19884/Interstellar Introductions and Intrigue

Interstellar Introductions and Intrigue
Date of Scene:	17 January 2025
Location:	Porter House. Brooklyn, NYC.
Synopsis:	= Business and commerce, with a dash of drugs and a side of chickens.
Cast of Characters:	Kyle Porter, Noa

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Kyle Porter has posed:
Situated on a surprisingly quiet Brooklyn street, Porter House is a four story brownstone that people don't discover on accident. Kyle remedies that by inviting every interesting person his various friends, associates, confidants, and playmates inform him of. He's a man with appetites that are varied and voracious, but his current penchant is for alien visitors. They're presently the ones with the most fascinating rumors, business opportunities, and anatomical differences. All guests are met in the foyer by Runcer, the silent-yet-recalcitrant majordomo, who rarely speaks and always seems put-upon. He always departs as quickly and quietly as possible, just like today.

Kyle is in the drawing room, which is just off of the main foyer on the first floor. Despite it being mid-afternoon, he's still dressed in what appears to be sleepwear; just a silk dressing gown lazily tied at the waist and a matching pair of silk trunks. He's tinkering with several packs of cigarettes, but giving them far more attention than one would expect, considering you'd, you know, normally just light one. There's a pitcher of screwdrivers at his elbow, but no glass; just a long straw stuck right into the pitcher. On his other side there's a bowl filled with a curious mix of gummy bears, hard candies, and an alarming array of pills. Without taking his eyes or hands off of his work, he leans over the pitcher and gulps down two cocktails' worth of vodka and orange juice.

Noa has posed:
Noa apparently got an invitation. Those who know enough about how the world beyond theEarth works can find ways to send signals to an alien in a spaceship. She receives the message, and ends up on the street here in New York. In her zero suit, she steps up to the door, and gives it aknock.

Kyle Porter has posed:
Runcer answers the door, as always. He's grizzled, sixty-something, and rarely speaks. He looks Noa up and down, then nods and silently motions for her to follow him to the drawing room.

When they cross the threshold, Kyle glances up from his work, then straightens and stretches his lean frame. "Good timing. Come in, come in. Welcome to Porter House." He stands, one eyebrow arched curiously and a Cheshire grin on his face. The hand he extends is graceful and long-fingered; like the rest of him, it's unmarred by honest work. "I'm Kyle. Can I get you anything? Cocktail? Narcotics? I'm not sure how? Shee-are? Well, I don't know about your people, but we Terrans love our intoxicants."

Noa has posed:
Noa looks up at the guy, assuming Runcer is her host, and smiles "Hello. I'm Noa. I received your transmission." But then she's led along, and then there's Kyle.

"Oh you sent the message. Kyle. Thank you. I am Noa. Shi'ar have a somewhat different physiology but I'm not a biologist and could not tell you the details, I'm sorry. I could try something and see how it goes."

Kyle Porter has posed:
Meanwhile, Kyle has picked several white gummy bears out of the bowl and pops them into his mouth. "Mmm, MDMA. The champagne of ingested intoxicants, it comes highly recommended. Or there's always alcohol. Help yourself, I encourage my guests to make themselves at home."

He pauses, his eyes traveling up and down Noa's form unabashedly. "I love your outfit. It's a biology lesson all by itself. How delightful."

Noa has posed:
Noa laughs, and steps up to his array. She picks a bottle of alcohol, and gently pours a small amount of it. It's the only thing on the platter that she actually recognizes. Then taking her glass, she swirls it, not knowing exactly WHAT kind of alcohol it is, and turns to face him. "So you are in the interstellar trading business, Kyle? And thank you. It's a very practical design. Lets me visit any planet when I enable the armor."

Kyle Porter has posed:
"I'd say I'm in the supply and demand industry. Whatever there's a demand for, somehow I always find a way to supply it." Now there's a hint of professional curiosity to his gaze. He unconsciously leans forward a few inches to study the suit's composition.

