1664/Mutant Town Clean-up

Mutant Town Clean-up
Date of Scene:	14 May 2020
Location:	Bushwick <Mutant Town>
Synopsis:	A Civil Engineer meets a former cop, present day security expert in the aftermath of the latest sentinel attack. Jokes and pleasantries are exchanged. Some commentary is offered on the plight of meta-humans. Tea is ultimately shared, Fish and Chips eaten, and contact information exchanged. Max might have to check out 'STAR Labs'.
Cast of Characters:	Maxwell Wave, Cecily Winters

---

Maxwell Wave has posed:
Maxwell Wave is one of the fortunate denizens of Mutant City to have a university education. As a result, he has a responsibility to apply that education in ways to benefit the community. It's also what he gets paid for.

Max is a man in his early 20's, brown hair, and glowing eyes. Today, that glow is a faint blue which casts silhouettes about his person as he inspects a large pile of building rubble that use to be a store-front. He's wearing coveralls and also a hard hat, because safety first. Despite a lack of visible iris or retina, Max still manages to convey both a deep concern and deep disdain at the destruction surrounding him.

Holding up a clipboard, he takes a few notes as he descends a rubble pile of concrete and rebar. Half of a vase crunches underneath a work boot. He murmurs to himself, "First insults, then rotten food, and now they throw robots at us. Like Mutants don't have enough problems." His accent is from further west, he definitely doesn't sound like a son of New York. "Well.. from destruction comes rebirth I guess. Place was already a dump." Sigh.

Cecily Winters has posed:
    Once upon a time, a woman in a police uniform with the same face and body might have been seen now and then. She might have had a reputation as a 'good cop' but also a 'takes no shit' kind of cop, either. Regardless of whether or not Cecily's kindness earned her any favors in Mutant City, she's not quite the same woman, for good or for ill.

    She's not happy with the Sentinel attacks, nor the things that seem to follow in their wake. The destruction, the displacement, and of course people who would take advantage of the chaos. And though her face is the same, her attire is a far cry from the old NYPD uniform, clad in a professional skirt and jacket, a heavy bookbag slung over her shoulder, smart flats on her feet. And of course a mark that might make other mutants feel comfortable enough to not give her a wary eye: Fox ears and fox tails, the visible sign of some kind of mutation.

    There's a sigh as she pauses near the destroyed building, not too far from Max. Of course, she sees his hardhat, and glances up, making sure to keep a safe distance from anything above him. For the moment, she says nothing, just pursing her lips, a ghost of a smile rising at the corners when she catches his words.

Maxwell Wave has posed:
Max gazes up from his clipboard and offers Cecily a friendly smile. She seems very well dressed, even more so by Mutant town standards. Probably not a random thug looking to do more looting. He offers a brief wave and shambles over some more of the rubble, teetering briefly on a wood beam, then continuing his scramble until he draws closer. Along his journey, his eyes shift briefly in intensity and draw to a deep shade of blue.

"Evening, miss. Careful walking around in those flats. Debris is.. well everywhere, and we haven't managed to get everything swept up yet." He squints at her for a moment, the expression narrowing his eyes to glowing slits. His head tilts to the side, "You.. seem familiar but I can't place you. Have we met before?" His eyes widen, both hands raising, one holding a clipboard. "True curiosity. Not a cat call. Not a construction worker trying to harass you." He clarifies, because he'd seen his share of the behaviour.

Cecily Winters has posed:
    Cecily remains where she's standing, taking warnings to heed and not wishing to step on any toes in Max's domain. She does lift her free hand, wiggling her fingers in a greeting, the other firmly holding to the strap of her bookbag. She meets his eyes, especially as the colors shift. The laughs when he suddenly gets so gently defensive, and clearly she doesn't indicate that she took it the wrong way. Then she shakes her head at the query of famliarity. "I'm sure I would recall someone with such striking eyes, but I have seen my fair share of civil engineers in the last few decades."

    A quiet sigh escapes her though, as she looks past him and over at the rubble, again pursing her lips, "...and in this city, far too many for my tastes, no offense, dear."

Maxwell Wave has posed:
"Ah, yea.. I'm kind of hard to forget. That's true." He returns the laugh and rubs the back of his head with his free hand. He then offers her a solemn nod. "New York.. specifically Mutant Town.. is a hard and very busy gig for people like me. That's for sure. I definitely agree. No city should need this many of us, unless they are growing and thriving."

He sighs deeply and rests his hand on his hip as he scans his surroundings.

