1459/Hans, We're In Amerika!

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Hans, We're In Amerika!
Date of Scene: 30 April 2020
Location: Empire State Building
Synopsis: A Nazi rally featuring actual Nazis earns limited sympathy from SHIELD, aka, the Nazi-scum-defeating agency.
Cast of Characters: Jane Foster, Achilles, Jessica Drew, Dane Whitman, Daisy Johnson

Jane Foster has posed:
It's mid-afternoon in Manhattan when the calls go up. New Yorkers are a hardy bunch who barely blink when a catastrophe hits, like a giant spaceship ramming into inner Hudson Sound or "other" problems happen. People go about their lives. They tramp in front of the tangle of shops hawking commercial goods under the shadow of one of the city's greatest landmarks, since eclipsed by other great buildings. The good ol' Empire State Building looms ahead of buses choked up on the bus lane, and traffic snarled for a half mile down West 34th.

The causes are twofold, and enough to really piss off the average denizen of the city. Any resident here more than ten days learns to /loathe/ them.

Tourists. Protestors. Nazis. Roughly in that order. The protest happening up ahead *probably* includes all three, since there are an awful lot of people toting handmade signs, wearing stupid brown uniforms, goose-stepping it to the charms of celebratory music pumped out of handheld speakers. The protestors march up the middle of the street and wave their signs around. Banners in red and black sway back and forth from a few brave souls... Deep in the crowd, mind you, a straggling crowd of people mostly white, mostly under fifty, mostly getting in the way.

"Protect our rights" and other ludicrous right-wing chants are hurled in the faces of people trying to cross the street, drive around them, get places. Hoots and shouts come right back. There's about a hundred people blocking the way, making noise, being troublesome. Mostly, they're in the way.

"Hans!" snaps a gentleman currently ahead of this pack. Heinrich is just being cool, leaning against a car. Totally leaning in his great brown overcoat, not quite seasonable for spring. The blond man he's talking to is watching the march with interest. They're about a block up, and he is currently breaking into a 1960 Porsche. Two-seater, definitely a hot ticket item. "Look, isn't it beautiful? Everything you could ever wish? It will be the sign of a new era! The president will see reason, for his people's will is manifest. If only they had learned sooner."

All in German, mind.

Achilles has posed:
    Nevermind the fact that Achilles, aka Angelo Tampambulos basically -just- refused to give out information over the phone to a SHIELD agent because... anyone can claim to be anyone on the phone. But he got on the Hyperloop and raced towards New York City.
    On the way, he texted Jessica Drew and informed her that he was arriving in NYC soon and that he needed to speak with her about some organization by the name of SHIELD.
    But he steps out of the station and into... chaos. German? He hasn't heard that language in a while. But Nazi symbols?
    He rolls his eyes and despite being a muscular blonde man who might be just a bit darker of skin than the flawless Aryan ideal... But as he strides forward, it turns out he ends up basically.. right between both groups of protestors.
    His eyes flicker upwards and narrow. His thoughts flit upwards to his... well ancestors . . o o O O (Cute. Very cute.) he thinks before in his expensive business suit, he lifts both hands slowly, backing away and trying to avoid getting himself into even more trouble yet. He just hopes that Jessica is not in the middle of the mess, caught up in the trouble. Maybe I came out the wrong exit.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Impatient with being blocked by what she hopes is an impromptu protest, Jessica fumes and looks at her watch then up at the side of a building. Spidering over buildings in broad daylight in street clothes poses a problem. Not for the first time Jessica looks down at her rather chic ensemble and wishes for a phone booth or short of that a photo booth since booths have been phased out all over the city.

The snarl of people drives her against a building where she pulls out her phone to text Achilles, <Caught in some weirdness on 34th. Meet you at Empire State? People look like.... Hell. Nazis.> She stops and sends and then appends another message. <Really. Crazy!>

Dane Whitman has posed:
Oh hey look, an opportunity to see how a trainee operates in a crowd. Thankful most of his classes are in the morning, Dane Whitman is now on the scene, leaning against a patch of wall just off the sidewalk and...watching for now. There wasn't exactly a lot of instruction as to what he was supposed to be doing here. Which he presumes is kind of the point. Still, this seems more like a job for the NYPD than anything else, on the surface, so naturally he presumes there's something else going on that he's just not privy to yet. So he subtly cues his communicator and broadcasts on SHIELD's secure general channel, "So, I guess I can understand why today of all days the local Nazis would be dumber than usual, but am I looking for anything in particular out here?"

