11831/Buster visits the Genoshan Embassy.

Buster visits the Genoshan Embassy.
Date of Scene:	30 June 2022
Location:	Genoshan Embassy
Synopsis:	No description
Cast of Characters:	Cheyenne Brawley, Lorna Dane, Tom McCarthy

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Cheyenne Brawley has posed:
     A little mutant, about three feet tall with scaly green skin and patches of hair, ambles into the embassy with a limping gait. Behind him strides a young man dressed in an all-black, three-piece suit and a tattered ballcap; he clops across the tile floor in his cowboy bootheelss, marveling as he looks around. "Thanks for showing me the way, Lue - you know more shortcuts than anybody," he says, semi-kneeling to give the little guy a hug. "Any time, pal," says the scaly fellow in a thick Brooklyn accent, grinning from furry ear to furry ear. He waves, and makes his way back the way he came.

Lorna Dane has posed:
There was a decent crowd in the rec room portion of the embassy today: It was a warm enough day outside that air conditioning was a relief to many, and several were either playing games or camped out on the couch by the big screen watching some game, somewhere.

Lorna didn't pay it much mind as she busied herself with small work items she could do just about anywhere at the desk she'd set up against one wall, facing outward, so she could see the comings and goings of everyone. There were also a few guards/embassy staff either milling around or chatting with the kids and each other. While it was always 'on full guard while the Queen was in residence' that didn't mean they weren't used to this routine by now. She spent at least a few days a week here on the regular.

Hearing the newcomers arrive her gaze lifts away from the laptop she was working on to glance toward the pair with a little smile at the exchange of hugs. Something like that was always good to see, especially among those that didn't seem to fit in the 'norm' of how they appeared. So often they were swept to the side by society after all.

"Welcome to the embassy," greets one of the staff who steps forward from the doorway with a smile. "How can we help you today?" She was a bit lanky and tall, and from the looks of it her jaw didn't hinge QUITE right when she spoke. It seemed almost too loose, yet she manages to be understood easily.

Cheyenne Brawley has posed:
     Even in a room full of unique people, green hair is not easily overlooked, and when the Texan spiesLorna from a distance, he freezes. Buster's eyes are as big as saucers, mouth hanged slightly open; he swallows hard in a dry throat. On instinct, he whips off his ballcap and ruffles his curls. But the staffmember jolts him from his stupor.
     "I'm starting a new business here in Bushwick," he says, "called Mutant Works - an employment agency for folks like us. I was hoping, uh, y'all Genoshans might be interested in participating, either as a hiring entity, or a contact points for mutants to get started, or both." He punctuates the statement an emphatic, hopeful nod.

Lorna Dane has posed:
The woman watches Cheyenne and his reaction to Lorna with thinly veiled amusement. "Of course, that sounds like an excellent thing to discuss. Please, feel free to visit Queen Dane to discuss it." Looking over the two lock gazes a moment, potentially transfering some vital knowledge silently. Either telepathy or really, really good radios.

Lorna nods a single time offering another smile toward the apparently nervous man. Rising from her desk she lets her fingertips lightly linger on the surface as she stands and gestures to a seat across from her. "Please, join me. Would you care for anything to drink? The coffee is single origin from Genosha's mountains. We're rather proud of the blend." The closer he got the easier it was to smell the coffee, too, as it appeared to be a fresh pot brewing not far away. "Or there's soda or the like as well," she assures trying not to pressure him on it either way.

Cheyenne Brawley has posed:
     "Well ma'am, I caint so no to that," says Buster, voice slightly wistful, "a coffee of cup would be just -wonderful-..." He draws the word out with rapt attention on Lorna's face, pupils dilated. "Uh, I mean a cup of coffee." He clears his throat and smooths the lapels of his jacket, clearly trying, and failing, to embody the height of formality as he perches on the edge of the offered seat, legs crossed at the knee in the European style.

