3305/So That Went Well

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So That Went Well
Date of Scene: 09 September 2020
Location: Hell's Kitchen
Synopsis: Drake's nefarious plot to root out others like him has succeeded! Nevermind that it wasn't strictly necessary. Rogue catches him red-handed, gives him a lead, and he gives her a few watts for theatrics.
Cast of Characters: Drake Riley, Rogue




Drake Riley has posed:
It's been quite a journey. Traveling from one end of the continental United States to the other, whether on foot, sneaking rides, or hitchhiking, Drake made it to New York City - the epicenter of weird. If ever he was going to find people like himself, it'd have to be here. But if they're anything like him - recent events notwithstanding - they'd be hard to find. Indeed, he's only actually encountered one other mutant so far, and it was fleeting. She was in no better position than he was. There had to be more. There just had to.

And he wanted to meet someone he could try to be like. It's a longshot, but it's the only play he's got at having the kind of future he'd want.

However, the only way he could think of to draw people like that out isn't exactly something he takes pleasure in. He left the West Coast to get away from his life as a criminal. And now, it seems the only way to move forward is to get back into it. With perhaps a little extra theatrics.

A hoodie in this weather, even at night, is weird enough and sends most convenience store clerks into suspicion. But with the addition of a baseball cap, /and/ the hood drawn up over it to create additional layers of protection? That's just a big red flag. The sunglasses worn to top it off? No, the guy behind the counter already has his finger near the silent alarm.

As for what Drake's doing? Just milling around the shop, biding his time until the last remaining person leaves. He has no intention of risking anyone 'unqualified' being a hero. So far, he's had a solid track record of zero property damage and only mild 'assault' on clerks. The legalese in these situations are a little unclear to him still. He's pretty sure it qualifies.

At last, Captain Obviously Up-To-Something moves to the counter. "Okay, let's be real," he says to the man across from him. "You know what's about to go down. I know that camera's on me." He bobs his head slightly leftwards. A camera is in the corner there, watching him. He's counting on it. "Is there an alarm you're hitting already? It's cool, it's whatever. But look."

His hands lift, bare as can be. No weapons! "I'm not gonna shoot you."

And instantly, the clerk is demanding he leave. Because what's the threat, right?

"Nono, I need.. like.. a twenty. Out of the register. Then I'm out."

The insistance that he leave intensifies.

Suddenly, tendrils of brilliant blue electricity begin to dance between his fingers. "You don't have a pacemaker, right?"

Rogue has posed:
'Mighty Woman' was out on patrol tonight.

At least, that's what the media would say if they were in charge of the headline. You see, Rogue got that name recently in Mutant Town when she showed up to where Magneto was to help dissuade him in to coming with her, rather than stick around in Mutant Town and make tensions raise any higher than they already were...

The price of not speaking to the media, is that they often name you, themselves...

Oh well. She knows who she is.

Rogue is also aware of Hell's Kitchen's reputation, and after hearing about a spike in petty theft, armed robberies and the like, she swoops in from the north down to the mid-west section of Manhattan; down to Hell's Kitchen.

The Belle is about a block away at the moment, darting from one building to another. Her green eyes are down on the street as she watches people milling about. A little kid in a window saw her leap from one building to another, and he's pointing up at her, talking to his little sister who is now looking out of the window too.

Rogue smiles at the kids, and waves a yellow gloved hand at them before she darts off to vanish over the building's roof, walking now on her knee-high yellow boots, stepping up on the opposite ledge of the room and just standing there now, with her two-toned hair blowing in the warm late summer winds.

Drake Riley has posed:
The demonstration of power seems to have caused a change in the clerk's demeanor. Imagine that. The panic button has been hit a few times now, issuing a silent alarm to the police, and his hands raise up.

"Come on, you heard me. Twenty-spot," Drake notes. One sparking finger bobs towards the register indicatively.

The clerk starts to reach for it, then pauses and explains, stammering, that he has to make a purchase to open the register.

"Uhh," Drake falters. That's a first. He glances around the counter quickly and lands on a scratch-off lottery ticket. His left hand ceases sparking, and he presents it to the man.

The clerk taps at the register, the drawer pops open, and-

"I mean, if I'm stealing it, may as well spot me a penny, right?," Drake interjects.

The clerk shoots him a side-eyed look, then sets a penny on the counter. Bracing the ticket with the side of his hand, he scratches off the first panel.

'JACKPOT'.

Drake scratches off the second panel: 'JACKPOT'

The two share a dubious look. Drake scratches off the third panel: 'BUST'

"My man, you and I were about to go to Jamaica," sighs Drake. "Okay, so that twenty?"

