17275/In the Wrong Hands - Intro

In the Wrong Hands - Intro
Date of Scene:	25 February 2024
Location:	Coffee House, Berlin 1976
Synopsis:	In the 70's Alfred and Kenesha meet up for a joint assignment to keep alien tech out of the wrong hands
Cast of Characters:	Kenesha, Alfred Pennyworth

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Kenesha has posed:
October 12, 1976
Cafe Kranzier
3:06pm

Kenesha wasn't at all sure about this. While the rest of her team were off on another mission, she'd been tapped to infiltrate a small group of Russian agents seeking a piece of technology, to ensure that they don't get their hands on it. She's been undercover with the group for three weeks, just finally starting to be involved in their operations after being sent on a bunch of little bullshit missions in order to show her 'loyalty' and prove that she's not some spy. And now that she's finally started to get their trust, now is when the US government wants her to make contact with a British operative.

She sighs heavily, but internally, externally keeping a calm and placid demeanor as she stirs a spoonful of honey into the mug of Russian Caravan tea she's just received from the barista. Glancing around, ostensibly to find a spot to enjoy the tea, but also to see if her contact is here already.

She's dressed appropriately for the age and season in a knee-length navy blue overcoat with fur at the collar and a belt at the waist, matching wideleg slacks, and a pair of low-heeled boots appropriate for the season. The scarf around her head is a common paisley pattern in bright red white and blue. The outfit would be a few years dated in the states, but is still considered de rigeur here in Soviet Russia. The bright red silk poppy flower button is the signal to her contact that she is who he is meeting.

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
Alfred Pennyworth walks in exceptionally relaxed looking but anything but. Initial thoughts at MI6 were that this woman was a KGB agent and only the CIA and multiple heated sessions had convinced them to back off. Friends of Alfred's had done the analysis and he had every reason to trust them. As it was, the technology was far too dangerous to get into Russian hands, so yet again the isalnd nation had to give way to her larger peer. He walked into the coffee shop and searched for the description he had been given. Well, at least she was easy on the eyes, then gain, all the most dangerous ones were. He should know, he'd had enough of htem try to kill him.

He walks towards the table she's at and says, "That's a lovely carnation, what color was it when you bought it?" Of course he knows what flower type it is, but the whole point of prpper code phrase isnt something stupid like waring one red shoe to identify contact to avoid random idiots getting swept up into the game. Pennyworth had seen enough people get killed that way, and he wasnt about to do that here.

Kenesha has posed:
Looking up, Kenesha hides her surprise at the youth of the man approaching her and speaking the coded phrase. She supposes it makes a certain amount of sense. Two young people meeting by chance are less likely to be remarked upon. At least, young-appearing. She's anything but, though if all goes to plan... none of them will ever know that.

"Oh, this old thing? My mother gave it to me for my fourteenth birthday. It was yellow when she wore it." The warm and inviting smile is at odds with the perfect Central Russian accent that would place her as being from Moscow to even the most well-trained ear. She motions for him to take a seat while she sips from her tea, waiting for him to join her before murmuring, "I do appreciate the punctuality. There are at least three Russian operatives in and around this shop.. one of the baristo's, the patron in the trilby, and I believe one of the panhandlers outside as well. It's been most uncomfortable."

Then she's smiling at him once more, "I do hope you're still interested in meeting mother. She would hate to let me go off on an excursion without meeting my escort." The signal that the safehouse is prepped and ready for them, a small apartment buried away in the city where they can more safely go over intel and plan the next move. "I tried to tell her that I would be fine on my own, but you know how mothers get."

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
Alfred Pennyworth has a well trained ear, and the accent almost sounds too perfect. Its Moscow neutral, like what a new caster might use; and while some might ahve it, someone who had an absolutely perfect desire to SPEAK perfect russian might also have it. If she has that accent, maybe she isnt russian after all. He sits down but is still cautious. His friend gave him the tip after all and he is loyal to them, "I find that people who arent punctual are eitehr artists, women who are deliberately timing their entrance or the rude. The latter I cannot abide and thus make sure I never count myself among them." He is alarmedthat they are already on her trail. They are in the French quarter which is the least secure of the allied controlled areas. Technically they were all unified but echoes from the original control still linger. "There is a back entrance to this place?" He says quelty with a whisper only she can hear but chuckles, "Yes I think your mother would be a very interesting person to meet." The safehouse is good, tat means if they can lose t his tail they can discuss more direct matters. "I do....they can be...maternal, too much soo for their own good."

Kenesha has posed:
He's not wrong, about any of those things. She's not Russian, though anyone would be hard-pressed to prove that. And the Moscow accent is simply too prevalent to be anything but suspicious in a so-called spy. Kenesha chose her cover with care, ensuring every aspect of it would hold up to prolonged scrutiny, but would still hold enough clues for the right people to piece together.

