15809/First rule of Fight Club.

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First rule of Fight Club.
Date of Scene: 07 September 2023
Location: Underground Skatepark
Synopsis: Franklin meeds Kitkat, and he gives her a brief introduction before dumping her on the Shazams!
Cast of Characters: Franklin Richards, Kitkat




Franklin Richards has posed:
On a clear night in Brooklyn, an underground skatepark nestled in the heart of the city was enveloped by an air of secrecy. The entrance was guarded by a group of stern individuals dressed impeccably in sharp suits. In the center of the dimly lit space lay a vast pool, typically meant for skateboarders to glide back and forth on. However, on this particular night, it had a different purpose.

Inside the pool, two imposing figures engaged in a fierce brawl, exchanging powerful blows. Surrounding the pool's edge, a raucous crowd of spectators shouted and cheered, their voices blending with the clinking of money as bets were placed on the outcome.

Off to the side, Franklin sat on a makeshift chair, his shirt removed, and gloves with minimal padding worn on his hands. He waited patiently for his turn to step into the pool, well aware that the ongoing fight wouldn't last much longer. His companion, a slightly nervous-looking man standing beside him, voiced his concerns, "Are you sure you want to do this? These people are twice your size, and remember, you can't use your powers in there." He emphasized the need to play by the rules to avoid trouble.

With a small, confident smile, Franklin nodded and maintained his focus on the hulking opponent he was about to face.

This underground venue hosted several fights that evening, each with a substantial purse at stake. Franklin's slender frame contrasted starkly with the massive and intimidating fighters around him. However, his peculiar presence did not distract him from his purpose.

As the night unfolded, one of the combatants in the pool began to falter, losing their footing and stumbling under a relentless barrage of punches. The crowd's roar shifted from excitement to disappointment as the fighter, who had shown such promise earlier, fell to the ground, defeated. The dramatic turn of events was a stark reminder of the unpredictability and intensity of the underground fight club scene in Brooklyn.

Kitkat has posed:
It wasn't the guys in sharp suits that had invited Kitkat. Neither was it one of the lean people with the green shades that were sitting on pop up tables, protected by a couple huge people with shades, gathering and counting bills. It was a particular, short, near bald guy with serious weight issues clad in a sweatsuit, a shabby fedora and greasy wireframe glasses. Mikey "the Goldmill" Meredith. Years ago, he might have been considered a pro trainer for these backyard fights, but he also was dragging in fresh meat into the fights - literally, as he was rumored to train his cadre in a butchery.

Accompanying that sleazy one to the edge of the ring was, judging from the way the person moved, at least someone that knew how to fight and tumble, the blood red, silky sheening robe reminiscent of those wrestler robes, the hood pulled over the head. Still, something about the figure seemed off. "You remember the deal I hope, Mikey. I beat that other one up, I get that half cow you had me smack for half an hour."

"Don't sweat it gal. You can't lose, really. Tell you what, you win all the bouts and the don might even give you a share of the winnings." the short one said, smiling wide while he wiped his greasy hands on his sides. "See that one? I think he's after your bout. I doubt he'll stay up long. Want me to bet he's taken out?

The cowled head moved to eye Franklin, but then shook the head, the eyes under the hood almost glowing. "I don't know his counterpart," the female voice remarked. In the skater bowl below, one of the muscles moved to drag the defeated one out while the winner was still being pronounced and the announcer started to try and hype for the next bout.

Opposigte the red clad fighter came a man with quite a beard in a black speedo with white saw-patterns around the armholes, accompanied by the chant of "Bone Saw! Bone Saw!" by those that knew him. The announcer yelled into his Microphone "Who's the man?", only to have it snatched from his hand under the people reciting the name and the man himself proclaiming "Bone Saw is ready!"

