8867/That one Christmas

That one Christmas
Date of Scene:	29 November 2021
Location:	Central Park
Synopsis:	Reed returns with a plan
Cast of Characters:	Reed Richards, Roland Livingston

---

Reed Richards has posed:
"Silver bells, silver bells It's Christmas time in the city Ring-a-ling, hear them sing Soon it will be Christmas day Strings of street lights Even stop lights Blink a bright red and green As the shoppers rush home with their treasures." Yes, Christmas in the city and the shoppers really are rushing what few have decided to brave the wind swept great lawn in lat November to cross the island. They stick to the paths the grassy areas usually the sight of softball of soccer, are either frozen of a sloppy muddy mess, or worse a bit of both. The weather is cold but clear and the wind is brisk, carrying a chill that might even portend a snow flake or two in the near future. Still over all it's a festive spirit, except for the buzzing, where is that infernal buzzing coming from and is it getting louder? Very odd indeed, it sounds like... but it is far too late in the season for that and still the volume, they'd have to be the size of dogs or horses.

Roland Livingston has posed:
Lots of shopping to do, so little time. At least for some people. Roland doesn't really have anybody to buy for, except for the guys who maintain and operate his fleet of vehicles. Is a fancy watch too much for those guys? Not for Roland. Having done his shopping, walking away from the jewelers with a bag full of Rolexes, he's traversing Central Park, enjoying the walk back to his penthouse.

The various people he passes are given nods or little waves, but soon his attention is occupied by something else. Buzzing. Where is it coming from? The young Englishman starts looking around, trying to spot where the noise might originate. "Are those drones?" he asks a passerby. "That are making those noises? They're quite out of place."

Reed Richards has posed:
The sky in middle of the lawn is rent asunder in a panoramic display that is every bit as beautiful as it is jarring, you can see the realities fighting to overlay one another at its edge, it is off putting in the least and quite unsettling to the everyday sort of humanity that has broken into a hurried jog away from this locale. What happens next is even more unusual as what might have once been a man but now appears more of a conglomeration of wet noodles plummets from the aperture, he is fifty in the air and dropping seeming unconsciously towards the ground, oh and it seems that you have found the source of the noise as a half dozen wasps varying in size from a large dog to a small horse zip through in pursuit of our falling hero, or maybe it's the jelly he's covered in?

Roland Livingston has posed:
"Damn," mutters Livingston when he sees the giant bugs flying through the air. He looks around for a place to put his bag of watches and ends up more or less tossing them to a houseless looking lady, "Merry Christmas. It's probably best if you flee." Then he rotates his neck on his shoulders, then hops lightly up and down on the balls of his feet, then starts moving towards the large wasps and the man they're chasing after. From under his jacket he draws a handgun, does a press check and starts taking aim at the flying creatures. When his sights are lined up on one of the beasts furthest from the guy who's tumbling through the air he starts cycling the trigger to send round after round towards the insect. As the falling fellow plummets Roland stops shooting and moves to try to catch him. "Shouldn't there be an orange chap here to do this?"

Reed Richards has posed:
Reed Richards lands in a heap but the impulse seems enough to rouse him. He shakes his head and gets to his feet unstabily, coughing up blood. His hair and beard are a mess overgrown and he has bruises over most of his body, no sting wounds which might mean these are new adversaries of that his peculiar anatomy renders him mostly immune. Either way, he reaches out, wrapping an arm around one and hurling it boduly at another. The large Insects, if that's what they are, have hardened carpaces that shed bullets pretty easily, but a lucky shot shows you that the connective tissue between thoraxes and abdomens and heads is still fair gain, and another shows that their wings are even more delicate as you rip a hole in one's wing and cause it to plummit to earth which much greater effect than it had on Reed.