Kenesha gives a small nod as she sips from her tea, her eyes briefly flitting towards a small hallway beyond the counter. "The restrooms are in the rear. Once we've washed our hands, we can head to mother's. She's looking forward to meeting you." A quick smile is aimed at him, "Shall we meet outside?" A subtle suggestion that they shouldn't both be seen going to the back, but that she'll meet him outside, giving him a chance to ensure there's no tails. Then they can head to the safehouse together.

Finishing her tea, she sets the mug on the table and rises up, pulling on a pair of gloves to match the boots, "I'll see you shortly." Offering a smile towards him, Kenesha turns and heads for the front door, leaving him to sneak out the back.

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
Alfred Pennyworth ods and listens, and as she comes up with a plan to get out and around, he takes that suggestion and nods, "Yes, I'll step out for a cigarette..." since he smokes then, despite knowing its bad for him. He strands and stretches, not looking at the russians but keeping them in the perephial of his vision and feeling the weight of his pistol keenly in his jacket pocket.

He doesnt want it to get biolent in pbluc, but it wouldnt be the first time. He stands at the designated place and waits a bit longer to see if she gets clear as he smokes.

Kenesha has posed:
Kenesha will head outside and around, leading the 'panhandler' tail on a bit of a merry chase before losing him betwen alleys and stepping back out from the alley she'd stepped into at the side of the coffeehouse. Approaching Alfred, there's a smile as she reaches up to tuck one arm through his so they can continue on to the safehouse. "There. Hands washed and we're all set!"

The trip to the safehouse isn't overly long, though it takes them down a number of side streets that would make it very apparent if they were still being followed. Kenesha doesn't seem bothered by the cigarette smoke, though she does suggest, "A pipe might suit you a little better, and the tobacco is certainly of a better quality." It's unclear if she's teasing him or being serious in the suggestion.

When they arrive at the apartment building, it doesn't look like anything special, the same as four other apartment buildings they've already passed. But the apartment itself is a corner apartment so has the best view of street and alley, two floors from the top, allowing for easy roof access if needed.

And the apartment itself is normal for safehouses. Little in the way of conveniences or comforts, but it has all the necessary amenities... even a proper tea set, if a bit dinged nad scratched from years of use. And of course, there's an interior 'office' that has been converted into a sort of 'war room'. There's maps, surveillance photos, bios of targets (members of the spy group in this case), documents from both the US and UK regarding the tech they're after. And that's to say nothing of the radio equipment and anti-surveillance equipment.

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
Alfred Pennyworth walks with her as if its the most natural thing in the world, defintely enjoying the warm hip in contrast to the cool crips autum air, "A pipe? My father has a pipe..." he chuckled but isnt entirely opposted to the idea, "Maybe if I ever become a section cheif." HE keeps a close eye on his surroundings at all times. He is patient and does also include her in that thing he pays attention to. He definitely sees the tea set and proceeds to start to make some so he can sip it while observing the collected intel.

"Strong set up here? your work or the boys at Langley?"

Kenesha has posed:
Unbelting her coat, she shrugs out of it and the scarf covering her hair, tossing both over a battered easy chair in the living room. Running a hand through her hair, Kenesha chuckles, "Section chief? You would *want* to leave fieldwork behind to drive a desk?" She can't imagine spending any real amount of time just sitting at a desk. Being out in the field is vastly more interesting!

"There's Earl Grey and Oolong, though I expect you'll fall more towards the Earl Grey." Kenesha flashes a quick smile before shaking her head, "Oh no, this is all Langley, I'm just the latest occupant. Though I did pick up the tea set when I found out my contact would be British. I know you enjoy a good cuppa." She motions towards the 'office' and adds, "Also, your people made some files available to us in addition to the files we're sharing with you. It's all in the war room. Along with all the intel I've gathered about the group we're trying to stop. They're some nasty customers, but nothing that can't be handled. Their hardware is alright, but not top of the line, we're running scramblers so any bugs in the building won't pick up anything in here."

Leaning a hip against the counter, her arms fold across her chest, "How much do you know about what we're after?"

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
Alfred Pennyworth hangs up his trench coat, scarf and wide brim hat. "I've seen too many good men pulled out of the field, so I'm imagining that I wont be able to say no to them if they make me do it. I am good at what I do and fighting it as long asI can" e smiles and pours tea, sipping it. "WEll a good hostess is worth her weight in gold" His eyes twinkle and he seems tofinally actally relax since the first time they met, "I mean is anything Russian not sent to space worth a damn? Their curroption is in everything....and I know the basics of it," he strengteches, flexing a sore shoulder and arm, as he sips tea, "Alien, weaponsry but more specifics are always good.