Lorna Dane has posed:
Lorna Dane sinks back into her seat comfortably once he's taken a seat himself across from her. "Of course. May I ask your name, sir? Lita informs me you're interested in developing a mutant staffing business of some sort, if I got the gist of the situation?" Even as she asks her eyes shift over to the coffee machine. It was state of the art with an espresso shot pull and everything. Which meant one important thing: It was all metal.

The metal caraffe lifts to float to a metal camping style mug to pour the steaming beverage, then returns. Then the mug floats over toward Cheyenne. A small expenditure of power, and used in this method it may seem more like telekinesis rather than magnetism. She so rarely got to use it these days though--Practice never hurt in any form.

Cheyenne Brawley has posed:
     "Cheyenne..." says the man, eyes wide with a huge smile forming on his face, as he watches the metallic objects levitate with a life of their own, "Brawley." He gazes into Lorna's eyes and blinks a few times. "But everybody calls me Buster." He low-coughs a few times and clears his throat, obviously dry, wetting his whistle with a long drought of coffee. "Delicious;" he pronounces brightly, "tastes like I just found my new favorite brand of Arbuckle's." The young man straightens in his chair and recovers his poise. "You have the right of it. I want to help help the folk of Mutant Town - or, well, that is to say Bushwick - find gainful employment with companies around the city that don't mind working with folks a little differnt." He nods sagely, coffee resting delicately on one knee, adding: "And your name, ma'am?"

Lorna Dane has posed:
Lorna Dane sits at her usual chosen desk across from Cheyenne at the moment listening to the beginning of his spiel with amusement and interest. Interest at the topic, amusement because of his reactions to, well, everything. She leans back into the executive chair lacing her fingers together with hands steepled in front of her in a posture that's at once attentive and casual.

"Lorna Dane, Queen of Genosha," she introduces even though it was perhaps obvious by his rather nervous nature that he already knew who she was. It was only polite to return the favor. "I'm quite interested in hearing more of this. Looking for ways to improve life for mutantkind is one of our primary goals. While for some it's joining us in Genosha for a fresh start, for many more--" a gesture is given to the filled rec room areas. "This is and always will be their home."

Tom McCarthy has posed:
Tom had become a rather familiar face around the Embassy, for any number of reasons. Well, one really. Either way, he offered a nod to the staff on duty. "Is she free?" He asks, carrying a cardboard box full of Chinese takeout, fresh as he could manage! It wasn't far from the restaraunt, so it mean he hoofed it.

Getting a nod from the woman who'd directed Cheyenne, as she takes a carton for herself, he moves towards where the Queen and her conversation partner are. A friendly smile, and the food is set down on the desk. Even so, plates and eating implements are brought over - it's good to be the Queen.

Cheyenne Brawley has posed:
     Buster pops in his chair like a startled prairie dog, causing it to slide back a few inches, so that, rather than plopping back into his seat at the end of his downward descent, he instead finds himself on the floor - with a cup full of coffee in his lap. "Ah... hot damn," he mutters under his breath, abruptly standing. "Queen Lorna Dane," he repeats, "wow, I'm sorry ma'am, I mean Your Grace, I mean Your Highness, I mean Your Excellency," he rambles on, wiping invisible coffee stains from his black trousers, "I really shouldn't be wasting you're time with my piddly little ol' project." He looks up and glances around, color drained from his face, "AND you're fixin' to eat." He snatches his cap off his head and rotates it in his hands, shuffling uncomfortably, though offering a polite nod of greeting to Tom. "I'll go ahead and get out of you're hair," he says, in that moment looking to the woman's emarald locks and pausing for a few pounding heartbeats, head tilted to the side, "ma'am. I mean Your Majesty."

