7670/Sometimes You Just Don't Want To Cook

Sometimes You Just Don't Want To Cook
Date of Scene:	02 September 2021
Location:	The Wick
Synopsis:	In a crowded room, Mike, Helmut, and Thomas have a toast to a hero they can all agree to toasting. Many drinks were had.
Cast of Characters:	Michael Hannigan, Helmut Zemo, Thomas Blake
Tinyplot:	Theme_of_the_Crime

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Michael Hannigan has posed:
Thursday evenings, while not the same as Friday or Saturday, are quite busy at the Wick. The more experienced college students who have become scheduling masters are already starting off their three day weekends. Some of the working class are here just to get enough good vibes in to survive just one more day in the office. As for Mike?

Well, truth be told. Sometimes a guy just wants to take a break from cooking his own dinner and the the french dip is nothing to laugh at at the Wick. So Mike has managed to wrangle him a nice table off to the side. A feat of itself because this place is paaaaaacked. Woe be the next person who comes into this bar!

Helmut Zemo has posed:
     As if the college crowd needed a reason to gather together and imbibe copious amounts of alcohol. Luckily that wasnt the reason for Zemo's sojourn to The Wick. He had looked for a good sandwich on his phone, and it was suggested that The Wick was a great place for a French Dip. His tray contained a cup of jus, the fries, and a steamy hot sandwich with melted provolone.

  "Excuse me..." He says in his husky voice. "Would you mind sharing your table?" He asked Mike, before looking around. "Seems like I picked a busy night." He comments, giving a small smile.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Hearing the unique voice, the musician's head turns towards the source. Pale eyes setting upon the newcomer smiling to him, Mike feels compelled to return the visual greeting. "Sure." He replies, glancing down to the table to move his own plate and glass closer to him, freeing up some more of the real estate. "Yes, this place can get crowded on Thursdays." Mike attention shifts to what Zemo has and grins, "But I have a feeling you'll find that worth the hassle." He nods to his own sandwich, "Why I'm risking the crowds tonight, myself as well."

Helmut Zemo has posed:
     "Nobody can say no to a delicious sandwich." He admits, sliding up to a chair and setting down his meal. "Thank you." He says, pulling his chair in and a napkin placed on his lap. "I am guessing you are not a student." He asks, taking a bite after dipping.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike glances over to the boisterous students, and shakes his head. "Not in that sense." He reaches over to grab his glass, "GED's the furthest I went degree wise." Pulling his glass over to his lips he pauses to glance over to Zemo. "But that doesn't mean I've stopped learning. It's just more independent study and the occasional tutor."

The glass lowers before he takes a sip. "One thing I'm apparently bad at is conversations. Skipped past the name part." He gives a slight two fingered salute in greeting, saving the tablemate the pressure of having to drop the sandwich. "I'm Mike."

Name given, he resumes sipping his beer.

Helmut Zemo has posed:
     "Of course." That husky voice comments, before continuing. "One should never stop learning. It is the folly of fools to do so." Zemo conclused, before nodding back to Mike. "Helmut." Strange name. But then again, his accent definitely gave him away as European.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike lowers the glass. "Helmut..." He repeats, "That's not a very common name around here." He pauses, "Well, maybe Yorkville." The pauses, "So, I suspect you too are not one of the typical college crowd." He pauses, "Otherwise you'd know about how some of them manage to start their weekends a day early."

Helmut Zemo has posed:
     "Correct. University was many years ago for me." Zemo offers, before looking to the crowd. "And I am from Europe. As you probably guessed."

  His pilsner glass tipped up for a moment, drinking in the nectar. "And yourself?"

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"Not as far for me." Mike admits, "Homewise it's been split between Gotham and New York. But I do get to travel a bit for work. Actually, did Ireland and Italy in May. I'll probably hit Europe again early next year. Whereabouts in Europe are you from?"

Helmut Zemo has posed:
     Zemo tipped up the glass once more, setting it down before closing his eyes a moment, and opening them, looking to Mike's. "Sokovia." The name was worldwide news years ago, the country decimated by the Sentinel uprising.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike grows quiet, smile that had been forming in the conversation going the way of Sokovia. "Oh." He frowns slightly. "Were you there when-" He stops, uncertain how to to describe the destruction that was conveyed in the news.

