16114/Coffee With DOOM

Coffee With DOOM
Date of Scene:	19 October 2023
Location:	Coffee of DOOM
Synopsis:	Rien comes by the coffee shop and meets with Doom and they have a brief conversation.
Cast of Characters:	Victor Von Doom, Rien D'Arqueness

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Victor Von Doom has posed:
The early morning shuffle of New York has begun. The drones of the working class, overworked and underpaid have started to make their way to their cubicles and corner offices, windowless views of a world that cares little for who they are and the actions that they make upon the world.

Doctor von Doom does not believe in such things. If you cannot make a change upon the world, then you have not tried hard enough. As the morning bustle brings customers to the shop, in an area that is cordoned off for the monarch when he visits, Doom is looking over reports and is enjoying a repast of a light breakfast and coffee.

A pair of Doombots flank either side of the monarch's table, silent guards to protect him - something he does not need, but will put up appearances of otherwise. The staff of the shop are busy serving customers with practiced ease and grace, while a gentle tune of the home country plays to set the ambiance.

A sip from his mug and Doom continues to read over a pad with a report on something from back home on it. It could be a farming yield report, it could be his latest experiment to pierce the multiverse. It's hard to tell with a mask that gives no expression unless you can look into his eyes.

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
A woman breezes her way into the busy coffee shop, one of many, though this one is... different. For one, she doesn't seem to match the usual 'look' of the patrons in the coffee shop. Nor does she move like that, she moves more like.. a warrior, or predator. And finally, for at least one patron, it's next to impossible to ignore the 'ping' of magic as she manages to enter the shop and make it to the counter to order without having to halt once. Miraculously, no line seems to hold her up, she merely arrives at the counter just as the staff member finishes with their final customer. She places her order quickly and pays, then moves away just as casually. Amazingly, the table she heads for opens up almost immediately, two patrons finishing their repast and rising to exit, with a staff member showing up immediately to clear and wipe the table just in time for her to claim it.

She drapes her coat over one of the chairs then moves to search the selection of reading material, confident that her table will still be waiting for her when she's finished. Taking up a few of the articles offered, she heads back to the table to settle in just as her meal and drink arrive. Again, it's truly amazing how she manages to always just be right where and when she needs to. As if by magic!

Settling in, he can see a French style pastry along with that brie and pear dish, and she seems to have chosen tea over coffee, squeezing a touch of lemon and honey into the cup to stir in carefully. Already looking over the first article, that 'ping' may well hit him again as she lifts her hand from the spoon... and the spoon continues to stir while she turns the page of the article. Minor magic, to be certain, but in a sea of normality, even the small things tend to stand out.

Victor Von Doom has posed:
There are many that assume that the Doctor Doom that is in the coffee shop is a prop. An actor hired to sit at the table, to look the part. To draw in gawkers and onlookers on a quiet day to increase business. There are times where this is indeed fact. Doom does not have all of the time he could to sit here and be a center of attention. Not that he minds such attention.

But then there are those that are subtle in the way that they draw attention to themselves. On the periphary of his powers, an eye twitch that becomes a narrowing of brows is the first step in Doom realizing that there is another with the touch of the magi amongst them.

While she considers her simple acts to be subtle, Doom seems them as blatant. The manipulation of the line. The drawing away of the table. The subtle suggestion to other patrons to leave her be. These are things that Doom recognizes.

When the waiter comes over to refill Doom's mug, the monarch considers and takes out a piece of stationery. A note is scribed, handed to the waiter and then directed to the young woman's table. He's assessing, watching her.

The waiter breezes over to her table. She may not have wanted to be disturbed, yet she is. The note set upon the table, the official seal of Latveria scribed in gold foil, the hand-writing elegant, a practiced hand in an almost dead art of communication.

'Join Me. - D.'

The bait is set, the line is cast. All that remains is to see if she is willing to rise to the invitation or will continue to try to mask herself among the patrons.

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
Rien was not expecting to be disturbed, so to have the waiter show up is something of a surprise. She glances up, curiosity writ across her face along with a touch of that surprise. Accepting the note, she nods to the waiter and looks over the paper with a faint but growing smile as she recognizes the seal on it. Turning it over, the smile grows and blue eyes lift from the paper to seek out the Table of Honor.

Rising up, she gathers her things together and makes her way effortlessly towards the man himself. Rien moves past the Doombots with the confidence to suggest she has no fear of them, instead allowing a waiter to pull her seat out for her so she can settle in at the table. Only once everything is in its place does she turn a light smile towards the ruler of Latveria.

