3917/=The Power of Chinese Cooking

From Heroes Assemble MUSH
Jump to navigation Jump to search
=The Power of Chinese Cooking
Date of Scene: 24 October 2020
Location: Pearl River Mart
Synopsis: Two adamant objects meet without breaking.
Cast of Characters: Nita Prentiss, Melinda May




Nita Prentiss has posed:
Nita had been staring at the woks for ten minutes, lost in thought, her bright blonde head tilted to one side. Around her racks of ladles and woks swayed gently as other shoppers touched them, searching for the size and metal gauge that suited them. The tails that Nita had on Arthur had turned up several interesting points about the man. Enough for her to wonder if he was embroiled in the undersea politics of Atlantis. He bellowed his neutrality and disinterest loud sufficient for her to suspect him. But there was more to the story, a magic more that only certain Atlanteans would be sensitive to - Namorita was one of them.

One of the people who had been in contact with him frequented this market at times. Chance would have it that the Chinese food bug had bitten the very undomestic Namorita. If someone told her that the only food she could ever eat again was Atlantean, Chinese, or Japanese in origin, she wouldn't be bothered in the least. At least, that is her excuse if she managed not to scare this contact off.

Melinda May has posed:
Off-duty, at least for a few hours, Melinda May is taking the opportunity to restock her pantry with some of the harder-to-find items she enjoys from her sojourns in China. Dressed down in a pair of comfortable jeans, a light sweater, and dark jacket, she carries a reusable canvas bag she has slowly been filling with staples throughout the course of the afternoon. Her latest purchase? A couple of bottles of Baijiu -- a traidtional Chinese liquor made from fermented sorghum. She slides them into her bag, gives the cashier a small smile, and steps back into the flow of pedestrian traffic within the busy Asian market. Her steps take her by the shop with the woks, though she hardly spares them a second glance. She has one, after all, for the rare times she chooses to use it.

Nita Prentiss has posed:
Her reverie nearly makes Nita miss her prey. Though prey could be overstating her case. Namorita is hardly a shark in the high seas of downtown Manhattan. She merely would like to talk to this, on first view, serious faced but unprepossessing woman that blends with the myriad of Asian faces from all countries. Shopping bag in hand, she leaves the shop to walk behind May, her tennis shoes just another beat of footsteps on the busy sidewalk. Nita has yet to decide how she will contact her.

On the spur of the moment, she makes a decision and pushes herself to catch up and place herself at May's side, matching her walk. "Hi, I'm not selling anything or asking for your signature on a petition!" She says a little breathlessly with a disarming smile (younger, Nita might have done that). "Could I talk to you a moment about Arthur Curry?"

Melinda May has posed:
May is about to brush by the woman when two words stop her: Arthur Curry. Her brown eyes go flat. "I don't know who you're talking about," she says coolly, beginning to walk again, her steps crisp and a trifle faster than they were moments ago.

As she goes, she loosens her jacket casually and switches her bag from her right hand to her left. Her eyes stray to windows along the way, watching Nita's reflection as she goes.

Nita Prentiss has posed:
It was naive to think that a perfect stranger would want to talk to her. A myriad of other scenarios flash through Nita's head as she watches May's armor go up and wariness grow. She gropes for what to say next, "We come from the same place, Arthur and I."

A hand uncovers the graceful point of an ear from under the mass of blonde hair. "Well, sort of. Not Maine but his mother was born where I was. Atlantis."

Melinda May has posed:
May's own ears rise and fall briefly. She hears what the other woman says, obviously. She says nothing, though her eyes dart around the busy mall until she spots a side passage that leads away from the crowds. She turns abruptly and makes her way along its narrow length.

As she goes, her mind races. If the woman is being honest, if she is Atlantean, her strength and speed will be greater than May's own. The best chance May will have, if this comes to a conflict, is to be somewhere that makes it difficult for the woman to use the full extent of her abilities. So, open ground is not May's friend.

But even if the woman only wants to talk, May will be damned before she does so in the middle of a busy, public mall.

She glances over her shoulder, expecting that the woman is following, and makes no effort to bolt away from her. On the contrary... she's simply leading her away from the crowds.

Damage control is everything.

Nita Prentiss has posed:
Nita's naivety might extend to the world of espionage but not to the world of fights. In reality, being the scion of a royal house has taught her a lot about both, the daily training as a child under the tutelage of royal guards honed her fighting abilities. No more wishing for collateral damage than she does, she lets May choose the terrain. She doesn't wish to fight.

"Right behind you. We could go someplace private, you know," the Atlantean woman says, raising her voice enough to be heard behind May's back. "I don't want much of your time." To say she is sorry doesn't come easily to the imperious young woman, it occurs to her that politeness might work. "Ah, just a few minutes. I'm sorry to bother you. Arthur isn't always known for giving straight answers."

Melinda May has posed:
May reaches a steel door -- the double door type that usually leads to the maintenance areas of large buildings. Expertly, she pops the knob. It loosens and the door swings inward as she pulls. She turns toward Nita and steps backwards into the empty cooridor beyond. Only once the other woman is through and the door is swinging shut behind her does the SHIELD agent speak.