Kenesha has posed:
"Don't look at me, they'll never get me behind a desk. I couldn't do it, not after the excitement of being in the field." Kenesha chuckles lightly as she lifts a shrug. She knows she can avoid it, but acknowledges that it does seem to be the ultimate 'reward' for good fieldwork. Smiling, she dips a nod towards Alfred, "Thank you, I do try." The flexing has her lifting a brow, "Injury?" before moving on to the task at hand. "It's not technically a weapon. It's a power source, but the type of power means it could be used as a weapon.. or worse, reverse engineered to create some truly terrible weapons." Pausing briefly, she tacks onto the end with a grin, "As for things of Russian make that are not spacebound but still worth a damn... the AK-47. It is still one of the most reliable weapons regardless of its age."

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
Alfred Pennyworth says, "Well I've faced enough of the damn things to know that those do in fact work pretty good" he chuckles and nods, "Cant argue about that...and only a sprain....in the line of duty and all that. And a power source is worse than a weapon because they can weaponize it and more. Definteily something we need to keep out of their hands."

Kenesha has posed:
Kenesha clucks her tongue and moves to the kitchen, opening a cabinet to pull out a first aid kit, letting it sit on the counter while she pulls a roll of ACE bandage from within. Turning, she pulls open the icebox door to pluck out an ice pack. Elbowing the door closed, she approaches him with intent and gives a stern, "Stay put." The ice pack is settled onto his shoulder as she starts unwinding the bandage to wrap around it, moving with efficiency and skill.

"I need you at your best. Can't have your reactions slowed by a sprain." She looks sidelong at him and quirks a faint smile, "30 minutes with the ice pack, then we apply heat and *you* rest." Kenesha gives a small, taunting grin, "Unless you think you can't get a plan knocked out in half an hour?"

Drawing the bandage across his chest, she'll tie it off under the opposite arm, stepping back, "Tada. No using that arm until after the heat's been applied. Gotta get the swelling down on the muscles and tendons, then loosen them up with the heat. Won't fix it, but it should keep you loose enough we can get through the next day." Kenesha pulls a chair over and seats herself opposite him, "The group I've infiltrated, they have a lead on the power source. We're supposed to check it out in the morning. MY intel says that the location we're checking... is right. Old wartime bunker the Germans built when they first tried to push into Russia. Supposedly it's there along with a bunch of other artifacts, paintings.. maybe even more tech. In either case, we can't let them get to it first. There's crews from both the UK and the US that are going to hit the bunker... we're supposed to stall the Russians. Keep them away from the bunker while the covert ops guys go in and recover the items." Kenesha puts the heel of one boot up on the edge of the chair, hooking an arm around her knee as she smiles at him.

"Now, we both know that each side is going to try to get to the source first. Cooperation only goes so far. Personally, I'm of the opinion something like that doesn't belong in anyone's hands. Alien tech is.. well, alien. The potential for things to go horribly wrong are just too high. So.. wanna beat everyone to the bunker and help me get rid of the power source? Intel, artifacts, paintings... you're welcome to everything else. But we can't let any country get this power source. It's just too dangerous." She watches him closely, trying to gauge his reaction.

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
Alfred Pennyworth grumbles a bit but lets her administer the first aid. He has been pushing himself too hard for weeks and is paying for it now. There are plenty of agents, but only so many with his clearance, and lately that has been stretched to the breaking point. "If it takes longer than 30 minutes we're probably just smelling our own farts anyway...." He is aware that there is more at play here, but he is aware of it, and tracking her, very closely as she moves around the room so assumes that is a form of control Its the closest he can do when he is in light pain anyway.

He thinks on this last statement, "I think it depends on the tech. We wouldnt have won the Big War without some outside intervention and help, and we've borrowed a lot from the elder races over the years if what I read between the cracks in the files is right, but I've seen enough messes that it depends...a power source? This power source?" He sighs, "Probably yes." Speaking it aloud is treason, he isnt a fan of it, but while he has no worries about anyone in the agency, the current government, or the one in the wings terrify him with that kind of power. Too willing to use it like a hammer and a nail. He checks internally, to make sure he is himself and his emotions are in check but its as cold a reason as he has ever had. They are not raedy for some things.

Kenesha has posed:
Chuckling softly, she murmurs, "More than most people know. But that was at discretion... and to be very blunt, the cost of some of those experiments... the lives lost to them... it was too high." Kenesha pauses for a moment, then shakes her head and looks back to Alfred, "Think of it this way... the atom bomb, the H-bomb... they're bad enough. At least they're wholly human inventions. How much worse will they be if they're powered by alien tech that's well outside the scope of human understanding?"

