1760/And For My Next Trick!

And For My Next Trick!
Date of Scene:	20 May 2020
Location:	Central Park, New York City
Synopsis:	Bucky is on-scene in time to help Hellcat subdue a supernatural creature attempting to eat joggers in Central Park. Lili is not a fan of singing, apparently.
Cast of Characters:	Patsy Walker, James Barnes

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Patsy Walker has posed:
Central Park in spring is a burgeoning process of re-greening after winter's chill. The ponds are free of ice and thickly girded in cattails; redwing blackbirds trill from their perches within the clumpings. The trees are leafing out nearly full and anything blooming is having a ball in the milder weather. Once the sun falls, it's cooler but nothing a nice jacket can't ward off.

Or a catsuit.

It's along one of the more private trails that a young woman is jogging, earbuds in her ear, at a brisk pace. Her ponytail sways in time to her steps and she's making good time. Behind out, out of nowhere, a rogue figure appearing, stepping out from the trees. Whomever it is has broad shoulders -- broader than normal, and the hood doesn't quite hide the beaky nose sticking out from within its shadows..and those nails are kind of long too. The jogger hasn't heard a thing as she rounds the corner to a straighter stretch, open on one side and hemmed in with woods on the other. Her would-be attacker tries to make that last dash at her unsuspecting, unarmed back before she reaches a more open space --

-- and is summarily sacked by a golden and black blur out of NOWHERE from the last extension of tree growth. A flash of red accompanies the tumbling, fluttering of fabric, and there they go down a short if steep hill into the undergrowth.

The jogger jogs on, blissfully unaware of impending doom averted.

But what a sight to anyone else nearby. What on earth disappeared into the trees and down that hill?

James Barnes has posed:
See, that's one of Buck's rants about the modern day. How earbuds destroy everyone's self-awareness. Like going around in a bubble of sound that no one else can hear is just dangerous and oblivious and stupid. Steve has been treated to this one *multiple* times.

But Steve's not there. So Buck says, in a grumpy old man moment, "See, Lili? What'd I tell you? That guy woulda been all over h-" And then it sinks in.....what *was* that? He interrupts himself in mid-grumble and goes from 'irritable old codger from Brooklyn' to 'SHIELD agent' in less than a heartbeat. Then he's running, just slow enough so Lili can keep up, and barreling towards the altercation in the brush.

Patsy Walker has posed:
The closer one gets, the closer it sounds like a large predator tangling with prey that simply won't lie down and die. Grunts and snarls hang between the sound of scuffling earth and the sharp cracks of broken branches.

As one travels down the hill, it's easy to see where the tumbling turned into the fracas. Dirt and leaves are torn up and as the undergrowth thins, it's very apparently that the fight has moved out onto more open ground, a break in the trees and bushes both.

What appears to be a red-headed woman in a...sunflower-orange catsuit accented by black boots, gloves, and eared cowl is in dire hand-to-hand combat with a creature wearing a thick, dark coat. Whatever it is has bony hands with ghurka-like talons and it's humanoid, but not human; more like a porcupine had a bad bender with some radioactive waste and grew some extra teeth while going mostly bald. It's not pretty and it's not happy. It's the source of the snarling as it makes to slash at the vigilante again. She darts to one side, the bright red of her cloak trailing off her shoulders, and tries again to get behind it in a swift ducking turn. She fails and huffs, dismayed. There must be a weakness from behind in this creature, somehow!

Neither have noticed either Barnes or Lili -- not just yet.

James Barnes has posed:
Buck, being Buck, comes prepared for many situations. Including something like this, where he needs to stun, rather than to immediately lethal damage. That's one of the great things about SHIELD, they want him to be something *other* than a killer.

So there's the slither of metal on metal as he pulls out a collapsible baton....and after a gesture to get Lili to sit, he's trying to come up behind the thing and take it down with a quick strike to the head.

Patsy Walker has posed:
The strike certainly lands home, but not on the thing's head. There's the feeling of the baton thunking against very solid flesh, not too unlike the build of one Captain Rogers, and then the thing is wheeling on him. Up this close...man, this thing is ugly. Slits for nostrils, blank all-black eyes, a leering mouth opening waaaaaaaaay too far for comfort. It splutter-snarls at Bucky now with its focus purely on him.