"Good morning, Doctor. To what do I owe the honor?" She speaks the Latverian tongue as effortlessly as she's done everything else, picking up knife and fork to cut a small bite of the brie and pear to eat while keeping those very blue eyes on his.

While Rien speaks the language flawlessly in syntax and pronunciation, her own French accent is undeniable in her voice. Something she's never quite learned to get rid of... or more likely, that she simply never bothered to. She's as proud of her heritage as he is of his.

Victor Von Doom has posed:
The patience of the fisherman pays dividends. When the young woman rises from her seat, and gathers her items to come join him, there is a glance to the pair of Doombots, that are programmed to protect against intrusion. A rise and wave of his hand and they move aside, allowing Rien to pass without issue.

The waiter pulls back the chair, as the Doctor rises to greet the young woman as she approaches, his gaze assessing her as she approaches her. Nothing that would be considered crass or a leer, but more a curiosity that has grabbed his attention. As if one would consider a new pretty and shiny thing that has not been seen before.

Once she is seated, Doom returns to his seat, and the eyes she can see beneath the mask rise in momentary surprise at her near flawless use of his mother tongue. Settling in, there's a mote of amusement in his voice. "I would venture that you are aware of an answer to that same question." he suggests to her. But he is willing to play her game.

"As you have deduced, I am Doctor Victor von Doom, rightful ruler of Latveria, carrier of her standard and protector of her borders. However, I have yet to have made the pleasure of your acquaintance," And despite the effortlessnes of her speech, Doom can hear just that mote of, "Mademoiselle." There is no wedding ring present, it is a ventured guess.

"The experiment is this. There are those that when they reach the age of their biological puberty, they find themselves able to change the world around them. Some realize this. Some do not. Some are coy with this ability, while setting it aside. And there are some that may have such abilities by the shift of their genetic code." A pause. "Or the touch of the magi." His eyes meet hers and he lifts his coffee in a sip.

"I could be greeting a young woman that has drawn the attention of a monarch that seeks company. Or I could be assessing a threat to determine if it is something that should be addressed and dealt with."

"The experiment is for the subject, you, to determine which of these outcomes proves the theory and which would sway the thoughts of Doom."

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
Listening to him, Rien cants her head to one side, one corner of her mouth tilts upward as she gives a small nod. "Perhaps so, Doctor. But I like to think that I am more than simply the sum of my parts, too." She shifts slightly and crosses her legs, lifting her cup for a sip as she watches him. She certainly seems to be inviting him to play with her, at least verbally.

"My family named me Reine du Rien," she offers with a straight face. Queen of Nothing. Her *family* named her Queen of Nothing? She sets the cup back in its saucer, moving to cut off a bite of her pastry. "To most, I am simply Rien D'Arqueness." Clan D'Arqueness is well known in the magical world, an extremely powerful clan of magic users.

She chews her bite of pastry, then smiles faintly, "I am.. unique. Magi, yes, but more than that." She glances towards the Doombots, then back to Doom himself, giving a slight shake of her head, "Were I going to pose a threat to you, I'd have done it by now. I have no reason to, however. The methods you employ to achieve your goals are not always laudable, but I'm hardly in a position to cast judgment on methods." She motions towards him, "While it would certainly be an interesting fight, Doctor, it's not one that I'm looking to pick."

Lifting her cup for another sip of her tea, Rien smiles faintly, "And while I appreciate the compliment... I am not young by most standards. Though I will never turn down the opportunity to converse with a monarch. Especially one that prizes intellect and intelligent discourse."

Victor Von Doom has posed:
"I assure you, you are much more than the sum of your parts or I would have mentioned your physical attributes before anything else." Doom points out as he sets aside his coffee for the moment and his hands settle on the table, surprisingly gentle for the large metal gauntlets that he wears.

"The Queen of Nothing." He knows the translation well. "I find irony in the Queen of Nothing finding the company of the King that seeks all. But perhaps kismet as well." A strong word, but one that seems appropriate for their passing.

"If I believed you a threat, I would have had you removed, rather than sending you an invitation. You mistranslate my words. I am fascinated by the whole of what you may be as compared to the parts that you present."

"There are many that have heard the tales of those that wish to denounce Latveria as something it is not. These same are not the ones that have taken the time to investigate and visit it for themsleves."