Lorna Dane has posed:
Lorna Dane gives a rather warm laugh at the sudden stammering. Usually she wasn't overly fond of the way everyone on Genosha seemed to revere her--but they usually did it as if she were some kind of goddess or the like. This nervous energy was almost refreshing even if she were letting it go on just a bit too long. "Just Lorna is fine," she assures with a wave of her hand dismissing the concerns. "I come here several times a week so that people can see I'm not some giant boogey-man like my father often comes off." A pause before she corrects, "Boogey-woman. And it's a good topic. I may pass it on to others to work with further but I *do* take an active role in as much as I can. I'd get bored otherwise," she jokes. "As for eating, feel free to join us," she suggests. "I'm well accustomed to a working meal."

Even so she does pause to tip her head up toward Tom while he sets out the various dishes of Chinese. Once his hands are free from any possible spillage she reaches out to snag hold of his tie. Gently tugging him down she presses a slow kiss to his lips before releasing him again with a playful wink. "Thank you, dear. This is Cheyenne, or Buster. He's got some plans for helping to find mutants jobs. Cheyenne, this is Tom."

Tom McCarthy has posed:
There's no comment from Tom, regarding Cheyenne's nervousness - it happened to him, after all. The food is set out, the box set to the side. Just in time for Lorna to take his tie and pull him in for a kiss. PDA! He smirks after, nodding to her. "You are very welcome." Tom chuckles, before looking to Cheyenne.

A hand is offered over, to shake. "Tom McCarthy. Pleased to meet you, Cheyenne. Feel free to dig in, there's plenty - people come by and gnosh all the time."

Cheyenne Brawley has posed:
     Wincing as the legs of the chair squeak on the now wet tile floor, Buster, his back having been turned while the two kissed, wheels about in time to see Tom's hand extended, which he accepts and shakes - not so hard as to make it a contest of strength, but in a pleasantly firm way. "Nice to meet you, sir," he says with a toothy grin, reaching to tug as the point of his beard as he returns to his chair. He eyes the Chinese, one hand pressed to his belly, "I suppose it'd be impolite to refuse."
     The Texan rewinds ger words in his mind, puzzling quietly. "Well, Lorna," he is clearly still a little uncomfortable addressing her by her first name, "whoever your pappy is, I sure never took you for no boogey-nothin'. If I hear anybody say otherwise, I'll let 'em know right quick."
     He stands again, looking for something to do to be useful, parsing out plates and napkins or something, adding: "But speakin' of trouble, I'm afraid my project already has an enemy. See, the other day I threw a little get-together with some folk from Mutant Town to break the ice - some of my mutant friends showed up from all over town, including Robert Marksman and the cutest lil' ol' gal, Gabby - anyway, some rascal set fire to the building. Didn't cause too much harm," he sighs, "but, I take it as a sign of things to come."

Lorna Dane has posed:
Lorna Dane simply stops at that. Just outright STOPS to stare openly at Cheyenne though it has nothing to do with him getting food, or even trying to dry himself off from spilling the coffee. Another worker does come by to offer him a tea towel to dry off though as well as assuring quickly that the spill would be dealt with.

"I'm sorry... Did you say you don't know who my father is?" Lorna sounds rather incredulous at that as she spares a glance toward Tom with the corners of her lips quirking. "Ahm. I'm sorry you caught me a bit off-guard. I suppose if you don't know much of Genosha's history that makes sense." Lightly clearing her throat she reaches for chopsticks to stir up some chow mein noodles getting all the sauce spread out properly on the plate where a bit had been dished out. "My father is Magneto."

A single nod comes as she thinks on what else she's told about the project with a thoughtful hum. "That's unfortunate. I'm familiar with both Mr. Marko and Ms. Kinney though I've not seen the latter in a few years. She always was cute though." A glance is offered to Tom, "Think we ought to look into that fire, I would think. If The Brotherhood hasn't already of course." Likely they had.

Tom McCarthy has posed:
The shake of hands to Cheyenne is friendly and firm, no test of strength from Tom in the least. "Enjoy." He offers again, motioning to the food. Once Lorna has her plate settled, he starts working on his - dishing out a bit of everything. So many flavors to work with, after all!