And then the catsuited young woman is basically yoinking the majority of her red cloak overtop him like some botched kidnapping -- and it seems to be WORKING! Half of the creature disappears as if the red cloak were some interdimensional space, leaving only its waist-down to thrash and kick around.

"Take...out its...feet!" the red-head manages to grit out, her hair tangled with leaves and a twig or two, hugging and trying to use all her body weight to bear the creature to the ground.

James Barnes has posed:
How is he surprised by anything anymore, honestly. But he is. That thing is ugly, even though he knows intellectually it doesn't make sense to judge it by those standards. Look, he's a little speciesist, okay.

Buck bares his much less impressive teeth at the thing in turn, snarls back. But he's not so lost in mutual admiration that he doesn't actually listen to her. No, the moment she's done, he's dropping down for a leg sweep. Yes, it's much less sexy-looking than when Natasha does it.

Patsy Walker has posed:
Leg sweep: successful.

Down the bottom half of the thing goes, somehow managing to catch itself on one knee, but it's more than enough to allow the catsuited young woman to finish shoving the cloak down overtop its head. Breath leaves her as her stomach lands flat on the earth, the red garment flat beneath her -- as if the creature were never there. She then curls on herself, pulling the cloak into a ball and gripping it tight.

A second or three lingers on before she opens one eye behind the mask-like cowl...and then the other, both a bright cornflower-blue lined in kohl and dark lashes.

"Gosh, you've got good timing," she says as she sits up, the red cloak now bundled on her lap. Her eyes slide from the baton and back to his face. "Did you know what that thing was?"

James Barnes has posed:
At first glance, he's just a broad-shouldered young man, wearing a plain gray t-shirt, a Cyclones ball cap, worn black fatigue pants, and a black compression sleeve and glove on his left arm. Long hair pulled back low in an neat tail. ....and an expression of bemusement, of course.

His response isn't immediately cogent. "I know another guy with a magic cape," he says, or more accurately, blurts. "I mean, not personal. I know of him...." Yes, he's babbling. And he's still holding the baton.

There's the doggo obediently sitting, wearing her bright blue mesh vest, next to the backpack he was carrying and dropped. "Not a clue," he finally says. "Uh, how'd you *do* that?"

Patsy Walker has posed:
The redhead tilts her slightly, clearly a little confused in turn by the sudden outflux of information, but she merely smiles to herself as she looks up into his face. A soft grunt as she rises to her feet and then unbundles the red cloak into a loose sweeping fall of fabric. Off to one side, she shakes it out of debris -- and all that falls out is debris, bits of leaf and dirt.

As to the 'how' of things done: "Would you believe me if I said magic?" she asks, glancing over at him again only after she affixes the garment to her shoulders again. Now it's a proper draping around her body, only allowing a narrow vertical panel of the sunflower-gold catsuit to show. "And I bet you're talking about Doc Strange. I know of him, yeah, he's...different," she decides almost whimsically. Realizing there's a twig still in the fall of hair over her front, she makes a small sound of frustration as she begins to try and work it from the tangling. Her black gloves appear to be tipped with short claws. "That thing was...creepy as hell, but I don't know what it was either. The Doc might know, but he's not around to ask. He's probably got more important things to do right now. His cloak is also cooler, I'll tell you, it moves by itself."

Stupid twig. She scowls at it now, rose-pink lips pursed, as she unspools another few strands of hair.

"I really appreciate your help though. What's your name?" Those cornflower-blues meet his own gaze again, guileless and curious.

James Barnes has posed:
His grin is rueful, uneven. "Different's an understatement where the Doc's concerned," he agrees. "And yeah, I'd believe you if you said magic." A faint sigh. He hates magic. Almost as much as he hates superscience....but then, magicians have never done awful things to him for the hell of it.

Then Buck's turning to retrieve his pack, sling it over one shoulder, grab Lili's leash. The latter has a little thing attached to it, noting she's not for petting, as do the patches on the vest."Uh, I'm James," he says. "Yeah, I think Doc Strange works on a pretty vast scale....who're you?"

