| Warning |
| Summary: | Mirage, with Moon Maiden as backup brings a warning to Wolverine |
| Date: | May 5, 2014 |
| Related: | None |
| NPCs: | None |
| Scene Runner: | {$runner} |
| Social/Plot: | Social |
| Players: |
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Location: Hell's Kitchen
On paper it was a simple mission, locate the newest enforcer for the Costa family and shake him down. Mirage didn't think it was going to be that easy, not after reading the reports about the crime family. SHIELD knew about the new superhero team forming and wanted to play nice and suggested that since crime families are everybody’s problem maybe to include one of its members in the mission. She was only acquainted with the one so she gave Moon Maiden a call. Now she sits looking like any other normal citizen waiting for the bus for the woman's arrival.
At Mirage's request, Laurel the Moon Maiden doesn't arrive in armor. Instead, she is wearing civilian clothing. A pair of fashionable jeans. A nice blouse, white in color and sleeveless. Some silver bangles on her left wrist. "Hello." She offers as she steps off the bus. Since flying in would be a tip off. "Nice to see you again."
Mirage stands at Laurel's approach, "Yes it is." she offers her hand out in greeting "To bad it’s for business." she looks up and down the street, surveying the scene and taking in who is going where and doing what. Ever vigilante and what not "Thanks for coming to give an assist.
"I'm glad to do it." Laurel says. "And the League wants to cooperate with the authorities whenever possible. I'll follow your lead on this one, if you don't mind. I trust you have the training and know-how here. I'm just extra muscle." She winks.
Meanwhile in one of the slightly better pubs in Hell's Kitchen, the target of the mission reclines in one of the booths in the back. It's a vice he indulges, one of the few times he lets himself just go out and be about amongst people. But precautions have to be taken. His back is to the wall. There's one bottle of beer half empty and that's been nursed for the last half hour. The seat has a good sightline to the door. And, for what it's worth, Logan is sitting partially on the edge of the outer seat. Just in case.
But then again all of those precautions aren't worth much when one develops a pattern of movement. It's worse when that pattern of movement is noted by some of the informants on S.H.I.E.L.D's paylist. Sure the Costa crime family is a pretty tightly knit group, but that particular government agency has a decent way of getting its tendrils into what it can.
Mirage nods "Exactly. I'd prefer this to go all nice and quiet, but I've learned that usually is to much to ask for." she gestures to one of the bars that line the street, "He's parked himself in there. You go in first and take seat at the bar. I'll follow shortly. If he runs, clothesline him..or whatver. I trust your judgment.
"Got it." Laurel tugs at one of her silver curls, takes a deep breath and then walks down the street and into the bar. Which is probably where it will all go to shit. Because poor Mirage picked the one member of the Justice League that Logan probably will recognize on sight (and scent). Still, Laurel does as instructed. She sits down at the bar and motions to the bartender to order a beer.
Inside that bar it's quiet. This time of day it's mostly that mass of people that want to get their drink on, that don't entirely want to socialize, that would much rather just enjoy a little bit of the ole booze. So when Laurel enters, there's a reaction of course… since she is rather beautiful even when dressed down. A few men glance up, there's perhaps a double take or two, but most of the people around either have their own problems or know when someone is out of their league as it were.
So the music continues dull in the background, a mix of popular tunes on a weirdly advanced video/audio player with a large HD screen. What little conversation there is within continues quietly. The bartender glances up and moves in Laurel's direction to give her his attention. No greeting, just cocked eyebrows as if expecting her to be the first to talk.
As for James Hudson, he does turn his head when he catches sight of the new arrival. From afar she doesn't fit the place. His eyes narrow, nostrils flaring a bit. Familiarity. A ghost of memory tinged with motorcycle grease and violence in his recollection. For now he remains in his place.
There was probably know way that Mirage could have known that, that kind of information is probably above her paygrade. After a few minutes, she will make her way into the bar as well. She probably fits in a bit better, with her more midwest down home clothing, but as a native american she still does stick out a bit. A passing glance is given to the bar's occupants before she goes go the bar and drops some money on it "Two beers." she tells the bartender.
Laurel accepts her beer and pays for it with a five. She opens it up and proves, yes, the Moon Maiden is capable of drinking as she takes a swallow of beer. For the moment, she just sits there. Nursing her beer. Watching the television. Being a bar that means there's a game on.
Scritching at his stubbly chin with one hand, James takes a pull on his beer and then casually pushes it to the side. He gives the place a once-over, letting those blue eyes of his wander from point to point. A deep breath is taken as he considers the situation. This definitely has earmarks of a set up in a way. Two irregulars, off hours, curious movement, all give hints of warning signals. But then… perhaps the fact that James had met Moon Maiden before actually serves as a benefit instead of a handicap in this particular moment. His read of her, of her intentions and her manner, they all bespoke someone of a different moral compass than he expects in the spy community.