His grin is still there, but it's smaller and much less affected as he watches his guest pour herself some vodka. "Oh, my. No, you don't want to do that. Here." Chuckling, he pops a second straw into his pitcher of screwdrivers and offers it, but keeps his hold on the handle. He's only offering the straw. "Sips, then I'd love to see this armor of yours. Indulge me."

Noa has posed:
Noa laughs,a nd lets him does his thing, and takes a small sip. The small alien scrunches her face at the taste, and the strength. "I uh... thank you." She laughs softly. "Do does this mean you're... looking to buy things you cannot find on Earth?"

As for the armor, she touches her shoulder, and they spring out like shoulder pads. Her head is surrounded by a nearly -invisible field. "With this I can survive adverse conditions in space or on a planet."

Kyle Porter has posed:
"Oh, yes." There's a merry twinkle in Kyle's eye as he observes. There's an almost childlike excitement to him, as if this is the first interesting thing he's seen in a while. "I love it. Professionally, that is. I am, among other things, a tailor of modest skill."

He sounds anything but modest as he waves toward the far end of the room, where several mannequins are wearing bespoke suits and dresses in varying stages of construction. His gaze stays fixed on Noa. Without hesitation, he takes her wrist and turns her arm over to view it from both sides. "But to answer your question, yes. I normally trade in smaller commodities. Gemstones. Rare trinkets. Object d'art. Nude statuary is making a comeback, mark my words. I'd love to get my hands on this tech, though. Adverse conditions, eh? How adverse?"

Noa has posed:
Noa is able to get viewed front and back, from each side. How the exceptional alien material moves with her, but doesn't get in the way. "This is a civilian Shi'ar space suit. Pretty ordinary. I have a dozen on my ship. I could sell you these, or even bring in a shipment of a thousand of them."

She tilts her head. "But whta could you supply in return, I wonder?"

Kyle Porter has posed:
"The world is your oyster, my young friend." Kyle's amusement and intrigue are warring for control. They're both winning. "There are very, very few things I can't acquire. I could pay, I suppose, in precious metals or something similar. I'm also happy to barter. It seems more intergalactically user-friendly, anyway. I'd love to take a few of the suits off of your hands to experiment with. I'm more interested in the raw materials, though."

While he says this, he continues to explore the suit in both a visual and tactile sense, fingering the shoulder armor thoughtfully. "You could start by selling me this one. I'll set you up with some lovely earth attire."

Noa has posed:
Noa takes a slow deep breath. She sipped more than she should have, for sure, but it ws an awkward way to do it.

She taps her shoulder, and the shields are down, just the bare suit. "Animals. Can you get me..." She pauses, and thinks. "Chickens. Those seem very popular. Chickens. You get me enough chickens to breed them, and I can give you 10 suits."

Kyle Porter has posed:
There's a lengthy pause, then Kyle flashes his most genuine smile yet. He's momentarily at a loss for words. There's no telling what he expected, but it wasn't this. When he continues, there's laughter in his voice. "Absolutely. As tempted as I am to take advantage of you wholesale, I only do that in my personal life. Never professionally. Which is to say, that's a very modest request in these parts. I mean, I could also get you some ducks?"

Noa has posed:
Noa smiles back, nodding. "I'm sure to you, chickens are an ordinary thing. But to me, they are exotic an alien. And the food will be, too. No no, just chickens. You humans eat many, many chickens. A couple dozen mixed chickens should do it. We can make the trade next week?"

Kyle Porter has posed:
"Sounds good. A few basic preparations will simplify and expedite procreation, too. We've got tech for that. Planet-wide, Terrans have refined the art of fornication to a science, then turned it back into art just for fun. For better or worse, livestock is no exception." Kyle explains this the same way another species might convey racial traits of extreme strength or exceptional intelligence. He's still laughing; he can't help it and can't quite suppress it either. It's a warm, inviting, unmocking sound. "I thought I had a guy for everything, but I'll need to find a bird guy. Not a thing I planned to say today, but I digress. Now it's time for the single most Amish statement I'll ever make: Be a doll and take off your clothes so I can buy them with chickens."