"People often forget this kind of destruction creates more victim. I mean... It's better than being injured, but this was someone's livelihood. Maybe their dream, and now.. it's on pause." He frowns and looks like he's about to continue the conversation, rambling on.. when a brief rumble and shift in the debris captures his attention. There's a collapse and a hunk of concrete and rebar, most boulder like, knocks itself loose and starts heading in there general direction in a tumble.

Max's eyes shift colours once more, becoming a more intense purple. As the boulder draws close, he focuses.. and boulder begins to float. In an almost child-like display, Max steps closer and taps it, like it was a bubble. The boulder changes direction and coasts back into the rubble pile, landing gently. "Pardon that! Things are still stabilizing."

Cecily Winters has posed:
    "Could be worse," Cecily muses, looking around. "...could be Gotham. New York City feels much less oppressive, doesn't it?" she offers, eyes cast skyward. At the mention of dreams on old and livelihood, she focuses her gaze back on the rubble near them, trying to suss out what this might have once been. Then the rumble, and the shifting debris. Her eyes flicker towards it, her ears lifting as she can hear it before she can see anything with those perked appendages. The sight of tumbling debris does seem almost comical, remnants of a life lurching towards them like a zombie made of steel and mortar.

    "Nice save," she says quietly, gentle smile on her lips. "You put your skills to good use, in a variety of ways it seems."

Maxwell Wave has posed:
"I haven't made out to Gotham. Maybe one day. I'm.. affected by the relocation." Max frowns a bit, "Maybe it's better.. then again. Lot of people here... who don't want to be here."

Max shrugs and then beams with some pride. "Since I can't really hide what I am, might as well do what I can do, huh?"

He gestures briefly to the ears and tail. "I'm sure you understand. Absolutely stunning by the way.. but I'm sure the 'normies' don't all see it that way. People are bad enough with foreigners and different skin colors. So in that way. Ya, maybe this is better than Gotham. I can buy a cheeseburger without getting stared at."

He nods firmly and turns to look at the rubble once more, then self-startles and turns to face her again. "Here I am talking your ear off, and I haven't even introduced myself. I'm Maxwell Wave. Pleasure to meet you, and apologies for plucking you off the side walk for a chat." He whispers conspiratorially, "The rubble is terrible at conversation."

Cecily Winters has posed:
    There's a nod, "I tend to get all over..." she starts, quietly, "...Gotham is very oppressive, even in the daylight. Very gothic architecture. Lots of shadows and alleys. If you ever do, there's a coffee shop downtown... don't go there. The tea is terrible," Cecily's head shakes.

    There's a bit of a playful grin on her lips, though, and her eyes roll up a little as if to look at her own foxy ears when Max brings them to attention. "Oh, yes. These are quite difficult to hide. But why would I want to? They're beautiful... and thank you for the compliment, dear. Though, I do suppose I don't mind being stared at. It's when things start flying that it gets bothersome..."

    A shake of her head, and a shrug, before she offers her hand when introductions finally begin. "Winters. Cecily Winters," she smiles, then withdraws her hand quickle to cover her mouth, stifling a noise that was a half-started laugh, but she can't hide the broader smile. "...careful, I've seen rubble that could walk and talk. And speaking of buying a cheeseburger, I was contemplating a meal. And a decent mug of tea. But I don't mind conversation."

Maxwell Wave has posed:
Cecily clearly gains a few point in Max's book because she laughed at his jokes. His terrible jokes. He nods in agreement at the professed beauty of her ears and winces at the comment regarding 'things start flying', nodding his head in empathy. He shakes her hand with friendly firmness, his eyes raising. "Talking rubble? Well, I guess if you can think of it, it's probably happened before."

He releases her hand and rubs his chin as he gazes back at the rubble and his notes. "I think I have everything I need to plan the rest of the demo and prep the new construction. So I wouldn't mind keeping the conversation going. We've got a few options, though I'm not sure if anyone serves good tea. Let alone good coffee. The whole 'beggars can't be choosers' dilemma isn't making Mutant Town a hot spot for foodies, I'm afraid."

He offers a sheepish shrug then gazes around. "Couple of pubs in walking distance, and Fred's diner. Also the occasional street vendor if you like hotdogs."

Cecily Winters has posed:
    "Well there was the Fantastic Four business some years ago... if we're talking about talking rubble..." Cecily suggests, shoulders lifting with a small shrug. She folds her hands at her waist, fingers lacing as she glances around the site again. "What was it? What will it be again?" she idly queries, "I'm afraid I don't make it down here as often as I probably should..."she says with a soft sigh in her exhale.