The clerk retrieves the bill from the register, then pauses, giving him a confused look.

"What? I'm hungry, I'm not a monster." The man becomes skeptical again, and Drake's right hand lifts, digits alive with coiling electricity. He points at it with the left. "Hello! Still a thing! Come on."

Rogue has posed:
Rogue has a small earpiece in her right ear, and though she wishes it was playing some sweet music, it is in fact playing the police frequency, a neat little toy she got from a friend. Only at the moment, the bulk of what the police dispatchers were talking about were ambulance traffic related to concerns that didn't sound that viable for her to show up and contribute to in any sort've positive way.

With a huff, Rogue steps off of the roof of the building and just drops down to the sidewalk.

It's currently empty of foot traffic, so no one notices her land. She stuffs her gloved hands into her pockets and just starts walking. Of course, she's dressed in her green and gold bodysuit, so even with a jacket on, her lower body still stands out, for which she gets a few comments for as she walks past a group of guys coming out of a pub.

She just smiles at them, and waves, but keeps on walking.

As luck -- arguably -- would have it, she's headed right in the direction of the corner store that Drake is having his little party in!

Drake Riley has posed:
But it seems it's last call at the party and Rogue may be fashionably late as the clerk, at last, tentatively sets the twenty on the counter. For what it's worth, police have certainly been dispatched to deal with a potential robbery in progress.

The brilliant blue lightshow cuts off, and Drake swipes up the twenty. Though after a beat, he collects the scratched ticket and penny as well. "I was gonna leave it, but y'know. Fingerprints," he notes. His obscured face lifts to the camera that's been watching all of this, and he waves his hand to it. Cheeky bugger.

Police sirens start to sound as Drake emerges from the shop, potentially right in front of Rogue.

Rogue has posed:
Rogue is indeed just a handful of steps away. She'd heard the police radio in her ear talking aobut a about a convenient store robbery, she just didn't think it would statistically be the one she's standing directly in front of when Drake comes bursting out of it.

That's when she realizes it is...

So the two of them are there, just staring at each other. He in his street clothes, hood and such, her in a leather bomber jacket and a very flashy bodysuit of green and gold hues... she looks like a 'super', or at least a cosplayer of some kind.

"H-hey!" Rogue says then, her yellow gloved hands coming out of her pockets. "Don't move!" She states, sharply, pointing right at the man as her white bangs flow around her face in the outdoor winds, partially obscuring her face in fact, but her green eyes are quite visibly locked on Drake!

Drake Riley has posed:
Slightly taller than the white-streaked brunette in bomber jacket, Drake at first didn't think much of it. But who wears that much green casually? It gets a second look. Bright gold accents. The clingy material of it, the fact that it's a bodysuit-

His heart stops.

The culprit in question, the one she can reasonably assume is locking eyes with her through the veil of his plastic sunglasses - is smiling at her. Brightly. Excitedly, even.

"Oh my god, you're..." He pauses, gaze flicking as if scanning his memory for any traces of who she might be. Nope, nada. "...you're like a superhero, right?," he asks. There's no hiding the enthusiasm or joy in his voice. He's starstruck.

Rogue has posed:
Rogue was admittedly surprised by Drake's reaction...

She'd thought he was gonna run from her, for sure.

Her hands at her sides, fists balled up inside of her yellow gloves, she flicks her chin to the side to cast her white hair out of her face, then just stares down her nose at him, her chin lifted up a bit defiantly at his presence, because he... is a criminal and she...

"That's right." She says, channeling Carol as best as she can. "And you're not gonna move a step till the cops are here." She puts her fists up on toher hips then and moves her feet apart a little to stand there, triumphantly. She's hamming htis up a bit, because it's kind of fun for the 20 year old girl whose also a car hop at a diner in upstate New York.

"I am Rogue, and I am the powerful guardian of this city. One'a the big ones, like Wonder Woman, ya see." She adds. "Won't be long before I'm an Avenger, full on, so you should be proud t'get stopped by me." The young woman says, her southern accented husky-toned voice makes it very clear she's not from around here.

Drake Riley has posed:
Everything about it is awesome, and the fact this 'Rogue' girl is playing into it just makes it all the more thrilling. She's effectively the quintessential feminine superheroine he'd pictured: radiating confidence, beautiful, and strong. Granted, he hasn't seen anything to warrant the latter assumption, but the confidence plays into that. "That's so cool," he finally says. His enthusiasm wanes, however, at the mention of the police. The sirens can be heard in the distance - won't be long before they arrive. "I-.. I guess that's your call to make," he posits. "But, here."

From the central pouch of his hoodie, he produces a twenty dollar bill, one penny, and a used scratch-off lottery ticket that didn't win anything.