"I did not invite you to this table for combat." A small tsk from within his armor, "That is a reaction that I usually reserve for those such as Richards. And even then, in this shop, I have carefully cultivated the experience that an average citizen can experience a moment in my home without the passport. Why would I disrupt that tranquility."

"Very few are considered a threat. You are more an interest." he points out to her. "Many that show the wisdom that you have would consider themselves young. Youth is wasted in that manner, with those that perfer fists or insults over conversation. I have met many a magi, Rien D'Arqueness, cousin of the Coven of Harkness. None of which were young. Most of which chose to be such. None have disappointed in conversation or companionship." Which is a subtle 'Age matters not'.

"So tell me of yourself. Regal me with the tale of how you have come to sit here, with mee." And then there may be a subtle smile in his voice. "And since we have discussed such matters, you may refer to me as Victor, if I may refer to you as Rien?"

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
"Hmmmmmm, a fact I deeply appreciate, I assure you. The number of times I've been greeted with a compliment about some part of my anatomy or other... before even seeking my name, or confirmation that I wish interaction," Rien rolls her eyes, then looks back to Victor with a faint smile. "I must admit, my presence has never been commanded by way of official seal and hand-written note. I am intrigued." She manages the refined manners of the French with ease and grace, not calling attention to it and letting the mannerisms speak for themselves.

"Then we are in fine company, I see the irony myself. Admittedly, it amused me when I first read the note." She lets her finger fall to the paper briefly before chuckling softly before offering, "My apologies. I meant to assure you as to my lack of aggressive intent, not to infer that you were incorrect."

Shaking her head lightly, Rien smiles at him, "I speak of more than Latveria.. though your country has been drawing more press of late. In another time or place, you might be termed ruthless... in yet another, perhaps simply dedicated. The shift of world view and societal beliefs does tend to determine which adjectives are applied to a person."

Leaning forward slightly, she smiles faintly, "Combat can be fun, you know. With the right partner. Generally not one's enemies, of course, but sometimes. Sometimes it can be an excellent means of enjoyment and release." She glances around the shop, "Not here, of course. This is a place of relaxation and inquiry. Of curiosity and discourse." Those blue eyes turn back to his, "But in the proper setting, with the proper partner... oh yes, it can be very fun indeed."

Chuckling softly, she murmurs, "I am young in terms of my life expectancy, I suppose. In that, we can agree." Lifting a shrug, Rien offers, "I cannot speak of wasted youth, my life was not my own until I was already older than most of those in this shop. But I can say that I choose not to waste time now that the choice is mine to make. You are interesting... Victor."

The tacit agreement to using given names comes with a smile as lifts a brow, "Surely you don't seek the banal story of my trek from my home to the coffee shop. You sense something different about me, yes? And you are correct. I'm not from here." Something to the inflection in her voice suggests she's speaking more than just the city or country.

Victor Von Doom has posed:
There's a thoughful pause, and before Doom can say anything on the matter, there's a pleasant chime from his gauntlet. He lifts it and there is a brief conversation via text, before there's a frowning nod, any of the light mood he had a moment ago vanishing.

"My apologies." he offers formally. "There is something that I am required to attend to. In order to make up for this sudden departure, I will request your presence at the Latverian Embassy for a dinner of cuisine resident to my nation."

Not quite a question. Not quite an order. Tact and niceties are not Doom's strong suite. "As you are quite intriguing."

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
Rien pauses at the chime on his gauntlet, giving it a curious glance, then wearing an amused expression for the brief conversation. She lifts a brow at the frown, but still seems to be more amused than anything.

THe apology offered, however, has her givng a nod and offering a faint smile, "Entirely understandable. You have a country to run, after all. I doubt it will often wait for you to finish your coffee, when duty calls." The invitation is accepted with a nod, "I'd be delighted. Formal dress, I presume. I will look forward to receiving your invitation."

She stays seated, however, clearly intending to finish her repast before moving on with her own day. Glancing up at him, she smiles, "Likewise, Victor. Until then, I hope your day goes well."

Victor Von Doom has posed:
"Formal dress is acceptable." Rising to his feet, Doom makes his way to the door, Doombots trailing behind him. However, he pauses by her as he prepares to leave and leans down, his words for her ears only.

"In the future, do not manipulate the guests of this establishment. It is only that you grabbed my curiosity that I allowed you to remain."

Straightening back up, he makes his way out.