When the announcer reclaimed the microphone from the champion, he moved to gesture at the other end of the bowl, towards Mickey and his fighter. "And on the other side, Micky "the Goldmill" managed to find us a real freak tonight! How do we call her?" Instead of managing to get a name out from Mickey or the red hooded one, the crowd chanted what might be a strange mix of kill, prey, meat and possibly many other single syllable words for someone that would be defeated in the first bout.

Arriving at the ringside, the announcer whispered something to the two. "What's your name, kid?"
"Kitkat."
"That's it? That's the best you got?"
"That's my name?"
"Oh, that sucks."

Prowling back to the center of the ring, under cascades of chants, the announcer got back to the Mic. "You're in for a treat! If she wins, the pot of price money will be paid to...
...the ferrifying, the deadly, the murderous...
...the inhuman Killer Cat!"

There's a short protest at the ringside from the fighter, but with a push from Mikey and holding the coat, a very feline calico lady is tumbling into the Ring, hissing back at the short guy with the fedora. At least some in the crowd seem to think the nickname is worth a chant though, picking up only on the last word: Cat, Cat, Cat, Cat....

Franklin Richards has posed:
Franklin remained quiet as she and Mikey entered the venue, his demeanor calm and composed. He didn't initially look up, but when Mikey began talking about him, there was an eerie shift in the atmosphere. Franklin raised his gaze and locked eyes with Kitkat for a brief moment. There was no fear in his expression, only a sense of tranquility. He offered a small, knowing smile and a nod in response to her comment. Though he was too far away to hear their conversation, the look he gave conveyed that he understood.

Franklin didn't speak just yet; instead, he began stretching his muscles as he observed Kitkat entering the arena, paying no attention to the man being dragged out.

Having participated in events like this for some time now, Franklin had learned to spot certain signs. While the burly Bone Saw was a typical presence, the woman in what appeared to be maybe a cat suit stood out. Individuals didn't show up dressed like that unless they had serious fighting skills, so she piqued his interest. He couldn't help but grin slightly, empathizing with her regarding the lack of a better name than hers.

As Kitkat and Bone Saw entered the arena, Franklin leaned over to the man standing beside him and whispered in a soft voice, "A grand on the cat." The man rushed off to place the wager, leaving Franklin to continue his stretching routine, knowing he would be next in line.

While the crowd chanted in excitement, Franklin didn't join in. Instead, he wore a small grin as he watched Kitkat closely. His attention briefly shifted to Mikey, and a frown crossed his face. He didn't like people like Mikey, and the man's mind seemed murky and unpleasant. Franklin reminded himself to stay calm, as losing his temper would only lead to trouble.

Returning his focus to the skatepool-like ring, Franklin made a mental note to deal with Mikey later. For now, he was more interested in the impending fight. He knew Bone Saw, and the man didn't hold back. If Kitkat lost, it would be painful, but there was nothing Franklin could do at the moment. He was here as another fighter, and the outcome of this match was yet to be seen.

Kitkat has posed:
Under the chant of Bone Saw and cheers to the muscled brute, the male started lunging for the calico feline, trying to slam her to the ground, but she bent backwards to evade the swing. The moment later, she answered in kind, the swing of her left paw sending the man reeling with a heavy clap. He didn't go down, but spit something red out, picking up a folding chair from someone at the edge of the ring to go after the feline.

Instead of doging or blocking the hefty swing, Kitcat counterstruck, the plastic seating surface turning into jagged shards flying through the ring as she swung against the implement, a toothy grin appearing on her face as the destruction of his weapon seemed to give Bone Saw - and his fans - a moment of pause. Dashing to the ringside, he picked up a crowbar while Kitkat seemed to just... patiently wait there in the depth of the bowl, catching his heavy blow in such a fashin that he did lift himself off the ground - and then yanking the steel bar from his hands. "You call that a weapon?" she blarted, spinning the tool at the hooked end arould her hand as she moved in on the speedo clad wrestler, then stopping it suddenly. Two heartbeats nothing moved.