"Here's what I took. Um, verify it with the dude inside if you need to, it's all there."

Speaking of 'the dude inside', the clerk is standing in the middle of the store and just staring at the visual of what's unfolding. He can't make heads or tails of this.

"I'm not trying to pull anything on ya. Take it," Drake insists, inching a little closer with the items in palm and on offer. "But before the cops get here, ah-..." His free hand raises to lightly scratch at his cheek, nervousness obvious. "...I wanna be up-front with you. They won't get it. They'll laugh at me." She might, too. He doesn't know. "I was hoping I'd run into someone like you."

Rogue has posed:
Rogue's green eyed gaze continues to just defiantly stare-down at Drake, at least until he approaches her with what he took from the store, then she relents a bit and just looks down at the items. Her hands go out and she accepts them between her gloved fingers and palms if he does indeed hand them over.

The last couple things he said confused her, let alone his meager selection of stolen items being a little less than stunning as far as 'hauls' go. Convenient store robberies in general are lackluster, but this took it to another level...

"What the hell would someone take this for?" She asks, her eyes going up to his as she locks stares with him again. "They'd laugh at ya cause you---" She pauses, her dark eyebrows lower down some and her eyes squint. "You wanted t'meet a super?" She asks.

"Why?"

The cop sirens are just down the street, she can hear them of course, but her full attention is on Drake at the present.

Drake Riley has posed:
Indeed, there's no trickery afoot here. The items are passed over to her. "To be fair, the lottery ticket wasn't scratched when I got it." Because he's not gonna steal a scratched-off ticket. Why, that would be asinine.

His hands stuff into the central pouch of the hoodie as she evaluates what she's been given. As a crook, he knows this is about as meager as a hit can get. It'd be considered a bad take even for a mugging, he's sure.

The question isn't answered immediately. He never really considered how he'd respond to it, even though it's the most obvious thing he'd be asked. His head lowers a little, and his right hand slips from the pouch.

"I wanted to meet someone like me," he says. His hand lifts to about sternum-height, and brilliant blue tendrils of buzzing electricity begin to crawl between his digits and along his palm. "One who wasn't... I dunno the word. Destitute?" He shakes his head. "Someone who was doing something bigger than themselves with it." The electricity cuts off, and his arm drops to his side. A sullenly self-conscious note enters his voice, "I couldn't think of any other way to do it."

Rogue has posed:
They live in a complicated world... to say the least.

Rogue's eyes are over on the store, staring inside at the Clerk within when the light show is put on display in front of her causing her to look back at Drake. The electric show he puts on illuminates her face and body for a few moments before her eyes go from the sight of it up to his face.

"This was a silly way t'accomplish that goal." She straight up tells him. "But... I get it." She adds. Her eyes look back over her shoulder, to where the Police are coming from. She then looks back at him and motions back with a thumb.

"Ya gotta turn yourself in. I'll talk to'em about what was goin' on here. They might think it's a little less crazy if it's comin' from me. Not that they have any idea who I am, but, hell, I wasn't involved in this. But if you're tryin' t'do the right thing here, ya gotta not do what they think you'll do. That only ever makes trouble with the law tons worse."

Rogue grips the items he'd given her. "Are you a mutant?" She finally just asks him. "I mean, did ya get those powers at like... twelve or thirteen?" that might easier for an unknown to answer than whether or not his genetic code says Mutant, he may not have any idea!

Drake Riley has posed:
Drake Riley shrinks a little when she admonishes his approach. He was desperate; that's his excuse. And crime is what he knows. But it sucks to be reprimanded by someone in a costume who may or may not have a Saturday morning cartoon made about her some day.

At the insistance that he turn himself in, he winces. Mouth opens to protest, but he defers to let her finish what she's saying. And the sudden follow-up question jolts him out of responding to it immediately.

"I don't-," he starts to say. No, he has no idea what he is. His family assumed mutant. "Sixteen," he replies.

"Rogue," he says, voice softened in redirect. He fidgets with his 'disguise', first adjusting the wide plastic sunglasses, then tugging the bill of his cat downwards a degree more, and finally pulling the hood of the hoody further forward. "If they take me in, it's all over, isn't it? They'll know. That'll be it." No more safety net.

Rogue has posed:
Rogue feels empathy for him, she gets the sense that he's homeless, like she was. Only she had the timely arrival of the X-Men to bail her out of the Brotherhood that was hot on her trail. He seems to be amongst those who've not gotten an opportunity like that.

She shakes her head at his words. "You won't be stuck with them." She says. "If all you've done is little shit like this." She holds up the 'haul' he took from the store. "Your bail will be a joke. I'll arrange t'have ya bailed out. They'll let ya go."