Kenesha clears her throat and murmurs, "I can get us there before anyone else. Before any of the others even start to mobilize. It's a German bunker, though, and most of the codes are with MI6. Think you can put in a few discreet calls, pull in some favors? If we can get the codes for the bunker, we can bypass most of the security. I can get us through the rest. We grab the power source and dispose of it... and you can secure the bunker for the UK. We can say that the intel was bad, no power source found... you get whatever else is in there." She flashes a quick, wry smile, "I know.. sounds treasonous to the US, but frankly, the British will treat the art and artifacts with better care."

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
Alfred Pennyworth says, "If we were in England, I'd just show up and look them up. I have physical keys to almost every facility we have." He grins sardonically, "Don't ask why. Long story. But now? Let me see where it is. There are bunkers and then there are bunkers." Assuming she does, he scratches his chin for a few moments in deep thought, "That looks....familiar." He sits deep in thought for a few moments, "I know that place....PT22...." He piicks up the phone, "Lyle....do you remember that old Hydra bunker you told me about from 45? The one in Berlin? Yes...thats it...I need some of the old codes....no, I cant say why, were on an unsecured line....Yes, I can....alright give me the number."

He begins dialing another number, "I can get us the keys to the kingdom in one. We got lucky. Very lucky." After a few moments he speaks into the phone, "Yes, this is a Dimsdale scenario. No, not literally thank God, we dont need another 30 foot rodent running around but its about as bad if we dont nip it in the bud right now. Yes, of course, writing now. Yes. Yes." He writes several numbers down ,"And the inner gate? PErfect. Thanks Lyle. I owe you a case when I get back home."

He hangs up the phone and looks at her, "I have good news and bad news, which do you want first?""

Kenesha has posed:
Grinning at him, Kenesha nods, "I knew I was right about you. Not the first time I've heard your name. Always the same, that you're a stand-up sort, straight arrow, but with a strong sense of right and wrong. And you'll exercise your own judgment when called for." She leans back to let him work his magic, rising only get him the information on the bunker. Location, name, who ran it during the war, what was being done there during the war... and after. The files are US, UK, French, German... she has a *ridiculous* amount of information about the bunker and it's contents.

While he makes his calls, she gets up to refresh the tea, pouring for him while he's writing, and setting the cup and saucer at his elbow. Returning to her own seat, she sips on her tea with a smile as he gets information from Lyle. The mention of a 30 foot roden thas her chuckling softly, though she doesn't do or say anything to interrupt. Lifting a brow at him question, she chuckles, "Start with the bad, end with the good. If there's a good ending, I can listen to just about anything."

She settles in, legs crossing as she waits to hear the bad news, still sipping her tea and managing to look quite British despite the whole working for the US government things.

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
Alfred Pennyworth :glances down at the legs, and smiles looking back up. Its the perfect amount of time, long enough to acknowledge the ision of loviness and not long enough to be...distracted to the point of being torn from the mission. "Well, while I appreciate the compliment, there's a reason for it. My family is a long line of Butlers, which requires a commitment to values but also discretion. My father and grandfather let themselves be a little bit too wrapped up in the attempts to do the right thing at the expesne of the bigger picture and I promised myself I wouldnt do that. Dont get me wrong, I bat for the home team 110 percent, but I imagine the worst idiot I can cutting the ribbon on a half built plant where they cut costs and cut corners on a technology they dont understand and....yeah. Not good."

He shudders. His Grandfather told him about things that the LEague of Extraordinary Gentmen had to deal with and he tries not to think about it.

"Right, bad news is that his gate here" he points to it, "has no bypass. Its why Hydra liked it, and there is no amount of sneaking, code breaking or combinations that lets us bypass it. Three men and three men alone hold the key and they knoow everyone by sight. There just isnt a way around it. The good news," he points to a long side shaft running paralell to the main, "is that if we can bypass this, we can run in, grab what we need and be out before we get killed by numbers ten times our own, but its a tight schedule....once we let them know we're there, we're locked in to the risk.

Kenesha has posed:
Kenesha lifts a brow and grins at him for his notice of her legs. When his gaze returns to hers, she winks at him. Not shy about returning the appreciation, though she likewise doesn't let it interfere with the task at hand. "Ahhhhhhhh, a family that lives to serve. Loyalty is an excellent quality, as is dedication, but I'm glad that you take it with a dose of logic, and a broader view." She gives a nod, "Even the greatest minds can get so focused in on what they *want* to do that they lose sight of the forest for the trees. All it ever takes is just a moment of distraction, or hesitation, or even just... not taking a moment to step back and look at it and ask yourself if you *should* proceed." She motions towards him with a nod, perfect example!