Roland Livingston has posed:
"I'll take on the lot of you flying monsters!" Roland yells at the bugs as he lets Reed do his thing. "Over here, you giant bastards!" Quite impolite, but sometimes the best way to attract the attention of monsters that need slaying is to make loud noises. Speaking of loud noises, he goes back to aiming and firing his pistol, this time trying to target the wings of another wasp. Bang! Bang! "I can sting, too! Don't like that much, do you?" As the first he got through the wings falls to the ground near him Roland leaps in an attempt to land atop it, ready to dump more rounds through the softer tissue between it's head and thorax.

"Doctor Richards, I presume?" Mr. Livingston asks. "Are you doing okay?"

Reed Richards has posed:
Reed Richards blinks, and looks about a bit wobbily but releived. Taking in Roland, the park, the skyscrapers in the far distance. "Oh thank heavens." He produces a bulky device and checks the reading, "Yes, yes, this is the Prime Earth, indeed. AHAH! I made it! I knew it would work." He seems abit deranged like someone who has been alone in the wilderness too long. Surviving on wits and grit. Now that you know what to aim for your gun takes it toll, and the cold also seems to be sapping their strength, as they're getting slower, moving with less purpose and more meandering, he nods, "Yes, I am Dr. Richards. What day is it? Pay them no mind, the cold will take its toll on them in a matter of minutes an hour at most." He scrapes the jelly off and splatters it on the ground, letting the wasps consume it.

Roland Livingston has posed:
As the bugs seems not to want to go about bothering anyone now that the jelly is off of the (mad?) scientist, Roland performs and tactical reload, safeties his pistol and holsters it back under his jacket. "It's Monday, the twenty ninth of November, twenty twenty one," the Englishman says to Richards, studying the man again for a moment before going back to watching the wasps in case they decide to get hungry and start eating people. "Are you hungry? Thirsty? Can I get you something?" Once certain the giant monsters aren't going to start attacking he taps himself on the chest and nods deeply, "I'm Roland Livingston, by the way. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

Reed Richards has posed:
Reed Richards smiles and nods, the irony of being found by a Livingston not lost on him. "Thank you, Mr. Livingston, as I am pleased to make yours, thank you for coming to my rescue. Truly? Less than a month? That is good news, there is still a chance then. Hmm? Food, yes, yes I am famished and my throat is burning. Tea, maybe a burger?" As you watch the wasps seem to waver and fall over on the ground succumbing to the elements.

Roland Livingston has posed:
"You're most welcome, Doctor," Livingston tells Reed with a smile. "Tea and a burger? Very good choice. There are all manner of burger joints in this neck of the woods." Looking around to get his bearings, making sure he knows where he is in relation to various restaurants and whatnot, he says, "Lets try that one over there." He points towards a storefront type burger restaurant just outside of the park. Then he extends his right hand towards Richards, whether for a shake or so the other man can steady himself is up in the air. "So, you say there's still a chance to do something? I'm quite good at things, if you'll share with me I may be able to assist, or at least be a sounding board for you to bounce ideas off of."

Reed Richards has posed:
Reed Richards does take the hand gratefully and steadies himself, "Yes, that looks lovely. Yes, indeed. Quite perceptive, but where to start are you familiar with the mutltiversal theory of universal structure? That out universe is an infinite blueberry loaf where each universe represents a blueberry in the loaf and that within this universal space there are vibrating at different quantum oscillatory frequencies other universe occupying more or less this same space?"

Roland Livingston has posed:
Helping Richards along, Roland heads towards the burger shop, "I'm somewhat familiar with the concept. I'm a scholar of the arcane, primarily, but my education in the sciences isn't particularly lacking." At the explanation the scientist gives the younger fellow nods his head a few times, "We exist alongside an infinite number of parallel possibilities, all of which are occurring at the same time but on different frequencies?"

Reed Richards has posed:
Reed Richards says, "Yes, quite, there have been a few incursion across the mutiversal divide from different access points, what is colloquially known as the the bleed. These have been for the large part repelled. Some have even turned to be friends thrown on distant shores. The most recent was an incursion through the quantum realm by an alternate race of Kree, using a bleed battle group. It wasn't easy but I repelled them the only thing is that I am sensing a large hand in all these incursions, an overarching strategy by a vast and cunning intellect, one who's duplicity exceeds my own and does their grasp of the fundamental nature and forces of creation."