Daisy Johnson has posed:
SHIELD did enjoy having people around to keep an eye out on these occasions. Of course that it normally tended to go to the trainees yet Daisy had taken the short straw this time. Ugh, she had to supervise.

But she also knew that normally the NYPD did take care of these events without a problem. So this might just go fine. Right? Right? Skipping the detail that today -is- a special day.

She taps into the comms, a nod, "For now we should keep an eye out for incidents that go beyond the scope of what the NYPD can handle. Better keep your ICERs ready just in case."

Sure, she had seen Dane going jedi a while back, no need for that today she hoped. So she was staying on a corner that leads towards where the mass of protesters and nazis are at, plain dressed in jeans, a jacket, her gloves hidden beneath the jacket.

Jane Foster has posed:
The protestors hurl invectives about "personal liberty" and "no more foreigners taking our jobs!" And "Purity for America! No mutants!" Some of those signs and flags feature eagles, a valknot, and a weird mash-up of stars, stripes, and death's-head skulls. They fan out enough to keep traffic from reaching the Herald Square subway station nearby. Anger is brewing along with curses and derisive hecklers. The protestors don't care.

Jane Foster has posed:
Hans, however, salutes neatly once. Across the street, five other arms go up. Halfway down the block, another six not so far from Jessica or Dane. They hold with a precise, almost military correctness, heels snapping together and backs straight in front of the crowd.

Heinrich finally finishes his work and hops into the unlocked Porsche. "Now is not the time. He will forgive us, but there is work to do!" he chastises the other man. "Get in!"

Hans obliges. The car starts up, engine revving. Heinrich, blond as California dreaming, sighs with pleasure, and tears out immediately into the street ahead of the crowd. Not like anyone else gets through, so he's kicking it into high gear while Hans stares back, wistful, at the retreating mass under the Empire State Building. "So, this is America."

Achilles has posed:
    Feeling the vibration of his watch, Achilles glances down and skims the text from Jessica. Then he activates his voice to text function and speaks to his bluetooth. The text that is sent to Jessica is as follows: Yes. I am aware. I happen to be caught in the middle of it. Idiots to the left. Dumbshits to the right. Here I am. Stuck in the middle ... oh skip it.
    Yes, he just paraphrased Bob Dylan to Jessica Drew in the middle of a Nazi Protest. If you can't paraphrase Bob Dylan then, when can you?
    Either way, he does his best to extricate himself without incident, at least somewhere nearby or some such. While looking for his friend.

Jessica Drew has posed:
    The phone Jessica just slipped back into her pocket gives her the SHIELD vibe. Still leaning against the building, she updates herself on current activity then adds herself into the current messages to both Dane and Daisy.

<<I'm right in the middle of it. OMW to meet a prospective. Can't believe this is happening. I have my eye on about a dozen doing the salute thing.>>

Looking up at the building wistfully Jessica forges into the crowd moving towards her meet with Achilles.

Dane Whitman has posed:
"They look like they've practiced that a lot." Dane replies with a more bitter edge to his voice than it normally carries. "Got eyes on about a half-dozen goose steppers in my vicinity. So far nothing too far o-" Dane cants his head as a car pulls out into the flow of protestors, "Well, aside from some guy in a Porsche pulling out in front of the protestors." THough truth be told, that doesn't strike Dane as all THAT off-the-wall...some people who own those kinds of cars act entitled like that. And even so it still looks like a job for the NYPD.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
"We will need eyes on that guy. Anyone can get an ID on those?" Quake says of Hans and Heinrich while they go about having so much 'fun' greeting the other skins. She shakes her head a bit to herself. She dislodges herself from the corner she was at, starting to approach.

"If this guy is the leader of a nazi cell we may be able to help the NYPD a bit by identifying the prick. I mean, the target." she says quietly, hand up on her ear while she talks, but then she is moving closer to Dane.

