Owner	Pose
Arthur Curry	This late at night along the docks the water is quiet with only the occasional wake washing over the river. Just enough of a roil to cause the moored boats all along the NYPD's dock to jostle almost serenely in the water. Sometimes there's the distant clang of a buoy, perhaps a cry of a gull, and the distant noise of the city's streets. But here on the edge of the water... there's at least some peace to be had.     Which is why Officer Howard Lincoln doesn't mind this duty. Sure it's slow going and the hours are late, but beats a desk job and you meet a ton of interesting people though most of the hours of the night you're stuck in the small paddock that passes for an office alongside the stairs that lead down to the docks.     Like this guy. "Arty, the heck are you doing back here this time of night?"     The aforementioned Arty tromp tromp tromps down the steps, sparing a wave over toward the police officer, "Needs must when the devil drives and all that, Howie. Crazy stuff goin' on."     Now having to stick his head out of that small office window, Officer Lincoln calls out after the man. "Yeah, do I wanna know?"     "You do not, Howard. You do not."     And as easy as that, Arthur's walking down the wooden slats of the docks and moving toward the extended inlets where not one... but two damaged and recovered smugglers subs are resting and moored securely.
Bobbi Morse	To make things more interesting, Howard continues to lean out of his shack window to call back at Arthur one last time, "Guess that's why the blonde is down there already eh?" He offers a grin then disappears inside again. An odd thing to say, perhaps. Maybe he was being esoteric about Arthur's hair. Or maybe someone is already down at the docks ahead of him. If that should be the case, who would it be and why would they be down there at all? Worthy questions to ask, and to seek out the answers to. WHen Arthur nears the moorings of the captured submarines there is, in fact, a blonde woman standing there. Her attire matches the weather of late fall, wrapped in a warm overcoat that hides all but the military styled boots she wears. Custom tactical styled glasses with yellow tinted lenses cover her eyes. The breeze occasionally tousles at her blonde hair but it is left down, spilling about her shoulders and upper back.
Arthur Curry	Succinctly, Arthur turns and calls over his shoulder in Officer Lincoln's direction, "What?"     But there's no time for the answer as he's already far enough down the pier and out of earshot that the police officer just gives a wave of one hand and lets the Justice Leaguer find out for himself. Which is what the man does.     Should she glance over toward him she'll see him. Easily heard with his brown boots thumping on the wooden slats as he walks, not exactly trying to be stealthy. She'll likely see that silhouette first, limned by the overhead light and casting the man in shadow. Taller than most, broad of shoulder. Then he appears in the halo of light of one of the sky lamps that hang curved over the pier and she'll see him.     Doesn't look like a hero. He's got those grim features, that wild mane of hair, that beard that's got an elastic in it granting it some semblance of order. And he doesn't exactly wear a costume or uniform. Just torn blue jeans, a loose black t-shirt, and a grey hoodie that hangs over him but for most wouldn't protect against the weather. Though for now, it doesn't seem to bother him.     "Who are you?" He asks. No preamble, little politeness. When their eyes meet there's suspicion there, incredulity in those pale pale blue eyes as he looks her up and down then meets her gaze. "Fed?"
Bobbi Morse	Bobbi Morse heard his approach. She heard the raised voices calling back and forth even if the conversation was beyond range to understand. She continues to gaze out over the submarines and lets him close the distance. When he finally nears conversational distance she turns to look at him, seemingly unconcerned about being by herself on a dark dock with a man she hasn't even met yet. Her hands are tucked deep into her overcoat pockets. Her gaze sweeps over him quickly, but most details she picks up are displayed to the inside of her glasses. As he talks she listens and shrugs a slender shoulder. "Fed? Not exactly." She counteres before giving anything up, "What about you? Fed? Hipster looking for a unique apartment on the scenic water front?"
Arthur Curry	The quickest way to earn something other than a domineering glower from Arthur is to stand your ground and give it right back to him. Which is what she gets when she counters with the hipster crack and it causes a half-smirk to slip onto his features even as he exhales sharply. Just a slight breath that if it was given more strength would be a laugh.     "Yeah, looking for something beachfront, but you know, global warming and all that." A jab for a jab, sortie met and held. Arthur, however, keeps that smirk and then looks to the side where the less damaged of the two subs floats there on its tether and secured by some heavy metal clamps that are locked in place. It's a slick black vessel, perhaps thirty feet long and sleekly designed. No conning tower, barely a mark on it, save for where the airlock door was torn asunder. Other than that... looks great.     "Alright, what's the deal?" His attention returns fully to her as he shifts his weight to his other boot and then folds his arms over his broad chest. "I just got back from Metropolis after dealing with some crazy sorcerer and his demon flunkies. My patience ain't what it should be."     There, that's not horribly combative is it?
Bobbi Morse	A smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth as he jabs back. She looks back to the subs thoughtfully for a moment. Turning slowly to face him, she reaches an unhurried left hand out of her pocket to hold up an ID case. "I'm not a Fed. But word travels quickly in certain circles, Mr. Curry." The badge held up confirms what she says, "Commander Morse, SHIELD Field Operations. I'm here because I have questions. But I can tell you upfront that you won't be required to pay income taxes on your trophies here.." her ton light and joking.