"I've seen what some of these bits of alien technology can do to people. it's... it's haunting." Kenesha pauses again for a moment, then clears her throat to move on.

She looks over the blueprint with it's attached pictures, a faint smile quirking her lips at the bad news. Glancing back at him, that smile grows, "See, this is why bad news first. You want *my* good news?" Presuming he affirms, she continues, "I can get us past that gate. If you can get us through the rest, I can get us past that one. And we can get in there before the joint task force descends and all Hell breaks loose." Kenesha looks at him steadily, "The 'bad' new is.. you'll have to trust me to get past it."

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
Alfred Pennyworth arches a brow but this merely confirms his growing suspicions that the expert on alien tech might not be human. Of course she could be a scientist or time displaced but...it doesnt FEEL like that. The confidence is alluring, but dangerous, "Well, the alternativ eis both of us act like idiots and botch the job, " he pauses and smiled, "which isnt much of a choice at all is it?"

"Though for what its worth, I think there is a difference between holding back the secrets of how to use a technology from people who dont know how to use it, and technology you plan to use on an operation; but it sounds like you have been burned in the past, so I'm willing to humor your needs in this instance. Just saying," he grins and shrugs, looking at the map and curious about her answer.

Kenesha has posed:
Kenesha chuckles lightly and shakes her head, "No choice at all. I can abide most anything, but idiots are not one of them." She lets out a heaving and very over-dramatized sigh, lifting a big shrug with arms flopping akimbo, "Well! Then there's nothing for it, we'll simply have to be two reasonably intelligent, witty agents and get the job done in an efficient manner." She snaps her fingers, "Damn, and here I was hoping we could just... laze about and let it all sort itself out." Here she pauses to glance at him, see if he's buying into the very overblown act. Fighting back a grin.

Nodding, she leans back into her chair and smiles at him, "I agree. That said, when the technology is still so advanced as to be akin to magic... then perhaps humanity still needs to grow a bit more before they're ready to properly utilize said technology. That does not, however, mean that all efforts to learn and grow shouldn't be encouraged whenever possible. And sometimes, sometimes a mind comes along that's able to think beyond their race's current limitations. Those rare individuals should be shown, so they can help to usher in new ages of enlightenment and growth." Pausing, she offers her own grin and shrug, "Let's say that I have a lot of experience despite my apparent youthfulness."

Kenesha leans in towards him, catching his gaze, a smile quirking at her lips as she pitches her voice lower to murmur, "Now that we have a plan, we should..." she pauses for a few moments before finishing, "change that ice pack out for some heat to loosen your muscles..."

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
Alfred Pennyworth looks serious a moment, "I knew a fellow, must have been have had a power, because the world danced to his tune, thats al he did was laze about all day and wait for thing sto happen..and they did. Awfully popular too, but for the rest of us mortals," he grins, "We need to work at it. He is fascinated at her phislophy on enlightenment, because he has a rare window into something greater, and is drawn to it; curious that he has seen hints of or read about in files. He is curious about the age comment, but a lifetime of manners teaches him not to even remotely follow up on the question of her age, though he is quite curious.

He coughs at the murmer and nods, "Er...yes, of course. Loosening is....important."

Kenesha has posed:
"He might well have had a power to affect those around him, to make destiny dance to his tune," Kenesha chuckles and shrugs. "Probability is less difficult to influence than one might think." She smiles at him and stands, her hands moving to remove the bandage, unwinding it efficiently.. though she perhaps takes a bit more time with it than is strictly necessary in doing it. The ice pack is pulled from his shoulder and tossed back into the ice box before she sets the bandage aside to dry and return to it's original shape.

Kenesha smiles towards him and offers, "If you can withstand the impropriety... I have some Ben-Gay in the first aid kit, I could rub it into your shoulder and arm, we can have some dinner, then get some rest?" Pausing, she adds, "Supper would have to be called out, though. Afraid I'm not much of a cook. I can make edible food, but I can't promise it would be particularly appetizing..." One corner of her mouth twitches upward and she adds, "You can even ask some of those questions that I can see swimming behind your eyes and building up behind your teeth. You'll have to live with the answers, though."

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
Alfred Pennyworth chuckles, "I actaully happen to be quite the sheff. I dont mind cooking at all if you dont mind it one handed. Servants know how to cook and my family is no exception" his eyes twinkle, "And officially I register protest at the improprity of your thoughts but unofficially I am going to be shooting people with that arm and it makes a damn bit of good sense for me to have it functional, yes?" He chuckles, "And I dont mind living with odd answers. We just met, so you tell me what makes you comfortable but bear in mind if its too important I'll have to report it up the chain of command." He sighs, while he might have discretion, there are limits to bending, to the point of breaking. But if he leaves it up to her, its her own judgement.