A moment later it was like a thunderclap went throgh the ring, but it was the sound of cracking bones and cement, not lightning. The crowd seemed shocked, silent for a moment as they tried to understand what had just happened. For one... Kitkat had just performed a kick, so much the pose told easily, the tail balancing out the act. For two, Bone Saw wasn't standing in the center of the rink, but had clearly hit the edge of the rink. And for three, between his legs the crowbar was lodged into the wall. Not through the man, but as gravity took hold of him again, a painful whine proclaimed that his own body weight was making it particularly uncomfortable...

The commentator slipped back into the ring, eying the whining fighter tapping on the wall, loudly counting the taps. "One, two, three! That's it! That's it! Winner!"

Approaching Kiktat, he grabbed the wrist to yank it up, repeating the proclamation. "Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for the new combattant, Killer Cat! And now get your ass back to your trainer, it's time for the next bout!"

Kitkat didn't seem to linger in the extacy of the win long, yanking the crowbar from the wall to let Bone Saw down before she pulled herself up to get to Mikey.

Franklin Richards has posed:
With a chuckle, Franklin pocketed the money he had just earned, a substantial sum given the odds he had placed that grand on. As he stood up, he approached the ring, taking a moment to pass Kitkat with a congratulatory comment, "Well done. Stick around after the fight if you have a moment." He didn't look directly at her, his voice low, but he maintained the friendly smile that had been on his face throughout the evening.

As he entered the ring, the announcer once again inquired about his name. Franklin sighed, clearly unimpressed with the lack of creativity in the fighter names at this venue, and simply stated, "Franklin."

The announcer, seemingly defeated, initially dubbed him "Frankie" before Franklin swiftly corrected him, "Franklin... Call me Frankie again, and you will be the next on the list." The announcer, shocked by the assertiveness, quickly complied with the correction.

Addressing the audience, the announcer introduced Franklin and his towering opponent, "On this side... Frank... Franklin!" The crowd, still worked up from the previous fight, began chanting in anticipation. On the other side, a colossal man, nearly seven feet tall, known as "the widow maker," raised his massive arms, prompting the crowd to chant, "Kill, kill, kill!" The man then made a threatening gesture by dragging his thumb across his throat, directed at Franklin.

Franklin remained composed, unfazed by the spectacle. He had decided to put on a show of his own, inspired by Kitkat's earlier performance. As the battle began, instead of engaging in a typical back-and-forth brawl, Franklin adopted an unusual stance, facing sideways with one hand extended, fingers pointed.

The large opponent charged forward, the crowd ready to witness the clash. As he closed in on Franklin, the young man struck, his muscles tensing, and a small blue light barely visible to anyone but the most astute observers. His fist, just three inches away, impacted the giant directly over the heart.

The large man came to a sudden halt, his towering figure looming over Franklin. Everyone fell silent, confused by what had just transpired. Franklin turned away, addressing the announcer, "You should start counting." The large man collapsed to the ground, unable to continue.

The crowd erupted in boos and hisses, incensed by the abrupt ending and suspecting foul play. Arguments erupted, with attendees accusing the organizers of rigging the fights. Franklin, ignoring the chaos, returned to his seat, a satisfied smile on his face.

The man who had spoken to him earlier approached with a worried expression, demanding, "What did you do?" He gestured towards the angry crowd. "They came here for a fight, not whatever that was."

Franklin sighed, looking around for his bag before responding calmly, "I merely stopped his heart. He was a bad man." He directed the man to collect his winnings before rising from his seat. He scanned the crowd, hoping to find Kitkat before she left. If he spotted her among the throng, he would push through the people to approach her, wearing the same friendly smile and air of calmness that had never left his face. The others in the crowd were merely brutes, but Kitkat had piqued his interest, and he hoped to have a chance to speak with her before he was forced to leave.

Around him, the venue transformed from a fight club into chaos as accusations of fixed fights and cheating flew, and the hosts struggled to regain control of the situation.

