9275/After the Heist

After the Heist
Date of Scene:	25 December 2021
Location:	Lobby - Four Freedoms Plaza
Synopsis:	Franklin explains the subway incident to Roy and heals his wound.
Cast of Characters:	Franklin Richards, Roy Harper

---

Franklin Richards has posed:
    The address that the phantom boy uploaded to Roy's head would be immediately recognizable to any New Yorker and perhaps Roy has a hunch as well. If he doesn't know initially, it becomes clearer, the closer he gets to his destination. It'd all make sense, then. The strange, sci-fi technology, the boy with otherworldly powers, the alien threats. This is the Four Freedoms Plaza. Home of the Fantastic Four.
    Franklin's pacing in the lobby, blue eyes focused on the ground in thought. They're not glowing anymore, which is a good sign, but he's definitely the same person from the subway. He's wearing the same t-shirt and red shorts, and no shoes. There are others in the lobby including a receptionist who casts worried glances to firstborn every so often. The family's known for their eccentricities, though, so she doesn't ask any questions.

Roy Harper has posed:
"What the Reed Richards is going on here?" Roy murmurs to himself as he gets closer to the plaza. "Roy, dude, turn around right now and go home. Just fucking go home and take a shower and go to bed and forget you ever got into this situation." But nobody else ever listens to Roy's advice, so he doesn't listen to it either, and thus he enters the plaza. He's wearing his civvies and has a backpack slung over one shoulder. Oh, and he's limping quite a bit from a possibly infected interdimensional giant insect wound. So he has that going for him.

Franklin Richards has posed:
    A little automated message belts out a greeting to Roy as he enters the lobby and directs him to where he can find food and drinks, the gift shop, and the archives of all the enemies the Fantastic Four has ever faced as well as a brief blurb about their origins. "...due to exposure to cosmic rays, Dr. Reed Richards and his team gained extraordinary powers..."
    The receptionist spots the injured teenager and glances at the pacing young Richards. "Franklin, I think your visitor has arrived." She gives him a pointed look. "Please get him out of my lobby."
    Franklin's eyes lift, and he approaches. "Thanks, Jen. Again, please don't tell my parents about this," Blue eyes drop, then lift again. "Thanks for coming. I'm Franklin. Did you bring the, um, the device?" He looks a little nervous, but it's hard to tell if that's just him or the circumstances. He's polite, at least, offering a hand along with the introduction.

Roy Harper has posed:
The redhead comes to a stop in front of the slightly taller Franklin. He looks him over very carefully and one might easily get the impression that Roy is figuring out ways to fight him if it should come to that. Occupational hazard. Also, giant insects! Nonetheless, he grips Franklin's hand in a firm handshake. "Roy," is all he says. When Franklin inquires about the device, Roy gives the backback he has slung over one shoulder a small shake to indicate it's in there.

Franklin Richards has posed:
    Franklin doesn't move like a fighter. In terms of physical physique, he's only slightly above average. If things came to blows, any observer would put their money on Roy, but if the subway incident proved anything, things are not what they seem with this one. "Uh, nice to meet you," Slightly dismayed by the short response, he once again falls back on the rules of social etiquette. "You fight well. Let's fix up that leg."
    He gestures for Roy to follow him into an elevator. "I suppose you're wanting an explanation." His ears flush. Oh boy.

Roy Harper has posed:
Roy doesn't seem to react at all to the compliment. He does fight well. He knows that. Only a very small percentage of people in the world fight at Roy's level. But he's also no fool. He's in the territory of the Fantastic Four, and that is something well above his pay grade. So he quietly limps after Franklin and gets into the elevator. That's when he does speak. There's no anger in his tone. He speaks in a calm and measured manner. "I would like an explanation, yes. A bystander got shot. People could have been killed by those insect things. And transportation for a hundred blocks was delayed for hours." He looks at Franklin with no anger or judgement in his eyes. Just measured calm, like the emotionless state of a predatory cat.

Then he asks a very surprising question. "Are you okay?"

Franklin Richards has posed:
    "Okay, so," Franklin presses the button for the hundredth floor. It'll be a long elevator ride. Then he presses the close button about a dozen times in rapid succession. Once they close, he leans back and meets Roy's gaze. "The woman with the gun. Her name is Jessica. I met her at tech expo, and well, we exchanged numbers. She asked for a tour of the labs, you know? I...I didn't know she'd take anything, swear."
    The look in his eyes is raw and open. Guilt, shame, and a little bit of fear about being in an enclosed space with someone who easily took at three aliens. He blinks. "I-I'm fine, yes. Like I said, I wasn't even there," He sighs. He was duped. Again. "I'm guessing she's a rival of my dad's. I'll find her. Make this right."