Jane Foster has posed:
The protest gets more lively with arms in the air. Shouts ricochet back and forth, music turned up from one guy in a cowboy hat and a white supremacist t-shirt holding onto his portable speaker. Out comes the triumphal music last played in early 1945, and barely even then. Picking up the pace, flags waved and signs jerking up and down, the group squeezes under the Empire State Building.

"Go home, you bloody racists," calls a heckler. Unfortunately for him, the smart blond man standing behind him with perfect form and correct angle mutters something. The pedestrian turns, adding, "What, you like this shi--"

The words never leave his mouth. A swift, smart punch from the smart blond connects with a staggering crack. Normally, a punch like that might send someone staggering a bit. Turn 'em a little. Not launch them halfway into the street and smashing into a cyclist following behind the movement with his phone up to capture the shaky recording. The two bodies collide, a bike goes flying into the air, and the jarring force of flesh hitting pavement is an unnatural percussion outside the tinny recording of a long-ago Nuremberg rally. Neither man gets up.

First blood. A dull grumble becomes a murmuring chorus, an /ugly/ chorus. Achilles ought to recognize it in a heartbeat. For Dane, a nail up the spine, the first transformation in play. Daisy surely feels the tremble in the masses, the patter of violence in the concrete. Jessica hears the horrified murmurs, the plans panning out, the 'fuck you, get him' and 'it's a neo-Nazi, your grandfather would've *shot* him. What are you doing?'

The mob takes its first breath, and knows rage.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Switching into voice mode, "I thought only BMWs did that. Same...whatever. I wondered what that was up ahead. If I could drive something like that if I would be such an A-hole?" Jessica smiles sardonically to herself keeping a wary eye out on the Brown Shirts who are very full of themselves and their salute.

A message pings in the midst of the salute, the smiles slides into something approaching happier at Achille's voice.

"I'm the good looking one in the red jacket, Achilles. Not saluting. Did you happen to see a Porsche peel out of here? Oh, shit, Achilles it's getting ugly."

Achilles has posed:
    "You all happen to be deluded racist pricks, but you -are- lawfully allowed to express that opinion!" calls ... Angelo, yeah, Angelo is his name. His voice accented with just the barest hint of an English accent. "This -is- America, is it not?!" he calls out as he merges with the crowd of protestors, "It would be wrong to try to suppress that right!" Yeah, he -is- trying to calm things down just a bit. To get people to stop and think it through mostly.
    His wrist vibrates again and he smirks. His green eyes come up to seek out the red jacket before lifting a hand in greeting. "I would -hate- to see them win by goading others into making them martyrs!" he adds.

Dane Whitman has posed:
"Agent Drew, you're probably our best bet for keeping eyes on the leaders. Be careful though, they might be enhanced. Or maybe just well-trained. Either way, if we wade in their we're going to get literally caught in the middle." He glances around, frowning, before he comments to Daisy, who's now conveniently in earshot. "Hey...pinch me if I'm completely off base, but...you see any police around here? Because I don't."

Despite his own earlier warning, he starts to move in the direction of the flashpoint, "We're gonna need to dump some cold water on this before it gets out of hand."

Jessica Drew has posed:
"Wonderful," she mutters to herself as she catches sight of Achilles up ahead. Unafraid despite the smell and sound of panic that rises from the crowd she pushes ahead, receiving an elbow in the side for her efforts.

Over Shield coms, "Copy that. There is a bicyclist down in the street. Caught the tail end of that. It's looking bad up here."

Raising her arm, "Angelo! Here!" She can hear his sonorous voice over the rising tide of voices around her.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
Yes, Daisy knows well those tell-tale signs of violence, the hum that goes through the crowd and that she so well perceives. It makes her close her eyes for a moment, shut out those rising emotions to act and be violent herself. "No, I see no police. Which means it's time to act." a nod given towards Dane at his suggestion to Drew, indeed she was the best to track down their leader. But then it's time to go and stop this. And even if she is here to supervise she -is- Daisy. Which means getting into danger is what she does.

"Careful with the big guy." that means Heinrich. And then she is rising up in the air to approach the scene from above... Maybe she is going for one of those Quake bombs..