She glances again toward the cops on their way, then back to Drake. "Look, I live in Westchester, north'a here. I work at a place near Salem Center called Mel's Diner. Ya can find me there, just ask for Rogue, or Marie. Once you get out, make your way up there if ya really want t'explore these powers'a yours. If ya don't? If this is all just a trick? Well... then the 'super' who arrested ya tonight will also be postin' your bail, so you're slicker at this than ya seem at first."

The Southern Belle shows Drake a quick grin before she motions to the curb. "Now, ya should probably sit down and put your hands up, cause you're gonna have a buncha folks shouting at ya t'do that in a few seconds..."

Drake Riley has posed:
Drake Riley tries to hide the panic from creeping into his voice, "But they'll /know/." His head snaps briefly to the convenience store's door, then back to her. "I used my powers to try to get people like you to come out. They'll know I'm different. They'll have my prints, my name. They'll have everything!"

His bottom lip is taken between his teeth, worrying over it. A tilting glance past the female reveals it might even be too late now; the cop cars are in sight. He swallows hard.

"I went through so much to cover my trail and keep it hidden." He falls back a step, hands raising to press against his face, fingertips beneath the lenses of his shades. Turning, his back plants against the side of the building, and he sinks down until he's just seated on the sidewalk, head dropping to folded arms. "They're gonna know...," he repeats, now at a defeated murmur.

Rogue has posed:
Rogue observes all of this and she just shakes her head lightly at it, glances away in to the winds to let her hair get swept off of her face as she considers 'other options'. She looks back over to him then.

"Then shock me." She says. "Hit me with that lightning, and make a run for it. I already told ya how ya can find me later, if ya wanna explore this ... these ... abilities ya have. But if ya steal again, I'll find ya myself and I'll make sure ya get arrested next time."

She steadies herself then and puts the items he stole in to her jacket pocket. She reaches out her left hand to hold it out at him to 'put on a show' for the clerk inside.

"Now do it. Hit me with your lightnin'." The Belle tells him. "Don't worry, it won't hurt me..." She quietly adds "Just run like the dickens down the alley behind the store and hit the sewers at the end of it,".

Drake Riley has posed:
Drake Riley's head quickly lifts, dumbfounded. Shock her? Hit her with lightning? Won't that make things worse? Sure, she says it won't hurt her /now/, but he's never come across someone who doesn't get hurt by a zap. Granted, he's been refining his control over it for more than a year obsessively - anyone he's hit, it's ben at an extremely low and non-lethal level. Static zaps, for the most part. Most people don't need more than that to be convinced to leave someone alone. But she's a superhero, right?

He doesn't have time to think about it. Cop cars are pulling up. He hopes she's right.

The teen shoots to his feet and thrusts his left hand towards her. A thin bolt of dark blue electricity snaps from his palm to her chest, no more than a single *CRACK* of force.

Without a word, he's pivoting on heel and darting around the corner of the building. And just in time. Cops saw a superpower being used against someone on their team. A couple shots were fired.

Rogue has posed:
Rogue has her eyes shut when the blast hits her chest, and it sends her flying backward! Whether Drake's ability was capable of that or not, she used a bit of her own flight power to make sure it had that dramatic effect! She's launched backward and bounces off a brick wall only to end up on her right side on the ground in front of a cell phone store!

This is where the cops are that pull up and find her, two of them coming to check on her as she's not knocked out, in fact she starts to rise up to her feet again. Her suit is a bit dirtied up, her hair is way more poofy than it was before...

But she's okay.

The Belle goes on to offer the Cops an explanation on what happened out here, that she thought he was just a normal crook, but turns out that wasn't hte case. She turns over what he stole too... as this was her first interaction with Police, it's a bit tense for her... she doesn't enjoy talking to cops, as she's half expecting them to arrest her for what happend in San Francisco when she was 16, but... they never got her name back then!

Drake Riley has posed:
In much the similar way, these cops could arrest Drake on crimes he'd committed over the past few years. It would've been worse, had they gotten him now. So many chickens would've come to roost, and his identity as something other than strictly human would've been known. That, he imagines, would get the book thrown at him, even if he'd stopped when his powers manifested.

But Rogue has given him a chance to get on track. She put some trust in him. He put some trust in her. They'll meet in the middle and see how it lands. That is, when Drake can think clearly again. He's never been shot at before. That's a jarring experience. But fleeing the police is nothing new, and though New York may be a new concrete jungle, it still has all the vines he's used to. And in short order, he's vanished down a drain and into the sewer.

Where, you know, his one set of clothing is bound to improve in smell. Great.