Kenesha has posed:
"Ah, excellent! Then I will tend to you and you can tend to dinner. And while we eat, you can interrogate me to your heart's content." Kenesha chuckles at the choice of terms, then grins at his official protest registered. "Very well, I have taken your protest into account, but as the ranking medic here and now... your objection is overruled in favor of your need to operate at peak efficiency. Now... down to the undershirt, if you don't mind. And behave yourself or I'll hide the Earl Grey and leave you with only the Oolong." There's a quick grin and a wink for him.

Chuckling as she watches him, Kenesha shrugs, "You can tell your people whatever you want. Chances are good some of them already know. Who knows, after this mission, you may be elevated to a whole new level of top secret access. Or you could be told to simply keep it all to yourself and never tell a soul what you've learned. It's a 50/50 shot these days."

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
Alfred Pennyworth winces. The problem with being an agent is that one interacts with other agents, w ho tend to know how to cut to the proverbial quck. oolong. The idea....

He does, however, wink in return....

"The only level of access I dont have are the codes that make things go boom, so if I get access to a knew one that's news to me." There were, in fact, five levels above him that he didnt know about, but, thats because people who did know them tended to need to know...

"Well, let's start with the obvious. People comfortable with technology beyond the normal ken are either outsiders....time traverlers or aliens, or scientists....you havent once talked about the power of knowledge or harped on about how you can invent a gadget to get us in, which means that you work with tech but dont live it as a lifestyle....and you dont really have that vacant feeling that time travelrs tend to have nor a hint of nostalgia, which means most likely..." he points up. "Tell me about where you are from." Stories are fare more interesting to him than facts. What a person tells about themselves as a story, tells more about them than either the story or the most thorough dossier.

He does, however, follow medical advice.

Kenesha has posed:
Grinning as she moves to the first aid kit, taking up a flexible metal tube of Ben-Gay to be used on Alfred. Chuckling over his deductions, Kenesha leans a hip against the counter, then grins at him. "I guess you'll find out, won't you." Because he's going to ask, and she's going to tell him!

His deductions earn him a grin and a lifted hand that wobbles from one side to the other before giving a nod, "You're right, and wrong. I *am* an alien. I'm also a scientist. I've learned to live without the level of technology I was raised with because humanity quite simply hasn't gotten to it yet. Not even close." But! He's asked for a story, though she could have hoped for a better subject. "Khera is my homeworld. A place of extremely advanced technology, advanced enough that it would be akin to magic here. My people are the Kherans, or the Kherubim, either works. Khera is beautiful, as are its inhabitants. At least, externally. Originally colonists from another ancient race, my grandmother was amongst them. When they landed on Khera, they brought peace to the world and to it's inhabitants, the Titanothropes. When it became clear that they were genetically compatible, my people began to mate and breed with the Titanothropes, resulting in the first true Kherans... like my mother. I am a product of a rare union between two Kherans. I say rare because my people are biologically immortal, but also nearly completely infertile. There are only a handful of children born in a given generation." She looks towards him with a faint smile, "We have interstellar travel, highly advanced technology, and racial abilities that would put us into the 'meta' class of people were we not already aliens. We come from an entirely different galaxy, one that humans cannot currently reach."

As she speaks, she watches him disrobe (only the top half!) down to his undershirt, moving forward to help ease the shirt away before he can jostle the sprained shoulder. Kenesha opens the tube and smears two lines of the cream onto his shoulder before both hands are there, spreading the cream across his skin and working it in with small kneading gestures of her fingers. The menthol scent is unmistakable, first cooling, then heating up as she continues to work it into his skin as she recounts her homeworld and people. "What else would you like to know?"

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
Alfred Pennyworth listens to the fascinating window into an alien world and shakes his head, "Above my paygrade, but sounds interesting. I suppose I am more curious about what your culture is like they are long lived but low on empathy...what would art be like in such a situation?" He grunts as she applies the pressure and release on the wound, as the toxins slowly release increasing the rate of healing. His mind is both on the current situation and the fascinating ramifications of a culture that looks human but is entirely different. In all his imaginations of aliens from outerspace, that possibility (despite production saving costs in Hollywood) had never really ruly occurred to him. But with infinite stars out there, why wouldnt something like that be possible?

Kenesha has posed:
"Conquerors and warlords are every bit as capable of creating art as the most empathetic pacifist... we have amazing works of art, music. There's a place called the Coincidental Mansion... it's run on technology that directly alters probability and chance for entertainment purposes. A sculpture in the Bay of Numbers comprised of grains of sand that are continually shaping and reshaping themselves into constantly changing geometric forms, the order and placement of them never repeated. And then there's the Kheran Dream Engine... it literally changes reality to make thoughts and dreams real. We use it for entertainment." Kenesha continues to work his shoulder firmly but carefully, kneading the muscles until she can feel the knots unwinding and the muscles themselves firming up.