Roy Harper has posed:
Roy shakes his head and a slight hint of a grin aaaaaaaaaalmost hits his face. It's a pre-grin at best. "So you were thinkin' with your dick and got taken." He squats down -- wincing slightly because he forgot his leg really hurt -- and sets the backpack down. He unzips it and tugs the metal case out. Beneath the case, his Arsenal uniform and a high tech, folded bow can be seen. He hands Franklin the case and slings the backpack over his shoulder again as he stands back up.

Franklin Richards has posed:
    A blush spreads across Franklin's face like wildfire, and he rubs the back of his neck. "I mean, I didn't expect anything out of it! She just asked for a little look around. Look, I don't want to talk about it," He takes the case with an appreciative smile. "I'm sorry about your leg. You're a hero, right? I owe you big time." He looks a little thrilled by the idea. The heroes he interacts with the most are his family, and they do a lot to keep him sheltered. The vigilante with no powers? He's pretty much never runs into them, though Valeria did date that Todd boy for a while.
    "I don't even know what this thing does, or why she wanted it," Franklin looks down at the briefcase, then back at Arsenal. "What do you call yourself? When you're in the mask, I mean.

Roy Harper has posed:
Roy shakes his head. "You don't owe me. That's not how it works. I do what I do because I can, because to not do it is suicide." Now here comes the real Roy. A smile crosses his features, bringing a sparkle to his emerald eyes.

The question about his code name brings a snorting laugh out of him. "Bad-tempered shithead?" he answers jokingly. Then a shrug. He looks down at the elevator floor. "Arsenal, I guess. It's a stupid name but Batman was already taken so I'm stuck with it now." He looks back up at Franklin for a moment, then back down at the elevator floor.

Franklin Richards has posed:
    "If you think Arsenal's bad, I won't tell you mine," Franklin grins, tucking the briefcase underneath his arm. It's a long elevator ride. Maybe a bit awkward, too. Towards the end of it, he reveals, "Powerhouse. I'm Powerhouse."
    The elevator doors open to, well, probably the most impressive scientific laboratory on Earth. It's massive and dominated by huge steel-reinforced windows. "Here we are. H.E.R.B.I.E, can you set up one of the medical tables?"
    <<Yes, of course, Master Richards,>> A small floating robot intones, before white tables extend from the wall. <<Am I to assume the prototype has been recovered? I have yet to remove it from the archive, but I really think->>
    "I got it, Herb. Not right now," Franklin gestures to the table before leaving to find the healing gel. "Take a seat." Leaving people unattended in the lab is what got him into this situation in the first place. H.E.R.B.I.E keeps a close eye on Roy, the digital face on his miniature screen perpetually smiling.

Roy Harper has posed:
"I dunno. Powerhouse is kinda badass...I mean it's..." Then a good-natured laugh escapes Roy's lips. "Okay yeah, it's bad too. Maybe we both need a publicist or something."

He limps out of the elevator and into the lab. "What the actual fuck?" he says, peering around. "Are we in the future? How does this place even exist? You have to jiggle the handle to get the toilet to stop flushing back at Outsiders HQ."

Roy takes a seat as instructed while future boi goes to get future stuff or whatever. He looks up at H.E.R.B.I.E. with a small, humorless smile, then peers down at his boots. Once he realizes that the thing is still there he peers back up again. "You're a creepy little...creepy little thing, aren't ya?"

Franklin Richards has posed:
    H.E.R.B.I.E., or a drone that the AI is currently controlling, simply tilts his head.
    "I have a publicist!" Franklin calls out. When he returns, he's no longer holding the briefcase but a simple spray can. It's nothing fancy, unmarked. "I'll need access to the injury," He gestures to where the wound is located, flushing slightly. He coughs. The can gets a few shakes, and Franklin sprays it into the air, politely looking away while Roy either undresses or rolls up his pant leg. It smells minty.

Roy Harper has posed:
Roy unties his boot and slips off his sock. Okay, can we just stop here for a moment to be real? He was out on patrol and then he fought giant insects and then he ducked into a safehouse to quick change into civvies. His foot smells like ass right now. That's just...that's just science. He then rolls his pant leg up to his knee. Blood is soaking through the hasty bandage he wrapped around the injury, and even just a mere hour later the smell of infection fills the air. That interdimensional bug did some shit to him.