Roland Livingston has posed:
"Hell, that sounds bad," Roland says with a deep frown. "If something out there can outsmart a chap such as yourself it's bound to be quite dangerous. What's our recourse? Should I start buying stock in the arms industry?" The last question may have been a bit of a joke. "I'm aware that sometimes things cross over. Magic is one of the means, though science is equally capable. Is there any way to prevent these multiversal excursions from doing us any harm ahead of time or are we fated to react to them?"

Reed Richards has posed:
Reed Richards smiles at the dry British humor of categorizing the incident as 'bad'. "Well, the arms industry is always a solid investment though we may want to concentrate on investments in our future. Prevention and countermeasures are the ways to go. Either prevent them from coming across or find a way to anticipate their incursions and engage our reactions. To outthink them if at all possible." Reed at the last moment opts for a Coke instead of Tea but still gets a monsterburger with all sorts of fixings, "Mmm, so much better than the nutrient supplements."

Roland Livingston has posed:
Roland orders a similarly large burger and drink, even though he's not been sustaining himself on supplements alone. He quickly pays for their meals, tapping a black card onto the sensor in order to do so. "I'd much prefer to fight them on their own turf, less risk of innocents over here being hurt or killed," the young guy says. "I would not be surprised if you had the means to monitor universe hopping to some degree. Is there a way to looks specifically for scouting excursions? If we could capture one of them and trace their passage somehow it might lead us to the next force of invaders bound for our world. Or enable us to set up specific protections from their side of things."

Reed Richards has posed:
Reed Richards nods and purses, "The issue is that if I have those means then I mush assume that they have them as well and that they are monitoring for such incursions and the plans to achieve them. It reminds a bit of a line from Harry Potter, "but Minisiter the other side can use magic too." He manages a wan smile at this. Yes, Sheild has the means to monitor for extradimensional incursions large and small. I've worked with a number of their scientists to develope them. If they can catch anyone that is a grand idea and actually, there might be a sort of lighthouse available."

Roland Livingston has posed:
"A lighthouse, you say? Very interesting. One to guide extradimensional types safely to our shores or to lead them away from our rocky waters?" Roland is quite curious about all this that's happening. "Is there a way for us to make it easier for the invaders to arrive at a certain place in our world using our lighthouse? Somewhere we could have a tank division and a Superman or some such waiting for them?"

Reed Richards has posed:
Reed Richards shrugs as he eats ravenously and downs his soda, "Either are possible, though ideally it would serve as a light on troubled waters indicating a breach before it had arisen and giving us time to react. Directing it could also be a boon."

Roland Livingston has posed:
Roland doesn't even bother to try to keep up with the speed with which Reed eats. He prepares to order the guy another burger, however. "I'm glad we've got some sort of defense in place. Is there a way I could get on the short list of people up for dealing with these threats? I'm quite handy when it comes to battling all manner of nasty creatures. Generally prefer not to kill the sapient ones, however. At least those that don't feed on humans. Much rather them have a chance to amend their ways."

Reed Richards has posed:
Reed Richards sighs blissfully and eats a second burger hungrily but not quite revenously, he nods considering, "yes, given the nature of the threat having some less likely choices in defenders can only help." He produces a titanium card, thin with a four cut out of the metal. It is embosses with his name, a phone number and the title Fantastic

Roland Livingston has posed:
"Fantastic," whether he's reading off the card or commenting on the situation is up in the air. He does trade one metal card for another. This one's got his name, a phone number and an email address on it, "Reach out to me any time, Doctor. I'm sometimes embroiled in situations I can't easily extricate myself from, but if I'm available I'll respond immediately." I mean, who wouldn't take a call from a world famous superhero?