So for now, he waits. It may be a mistake to let them approach and get him bracketed. But nothing ventured…
Taking the two beers the bartender slides across the table, Mirage once more scans the bar, treating her partner for the day, Laurel, like any other occupant. After a moment she casually heads over to where her target has parked himself. It helps her to think of this as just another training session. She sets one of the beers in front of Logan and then proceeds to sit down across from him without asking or waiting for invitation. A pull of her own beer is taken as she stares boldly at the man "I'm Danielle Moonstar," she starts by introducing herself "feel free to try to run," she makes a nodding motion to the door, "I promise though you won't make it to the door.
The nice thing about televisions? If you look at them at the right angle they make okay mirrors. Which is why Laurel's so intent on the game. It lets her keep an eye on Dani and Logan. A man she recognizes, of course. One she hopes will be brought over to the good side. One she had thought already was.
Cocking an eyebrow curiously at her as she joins him, "Hippie parents? Or is that just yer cover?" James maintains a veneer of being unperturbed, though someone with enhanced senses or the like might be able to detect a subtle increase in his pulse, a faint tension to his body language.
At the offer of the other beer he eyes it, then casually lifts his own bottle as if to signify that his isn't empty quite yet. But he's not being exactly unneighborly, not yet at least. He waits a moment, then he leans forwards. "So what's yer play?"
Mirage shows neither insult or amusement at the question, "Cheyenne." is her answer. She isn't lying, pulse regular, no unusual sweating, or any of the other tell-tale signs of dishonesty, its her real name "Your recent," there is a beat while she determines the best wordage "altercations and employment has brought you to the attention of SHIELD." she takes another drink of her beer "I'm just here to tell you the rules of the game you have found yourself in.
She's a good poker player, not really showing too much of her hand at the moment and using descriptors that imply than verify. There's a small wave of his hand to one side as if he were brushing her words away. "I don't really work for anyone." He says this, probably as a justification or rationalization, whatever the realities.
He shifts to the side in his seat and then finishes his beer with a long swig. The bottle clinks upon the tabletop then he pushes it aside to take up the one that Mirage had offered him before. Perhaps it's an act of bravery in some way to accept her offer of a beer. Or perhaps it's just to show her he's not too put out by the situations. Whatever it is he then adds, "I don't want any part of yer game, and I couldn't give a god damn about yer rules."
"I'm sure the Costa family would be touched by the amount of loyalty that your denial implies." Mirage's tone is a touch cynical. The fact that he accepts the beer is no surprise. She got it straight from the bartender and it was in sight the whole time from bar to table. No chance for her to doctor it "My game, your game, SHIELD's game, who's game it is doesn't matter. You are already playing it whether you want to or not. Especially since both your current employers and former employers and knee deep in it already.
Another dismissive gesture, one hand waving to the side. "You think you can drop a name or two and suddenly I'm going to be all, 'Uh oh, she knows everything. Better come clean.' Yeah well you can forget it." James seems a bit annoyed then as he takes another pull of the beer. "And if yer with them who you claim to be with, I'd figure you'd be glad at me doin' what I'm doin'."
Mirage gives a shake of her head "I never expect anything to go that easy." she leans back against the booth "And when it does it raises other red flags." the half-empty bottle is rolled between her hands for a moment "And I'd rather not have to deal with red flags "Personally I could care less what you are doing, as long as what you are doing aren't stepping on my employers toes. Which you are coming dangerously close to doing.
"Yeah, well have Charlie send another one of his angels by when I do." James swirls the bottle a little and sets it down again. He folds his arms over his chest and looks across the way at her, smiling a bit for once as he tilts his head. "So is that it or you gonna stick around?" His smile curves edged as he adds, "I warn ya, if yer gonna try and get me drunk and take advantage of me, I ain't a cheap date."
"Oh it won't be an angel that 'Charlie' sends if you enforce yourself on the wrong people." Mirage seems somewhat amused at the decades old reference though. Her head tilts at him, one of her eyes flashing red for the breifest of moments, or maybe it was just a reflection of one of the TV's. He did not just flirt with her, she's really going to have to work on her technique, "I doubt you would need to be drunk for that to happen." its almost deadpan.
"Ehn, it'd probably help." James looks to the side idly and in some ways his words are on auto-pilot as he considers the situation. If she had a window into them she'd probably be surprised at the different ways he's considering how he could perhaps depart this bar through her, around her, avoiding her friend, or say through a wall or window. He looks back, "Yer not really my type. I find federal spooks are usually pretty lousy in bed."
He's being rude, crass, but if she has an angle on him she might be able to get a sense that he's playing to a role. Perhaps he's indulging in how he perceives she expects him to be. It's a tactic she's perhaps seen in various training sessions but James… he seems to do it well. "So are we done here?"
An eyebrow arches upward, she could probably ask exactly how many federal spooks he has had in his bed to come to this conclusion, but that's one of those questions her superiors would frown on, and since they will be reviewing this encounter she refrains "Done enough for now." suggesting that there will probably be more later, she gestures to the door "You're free to go.
"Have a nice day," James says as he gains his feet. He starts towards the door and strolls on out, sparing a small smile for Laurel as he passes on by.
