2931/Tangled Webs and Secrets

Tangled Webs and Secrets
Date of Scene:	15 August 2020
Location:	Little Italy
Synopsis:	Ben wakes up in a dumpster and Nyssa is quite curious about it.
Cast of Characters:	Ben Reilly, Nyssa al Ghul

---

Ben Reilly has posed:


The alleyway drips with the leftovers of this afternoon's rain which has been pretty constant until right about now. There's that wet pavement smell--distinctive and not quite pleasing but not quite odorous either. Surely it's much better than the pungent fumes of the nearby dumpster. There are a million of these things in the city--a handful in each alleyway--for businesses to throw whatever it is they don't want into some landfill in New Jersey.

But this dumpster is something different. Not special or bad, just odd, because there is something alive in this dumpster and it moves once and loudly.

Ben Reilly has posed:


The alleyway drips with the leftovers of this afternoon's rain which has been pretty constant until right about now. There's that wet pavement smell--distinctive and not quite pleasing but not quite odorous either. Surely it's much better than the pungent fumes of the nearby dumpster. There are a million of these things in the city--a handful in each alleyway--for businesses to throw whatever it is they don't want into some landfill in New Jersey.

But this dumpster is something different. Not special or bad, just odd, because there is something alive in this dumpster and it moves once and loudly.

Ben Reilly has posed:
The alleyway drips with the leftovers of this afternoon's rain which has been pretty constant until right about now. There's that wet pavement smell--distinctive and not quite pleasing but not quite odorous either. Surely it's much better than the pungent fumes of the nearby dumpster. There are a million of these things in the city--a handful in each alleyway--for businesses to throw whatever it is they don't want into some landfill in New Jersey.

But this dumpster is something different. Not special or bad, just odd, because there is something alive in this dumpster and it moves once and loudly.

Nyssa al Ghul has posed:
Certain clients like to meet in thei comfort zones. In today's case, it was a mobster who wanted to meet in the family restaurant to discuss a piece of art he was looking for. Nyssa went to the meeting, gave him a quote, and left. She knows that he's likely to use the painting to launder money, but he's small fish. Putting a tracer on the painting will give her a glimpse of the upline.

She wouldn't normally have much interest in the dumpster, but certain noises don't usually come from them. And there's a chance that it could be human and in need of some...assistance. Pricey heels click sharply on the pavement as she turns down the alley, checking the rest of the area as she moves toward the dumpster.

Ben Reilly has posed:
The rest of the alleyway is quiet enough. There are a handful of pedestrians who saunter by on each end, along the sidewalks, off toward whatever their lives deem is important. Apparently only Nyssa notices the noise or cares enough to investigate.

Any doubt she may have had in her mind is gone when she can hear coughing on the other side of the metal partition. There is something in there, and more specifically, someone in there.

Nyssa al Ghul has posed:
Nyssa grimaces at the cough. These sorts of things...are always a craps shoot. Sure, sometimes you help someone and make their life better. Other times you just get covered in dumpster filth and disappointed in humanity. Stepping up to the side of the dumpster, she reaches up to flip the lid open, clearing her throat.

"Are you quite all right in there?" she asks. Her voice is low and even, a hint of some sort of accent to it, though there's no putting a finger on it.

Ben Reilly has posed:
A beam of light spills into the dumpster as Nyssa opens it revealing rubbish of all sorts. As she calls out, the mass of trash moves slightly before some of it lifts up. Gradually the pieces fall off revealing a young man, blonde, wearing a uniform of some sort. A pizza delivery uniform. "I don't know," he says quietly and sits there, trying to come to grips. With anything.

Nyssa al Ghul has posed:
Nyssa arches a brow, then disappears from view long enough to find a box to drag over to the dumpster. Taking off her heels, she steps onto the box and extends a hand down toward the young man. "Can you stand?" she asks, trying to get an idea of how he might have ended up in a dumpster.

Ben Reilly has posed:
"I think so," the young man replies as he reaches up to take her hand. He uses it to pull himself up to his feet inside the trash heap, and moves as if he's going to throw a leg over and start trying to get out. "Thanks," he says in an embarrassed way. Obvious reasons of course.

Nyssa al Ghul has posed:
Nyssa helps to pull him out with surprising strength, stepping back off the box as he starts to come over the edge. "Careful," she cautions. "There's a box there so it's not quite as much of a step."

She keeps a hand on his for as long as he'll allow it, looking less than certain that he'll be able to stand on his own two feet when he gets out.

Ben Reilly has posed:
The young man swings his leg over and awkwardly reaches the toe down to find the box before getting a good footing. From there, the other foot is remarkably easy.

He's able to stand okay, but he's definitely worse for wear. There's a large purple bruise on the left side of his face. The nametag, which is askew slightly and has torn away some of the cloth, hangs there saying "Ben."

Cautiously the young man looks over Nyassa's shoulder to the opening of the alleyway, and then down the other side.