"Ah ah ah ah," he says as he gingerly unwinds the bandage from the injury, which is perhaps more grievous-looking than maybe Franklin was expecting. He continued fighting with that? Then walked to FF HQ on it? Our boy Roy must have a pretty high pain tolerance.

Franklin Richards has posed:
    "That isn't pretty," Franklin pinches his nose, as the smell of infection and dirty feet wafts through the air, and turns his head. "Oh god, that's disgusting. Sorry. It is, though. Luckily, this stuff is a few centuries more advanced than what the doctors have." He shakes the can a few more times and covers the wound in its mist. It numbs, then the process of healing accelerates as the flesh self-replicates.
    Franklin sits on the other side of the table, watching the mist close Roy's wounds. He's always a bit awed at his father's inventions. Plus, he needs to make sure it's working. "Dad's so up his ass about magic, he doesn't realize that he literally does it everyday."

Roy Harper has posed:
It's like having a thorn in your foot for long enough that you stop realizing exactly how much it hurts, which is a lot. When Franklin sprays the futuristic medical goo on his wound, the look of relief on Roy's face is so palpable that it practically makes a sound. "Oh shit, Franklin, that feels amazing. Thank you so much." He glances up at the other teen with a grateful smile.

"Wait, what?" Roy says. Now that he's out of pain, he starts putting two and two together. "Dad? Are you...are you Mr. Fantastic's son?"

Franklin Richards has posed:
    Once he's sure the mist is doing its job, Franklin leans back and nods. "Yeah..." His head tilts, an amused grin spreading across his face. "Did you think I just broke into his lab? Franklin Richards, heir to..." He looks around the lab with its wonders and gadgets. "All of this."

Roy Harper has posed:
"I don't know! Maybe your dad was like a worker here or something!" Roy suddenly flops forward at the waist and buries his face in his hands. He talks, but it's muffled because of his hands. "Oh that's great. I am so fucked. I was in a subway fighting interdimensional insects and was in possession of stolen secret Fantastic Four tech. And Mr. Fantastic's son was in his pajamas. They're not even going to find my body. I'm just going to be gone and nobody will ever know what happened."

Franklin Richards has posed:
    "Hey, relax," Franklin laughs lightly. "If anyone comes after you, they come after the family. That's the case with any innocent...though I get the feeling you're not all that innocent." As amusing as Roy's fear is, it's useful and not entirely unwarranted. "Just make sure you don't tell anyone. Once I find out who was behind that caper, you'll be safe. That reminds me...H.E.R.B.I.E, run a facial recognition on Jessica. I want to know everything about her including all known associates."
    "If you want, you can stay here in the meantime," Franklin offers. "Honestly, my dad probably won't notice you, and my mom will...well, she'd probably disapprove of the weapons if I'm being honest. She's just like that, though." He runs a hand through his dark hair. "What's wrong with my pajamas?"

Roy Harper has posed:
Roy sits up a little bit. One might easily get the impression that while he does have some concerns about the situation, he is leaning into it a little bit and probably isn't genuinely afraid for his life. "Your mom doesn't like weapons?" Roy says with an actual, genuine belly laugh. "Well she's gonna fuckin' love me then. That's all I got are weapons. If I didn't have weapons, your space case insect summoner thingy would be stolen right now."

He tips his head. "Nothing was wrong with your pajamas. They were cute. I meet a hot guy in cute pajamas and I end up fighting space bugs. That's just my luck...wait a minute. Did you just use the word 'caper' in a sentence," Roy asks, eyes glittering playfully.

Franklin Richards has posed:
    Franklin's head tilts, and he regards Roy with furrowed brows. Hot guy? Oh. OH! His face reddens again, and he looks at his hand. "Thanks. You kinda smell like shit right now, though. There's a shower if you want it." He points behind the ginger. "And yes, I did. Bite me."

Roy Harper has posed:
Roy snorts as he stands up. In response to the bite me comment Roy he says, "I would love to, but I gotta get back to Outsiders HQ. I'm probably already on the news. Red Robin's gonna want a report and to see that I'm okay." He tugs his cell phone out of his pocket and shows it to H.E.R.B.I.E. "There, Creepy Floating Ferguson here must now know my number. Shoot me a text if you wanna hang out." He gives Franklin a wink. "We can make your parents /really/ hate me."