Jane Foster has posed:
Indeed, there aren't any police. Well, one transit officer holed up in the Herald Square station ticketing people.

The Porsche is out of sight and the traffic lights up ahead blink brightly, governing cars, buses, and vans clotting the street in a long snake. One of the drivers pokes his head out and shouts, "Come on!" Horn honking lays into the agitation seething in the masses. "I gotta get my dog! Get outta the way!"

Several of those hailing soldiers step out of the way, and they sport smart green or black coats with insignia on the lapels. They fall in closer to the back half of the protesters, who are getting shoved and pushed inwards from very unhappy pedestrians. A few fisticuffs break out, and someone drags back the guy trying to punch someone with a flag. "C'mon, you can't just hit-- aw no." Cue the flag being used to jab the pair back onto the sidewalk, dodging behind a light pole for protection. Achilles' suggestions do seem to reach several in the mob, but there's always one who won't listen.

The one who won't listen. He goes after the guy in the funny 1940s pants. Little too authentic? But the first kick barely strikes before the SS man snatches him by the collar and hoists him up. Mr. Kicky's face slowly turns red, and his kicks don't seem to be /doing/ anything. Unless you're very keen of hearing and then... It sounds like radio static.

Achilles has posed:
    Narrowing his eyes, Achilles looks to Jessica and then pointedly towards the man being hoisted by his own petard. Or collar, or whatever. And then back to Jessica with a raised brow. The unspoken statement .... I cannot just stand idly by.
    That communication attempt made, the old soldier calls out, "STOP THIS! FOR YOUR OWN SAKES STOP THIS!" Even as he moves towards the guy holding the other guy up by the collar and / or neck. It's not like he has supernatural senses or.. well supernatural anything other than immortality.
    But he does have a lot of experience to call upon, and he steps up towards the Nazi hoisting the guy and does a step kick to the back of the Nazi's knee in an effort to bring him lower and to get the other guy down close enough to the ground that he won't be choking to death, "Let him go you facist bastard!" he growls out, "And you... cease this violence -now-!" he says to the guy who got himself hoisted. It really is a catch-22. Do something and incite the crowd. Stand idly by and watch the crowd go berserk.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Practice makes perfect. Jessica kicks off her flats and pokes them into her bag. Daisy rising above the crowd is her cue to drop any pretense of being normal. Motioning upwards to Achilles, the young woman leaps and clings to the side of the building behind Mr. Facist-in-Your-Face-Dig-These-Zoot-Suit-Pants angling for the fastest way to break his choke hold on the man being held from the ground. Something in the adamant disregard for everyone around him cues Jessica into thinking that a knock on the head won't do it.

With a push off of the building, she drops feet first onto crook of the Nazi's arm trying to cut off his attack on the unsuspecting man.

Dane Whitman has posed:
"Agent Johnson, it's looking like there might be some ringleaders near the back of the crowd, trying to add some fuel to the fire. Gonna try to make my way there." He tries to skirt the edges of the crowd, which may be easier said than done, but it's better than trying to make his way directly through it. It's a bit of a tight squeeze at points, but eventually he reaches the point where he can mock-stumble out in front of those green-and-black jacket-wearing fellows:

"Oh hey, sorry, am I interrupting your party?"

Daisy Johnson has posed:
"Let me know if you need backup.." Oh, who is she kidding? Daisy knows Sir Dane is a lot more than he looks! But then again so many people are. She was going to drop down right in the middle, near where the choking was going on. But when she spots both Drew and then a (supposedly) unknown man to her attempting an attack she diverts her flight. Aiming to land somewhat ahead.

Right in the middle of the maelstrom, allowing her quaking waves to expand, not enough to topple anyone down but just enough to let people be aware that she is here. More than she already did by flying in and landing.

"Step back and cease this hostility." she tells the crowd. Or well, those about her. Mostly trying to gain time until they can take down those people trying to rile up the two groups.

