1650/Same Bigotry, Different Target

Same Bigotry, Different Target
Date of Scene:	13 May 2020
Location:	Bushwick <Mutant Town>
Synopsis:	No description
Cast of Characters:	Nyssa al Ghul, Rachel Summers

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Nyssa al Ghul has posed:
The world spins and things change, but some things just put on a different face. Decades ago, Nyssa thought she and her family could avoid the fire that swept through Europe. She was wrong. Very wrong. And every day since, she's done what she can to prevent another fire from starting.

Genosha is a bit of a sore point on that front. The first talk of Sentinels years ago brought her to New York. And now they seem to be back in vogue. Worse, intel on the ground is unacceptably sparse. So rather than sending a minion of some sort into Mutant Town to investigate, she's gone herself.

It's late enough that most decent people have gone to bed, and in this part of the city, not all the street lights are well-lit. Lingering wreckage from the most recent attack litters a dark alley, and among it Nyssa steps carefully, broken glass barely crunching under dark boots.

Rachel Summers has posed:
    Mutant town is not the sort of place Rachel spends much time in. It's not that doesn't understand the plight. Far from it, she's seen it from the other end, after it was chewed up and spit out. But for the most part, she sees things going the same route and nothing she does seems to have any effect in a way she'd like.
    She's been feeling disconnected from everyone and everything. Nevermind the fact that her arriving in this timeline has put pressure on the woman who, in three years seven months and twelve days, is supposed to give birth to a baby Rachel. So she tries to spend time -away- from there so she doesn't feel like she is weight upon the shoulders of her parents to be. God, time travel sucks.
    Either way, she has been investigating other super types, and has come to a realization about the easy (and hard) way to help fix the world. To stop making -being- a mutant a big deal one way or the other. The X-Men take only mutants on their team and use it to try to change opinions of mutants. Why label it? Why notjust be superheroes and take anyone who wants to help out?
    This is running through her mind, mostly as a mantra to try to keep out the thoughts of everyone around her. It's how she deals with that insanity, think nonstop about something so that the thoughts of others don't break in.
    So tonight, she's just some young redhead woman walking down the street. At least in Mutant-Town, she doesn't bother hiding her facial scars.

Nyssa al Ghul has posed:
The sound of an approach draws Nyssa's attention from the scene of the crime, a faint tilt to her head as she takes a step back into the shadows to get a better idea of who she is. She's hardly more than a shadow herself, a deep hood pulled around her features, a mask over the lower half of her face hiding any details.

Then again, it's only so much help when people are looking with more than just eyes.

Then again, the other woman looks like she's absorbed in her own thoughts. Perhaps there's no reason to be concerned over discovery. Sticking to the shadows at the edge of the alley, she inspects the detritus of the fight, eyes narrowed as she searches for anything out of place.

Rachel Summers has posed:
    Did I mention Rachel is psychic? It's annoying at times. But there -are- moments when the Phoenix Force pokes her in the shoulder and says, 'Hey stupid. Look here!'
    Rachel pauses, almost stumbling over her own two feet for whatever reason. Then she turns her head and her green eyes take in the scene before her. A hand comes up and covers her mouth as she goes pale as a sheet. Of course, she's a redhead. She -is- super pale already. But she doesn't notice, or doesn't -care- about the woman in the shadows. Right now, she's utterly disgusted by what she is seeing, and not paying attention to the details.

Nyssa al Ghul has posed:
Most of the destruction is mundane. Broken windows and bricks, a toppled dumpster. The remains of a car that had the bad fortune of being in exactly the wrong parking space. But here and there is evidence of the human - or mutant - damage. A suspicious stain, a half-wrapped sandwich someone dropped when they decided running was the best option. The sorts of things that carry more psychic resonance than just rubble.

Nyssa goes still again as the other woman looks toward the destruction, watching her closely from the darkness. Measuring.

Fit. Strong. Distracted by a memory of trauma, but unlikely to stay that way for long. Judging Rachel a potential threat, she slides one hand to her back, though which weapon she'll choose is still up in the air.

Rachel Summers has posed:
    Shaking her head, Rachel narrows her eyes. There is just the hint of a flame licking from the corners of her eyes. "I wouldn't do that." she remarks.
    "Unless you are here specifically to throw away your life by attacking someone you -think-... wrongly, cannot defend herself."
    Then her eyes come upwards and she stares at the shadows. "You are here to.. investigate, not to cause harm, yes?" she asks. Stupid psychics. She's not delving into your mind so much as just... feeling the waves of emotions you are unwittingly projecting.

Nyssa al Ghul has posed:
"In my experience, it pays to be prepared for the worst." Which is no doubt why, as she lowers her hand from her back, she palms a pair of throwing stars from her belt, dancing them between her fingers so that when she raises her hands palms out in a gesture of surrender, they can't be seen.

Nobody expects the psychic inquisition!

"But you are correct." Her voice is low and measured, with a hint of an accent that's difficult to place, long worn away by time and other languages. "It seems I'm quite late to the scene, though. Anything blantanly obvious is long gone." Unmoving, she watches Rachel for another moment. "I don't think you meant to be here, though."