Kitkat has posed:
At the edge of the Ring, Mikey seemed to try to explain something to Kitkat, who in turn shook her head, glaring a little at the short man while the fight in the bowl came to a sudden halt. That... wasn't a fight the people wanted.

At least the organizers quickly reacted as they ushered a new fight into the ring, other participants, and the offer to keep the bets or swap them to those new fighters without loss. Damage prevention.

As for the Calico? She didn't give autographs, instead arguing wiht 'the Goldmill'. "You owe me that half cow and I want it. No buts or cash. You promised, so you pay that up lest I show you what I did to that first thing Bone Saw used." she urged the short guy as Franklin drew near, her ears swiveling back to him. "And now scoot and uphold your end of the bargain."

Franklin Richards has posed:
Franklin gave Kitkat a moment to wrap up her business, maintaining a friendly smile as he waited for an opportune time to approach her. Once things seemed to be getting back on track, he decided it was the right moment to strike up a conversation.

"Umm, hello," he began, "I know this is weird timing, but I saw your fight, and it was rather impressive. I was wondering if you have a moment, as I'm quite curious." He glanced around the venue, acknowledging that the circumstances were unusual. Turning his attention back to her, he continued, "I can't offer you a cow, but I can provide a warm meal, maybe something to drink if you wish. I understand that some people don't have free time without some kind of incentive." He added this quickly, not wanting to offend the fighter, given her formidable abilities displayed in the ring.

Then, he discreetly glanced back at the Goldmill, leaning in slightly to whisper, "You know that guy is bad news, right? He's all smiles but messed up... up here," as he tapped his head. He didn't mean the person had a learning disability; rather, he implied that the man's thoughts were twisted. Falling back into an awkward silence, Franklin appeared uncertain, wondering if he was handling the situation correctly. He wasn't quite sure how to initiate a conversation with fighters in a fight club.

Clearing his throat, Franklin attempted once more, just as a man approached him from behind, holding a stack of money, which he handed to Franklin without a word. He then nodded to Kitkat and hurriedly moved away, seeming even more nervous than before.

Franklin tried to introduce himself properly, his nervousness showing in a chuckle as he looked at Kitkat. "Umm... sorry," he began, "as you know, I am Franklin... Franklin Richards." He extended his hand for a handshake. For those who followed the news, they might have seen him before. Franklin Richards was known as one of the Fantastic Four, although his recent activities had been somewhat under wraps, as news agencies didn't typically cover places like this.

With a nervous chuckle, Franklin continued, "I do my best in the ring, but, you see, talking to people out here is a bit different. I can handle myself in a fight, but social situations are a whole other matter." He smiled genuinely, hoping that his somewhat awkward attempt at conversation wouldn't deter Kitkat from engaging with him. He then cursed at himself internally. "I am oversharing again. sorry I rant when nervious." and gives a bit of a chuckle.

Kitkat has posed:
After sending Mikey on his way to retrieve the promised half cow - or about 300 ponds of meat hanging weight - Kitkat turns around to Franklin even before he cleared his throat. "Was it? I don't think so. That Bone Saw was just acting silly, and I didn't even use a proper weapon to serve him."

As she spoke, the feline teeth were quite visible, even in the skatepark's odd light while in the background the fighters tried hard to make a show.

"That beef Mikey owes me should make my food for the next days, I am good on that front as soon as he delivers. But which guy you mean? Bone Saw? He's just show and whining when you kick his guts."

The name Richards doesn't ring any bells for Kitkat, the muscles above her eyes tensing, and would she have just a normal face, she might just rose her eyebrows. "You didn't show them a fight or at least showed off in beating your enemy. Only stood there."

Franklin Richards has posed:
Franklin smiled and chuckled in response to Kitkat's question. "You been doing this long? Most of the time, any tool is considered a weapon. Usually, it's very bad, but I guess from the way you handled it, I can see that." He shook his head, acknowledging that her performance was far from typical. As he observed her more closely, he realized that if it was a cat suit, it was incredibly well-crafted, enough to fool even him at close range. He didn't mention it, but instead, he continued to watch with intrigue.