Nyssa al Ghul has posed:
Once Ben is safely out of the dumpster, Nyssa slips her heels back on, brushing her hands together. "There wasn't anyone waiting when I came down here," she says, following his gaze. "In case...you weren't in there by choice."

Ben Reilly has posed:
He shakes his head slightly and then a grow of confusion turns into a look of concern. "I..." he begins, looking downwards as if he dropped his keys down there. "I don't know. I don't remember." His eyes trail up to Nyssa, hopeful she can shed light on what's happened to him, but knowing she probably can't.

Nyssa al Ghul has posed:
Nyssa frowns. This is looking like it could be complicated. "All right. How about you take a seat, Ben," she suggests, guiding him back toward the box next to the dumpster. "Let's give you a minute to get yourself together here."

Ben Reilly has posed:
"Ben?" the young man says quizzically as he takes Nyssa's guidance and sits down on the box. "I think that's probably a pretty good idea." He takes a deep breath, wincing as he does so. "I don't remember what happened. I don't remember anything."

Nyssa al Ghul has posed:
"Well, unless you borrowed someone else's shirt, I think it's Ben," Nyssa points out, gesturing to the nametag. She crouches down next to him, seeming comfortable despite the heels and business attire. "It looks like someone or something hit you rather solidly here," she notes, reaching up to turn his chin with one finger. "At least long enough ago for me not to see anyone when I heard you. It can take a little bit for things to come back into focus. Do you remember what year it is?" she asks, arching a brow.

Ben Reilly has posed:
Ben reaches down to the nametag and turns it so he can see it. Rather than undo it, which would probably be the smart thing, he simply tears it out the rest of the way from the pizza delivery uniform and turns it so he can inspect it for himself.

Tortorella's Pizza.

"Uhm," Ben says, focusing. As she turns his head, Nyssa will be able to see the bruising. It's almost as if he got hit with something large. They're not particularly fresh, and he could have been in there for quite some time. Ben looks like he's about to answer, but then shakes his head. "I don't know. What year is it?"

Nyssa al Ghul has posed:
"Twenty twenty," Nyssa answers almost absently, grimacing at the bruise. "Long gone, I suspect. Well. Let's check you pockets, shall we?" she suggests next. "Phone? ID? Wallet?"

Ben Reilly has posed:
Ben digs deep into his right pocket and it's completely empty. He yanks the full thing out completely in order to 'prove' it to Nyssa. After a bit of a sigh, he goes for his left pocket and tilts his head as he finds something. It's not a phone, nor is it an ID. It most certainly isn't a wallet.

It's a black mechanical device of some sort, some sort of technology that Ben is very clearly perplexed by. Rectangular and gunmetal in color, it has three notches in the side that look like they're lights of some sort.

Nyssa al Ghul has posed:
Nyssa's brows both rise when he pulls the device out of his pocket, holding out a hand. "May I?" she asks. What she expected to be a simple problem has become a far more interesting puzzle now.

Ben Reilly has posed:
Ben shrugs his shoulders and nods to her. "Sure."

When he hands it over to her it feels heavy. A closer inspection will show that the welding marks seem to be handmade. Another hint is the lenses over the lights don't quite fit perfectly. This was not made by a factory, corporation, or some sort of alien technology.

Nyssa al Ghul has posed:
Nyssa gives the box a curious inspection, looking for any catches that might open it or any markings that might reveal its purpose. "I'm...not certain if that's something you want to hold on to," she finally says, choosing her words carefully. "If you were robbed, I would think the robbers would have taken it as well as your phone and wallet. Which leads me to suspect you may have been dumped here. Leaving this with you would suggest that it could be used to contact you, or perhaps trace you. But.."

Trailing off, she shakes her head as she offers it back ot him. "It also appears to be your only link to who you might have been, so I'm hesitant to tell you to be rid of it entirely."

Ben Reilly has posed:
As Nyssa changes her grip on it to hand the black device back to Ben, she depresses lightly on the device and suddenly one of the red lights erupts and the small metal box emits a soft <beep>

Ben reaches for it and inspects it, shaking his head. "No idea."

The more time passes, the more he starts to get worried. Needless to say the idea of losing yourself brings about all sorts of worries, big and small. Who is he? That's important. Where is he supposed to go? That's also important.

A moment later and there's another noise.

<Beep>

Nyssa al Ghul has posed:
Nyssa eyes the light and the beeping. "Well. I feel as though we might find out soon," she murmurs, straightening up and adjusting her clothes. "Perhaps we should take you to a police station," she suggests. "Maybe they can check your fingerprints and see if you're in their systems."

Ben Reilly has posed:
Ben nods to her. That does make the most sense. The police should be able to know how to help him. If he is in their system, that is. If he isn't, at least they'll be able to point him toward the closest shelter. Or, perhaps, the closest psychologist.