She glances over his shoulder to offer a quick smile, "We have instruments, vocalists... musical groups and soloists. Artists, sculpters, painters... they may use more advanced means than Earth artists but they still create for the enjoyment of themselves and others."

Alfred may find his shoulder feeling much better than it normally would, knowledge of ancient techniques long since lost to time allowing her to manipulate the muscles and tendons in a way that modern medicine can't (yet).

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
Alfred Pennyworth says, "Normally not so much, at least not for humans. There isnt any direct rule that tyranical societies cant do art, but in my observation the more repressive the society, the more its limited and less likely to have a a vibrant artistic culture, but I suppose its foolish of me to apply human standards to an extra terrestrial society" he smiles thinly, "But it sounds fabulous in terms of what they did make. An art piece that remakes itself? Performance and traditional art." He sighs happily as the work and pressure bring the healing to an apex. "Well, that makes sense. Andy Warhol couldnt really do his thing during the Roman empire but he could still make art. More advanced tools means more possibilities; hadnt thought of it but it makes sense." He doesnt mind the effectivness of the technique but can tell its a bit TOO effective but is polite enough not to gawk. That is, after all, one thing he is to excess...


Polite.

Kenesha has posed:
"Mmmmmmm... I think I see where the disconnect is occurring. The Kherans are tyrranical... to other species. Not to their own. Think of it more like.. class differences. On Khera, you have the Kherubim. They are the 'elite'. I wouldn't call them the 'idle rich' but... they are certainly cared for. It leaves them free to explore their artistic, scientific, combative, or technological interests." Kenesha finishes with his shoulder by rubbing her hands together, generating some heat, then pressing her palsm around the ball and slope of the shoulder to let the heat sink in, "The Titanothropes are also cared for and have little that they have to do in terms of 'work' or 'toil'... but they are most certainly treated as second class citizens. They have little say in political or social matters, and do not garner the respect that the Kherubim do."

She pulls her hands away and moves around to rest a hip against the edge of the table, smiling faintly, "You can see why I'm not terribly a fan of my people. They are capable of amazing things... but they are also massively egotistical and have a major superiority complex." Lifting a small shrug, she offers, "Much like humans, we have the capacity for great acts of kindness... and cruelty."

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
Alfred Pennyworth says, "Makes sense," he smiles as he listens with interest, stretching and considering. "I imagine there is a spectrum in all cultures and races....but it does clarify. People can be very cruel to the others; goodness knows the Empire used to do so. We got better....well..." he smiles in thought, "We are approachng better....but still have flaws."

Kenesha has posed:
"The British Empire was patterned a little too much on the Roman Empire before it, at least at the start. They started getting better as they aged.. though I'm not sure they'll ever fully live down how they treated Africa and Australia." Kenesha quirks a faint smile and lifts a shrug, "But I'm also not sure the US will ever fully live down how they treated, and still treat to some extent, African-Americans."

With his shoulder handled and night fast approaching, she murmurs, "We should eat and get some rest... and in the morning, before we leave... I'll give you a phone number and passcode. Call the number, speak the code, and you'll learn something that's... well. Lets just say there are layers within layers of the British service." She quirks a faint smile, "You take the bed, rest that shoulder. I'll take the couch."

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
Alfred Pennyworth says, "The British had the advantage of the englightment, the romantics, and our artists and to a lesser extent our clerics to prick the concience of the nation..." he shrugs and cracks his knuckles. "And I can't disagree with you about living it down, some sins are not 'gotten over' if you ever revert to bad behavior. The same people that glory in the Roman Empire glory in the Empire....balderdash I say. And I doubt America will grow up any time soon in its obsessions with its own sins....I love the states...Gotham is my second home after London, but...yes. They glory ...yeah...problems." He sighs and smiles and nods, "I am not opposed to a good nights rest." He blinks about the code. He'd completely forgotten aobut it and takes it.

He is curious and picks up the phone and dials it...."

Kenesha has posed:
Chuckling, Kenesha moves to start the stove up so they can cook up something to eat. There isn't a lot to choose from, but since Kenesha only really eats on occasion, it won't bother her any. Not that she's a stellar cook. But while ALfred is getting read into, well, what the monarchy knows of Kenesha... she should at least keep busy!