When Kitkat asked about whom he was referring to, Franklin didn't offer more specifics, opting to change the topic instead. "So what brings you out this way? We don't see many people like yourself around here, maybe in Mutant Town, but roaming around New York is definitely a new one." He smiled, hoping to subtly bring up the topic of mutants. There were various types of mutants, and some, like Beast, had undergone physical transformations as a result.

"Also," he added quickly, "you do know a cow won't last that long in the heat, right? You need to salt it or cook it for it to last beyond a day or two." Then he put his hand on his chin, pondering aloud, "Though if you were to eat it in just a couple of days... I guess that could work, but that's a lot of food." Franklin quickly returned to the main topic, asking, "Either way, do you plan on continuing to do this for meals? I only ask because someone of your level could be doing so much more."

He hesitated briefly as he noticed a change in Kitkat's eyes. Uncertain whether he had offended her with his fight or his questions, he let out a sigh and looked over at the pool. "I'll tell you a secret," he began, his tone more confiding, "I really only come to these things to find other interesting people. If I were to truly fight him, nothing would be left, so it really wouldn't be fair. I try not to drag it out because of that, though it helps that I'm not much of a showman. I can't even dance, if you can believe it... Two left feet." He chuckled, rubbing his head in embarrassment. "I can show you if you wish, as I know it's hard to believe, but it's true. Unfortunately, I left human competition a long time ago." He sounded somewhat wistful, reflecting on his unique abilities that had set him apart from an early age.

With a shrug, he fell into a brief silence before continuing, "I'm sorry if I messed up your night, though. I didn't really mean to inconvenience you... And that Widow Maker guy should be all right given time to heal." He wanted to make sure Kitkat didn't see him as a cold-blooded killer, as that wasn't the case. He was being honest with her and trying to establish a friendly connection.

Kitkat has posed:
As they talk, Kitkat moves some towards an area where some of the fighters stow their stuff, and there to a pile of old dirty blankets. "That wasn't a weapon. At best... silly tools. A real weapon... This is one." Almost nonchalantely she lifts the bundle of blankets, unwrapping a Zweihander within a couple of moments - and balancing it outstretched with one hand as she presents it.

"Cow for sure is much better than dog." Kitkat doesn't seem to be fazed in the slightest, nodding at his time estimate. "Maybe a week, and at least it doesn't come mixed with inedibles. An Adventurer needs to fill her belly without needing to beg for slices of food mixed with grease and stuff that makes the stomach upset."

"You seem to have perfectly normal feet for a human." Whatever Humor Franklin seemed to try... it was apparently lost on the calico patterned, the heavy blade so easily balanced in her hand.

Franklin Richards has posed:
Franklin followed Kitkat's lead and watched as she took out the large weapon. He took a step back, recognizing the potential danger. He wasn't invincible, and a weapon like that in her hands could pose a serious threat. He chuckled a bit and shook his head. "That is quite a weapon. Though even if Mr. Saw had that in his hands, I doubt he would be much of a threat." He held his hands up in a non-threatening gesture. "How about we put the large weapon away for now?" he suggested with a friendly smile, concerned that walking around with such a weapon might make some people very nervous.

He then shifted the conversation to the topic of food. "Yes, cow is better than dog. I'm sure Cosmo will be happy to hear that," he mused with a smile, referencing the telepathic Russian space dog. However, he also wanted to know more about Kitkat herself. "But you are an adventurer," he said, acknowledging her unique lifestyle. "That I can understand. I also adventure at times. Though up there," he pointed upward to the sky, "space, not the building." He quickly clarified, recalling Kitkat's preference for precise language. "It seems you have been adventuring for a while. Do you ever consider maybe getting a home or maybe a place to stay?"