Helmut Zemo has posed:
     "I was deployed out of country...when it happened." Theres a solemnity there as he says it. Without mentioning he lost everyone he held dear to him, his face betrays his otherwise stoic demeanor.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"Ah." Mike's loss for words linger for a few moments, processing the expression being displayed, along with the whereabouts. He takes a deep breath, letting out a sigh, "Doesn't make it any better." No request for a confirmation. Just statement.

He takes a moment to take a long sip of his beer. Using the moment to gather his thoughts. Thinking of possible ways to steer the thought process away from the topic. The jus is salty enough without adding more to it.

Helmut Zemo has posed:
     Zemo tips his glass up again, drawing in the beer. "I missed a good beer." At least its a truth, and not sad.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
A glance is given to Helmut, thankful for the topic change. A small smile emerges as Mike gives a nod to the sentiment. "Well then. We shouldn't let it stop at just the one then. How about I get the next round?"

Helmut Zemo has posed:
     "Very well." Zemo offers up in bis husky voice, before raising his glass to Mike. "Prost!"

  At least, the mood has changed to this side of positive.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Behold the power of beer. Smile strengthening his own glass gives a slight lift. "Slainte." After sipping his drink once more, he sets the glass down, catching the eye of one of the servers. He holds up a finger before gesturing to both beer glasses and then to himself. After getting a nod, he glances back to Helmut. "So, how long were you without good beer?"

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake is dressed in his leathers. The Catman gear is stored. A messenger pouch is slung over one shoulder. He wrinkles his nose at the crowd. This is not pleasant to someone with his nose. He weaves through the vapid, the phone obsessed, and the tipsy. He doesn't jostle or bump anyone though in his passing more tan one head turns; male, and female. And he stands there drinking his beer, eying the herd, seeing who wants a fight or... the other f-word.

Meh.

Helmut Zemo has posed:
     "Three years, give or take a month or so." Helmut answers, before setting down the glass and sandwich. He even started to look...happy.

  It wasnt until he eyed Thomas Blake that he turned back to Mike, and stared into his beer for a moment.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike's brow raises at the time period. "Damn. That is a long time." He comments, "I probably shouldn't complain when I have to forgo it just for a month or two then. Hell, If you're still up for it I'll get you a second round."

Seeing Helmut glance to the side and look away, the pale eyed musician continues looking in that direction. Recognizing the man, Mike gives a wave to Thomas. When he's sure he's gotten the man's attention, he gestures over to one of the other empty seats at the table, just in case the man is prowling for a place to sit in the crowded establishment.

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake is noticing a young lady noticing him. He gives her the arched eyebrow and the bad boy smirk, but then notices Mike and... someone else. He makes an excuse to the young woman who makes a face until he hands her a card. He weaves towards the table in question. "Mike... I have news. I just got in from Gotham. The show is getting a green light! They made me an executive producer after I helped finance it. Also ... you would not believe how easy it is for an executive producer to get tail. Oh sorry... I didn't mean to intrude. I'll call you. Hello." He acknowledges Zemo, staring at him for a moment.

Helmut Zemo has posed:
     Well hell. There he was. Zemo at least hopes that he isnt immediately given up. "Hello." He offers to Thomas, before taking another drink. "I would not be rude and turn you down. But you must allow me to purchase yours." He floats that prospect to the undercover rocker. The waitress comes back, dropping off the two ordered beers, and looks to Thomas with a cordial smile. "What can I get you?" She asks, through the cacophany of the college crowd.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Not expecting the sudden drop to business when Thomas arrives. Mike's brow rises as his hand lowers to the table. Really? That show got green lit? But the explanation to how they got funding and Thomas's description of added sucess in a certain topic does force the musician to stifle a chuckle. "I have a strong feeling that it's not just being an executive producer that had something to do with it." Mike muses, smiling back over to Helmut, "Alright. Fair enough. We'll do that."

Pausing long enough to give a pleasant smile and a soft thanks to the server, he shifts the glass to sit next to his near empty one.

Upon the server being finished, he glances over to the two guys. Remembering the conversation etiquette this time around, "Oh Thomas, this is Helmut. Helmut. Thomas." There! One possible bit of awkward conversation out of the way!

The hand directs over to one of the empty seats, "You're welcome to a seat if you're looking for one. Place is packed."