Once his plate is settled, he finds himself a seat and some chopsticks, listening to the trouble that happened at the meet-and-greet. A shake of his head, the man sighing. "Someone always wants to spoil things for everyone else." He comments, with a sigh. "I can start doing a bit of digging, if you like Lorna?" He suggests. "I'll see if we got any intel on it, or tips."

Cheyenne Brawley has posed:
     Buster listens with rapt attention as Lorna explains her background. "Mosquito?" he mumbles to himself, scarcely a whisper. "Magnifico? No..." He purses his lips and shrugs, dropping the subject. No doubt, he's never heard of the Master of Magnetism. When the towel his brought, he gratefully accepts it, and uses it to wipe his clothing dry. He also lifts his chair and steps aside so the spilled coffee can be mopped up; he seems most remorseful about that, shamed by wasting such a delicious brew, delivered to him in so special a way. When that business is done, he returns the chair and takes his own turn dishing up a plate.
     "Wasn't my first time dealing with a bunch of bullcorn at the job site, either. About a couple weeks ago, Bane showed up with a posse of hoodlums; they shot the place up and tried to impose a curfew on everybody. Boy, I tell you what... Cain - I like to call him Tiny - handled him just like that," he says, making a flicking motion with an index finger. "I managed to scrape up a small sample of ol' boy's green goo and took it to a doctor uptown to analyse; a feller by the name of Richard Stadler."
     When the Texan returns to his seat, he adds with a bit of chagrin: "But enough about me." He looks to The Queen and swoons slightly, absent-mindedly twirling stir-fried noodles around a plastic fork, "What's going on around here?"

Lorna Dane has posed:
Lorna Dane merely stares at Cheyenne. How could he not have...? But perhaps he didn't. Somehow. Most people knew her father and either hated him, feared him, or loved him. Or some mix of all. The thought is shaken aside with a little grin as she settles in to take up a dainty bite of her food. Usually she would just shovel it in but she's trying to work on the Queenly image in front of a newly met person.

"That would be fantastic Tom, thank you. I'll check on my end of things as well but you're likely more capable of finding intel on some of the groups that like to cause trouble here."

"Well, a number of things. One of my subordinates and friends, Clarice, hsa been successfully spearheading a mutant based Big Brother program which aids to help those younger mutants that are either displaced due to family troubles, or other issues. There's a large number of orphans in Genosha sadly due to attacks and similar issues awhile back. They're making great strides."

"We've also got some arts and humanities programs ongoing to introduce the community to more cultural aspects. Concerts, and the like." She glances over to Tom considering with a frown. "Ah, and the upcoming memorial event for those lost. That's still in the works but none the less necessary."

Tom McCarthy has posed:
As the memorial is mentioned, Tom goes quiet for a moment - showing respect for people lost. A nod after that, glancing over at Cheyenne. "All sorts of things going on - especially around the embassy. Plenty of things to get involved in, good and ... well, things needing done." A smile.

A look to Lorna, grinning as she daintily works on her food. A silent chuckle, knowing how she enjoys her food. "Concerts are how I met Lorna. Well, at least the aftermath of the concert."

Cheyenne Brawley has posed:
     The Texan perks up, "If there's anything I can do to help, all you have to do is holler at me." Clearly clueless about the need for a memorial, as well, he lets the subject slide so as not to make anyone uncomfortable. He takes a bite of food of his own, considers it for a moment, then proceeds. "Maybe I can help the kiddos find good homes. And that could be wrapped into Mutant Works somehow. Dangit, the project might need a new name, though." He looks to Tom and adds, "Are you one of her M... I mean Lorna's guards, or something?"

Lorna Dane has posed:
"Absolutely. And I'm interested in lending support to your idea as well. It soundds like good work after all," she admits. Lorna tucks into her food a bit more only for a phone to go off causing her to pause and dab at her mouth with a napkin. "Pardon--Time for the update on what I'm missing while in this timezone."