2206/A Wave Crashes on Land

A Wave Crashes on Land
Date of Scene:	24 June 2020
Location:	Centennial Park - New Troy
Synopsis:	A walk in the park accompanied by shots fired by Aquaman at the poor beleaguered Agent Drew.
Cast of Characters:	Arthur Curry, Jessica Drew

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Arthur Curry has posed:
    Under the statue of Superman the pigeons congregate. There in the shadow of the greatest of the heroes on Earth, at times the small blue and grey birds flutter and flap and gallivant around. Each seeks their bits of bread, each trying to get ahead. It's this tableau before him that has the one known as Arthur looking down a them, thoughtfully... even as he eats bits of pretzel while standing there.
    "There..." He says to himself, even though people are wandering around back and forth hither and yon in the crowd near him. "Is a metaphor here somewhere. But I am not smart enough to find it."
    Yet as he nods to himself after saying that he takes another bite of the pretzel and perhaps rebelliously, or perhaps sharing some sense of kinship with the small birds... he tosses a bit of breading to them.
    There's a flutter of wings and cooing as the animals fight for their scrap even as Arthur shakes his head and looks away, sliding his empty hand down the length of his braided beard and frowns. "Hey..." He tilts his head as he catches the eye of a police officer walking by.
    "Is it ok to feed the birds here?"
    The officer pauses long enough to look at the swarthy and rough looking man then answers, "Just don't go crazy with it, buddy."
    "Thanks, man."

Jessica Drew has posed:
Jessica watches the spectacle of the man standing under the statue, both of them larger than life. A sardonic smile lifts a corner of her mouth thinking of Superman with a beard. The big man's gesture is almost tender as he shares the pretzel. The smile fades, even the biggest blow hearts like dogs, or kittens or birds. It's not as though he's a monster just an unknown to the people who send her out to keep tabs on people like him. Like herself, if truth be known, the mutants, the ones born different than most of mankind. Sometimes, it's easier to deal with monsters.

Dressed as a tourist, her purple high tops are noiseless as she walks up to him, popcorn bag in hand. Blending in.

"Hello, Mr. Curry," she lilts, emphasizing her own accent.

Arthur Curry has posed:
    Over his shoulder is a glance, then a second one given with a double take. A small smirk is given but at least not one that's edged with the derision she saw before. Instead he looks away and back to the statue as he pulls apart another piece of that pretzel.
    "Someone should put a bell on you, girl." The last word being said not with admonishment and more with the hint of slang and something easy-going in that voice.
    But then he takes another bite of the pretzel and chews for a time, gnawing on the carb-laden snack food even as he turns around. "So something up this time, break a few more surfacer laws, or are you assigned to be my minder?"

Jessica Drew has posed:
"Belling the cat, Mr. Curry, is always a dangerous enterprise." Jessica blinks innocently, long lashes lidding her big green eyes, measured and deliberate. "Do I pose that much of a threat to you?" She offers him some popcorn after taking a kernel to nibble on.

"No, no 'surfacer' laws broken yet. And, yes, truth be told, I have a binkie and blanket in my bag should you need them." She drops her eyes and shakes her head taking the sting from the words. "I would rather not be anyone's minder, mind you."

Arthur Curry has posed:
    "Mmm," Said so succinctly, Arthur starts to walk then, setting foot on the sidewalk and perhaps presuming she'll follow along with him. He continues to munch on the pretzel and keeps his stride apace. "If that is so..."
    A tilt of his head is given as he looks back toward her, "Then why would you say you're here, Agent Drew?"
    It's into the crowd they go, not exactly the most secure place nor way to have a conversation, but there is that certain amount of anonymity provided by the simple fact of their being in transition and that they are in and out of earshot of so many people so quickly, it would take much for someone to maintain surveillance. Unless, of course, they were SHIELD.
    And had heads up about the meet.
    "Did you upset your supervisor and get stuck with the shit duty for the week?"