Raising his hands to avoid any misunderstanding, Franklin clarified, "I'm not offering. I mean, sure, the tower is a big place, but my mom gets rather upset at me if I bring people home." He chuckled at the thought of his mother's reaction. "Though you can't argue with the freedom of being able to just go wherever you please, whenever you please," he added with a sigh, reflecting on the perks of his own lifestyle.

Reaching into a pocket, he pulled out a card and then hesitated. "You don't have a phone, do you? I don't mean to sound rude, but do you know how to use one?" He held the card in front of him. "If you do, I can give you this. It's a way to contact me if you get tired of running out there or need to find a meal. I try to help out my friends however I can. Don't worry about payment; I often help my friends for free."

He smiled at Kitkat's comment about his feet. Although he was used to people not getting his humor, at least she wasn't trying to turn him into a chicken this time. "Thank you," he said in response to the feet comment. He then reached into his other pocket and took out his winnings. "Do you know how to use this? I heard you told your... friend... that you didn't want cash. I have no real need for it, but if your in the city you will soon, I would consider it part of that 'friend' thing I mentioned earlier."

Franklin came from a wealthy background and had his own inventions to sell if he needed more money. A few grand from a fight club was inconsequential to him, and if it helped out a fellow adventurer, he was more than willing to part with it.

Kitkat has posed:
"Maybe not, but I would have taken it from him and left him a wreck. It wasn't a fight to second or third blood though, so nobody brought the real weapons." Kitkat remarked, wrapping the sword back into the blanket but then shouldering it, the hand very easily balancing it out as that was just how you do carry such a blade.

"Who's Cosmo?" Kitkat did eye Franklin almost like most cats seem to watch people. "What do you call a while? I have not even seen more of Outworld than this town that seems to stretch for days. I havn't even found its edge but for the pockets of strange green. Where's the wastelands that ought to surround a town and what's with all the damned branches of the Styx creeping through town?"

"What is a phone?" Kitkat wasn't just tech illiterate... the place she came from didn't have phones to begin with. "He tried to negotiate me out of having my promised cow. Claimed it would bee too pricey for him, but he had promised." Eying the green bills, she shrugged. "You use these prayer slips to the depicted magicians in exchange for services and goods. The more you want, the more prayers you give them. I prefer steel and gold coins, they have a ring."

Franklin Richards has posed:
Franklin chuckled and nodded. "I bet you would have," he agreed. "Thankfully, you did right by staying out of those fights. They may pay better, but when you bring weapons into it, things get serious." He glanced at her as she shouldered the massive blade and considered her questions. He decided to answer them in order.

"Cosmo is a psychic dog from Russia," he began. "I think she is in space, but she might be on Earth now." He contemplated tracking her down again sometime soon.

Then, he smiled and pulled out a small device, holding it out to Kitkat with care. "Be careful. It's very fragile," he warned. "It's a communications device to contact people over long distances." He showed her how to use it, demonstrating the buttons. "Look, if you do this, you can call me. Or this one calls my friend Shazam," he pointed out, though he hung up before it rang, not wanting to disturb his friend. Trying to explain the concept of a town or their place, he was struggling as there was so much to cover.

"We are on a huge chunk of land surrounded by water on each side," he began slowly. "On this land are huge cities where people use those devices in the roads called cars to move around." He sighed, feeling like he might not be doing a great job at explaining. "Listen, would you be up for meeting some friends of mine? They could explain things a bit better, as I'm really not great at this." He then addressed the pay slips, explaining, "Also, those slips are called money. People barter them for goods and services. Take it; you're going to need it, as gold and steel aren't accepted in trade, but these slips are." He offered the slips to her and added with a grin, "But be careful with that phone. It's made of glass, and glass breaks!"

Kitkat has posed:
There's a shrug from Kitkat, the head tilting left, then right. "That was a serious fight. I could have thrown higher, if I wanted. He wasn't worth it."