Patsy Walker has posed:
"Then hey, it's definitely magic. The Doc does some craaaaazy things in comparison to what this cloak can do." The young woman doesn't seem bothered by any vast expanse of power between her own garb and what the Sorcerer can accomplish. If anything, she's now pleased the twig is gone. Flick: there it goes, and she combs her clawed glove-tips through the light-auburn hair to better straighten it. Another glance brings her to realize of the dog's existence.

Of course there's a small sound of understanding, of recognizing what the vest stands for, and her eyes shift to him again. "James. You look like a James." With a quiet poise, she walks over to man and dog and then offers out a hand to shake.

"I feel bad being secretive with you, but I'm Hellcat for the moment." Her smile asks a sweet forgiveness for keeping her real name secret. "I'm glad your dog wasn't hurt. I can tell by the vest she's your service animal. Can..."

She falls silent for a second, searching his face for something. As she does, there's a subtle straightening in her posture. Those in the service will mark their ilk through it. "...can I ask where you got her?"

James Barnes has posed:
It has Buck lifting his hands, as if to fend off any suggestion that he might pry. "I understand. Work names and all that kinna thing," he says, with that lopsided smile. Then he's letting his right hand fall to the dog's silky ears. "She was a gift, really, in that a friend did most of the process for me. Organization is Hearts for Heroes....that's still who I train her with. I really couldn't've believed how much a dog could help. I mean dogs *in* war, I saw that. But the idea of the aftermath, nah."

Patsy Walker has posed:
Hellcat's eyes fall to Lili and she smiles to herself. "I've heard of Hearts for Heroes, yeah. Cool. I'll...I'll have to look them up. I've seen them do some amazing things too, yeah. I've got a friend with a service dog, but they live in another state." Another bit of leaf is noticed and picked off the bright-red cloak. "I appreciate your understanding too, about the name. Lots of people want to get nosy about it and it's not fair, you know? Privacy's important and kind of rare in this day and age."

She then rolls her eyes at herself and looks off to one side, almost going profile for a second. "I know, it sounds kind of nutty with the amount of social media, but I really do appreciate it." Her smile appears again as she looks back into his face, its curve still sweet.

James Barnes has posed:
He spreads his hand in a shrug. "What's the point in prying? I mean, I'm not some kinna magical meter maid, gonna ticket you for casting a spell in city limits or somethin'. You know somebody who needs one? I mean, a service dog?" Lili, aware she's being discussed, smiles, pins her ears....and Buck glances down and coos, "Yeah, I know, you're the best girl, huh?"

Unabashed, he looks up. "I dunno how anybody deals with that stuff. It's just.....it's weird to me. That you're supposed to have your whole life splashed up there for any stranger to get involved in."

Patsy Walker has posed:
Her gloved hands appear in a spread before herself now beyond the fall of the cloak, her grin bright. "See, you get it! That's the problem: anybody can get involved and then there's questions and then there's stalkers and stalkers suck." Despite the upbeat air, there's a depressed note of experience to her statement. Her hands tuck away again and she then twists her lips against what must be a mildly sheepish smile.

Her eyes again fall to Lili with that doggy smile on full display. "Yeah...I know somebody who could use one, but I have to look into it more first. I don't know a lot about the process. She looks like she's a big help though, if that's not rude of me or anything. You just...hopped right into that fiasco like you meant business and now you're chatting like nothing happened. You might have an aptitude for vigilante work," she says with a lilt of what could be mild, friendly tease.

James Barnes has posed:
That his sheer acceptance of the weird might itself come off as weird really hadn't occurred to him. That's readily clear, the way Buck blinks. "Yeah," he says. "It's always been bad for celebrities, but now it can be that bad for ordinary people, right?" Running his fingertips between the dog's brows.

"The good groups will want a lot of vetting, real commitment. But it's worth it." There's a rueful little laugh. "I, uh, maybe. I've mostly gone with bigger organizations, though."

Patsy Walker has posed:
"Oh man, small fish in a big pond? Or big fish in a small pond?" Hellcat brings up her black-gloved hand out of the cloak and bops a pointer finger off her chin a few times, clearly thinking as she holds his gaze rather fearlessly. "...okay, I can't guess who you work for, but you're good," she admits, finally comfortable enough to let out a little laugh of her own. "I mean, I'm impressed. Most people run away screaming from stuff like that."