Jane Foster has posed:
The kick counts for something. A low sonic boom rakes out, almost inaudible to the average person. The SS soldier holding up the choking pedestrian turns a gimlet stare on Achilles, his expression a mask of anger and contempt, disgust thick on his voice. "But you attack," yes, he speaks English, if definitely accented, "when this man threatens a right to gather?" He'd spit out more but Jessica is on his arm and shoulder, and he surprisingly holds up rather well against that two-footed crash. But not for long.

Still, he drops the choking pedestrian with an involuntary graceless fling while stumbling back himself. A shove that incidentally sends the man sprawling with a groan of pain in the street, rag doll physics at play. Dane might just trip over him for real, but not the quartet of SS soldiers guarding the back. One actually reaches out to steady him. Nice, right?

"Go tell your president the will of the people," suggests the soldier in more accented English. His tone is brisk as he prepares to move on. Clearly Achilles /was/ heard. Or Dane is a bit too civilised. Or they're itching for a fight to blame on the dumb American. Clearly they didn't see their buddy get poleaxed by Jessica and Achilles. Jerks! But they're turning to those wobbly shakes.

"Listen to that woman!" shouts another soldier. The protestors aren't sure, but boy, those Nazis are. "Stay back and let them pass! She has honour."

"A good wife," mutters someone who is so getting gut-punched. He just doesn't know it yet.

Achilles has posed:
    Stepping back away from the big Nazi, Achilles shakes his fiit out a bit. "Now that's not normal." he mutters to Jessica. "The fact that this man.." he gestures to the guy who originally tried to kick and got yoinked, "is an idiot doesn't change the fact that he doesn't deserve to be choked out." That said, he backs off a bit, waiting for feeling to restore to his foot, "I feel like I just struck the ground with a cricket bat... but in my foot, not my hand." he mutters to Jessica.

Jane Foster has posed:
Meanwhile, a few helpful Samaritans have dragged the cyclist and the first punched victim to the side. There are phones out, calls being lodged. A ragged attempt at CPR producing a lot more blood and consternation from the unconscious victim. "Um. Is his chest supposed to be caved in?" comes from a person talking to a befuddled emergency operator on the other side. "Yes, like it's totally sunk in. No, he wasn't hit by a car, he was punch-- I'm not a /prank caller/! What the hell, lady?"

Jessica Drew has posed:
"Crikey!" It was like dropping on top of a brick wall with both feet. And the tingle! Not the good tingle you get from exchanging glances with a good looking man. This was like walking into a hot electric cattle fence. Legs numb, Jessica lands awkwardly and grabs Achille's arm keeping Zoot-Suit Man in view.

"Sounds like Daisy is everyone's favorite. You alright?"

Dane Whitman has posed:
Dane blinks at the fellow who steadies him, rolling his shoulder a bit and frowning in thought. He gives the fellow a nod, not that he means to make nice with the Nazis, but turns away, waiting until he's a few steps away before murmuring into the comms, "Yeah, something weird is going on with these guys." And until he has a better idea what he'd prefer not to tangle directly with them. "Wait, did that guy just tell us to...tell the President?" That certainly seems a little...odd.

Achilles has posed:
    It's hard, really hard to -not- be a gentleman right now. Achilles helps support Jessica while at the same time, nursing pins and needles in his own left foot. "Are you quite alright?" he asks in that accented voice, "Daisy?" he asks. His brows lift and he inclines his head a bit. "What an unusual name. I wager I should not poke fun at it then." he adds as his eyes flicker towards the sounds being made by Daisy. After all, he only spoke to her briefly on the phone, but never got her first name. So he wouldn't recognize it yet. Wait until the two of them speak. It should be... well, like gasoline and a match.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
Fine. Daisy gave them a chance. ONE. Stop hostilities, from one side and the other. They were here to defuse a situation. But there was this big reason that Daisy was still a level 4 Agent, and one of those was .., difficulty in following orders. Or acting when acting is required. And did she just hear that someone just got their chest caved in? By these nazis?

So she sets her eyes on the one that called a good wife. "I meant. Everyone." no gut punching just yet. But intensity of those quakes grows in the direction of the one that said those words, maybe just enough to make him take a few steps back. A frown on her expression. Then she demands.

"This is not an approved meeting. Time to leave."