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
Alfred Pennyworth listens for an operator and says, "The Titanic Was a Leaky Boat" he waits for the reply and nods, "Call Sign Pound Silver Echo Tango Charlie Worstiershier 496969. Yes. Yes. Here is the call sign for the data, "Mary Had a Little Velocoraptor. Now what...I see." He listens and looks at Kenesha, curiously.

Kenesha has posed:
Kenesha starts up something simple. It won't win any awards, but it will feed them for tonight and that's all it needs to do. While food simmers and stews, she turns to watch Alfred while he dials the number and confirms everything, giving the passcode. She wears a faint smile on her lips as he gets read into what the monarchy knows of her, glancing to the food occasionally to make sure it doesn't burn.

On the other end of the phonecall, a very prim British voice starts to rattle off information about the being calling herself Kenesha. Her age (as far as they can track it), what abilities she's known to possess (with emphasis that it may not be a comprehensive list), what missions she's aided on past and present, with emphasis made that while she's presumed friendly, they recommend to treat with caution as they cannot guarantee that she has not also aided the Empire's enemies as well.

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
Alfred Pennyworth is, frankly, impressed as hell. Exactly the kind of person that, if properly treated, would be the most valuable asset his country could possess; but due to the random roll of the idiot dice, was likely stupid a good chunk of the time. Shaking his head, he hung up the phone and came out smiling, "Well something smells delicious...and....quite an impressive Resume."

Kenesha has posed:
Chuckling, she gives a nod, "Thanks. I'm not a great cook, but I can manage a decent pot luck." Kenesha lifts a small shrug and glances back at him with a quirk of a smile, "Nothing that anyone else in Her Majesty's Service couldn't accomplish with enough time. But thank you. SO... you'll probably be debriefed after this, and maybe bumped up a few notches. Not because of me, precisely, but because those who work well with me tend to rise up the ranks faster. I guess being a good 'handler' for someone like me impresses the right people."

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
Alfred Pennyworth says, "Well I'm always debrief, the question is who, and if I've ruined the bloker's career by exposing them as the twit they are..." his eyes twinkle and he samples a bite, "Very very nice...." he'd add a bit of paprika but isnt going to comment on someone else's cooking since they just met. He begins to wolf it down, since he hasnt had a decent meal in a while. "But I do imagine the report will be..." he chuckles, "interesting ....to say the least."

Kenesha has posed:
Chuckling, Kenesha grins at him, "I imagine this debrief will come from someone you've never met before, and may not ever see again. That seems to be the way of things." She watches as he samples the food and laughs softly, "You flatter. I know that I'm not any sort of great cook. But I appreciate the flattery." Kenesha winks before fixing herself a plate, eating at a more sedate rate. "Oh, I imagine it will be. I'll have to look you up after, find out how things turned out."

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
Alfred Pennyworth nods, "That's true. There's a peculiar set of thin men in tweed with glasses who are never the same man twice but act particularly creepy and sadistic...always mean to investigate them and they evaporate, but no shortage of repressed assholes in the service" he shrugs and smiles, inhaling more food, "When you have forever, why not learn?" He is genuinely curious, "We survive this maybe I'll teach you a few things.

Kenesha has posed:
"And all named Smythe. No matter young or old, short or tall, whatever their hair or eye color... all of them named Smythe. Been that way for forever." Kenesha chuckles and shakes her head, then turns a smile towards Alfred as she finishes up her serving. "I always mean to, but there's always something else that ends up being more urgent. Another dig, another artifact, another mission... another war. Always something to occupy my attention." Lifting a brow, she grins, "Oh? Well then, I'll definitely have to look you up after."

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
Alfred Pennyworth smiles and finishes his plate, napkining his mout despite the informal nature of the meal, "Please do" he smiles, "And I have noticed SMythe is common, as is Doyle or Broxton, or Jonas, but you're right...Smythe...stands out.....so weird." He yawnns and stretches.

Kenesha has posed:
Kenesha chuckles and shakes her head, "Don't look at me. All names start to blur together after so long... but Smythe... Smythe has stood out so much." She watches his yawn and stretch, smiling faintly, "Alright, Agent Pennyworth. I think it's time for lights out for you. I'll clean up in here and hit the hay after. Get some rest, we have an early morning and a big day."

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
Alfred Pennyworth seems to not mind the stretch at all and gets a thoguhtful look before shaking his head and heading to bead. There is always later as he winks, saluting in MOSTLY mock obediens, "ma'am yes ma'am...." as he heads to bed.

Kenesha has posed:
Laughing at his remark, she swats his retreating form with a dish towel before collecting the plates up to get things cleaned up so she can head to bed herself. She also makes a mental note to reach out to one of her contacts in the service after. She'd like to know how things go for Alfred after this mission. She finishes up washing the dishes, turning off lights before heading to bunk down herself.