    "Tea does seem a difficulty anywhere, let alone good tea. World runs on coffee, not tea..." she laments, then gives Max a playful, lopsided smile. "I generally prefer tacos myself, if given the choice... but a pub should generally have decent food, right?"

Maxwell Wave has posed:
"Oh right.. The Thing! I guess he would qualify as talking rubble, but I sure wouldn't as well say that to the guy." He follows her gaze toward the rubble, "It was a store. Re-seller from things you might find in Chinatown and other places in New York. Good place to buy something unique if the rest of the city isn't open to you for one reason or another. It'll be a store again, and brand new. That's the one good thing about all of this. Every destroyed building is a new building that's up to code.. and safer for everyone."

"Well we've definitely got taco trucks.. but you know, there is a pub no far away that claims to be English. So maybe they've got some Earl Gray or something." He waves her along to follow, after a few minutes of walking, sure enough, there's a red door with the Union Jack painted haphazardly on the outside.

He opens the door for her and then follows her inside. It's a narrow establishment, a bar running along one wall and booths taking up the others. The waitress looks fairly normal except for having quills for hair. Max will hold up two fingers to indicate the number on their party. She grabs two menus and leads them along to a booth.

Cecily Winters has posed:
     "I do suppose that would be rude. But I do feel like calling him 'The Thing' is also somewhat off-color..." Cecily muses aloud, smirking. "Ah, but that is a good outcome. So long as the rents aren't raised higher for it. Little renovations can go a long way in making this a nicer home for all who reside here..." That smirk remains, as perhaps the playful double entendre isn't registered. Or is just ignored outright.

    "One can hope," the kitsune nods, following with a little sway of her hips that adds an extra swish of those three tails. She has control over them, it seems, as she doesn't appear to have any issues getting them safely in the door and out of the way of Max. The sight of the quilled waitress earns a nod and her small, gentle smile remains firmly upon her lips, as she follows to their seat. Again, with the tails, she slides in and they drape over her lap, her bookbag placed against the wall where it can be safe.

Maxwell Wave has posed:
Max certainly couldn't help but watch the swish of the tails as she slid into the booth. Just a little amused, he sits across from her. "It doesn't seem like a great moniker does it? As for the rent, well.. Mutant Town isn't gentrifying anytime soon, so I'm not worried about the rent going up too much. Insurance might be a real pain in the ass though.. But yea, silver lining."

He takes a menu from the waitress, quickly scans it, then orders two cups of tea. The waitress rolls hers eyes a little bit and says, "I'll get the box." She returns with what so many restaurants have.. a box of individually wrapped bag tea. No loose-leaf here. Tea snobs weep.

Max's eyes widen suddenly, causing a brief flare of light, as he comes to the realization that he's still wearing his hardhat. He removes it swiftly, sets it beside himself in the booth and then does his best to rescue his scalp from helmet hair. He soon gives up though. "Soo.. you know what I do for a living, what about you, Miss Winters?"

Cecily Winters has posed:
    "Here's hoping that the new building brings more warmth to the city," Cecily says with a nod. "...and that injuries were minimal when it went down like that..." she then shakes her head. First a nod. THen a shake. Then she just sits back in the booth, comfortable but still the faintest bit rigid.

    And then, ah, the ever-present mixed-bag of restaurant tea. Sometimes just Lipton. Sometimes a small variety. But there has to be the odd sachet of Earl Grey, right? If there is, Cecily finds it. And asks the waitress for cream and honey.

    That amused smirk comes when Max tries to correct his lapse in headwear, but she doesn't point, poke fun, or laugh. Instead, she lets him recoup his dignity, and steeples her fingers on the table as she's asked the question. "Mmm? I'm in the business of private security solutions, dear," and leaves it at that vagueness for the moment.

Maxwell Wave has posed:
Max copies her order including the cream and honey. He didn't drink much tea, so might as well copy the pro. "From what I understand, the build was evacuated before it came down.. Thank God or whoever you believe in."

He squints at her, those glowing eyes once more becoming slits of light. He repeats her answer, stewing over each word as they roll off his tongue. "Private... Security... Solutions."

His brow furrows as he tries to puzzle out what that might mean. "So, you are either a consultant for security hardware: cameras and things, someone who -breaks- into places, or a bodyguard."

A hot kettle of water is set on the table by the waitress along with two mugs. He fills both their cups displaying some decent manners then drops his tea bag into the water, not yet touching the cream and honey. "I don't take you for the criminal type.. so going to rule out the second one. You also seem very professional.. Could be the first one." He hums deeply, folding his arms on the table. "You've got one of those 'I've seen it all' smirks though. It's a toss up, you carry yourself like someone with experience, could be either."