Jessica Drew has posed:
Falling in with him, they look ill-assorted as a couple if people were to pay them any mind. They do: his size and beard garners most of the attention though men's eyes stop to linger on Jessica. Even in tennis shoes and stretch jeans that do nothing to hide her athletic figure, she looks more put together than he does.

She snorts at his words. "That would imply that being around you is a punishment, wouldn't it? Is it?"

Munching a piece of popcorn, she looks up at him, keeping pace. "You seem to be coming into New Troy more frequently. Why would that be?"

Arthur Curry has posed:
    "Free pretzels." Is the answer he gives, flippant in its offering. But that shall have to serve for a time even as he strolls along with that free hand of his now going into his pocket, which just makes him have to /bite/ the pretzel now and again. And chew. And then swallow.
    He does that twice before he gives her anything more. "But I don't know. Is this a punishment?" He finally looks again at her and gives a slight dismissive shrug, a marginal turn of his head accompanying it. "I could see it being considered so. But then again maybe that's just my ego talking."
    That said he stops finally and turns to look at her. "So what's your story, Agent Drew? I usually find secret agents tend not to talk about themselves. For some reason."

Jessica Drew has posed:
"Oh, ho. I'm a secret now!" She wrinkles her nose at the idea. "Not so secret agent sent out to be punished by the big water ogre." Contenting herself with a palm full of popcorn which stops her gob, she walks and chews in silence, smoothly in step with his long stride.

"No, you're a surprising man but less of a punishment than you might think though the jury is out on that still."

Looking straight ahead, she purses her lips thoughtfully before continuing, "They coach us on not being led by questions. We could exchange them though. You answer mine and I will answer yours."

Arthur Curry has posed:
    "I mean," There's a pause as Arthur smirks while he walks, "I didn't say you were /good/ at your job." There's a nod of his head as he strolls along, tearing another bite out of his pretzel with an almost snarling snap of his jaws.
    "You did sorta introduce yourself as an agent that first time." His left eye scrunches up a bit while he moves along the path into the park, taking his stroll leisurely so while he chats semi-amiably. "I don't know, if I was a secret agent of SHIELD I'd try to keep that to myself."
    He finally finishes the last bite of that pretzel and twists up the wrapper, pausing long enough to toss it into the trash can before sliding both hands into his pockets now. "Maybe you should go back through SHIELD boot camp again. Is that a thing? SHIELD boot camp?"

Jessica Drew has posed:
"Nor was I asking you for a critique of my abilities. I leave that to the high mucky mucks. I was told to identify myself, Mr. Curry." He has piqued her very slightly or so she would like him to think.

"It is called curtesy," Jessica adds primly, nose in the air. "I was not sent out to seduce you or trick you which should make you happy but then, I think little does."

A third of the bag of popcorn is left. She looks at it loathe to waste it. Holding it up to him, "More salt with your pretzel?"

Arthur Curry has posed:
    "Hm," He seems to take that and ponder it, but then when she offers the popcorn he shakes his head once. Perhaps out of distrust, or perhaps a lack of further hunger, whichever it is it's hard to tell for sure. Instead he walks along and then pauses as they pass under a low hanging bough, one of his large hands reaching up to grab the branch and hold it for a moment as he leans there.
    "So this is just a social call? Or a fact-finding mission? Or something else entirely?" He holds up a fingertip and then tells her, "Mind, not that I'll trust what you say. More perhaps I'm just trying to push the bounds of my own incredulity to see how far I can travel down a conversation with no suspension of disbelief."
    His lips twist.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Poor pigeons. The bag is folded over so Jessica can bin it in the nearest park receptacle. Poor Agent Drew, she must, within bounds stay polite unless he crosses a line that only she will be the judge of.

"Oh, wonderful. We can play Truth or Consequences, Mr. Curry. You start! What brings you to the surface so often? Flatter me and tell me it's because you want to see me."