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake orders another plain old beer.

Helmut? No second name? He can respect privacy sure. Rockstars seem to collect fairly lethal people it seems. Terry is the exception. He's too damn cute to be lethal.

"Thank you, Helmut. It's a pleasure to meet you. You have to let me buy the next round. I insist."

In supervillain jargon that reads more like 'I know who you are but I'm not going to narc you.'

So-called villains are actually pretty polite. Fights between them can lead to maiming at the very least. There's none of this trick shot or nerve punch bullshit. Also if it is not Helmut Zemo, no need to be an asshole.

He wises he could get a selfie to share with that Anarky twerp. This is the flag smashing, hero thrashing mutha of them all if he can believe it. He sits down.

"Oh Mike, one piece of business. I asked for an audition for a particular actor for the commissioner role: Simon Trent."

Helmut Zemo has posed:
     Zemo's eyes darken just a moment as Thomas gets the code across. At least he wouldnt be made here. "Very well then."

  Zemo's about as inconspicuous as supervillains get, bland clothing, other than his swept hair, nothing specifically tying him visually to who he is.

  "Simon Trent? The Grey Ghost? He's still alive?" Actually suprised that he would still be alive now, those shows were old when he was a kid.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
As Thomas puts in his order and goes through the pleasantries of meeting a new person he absolutely positively knows nothing about, the rocker pops what little is left of the sandwich before him. Unlike Zemo, he had a bit more of a head start on his meal. Wiping his fingers on the napkin to eliminate some of the salty residue of the jus. He quietly chews.

Thomas's mention of who they're eyeing for the commissioner role gets rewarded with a blink and him chewing faster and swallowing his food. "That sounds good. He's a pretty... hard worker. Just saw him last Friday at a charity event doing a Gray Ghost stage show." Mike looks over to Helmut, giving a nod. "Yep. Trent is still alive and kicking." Sometimes literaly. "They did a reunion series just last year."

Thomas Blake has posed:
And with Helmut's reaction Thomas is no longer Catman but a fan. "He is. he's been trying to get a reunion series together. I think he could use the exposure of this new show though. He'd not have to appear in every episode. I loved the show. I have a debt to repay there as well... he was very kind to a beginning actress. Sienna was her name. She was my mom... a while later. She thought the world of Simon Trent and gave me the series to watch. Gentlemen, a toast to Mr. Trent and the Gray Ghost. One hero everyone likes." He raises his glass.

Helmut Zemo has posed:
     Zemo raises his glass to Simon Trent, at least one hero he looked up to as a child. "Prost!" He exclaims. "So, best of luck with the series, then. I hope it serves you both well." He drinks the toast, before switching to the new perspiring glass.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike nods, hand resting on his glass. "Probably the only consistent thing from when I lived with my mom and when I lived with my aunt was Gray Ghost on broadcast." Yay reruns. The glass lifts to share in the toast. "To Mr. Trent." Downing the remaining portion of that glass, he sets the empty glass down before taking the other glass. Hearing the well wish Mike gives a nod to Zemo, smiling. "Thanks. I hope it turns out well." He looks over to Thomas, "Lets make something good."

PLEASE.

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake knocks his glass back and grabs the second. He takes a large sip of it before signaling for anther round. "They're keeping that clown but now they aren't calling him Joker. Jester I think. I had to yield on that to get Mr. Trent and honestly, no mentioning Joker could draw him in. Anything can or nothing. He might even like Jester as a tribute. Batman should get off his ass and put him down once and for all. I don't know how he sleeps at times. Not that I was ever a saint."

Helmut Zemo has posed:
     "The Joker is a lunatic. He should be executed, the risk to the world is too high. But one can admit that there is something well intentioned by the Batman's method. Incorrect as it may be."

  The glass is grabbed and he takes that drink. "Well. Nobody is a saint."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"Most anyone who claims to be a saint is lying. Whether they know it or not." Mike murmurs, looking over to Thomas, "Has anyone explained to whoever they're casting for Jester what he's possibly in for if they take the role? Have they displayed signs of coherent thought?"

As the night continues, more small talk is exchanged as the beers keep coming. The number of rounds they go through is eventually lost track of only for the bills at the end of the night to become a sobering reminder.

Yes, MANY drinks were consumed.