Jessica Drew has posed:
Late on the uptake, leaning on Achilles while the feeling unpleasantly returns to her feet, Jessica asks over coms, "Where are the police?"

She has the nasty electrical charge man next to her and may have quite a surprise for him if he makes another threatening move.

Daisy's quakes build, "Feel that? That's Daisy, the one you're here to meet. And, she's mad. Not good."

The Nazi's unwittingly may find themselves between a quake and a venom blast. Or would that be between a rock and a hard place?

Jane Foster has posed:
The Nazis happily wander after their peers. They herd the cats--err, protestors along, and growl or glare at anyone who tries to get near. Clearly they exude terrifying confidence, that certainty everyone is willing to support them rather than decrying their actions. They are certainly prepared to shove or beat anyone in their way, at least until the ground starts heaving. Up and down, they have to catch their balance. A few of the protesters and a few of the unfortunate pedestrians go butt-over-tea kettle. Whoops!

"Filthy American," snaps one American.

"Um, time to get going!" hollars one of the unhappy protesters, making a run for the far sidewalk. The shaking ground causes them to bend, catch themselves on anyone, and bolting if they can. Hey, so brave, a retreat as a strung out mass! The mob is more prone to grinning sharply or snarling, hissing, booing. The SS soldiers move briskly thereafter. No direct threat to little Ms. Drew or Achilles. Well, from the guy looking a bit poleaxed, he peels off good and fast to join his peers. Because what's a Nazi on his own? A target.

"I don't like daisies," he mutters.

Achilles has posed:
    Sure, he's been slow on the uptake once or twice, but Achilles turns to face Jessica, "-She- is whom I am here to meet? I came to speak with the New York Police, and potentially to whomever among SHIELD wished to speak with me. Are you telling me that -she- is the one I am to speak to?"
    He shakes his head, "Bollux." he mutters.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Jittering with Daisy juice, Jessica smiles quizzically addressing Achilles in her prime Oxfordian accent. "Yes, the very one! Looks like she has done a great job of calming this down even if we all have the shakes. Shall we?" She tugs on the arm she hasn't released.

Dane Whitman has posed:
"Not exactly the most subtle intervention." Dane Whitman notes, and while usually there would be at least a note of amusement to his voice when saying that, instead he's frowning in thought as the protestors move on. "Somebody patch in and see if an ambulance is on the way?" He turns his attention to Jessica and Achilles, "You two get the pins and needles, too? Where you made contact?"

Achilles has posed:
    Shaking his head, Achilles allows himself to be led by the far more powerful Spider-Woman. He gives her a wan smile and goes where he is bid. "Perhaps she will see fit to delay choking me until I have had the chance to view her credentials. Lord knows I deserve a choking now and then." he admits, rambling as he follows Jessica.

Daisy Johnson has posed:
"No, but something was off here.." Daisy says through the comms to Dane when the protesters start leaving the place, her eyes narrowed, glancing about to make sure noone takes cheap shots at the Agents or at the other people out in the street. Yea, sometimes she got a bit worked up. But we are also talking about nazis, so that was already her default setting. Aggressive. But those quakes end just as fast as they began.

She steps back to check on those people that were hurt then shifts her comms to join an emergency SHIELD line to call for an ambulance. Just in case. "I am on it." she answers Dane.

And then she is moving closer to where Drew and Achilles are, looking not-too-friendly... Damn nazis.

Jane Foster has posed:
The ambulance is on the way, but hey, a caved in chest is probably near to fatal. Maybe. It's not like the people know what they're doing. They aren't medical brilliant minds like some /other/ people.

Meanwhile, the Nazis in question are following those bravely in retreat. They aren't brave unless they are actual Nazi soldiers, who are still stumbling along on their feet because the ground is shaky-shaky-shaky.

The rally is breaking up at least. SHIELD +1.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Moving closer to Dane, "I heard that. And yes! That's going to merit a report. What's our status? Was that weird or what?"

She unhooks her arm from Achilles' still without introducing him as she watches Daisy move through the crowd towards them. Concern creasing her brow, she nods towards the knot of people around the man badly injured in the crowd. "That merits an assault charge if not manslaughter. And Nazis?" Her voice rises into an angry query.