The pair make their way towards the entrance of the alleyway and out onto the busy Manhattan street. The closest way to the nearest police station takes them across the street and again, the little device begins to beep. This time, at a slightly faster pace.

Nyssa al Ghul has posed:
Nyssa does not like the sound of that beeping. Especially when it changes. That sounds like tracking...for something that's getting closer. "Ben," she says calmly. "May I see that device again, please?" Not that she thinks she's going to learn anything new about it, but if it comes to making a run for it, better she be able to toss it herself than have to explain to him that it needs to be done.

Ben Reilly has posed:
"Sure," Ben says, "No problem." As the pair walk, he seems to be regaining a bit of composure and his demeanor changes just slightly. It's almost as if he's beginning to see the humor and ridiculousness of the situation.

They make a left turn towards the police station, but as they do, they both will notice the notifications the device sends out will slow down.

Nyssa al Ghul has posed:
Nyssa slips the device into her own pocket, continuing to walk casually down the street. Despite appearances though, her eyes are sharp, checking the streets and the windows around them for any signs of being followed. When the beeping slows, so does her step - best not to look like you're doing anything urgent if you don't want to draw attention.

Ben Reilly has posed:
As they continue to walk towards the police station, the beeping gets slower and slower until it finally stops. About a half block later, the pair reach the police station steps.

Ben looks up at the tall building, hoping that this is a good idea. "Well," he says as he looks back to her. "Thank you for helping me out."

Nyssa al Ghul has posed:
Perhaps not so much a tracker as a device //for// tracking, Nyssa muses to herself, giving the police station a long look. "Would you like me to go in with you?" she offers as she looks back to Ben. "In case they need any more information about where you were found or...Anything else." This is the sort of situation that bears watching, after all.

Ben Reilly has posed:
"Yeah, I mean, sure. If you're not busy," Ben says with a chuckle, not sure why this lady is willing to help him out but thankful that she does.

"You know, I didn't get your name."

Inside the police station it takes an hour to get in front of anyone who will listen. They make Nyssa fill out a report an make Ben as well, the latter of which is pretty empty. The cop assigned to them seems highly skeptical of the story, and seems to be checking for track marks or missing meth teeth.

Finally he gets some information about social services: shrinks, homeless shelters, that sort of thing. And, almost as an afterthought, Ben gets the phone number and address to the pizza joint from the name tag.

Nyssa al Ghul has posed:
"It's Nyssa," the woman introduces herself, going through the motions of filling out reports with cool composure. This is not the first time she's dealt with the police or strange things. It's better to be aware than surprised.

When the police are ready to turn him loose, she pulls a business card from her purse, offering it over to Ben. "Let me get you a hotel room for tonight, at least," she offers. "A more peaceful night might help your memory recover a bit. And if you need anything after that, you can call me."

Ben Reilly has posed:
"No, I think you've helped me enough already. The shelter will be fine, honest." Ben says doing his best to reassure her as he takes the business card and looks it over. He does a double take and tilts his head. Apparently he doesn't think hoity toity art dealers are usually ones to be so nice.

"Thank you. So much."

Nyssa al Ghul has posed:
"It's no more than I would hope someone would do for me, were I to find myself in your situation," Nyssa assures. "One night in a hotel and a phone. And something to eat," she adds with a quick up and down look at him. "It's the least I can do, and it's no hardship to me. Hopefully in a day or two you remember enough to find your own home again."

Ben Reilly has posed:
Ben looks at the card one more time. By her clothing he figures that money may not be a big deal for her. "One night."

And although he doesn't know it, the night is one of the best ones young Ben Reilly has had in quite some time.

***

A week later, curiosity starts to get the better of him. He hasn't been able to find out much about himself, other than he was fired from the pizza place for not having shown up to work (it wasn't the first time) and that his name was, in fact, Ben. He has a shrink appointment with a free clinic in like a week or so. The nice lady at the shelter helps him get his applications ready, but it's hard when you don't have the documentation. She recommends day labor and he spent a few days hanging around immigrants near a convenience store, hoping to get hired for work. He's surprisingly good at it.

But still, that little black device gets the better of him.

Out on the city now, he finds he simply has to know more--anything about himself. As he heads south the beeps grow slightly louder, and slightly more frequent.

He goes south until he can't go south anymore and he points the black device off into the distance, off towards Staten Island. "Oh man, I'm from the Island? Gross."

The ferry is easy to get a ticket for, and within a few hours all of the lights on the little black box are red and it's hum is continual. He leaps a fence into the landfill (it's Staten, of course it's a landfill) and he begins to search out what particular pile holds his secret.

A few moments later he's digging through banana peels and cans someone should have effin' recycled. Finally, he yanks out a blue backpack.

His hands work feverishly now as the sunset has given way to darkness. He has to, simply has to know. He nearly tears the backpack apart, lucky to catch the zipper, and takes a peer inside.

"Holy shit."