Arthur Curry	"If I did it'd be the first time," Though alright, that might not be entirely true. He does have property... and he's had a job before. For a time.     Those pale eyes flit to the ID, then back to her, then back to the ID. Unlike many of the people that she has likely met in her travels he does seem to actually be taking a gander and noting small aspects of it, yet giving no voice to whatever thoughts that may engender. Instead he mirrors her posture to a degree, hands sliding into the pockets of his jeans and at least translating that body language into something that isn't quite as overtly confrontational.     "Alright, Commander." He says, looking sidelong toward the sub, but then he takes two steps to the side and settles with his back against the railing that lines the walkway, facing her still but looking more relaxed as he leans that.     "Ask your questions."
Bobbi Morse	Bobbi Morse leaves the ID up long enough to show she's not trying to bluff. Putting it way, she nods to him, as she looks back to the vessels. "Reports that they were captured did make it through various circles but the finer details unsurprisingly did not. Cartel? Mafia? Who's business did you put a dent into when you brought these in?" She glances to him with interest.
Arthur Curry	"Don't know," Arthur says with that calm jovial tone. Since hey, it's not his job to figure out the bits and pieces, that's somebody else. He punches things, amongst other aspects here or there. Though when he sees the look on her face that the answer might draw forth he sort of half-smirks and then elaborates, "They spoke Afrikaans, their gear is pretty advanced for simple smugglers, and some of the loot they were trying to offload... was marginal alien technology. Didn't seem like anything much, but I'm not exactly a big brain."     That said he turns his head as if looking off in the distance, nodding in the direction of the distant city of Metropolis. "Took the bits to Starr Labs, they're looking into it but the loot seems harmless. So..." He spreads one hand, "Now you're caught up. Kinda."
Bobbi Morse	Bobbi Morse tilts her head as she listens to the details. "No, it seems unlikely to be the average smuggling operation if there was alien tech involved. Unless they found it somewhere and were here to try and sell it." She shrugs, "That will get passed along." If SHIELD wants to act further they will. "And I thank you for the short-short version Mr. Curry. The reason I'm actually here is that the vessels themselves are of interest to me. I do understand that currently they are under impound by the NYPD. What is the League's long term intentions or designs on them? Scrap?"
Arthur Curry	For a moment she can likely see the flicker of something behind his eyes, some hint of an edge but it's a thought unvoiced as he lifts his chin slightly. Then he seems to let it pass whatever it was and instead answers her directly, "Honestly I'm still trying to wrangle what's going down. I've been putting the feelers out, running a few patrols where I think the search might be fruitful. Not sure what game these guys are playing but it still pisses me off they're doing it on my turf."     Which, apparently, is the ocean.     Giving a nod then toward the submarine itself he murmurs, "The crew had good gear, armored suits, some decent weaponry. Smaller more compact weapons, and some underwater countermeasures. Also they had an emergency drone system that was for security, mebbe repairs too since their weapons seemed like some sort of mix of welding gear and electrical discharge."     A deep breath is taken, then he tilts his head to the side until his neck gives a short cartilaginous crackle before he looks back toward her, "Right now I have them here because I figure there might be some point where I need to reference back to them when I find out more."
Bobbi Morse	Bobbi Morse nods, "May I get a copy of any reports or fine details from the League? As a professional courtesy" she clarifies. "I would like to, either present a brief of this case myself to SHIELD, or if you are willing, have you present one. If there is alien tech involved, even if it is only fringe tech. It would be worth having a multilateral investigation. You've got resources we don't and the reverse. The more light we shine on this the more likely to find the answers you're after." And the more likely she might get first right of refusal on those subs when the appropriate time comes.
Arthur Curry	"I am..." Arthur starts, brow furrowing as he looks to the side. Then he looks back, "Incredibly terrible at the whole paperwork thing." He lifts his arms from his sides and folds them across his chest. "Like I haven't even gotten through my emails for the last few months."     For an instant he bites the inside of his cheek and murmurs, "Might have better luck ringing up the Hall of Justice and talking to someone who looks at their memos... and such."     That said he looks back at her, "Or Starr labs if you need the tech report. I'm more a hands on sort."     Then he lifts his chin, "But if it's just a matter of permission or whatever," He motions with one hand, "Knock yerselves out." And voila, she now has her right of first access.
Bobbi Morse	Bobbi Morse arches her brow. "I see. I'll do that." Reach out to the League and even Starr Labs." She then looks to the vessels, "I appreciate the permission. But I actually had intentions on one - or both - of the subs themselves. As in taking ownership. But it is possible that a loaner situation might work as well." She looks back to Arthur, "But it sounds like this is something I'll have to talk to someone else to work out as well." She shrugs, "For now I got most of what I was looking for, and a bit more perhaps." She offers a nod, "Thank you for your time Mr. Curry. Have a good night?"
Arthur Curry	A tilt of his head is given as he follows Bobbi's gaze, then looks back to her with a quirk of his eyebrow. "If you need them, take them. If things go as I figure I might be coming back with at least one more." That said he pushes off and away from the railing, hands in his pockets once again.     He looks at the subs anew, as if trying to see them through the lens of what Bobbi might want from them. Then he shakes his head and looks back at her, "Yeah, you too Commander Morse."     A beat.     "You know you're not so bad for a government fascist." As he says that, /that/ is when he finally smiles.
Bobbi Morse	Bobbi Morse turns back, to look at him, "Fascist?" She lets out a choked laugh of disbelief. "You -really- don't grasp the concepts of governace, do you?" And with a head shake of wonder or disgust at his parting shot, she begins to walk back toward the exit. Things are finished here for the night.