Away go her hands again, folded like her arms beneath her chest now. "I'm glad to hear she's worth it. That's what everyone has said..." There's a winsomeness to her gaze upon Lili now, a swift little fracture of loneliness swiftly banished about as soon as it appears. "I think it's those eyebrow dots. The eyebrow dots really make you adorable, I'll have you know," she then informs the dog with a theatrical solemnity.

James Barnes has posed:
Buck's got that kind of silly grin, as he gazes back. "Me? Real small fish, real big pond. But I'm happy," There's a moment of almost comical pause, like he has to check with himself when it comes to the truth of that statement. He is, for some values of the word, actually happy. " I just....uh, things've been weird for me for a long time, and humans adapt, if we can."

Lili is squinting with satisfaction, tongue just peeking out past her front teeth. "Isn't she beautiful?" he says, with paternal pride.

Patsy Walker has posed:
"Gorgeous as the day is long -- legs for daaaaays too," Hellcat agrees, unable to help the trickle of laughter at the sight of the pink tongue only just appearing into view. "If things have been that weird for you for that long, I'm glad she's there to help you out." Those cornflower-blues return to James' face again. "Whatever you overcame...you did it. You adapted and yeah, you did it."

Again though, with the eyeroll, and she shifts in place, smirking to herself. "Sorry if that seemed overmuch. It's just...vindicating to see, you know? To see people overcome the weird. To see the happy." Her grin is enough to show white teeth this time. "It makes the vigilante stuff worth it."

James Barnes has posed:
"I'm doin' it every day," he says, and his voice is light, very gentle, as if to avoid even an iota of what might be construed as self-pity. "What's the song?" Whereupon James sings, in that rusty voice, "I get by with a little help from my friends...."

Lili shoots him an accusing look, tongue disappearing. Dad, no sing, no sing.

Patsy Walker has posed:
By the opening of her eyes and rounding of lips, there must have been a rise of eyebrows -- the eared mask cowl hides this. Regardless, Hellcat then grins brightly before bringing down the wattage of her smile into something more restrained.

"I'm gonna try with a little help from my friends," she then offers in soft counter to his little spate of song. Sure, she's skipped a line, but the song is apparently one she knows. She continues in normal conversational tone. "Hey, I didn't think it was too bad. Your peanut gallery over there, though..." Lili gets a look before the vigilante shrugs beneath the fall of her red cloak. "Tough audience," she then stage-whispers, clearly amused.

James Barnes has posed:
"Everybody's a critic, huh?" he says, grinning sheepishly. "Yeah, she hates it when I sing. She always gives me that look..." And James parodies it in human form - canted brows, pouted lip. "Like she doesn't understand what she did to deserve it." He sighs. "I should be going, honestly. Got to get back for dinner - I'm stayin' in town with a friend, and it's a bit of a ways."

Patsy Walker has posed:
The moue of mocking canine disapproval earns James another faint laugh and the redheaded vigilante shakes her head, playing along with the gentle funning at the peanut gallery Shepherd.

"At least she's your critic, right?" Hellcat then takes a step back, her arms unfolding in readiness to move. "I gotcha. It's a ways back home for me too. I just couldn't let that weirdness stand. Nobody's going to see that critter again, no worries. My disappearing act is kind of permanent."

A pause. "Thaaaaaaat sounded kind of creepy, wow..." A grimaced smile and she then sighs out a few laughs. "It was really nice to meet you, James. If you have a business card, I'll take it. I left mine in my other suit," the redhead quips.

Rather than a business card, a written phone number on a spare slip of paper from a coat pocket is what Hellcat receives. "Thanks." It is with another touch of sheepishness that she folds it up and tucks it into what appears to be a black sash about her waist. "Alright...dinner calls. Not duty, but dinner, you know?" Bad quips are bad. "Nice to meet you, James." Lili gets a little wave and then she turns in a twirl of red cloak; it sluices around her form in a riffling of silky fabric and then there she goes at a brisk lope. Disappearing into the trees again despite the cloak and orange catsuit isn't as difficult as it appears. Poof. Gone, like smoke.