occasions. Welcome to our strange colonial shores, madame," Hank calls out, raising his own cider in greeting.

To Terry, he gives a bemused chuckle, 'Far be it for me to dictate locales to anyone. Whatever repiste your limbs require for the proper repose, I would suggest you are more than welcome to them. I am pleased to have another of the pelted set on-hand, if only so I don't take all the blame for any hairballs," he says. "And yes, I'm on staff with the local school. You seem a bit mature for enrollment."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Terry chuckles, "You are correct, I am either too old, or I have been held back a /lot/. But no, I never went to the school as a student per se... I only came to provide assistance when you got attacked." He offers a hand, "I'm Terry O'Neil-- Vorpal of the Titans. And also of the Daily Planet." Terry was the first superhero to have gone public while working at such a publication. It caused something of a commotion, and many questions about how the waters could muddy when one reports a story while being part of the story. The usual minefield. "Of course, you need no introduction, Doctor McCoy. I was a big fan of yours during your stint in the Avengers... although, between us, I think they will be able to tell which furballs belong to whom..." he nods towards Beast's very blue body, whereas his is ginger and red.

He turns in Julia's direction and raises his eyebrows, "Malt Vinegar. Now, doesn't that sound interesting? I must try it next year, when I am 'of age'..." he uses air quotes. Literally. The image of quotation marks hover around him for a few seconds before they dissipate, "Although in Wonderland there is no drinking age," he comments, "Reason being, that there is no argument for 'being of age of reason', as there is no reason there." He chomps on his hamburger.

Julia Pennyworth has posed:
"Oh thank god, I've been having bloody withdrawls," Julia offers over toward Hank at his suggestion that yes, such a treat can be found here. Grinning in his direction she offers a tip of her head before recalling to sweep a hand through her short hair so it isn't entirely helmet smooshed. Being around two people who had far more hair than she did made her recall to take care of what she DID have.

"The malt vinegar's not for drinking, it's for drizzling on your 'fries' before you dip it into ketchup. You can try it right now if you want." A quick dip of her hand into her pocket offers the money necessary for her order over to Harry who has already got her pint poured. "Cheers."

The pint is scooped up for a good long sip that helps chase away the dust of the road. Turning around she steps over to where the other two are. "Mind a third? Drinking's always best with a few mates around. I'm Julia Pennyworth, newly expat as suspected."

Henry McCoy has posed:
Henry McCoy smiles and inclines his head to Julia, "Dr. Henry McCoy, Hank to you, although I also answer to the ruffian's sobriquet of The Beast. Fearsome, I know, try not to be overwhelmed with terror at my presence," he says with a twinkle in his eye.

"I still am technically associated with the Avengers, albeit in a reserve capacity. I value my time among them greatly and still have friends among their number. As I grow older, I find I do the most good in a laboratory or behind a computer, rather than out in the field throwing roundhouses, but I do get an itch for action every now and again, when there is a miscreant in urgent needs of a pummeling."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Do drop in, the more the merrier... and I can try it out now? Oh, indeed? Then I must try it at once!" the Cheshire reaches in front of him and one of his famed Rabbit Holes appears, leading straight to the bar. "I'll just borrow this for a second!" he tells the tender, and secures the bottle. After removing the cap, he-

Glub glub glub.

Taking a generous swig from the bottle, the feline hmms, ands swishes from cheek to cheek like the world's furriest sommelier tasting a new harvest for his employer's table. After a few seconds, he swallows and hmms. "A subcon of lemon, a dash of nuttiness and the after-taste of burnt caramel. I dare say this is better than the time I had that wasabi sandwich... admittedly, mostly because with this, I can actually still /taste/ after imbibing it."

Setting the bottle down by his side, he returns to his burger, "Every day one discovers a new flavor." Peering over at Henry, he comments, "If you ever do get the itch, Doctor McCoy, maybe you should consider teaching me some lessons? I am still a relative greenhorn and I would value your experience in the field a lot. I have already received some lessons in acrobatics and gymnastics from Herr Wagner," he adds, taking a bite of his hamburger, "If you'd consider teaching this rookie a thing or two about pummeling miscreants, I'd be more than happy to let you run scientific tests on my space-warping abilities. My friend Nadia Pym says I should always offer that as currency because scientists are always in need of guinea pigs." A pause. "Or Cheshire Cats. I guess."