The explanation of who Cosmo was seemed to strike nothing. Like the words were not meaning anything. Dog. Russia. Not words that belonged to her world so far. The cellphone she eyes sceptically, her fingers twitching as she leans the sword against herself. "That looks strange. So I press... there and there and get that strange thing to work?"

"You call your prayerslips Money, where they have nothing to do with coinage? But I do understand how that And your land borders the Styx? At least the Lands Within only border it on one side."

She doesn't accept the phone, shaking the head. "I could meet your friends."

Franklin Richards has posed:
Franklin takes the phone, and a woman's voice answers. He smiles as he places it against his ear and, after a moment, speaks into it.

"No, sorry, Mom, it's a misdial," he says with a pause. Then, "Yes, Mother," he adds before glancing away. "No, Mom, I told you I'm not dating anyone right now. Look, I've got to go. I... got to go. Okay... Okay..." He turns and briefly looks at Kitkat before averting his gaze. "Yes, love you too, Mom." He rushes the last part, embarrassed. Franklin turns off the phone and sighs. "Yes, that's how you dial, but you clicked one too low," he says with a grin. "My mother did say hello, though."

He tries to refocus now that his quick conversation is over. "Right, money. It's a representation of coinage," he says, pointing to the money he's offering her. "It's like having a bag of coins, but it's easier to carry since they're thin and small," he explains, noting that she at least knows something about currency. "Get her to Mary, and she'd be shopping in a week. But for now, let's keep answering your questions." He does some math. "To make it easier, you see the size of the street out there? That's what we call a block, and it's about three hundred feet." He considers. "The land you're on is about fifty thousand times that, a little less, but still around there." He shrugs a bit. "Outside of that land, there are large bodies of salty water. No Styx, or at least not in this realm, but we'll get to dimensional travel another day." He chuckles, realizing it might be too much to start with.

"Anyway," he continues, "I'd be happy to introduce you to my friends. I'm a bit isolated from people, so my greeting skills are a little rusty." He grins again but adds, "Don't freak out, okay? This is normal for me." He raises his hands, snapping his fingers.

As he does this, a cloud appears behind him, initially small, but it gradually expands. In the middle of it, there's a portal with bits of purple lightning inside. On the other end of the portal, there's a house, and it looks like you could walk through it, although one might need to duck down a bit.

The loudness and talking around them come to a stop as everyone stares. A portal appearing suddenly isn't normal, but for Franklin, it's a simple folding of space. There isn't any noise for now, even the fighters have stopped fighting, all of them stunned by this anomaly and wondering what it could be and why it's there.

Kitkat has posed:
Kitkat says, "And you put the pictures of magicians onto it. Do you trust them to hold the coins and gold for you, and the image decides who you entrusted it with? I know no Mary." The numbers just,... fly over her head. The problem with large numbers. "That doesn't make sense."

Though, even as Franklin does summon a portal... that doesn't seem to faze the calico colored cat people. "So you are a magican too. You open a gate to somewhere.""

Franklin Richards has posed:
Franklin smiles and explains, "And no, you don't trust them with your money; only give away what you must because it's a prized resource." He attempts to clarify, "Don't worry; it will be explained. The best way I can put it is that everything has a value in those dollars, except for people, of course, as that's been against the rules for a long time now, thankfully."

Taking a step back, he grins confidently, saying, "I'm better than a magician; I'm a mutant." As he lets her take a look, she might feel not a kick but a push from behind by a force field. Franklin doesn't want to do it after witnessing what she did to the last guy.

The force field pushes her into and through the portal to the other side, with the portal closing behind her. She can hear Franklin's voice saying, "Go to the house, knock on the door. They're in there. You can figure the rest out from here." Franklin doesn't follow her, leaving her alone in front of the house.

Instead, Franklin turns around and smiles at the crowd, saying, "No, I'm sorry to you folks, but I can't have you remembering any of this." As the portal closes, his image fades from view.