Cecily Winters has posed:
    One hopes they have cream and honey here. But it turns out they do. And Cecily is pleased. She also seems pleased to know that loss of life was kept to a zero sum, but also refrains from talkking religion. It's that thoughtful expression, that look of concentration, and those suggestions that Maxwell gives that makes her crack just enough to grin. But the vixen holds her slience, waiting for the waitress to come and go, even bowing her head politely when her water is filled by her companion. She plunks her tea in and sits back again.

    "I used to be a cop," she says with a wistful lilt in her voice and a sideways smile "And then things changed. I changed. Everything changed," she sighs. "Yes, I'm a bodyguard now. But it's not a 24/7 position. So I let my restless feet carry me around. Sometimes doing jobs for my parents, if they need a hand, or just seeing that the city I grew up in is just a little bit brighter."

Maxwell Wave has posed:
"Oh.. A police officer." Max leans back and crosses his arms over his chest. "I'm terrible at picking out officers outside of uniform."

He offers a sad smile as he takes a wild guess to why she's not a police officer anymore. "Well, if you enjoyed it, maybe it can happen again. I know it can be hard. Being different.. it uh.. puts all kinds of weird pressures on people's careers. I, myself, graduated not long ago from Stanford.. dual degrees in Mechanical Engineering and Physics if you can believe it."

His shoulders slump a little bit, "And now here I am, low-balled salary in a ghetto of New York.. but in some ways, I'm lucky. My work is helping people.. instead of just making the richer feel richer."

He smiles toward her, toying with his tea bag. "Sounds like you get a bit of that still.. So, have you gotten to be the bodyguard for any celebs? You know.. like Bruce Wayne! You did mention Gotham before."

Cecily Winters has posed:
    "Actually, I resigned... I didn't want to put that kind of pressure on my friends, and it was right after so much had happened.." Cecily lifts her teabag from the cup, idly twirling the thread around her fingertip. "I consider myself lucky, regardless," she states quietly. Then nods, "We end up where we're needed, when we're needed. Or we can at least hope that happens, yes?" she offers, that dreamy look fading from her as she sits up straight again and proceeds to add her 'condiments' to her tea.

    "I have had some high profile clients, yes," she admits. "But you wouldn't know it. Wouldn't see me. I don't wear a cape and tights or anything of the sort, obviously..." she chuckles quietly. "And I prefer it that way, honestly. Let the big and bright heroes be stars, so people can see that we're not all bad. Strange? Maybe. Unique? Absolutely. But not bad, not all of us..." she lays her teabag down on her spoon and takes a drink, eyes closing, ears laying against her head.

    Still better than the tea she had in Gotham. Maybe because it was a blend she liked. Maybe because it tasted like home.

Maxwell Wave has posed:
"Ah, well.. You are a very kind and caring person then. Honoured to have met you. Not everyone thinks about their friends like that." He compliments before doctoring and sipping his own tea. His eyes widen just a touch in delight, deciding he likes it this way.

He raises an eyebrow as he leans forward. He seems interested in who her high profile clients, but he declines in prying more. He's a smart enough boy to know it's probably not any of his business. "Not all bad at all. Most of us are decent people. Though, put pressure on even good people, and bad things can happen.. It is nice to have the capes being role models for everyone. Sometimes I dream about doing it myself. Being a hero.. But I'm still a kid in a lot of people's eyes, maybe when I grow up, huh?"

The rest of the meal is quiet with pleasant chit-chat. Max will share a little bit about his home life back in Illinois before relocating to NYC. He'll ask about tea but keep things light-hearted. Food is eventually ordered, and at the end of it all, he'll share some contact information.

"Who knows, maybe you'll need an engineer for some job. I'm pretty good. Promise!"

Cecily Winters has posed:
    "I can be," Cecily admits, "but not always. I do what I can, when I can, within my means," she shrugs, taking another drink of her tea. She seems amused that her new acquaintance is enjoying it as well, though. She doesn't add too much more to Max's musings, but at the end, she nods, smiling, "Growing up... well I look younger than I am... but don't ever ask a lady her age, mm?" she winks. As for the meal, she had ordered something one has to from any English pub ever. She just had to get some fish and chips. To see how it was, good or bad, of course. For a future visit.

    "An engineer? I do think STAR Labs is always looking for personnel, but I can't speak on what exactly or how. Or if you'd be able to do the same kind of frontline outreach you're doing now," Cecily shrugs, but takes down his information. She hands a business card over. It's all white, with a stylized fox in a metallic black, and tucked away in a corner is a phone number.