"I don't know who you are," she says bluntly, "And I don't much care. If you want answers, you won't find them here. I've already told you all I know."

Nita Prentiss has posed:
Nita distributes her weight unconsciously, still holding on to the shopping bag which she could use as a bludgeon if need be. Drawing her athletic frame up to its full height and raising her chin, she gazes at May levelly, "I am Namorita Prentiss, princess of Atlantis. I want to know what Arthur is up to because he /is/ up to something."

Melinda May has posed:
So, now there are Atlanteans after her, thanks to Arthur. If she survives this, May just may kill him. Maybe not literally, but... the impetus is there. "I don't know anything about him," she repeats stubbornly. "And I sure as hell don't need to be involved in Atlantis' business." Indeed, she's worked rather hard *not* to be.

While not actively avoiding him... she's done nothing to pursue him, either. Not since she introduced him to help.

Nita Prentiss has posed:
Frowning, Nita shakes her head. "I no more want you involved in Atlantean business than you want to be involved in it. Believe me. There is something afoot or afloat to be precise. Something magic." Her bright blue gaze goes distant, looking over May's shoulder at some unseen object then snaps back to her.

"I would only like to know why Arthur would involve someone like yourself in our business and why. A moment of your time then if we are lucky, you will never see me again. We don't televise coronations in our land." One up slanted eyebrow raises higher, the ghost of a smile softening the imperious face.

Melinda May has posed:
May's lip curls on one side. Magic. She freakin' hates magic.

She sets her canvas bag down against a wall and slowly reaches into an interior pocket, watching to see how the woman reacts as she does. It's a pocket on her righthand side, not her left. Which means she's using her non-dominant hand to draw the object forth. With a practiced gesture, she opens the small black wallet that contains her SHIELD ID.

"Lady," she says, "I really don't give a damn about your coronations." She displays that badge almost like a protective shield. "But, I'm a SHIELD agent. So, let me be really clear here: I'm *not* involved in your people's politics. So, if you want to know what Arthur Curry is doing meddling in them, then you need to take it up with him. Because the only thing I know about Atlantean politics is that, last I checked, Namor is King. I don't know anything else. And I don't *want* to know anything else."

Right up until she gets back to the Trisk and starts going through as much of the info the agency has on the underwater realms, of course. Because, apparently, she needs to be better prepared in the future.

Nita Prentiss has posed:
Nita's strengths don't include invulnerability, she keeps a passive demeanor and a wary eye on May's hand as the badge is withdrawn from her pocket. "Arthur meddles in them because he could be next in line for the throne. That should be abundantly clear to someone with the resources you have in hand."

She dismisses the badge with a wave of her fingers. "I do not want to be the next Ruler of that realm." A scoff curls the side of her mouth, "Is that what this seems to be? I want to protect it. There is magic involved in this. It sings in my blood, Agent. Who did you introduce to Arthur?"

Melinda May has posed:
"No one," May says, sliding that badge away. She takes up a loose, neutral stance. She's not making any move to attack. She still believes she'd be on the losing end of that action. And the woman is talking, so... that's encouraging? Sort of. May still has no interest in the conversation. She expects that means the woman will get hostile eventually. That's usually what happens.

A dark expression settles on her face. "Lady, I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt -- that you're new around here, not quite used to Surface rules. But, I don't know who you are. So, even if I did introduce Arthur to someone, and I didn't, I sure as hell wouldn't tell you. I don't even know what side you play for."

Nita Prentiss has posed:
Weary of her suspicion, doubtful that she doesn't know her, Nita shakes her head wryly. "I play for the side of Atlantis and for the health of the oceans. No more or less than that. Namor, as insufferable as I find him at times, shall remain as sovereign of that realm for as long as his span of years let him." Lips pressed into a single line of disappointment, Namorita narrows her eyes at May.

"I could break you in half were I of a mind to. It's not how I work. Sometimes protecting what you love makes a person out to be a bad one."

Shrugging, Nita steps back, hands raised in a gesture of letting go, "I've wasted my time and yours. Enjoy your researching. A simple answer would have sufficed. Do you consider Arthur such a precious resource? Then you should have considered me one, too."

With a sniff and a one shouldered shrug, "I've taken enough of my time on this."

Melinda May has posed:
May's expression drains to an impassive neutral as the Atlantean displays the arrogance the Agent is more accustomed to seeing from their kind. She's pretty sure she's going to get tossed through a wall any moment, now. Man, that's gonna hurt.

And then the woman just backs away, throwing her hands up. In May's book? This is the best case scenario. She watches with keen, dark eyes, evaluating the retreat.

As Nita turns to leave, May cautiously picks up her bag. "Seriously," she calls after her. "You wanna know? You talk to Arthur yourself. I'm not getting involved."

She shoulders the bag and backs away, turning the opposite way down the corridor.