He glances at Julia and offers his hand, "And I'm Terry O'Neil. Or Vorpal. I answer to both, but never to 'you damn cat' no matter how much Robin will tell you that's my name. Wherefore in the fair Kingdom do you hail from?"

Julia Pennyworth has posed:
"A pleasure, Doc. Hank," Julia corrects herself opting for that instead of just calling him 'Doc' like some cartoon rabbit with a penchant for crossdressing. "If we're going nicknames I'm often called 'Jules'--No relation to the author. More due to a little electrical knowledge I've used in the field on occasion." A grin is given as she listens to the pair of out-heroes chat and drop names, taking it all in stride.

At least until Vorpal goes ahead and chugs the vinegar straight. Her cider is drawn up to take a drink which she holds off on while just staring openly at Terry with a skeptical expression. Yet she's waiting to see his reaction to it all. When he manages to gulp it down without much issue, she just lets out a soft 'huh' and shakes her head. The offered hand is taken to shake firmly. "Hell, got the guts, literally, to drink that without issue then I can respect that. I try to take what little birds tell me with a grain of salt," she adds in reference to whatever Robin might say.

Settling into a seat herself she lets her legs stretch out with ankles crossing. "London originally. Spent some time in Her Majesty's service, and now I'm visiting some family in the states. The weather was getting pleasant so it seemed a good idea for a little cycle vacation."

Henry McCoy has posed:
Henry McCoy laughs softly, "I accept Doc most happily, as well, from wascally wabbits and lovely young ladies alike," he says.

"I would be more than happy to provide a demonstration of my pugilistic expertise, although I daresay my good Herr Wagner might be the best suited to your particular style, from what I can recall of footage of you in action from the newsreels. I do on occasion manage to keep up with the world beyond the walls of my lab," he says.

He takes a long sip of cider, "Her Majesty's? Oh dear, now I cannot help but think of a different kind of Avengrs altogether. You'd make a cunning Emma Peel, I daresay, Jules."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Don't be so certain, Doctor. There's been a couple of times where I've been pinned down and haven't been able to rely on my mobility or my magic and pugilism would have served me just fine." He raises an eyebrow, "But now I am dreadfully embarrassed about what amateurish piece of performance you might have seen in the news. I've gotten better since ... whatever it was that you saw. Probably." He shrugs, "I'm still a work in progress, but at least now I manage not to get injured as much as I used to."

That's a point of pride, right? "Her Majesty's service... my. I've never been to London- the closest I've been is Headington, when I first 'manifested' and was trying to find the Rabbit Hole to Wonderland which is supposed to be there... I bet you must have a lot of interesting stories!" He takes another swig from the vinegar. "Although whether you can speak about them or not must be another matter. But- impressive!" He raises his eyebrows, "... while visiting family, if you think you might have something or other in survival skills to teach a rookie superhero with more chutzpah than common sense, I would gladly trade my mother's world-famous Tiramisu for whatever training."

He turns to Hank, "Wasn't it Epictetus who said that in order to improve, you had to be comfortable with looking foolish? Well, I am very much a fool and eager to learn from the greatly experienced." Another bite from his hamburger, which is starting to look small, "And I am not above bribing with food or scientific experiments to get knowledge!"

Julia Pennyworth has posed:
"Well I'd prefer to think I'm more on the young lady end of that and not the lagomorph end of things," Julia quips back with a quick and easy grin, along with a wink, tossed to Hank. "Good to know though."

Terry's remark of what she could or couldn't speak about is answered with a simple lift of her hand to waggle side to side, like the wings of a plane seeking stabilization. She would speak aloud but she's already taking a long gulp of her cider before setting it back down once more. "Ah, yeah there's a bit there, most of it long and boring. But here I am in one peice so I can't really complain at all about it, either. I could teach you a thing or two, sure. I'm used to being underestimated for my size."