| Red, White and Blue |
| Summary: | Whitney Pratt and Katheryn Kelly meet at a quaint diner in Gotham, Jack Harrison shows up, American ideals are discussed, fights may ensue. |
| Date: | (2014-07-28) |
| Related: | NA |
| NPCs: | Red, White and Blue, American Vets with their own ideas on what America means |
| Scene Runner: | Whitney |
| Social/Plot: | Plot |
| Players: |
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The Bang Bang Cafe has a cute cartoon image of a redhead cowboy girl pointing her fingers like guns. She's got salt and pepper in gunslinger style holsters. Inside the place has a lot of western toys up on the walls. Capguns, broomstick horses, Woody from Toy Story, etc. The staff are tattooed and have sort of a Western-Punk style to them. A note on the window outside says that Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives will be filming there sometime this week.
Whitney is seated at a booth with a tablet on the table next to her cup of coffee as she waits for her food. She's fingering the tablet and catching up on the news, looking like she might not have gone to bed last night, or at best slept in her clothes. Her coffee is heavy with cream and sugar, and after a sip, she adds more. The place is busy, with a steady stream of customers coming in for the trendy take on breakfast favorites, with a small line of folks.
A young redhead steps through the door, joining the line with only a minimal of looking around. She lives in New York, but finds herself often in Gotham during the evening hours, and now, in the hours of the morning. Her soft green eyes raise to the decorations which draw a small smile to her lips, then lower to the tattoos… her brows furrow, she makes to turn around, only to have an easy social retreat blocked by another joining the line behind her.
Coughing, the young redhead lowers her hands to clasp in front of her, idly fingering the frilly hem of her dress while trying to maintain composure being in such a place… Her eyes flick over the patrons then, taking in Whitney with only the slightest pause, she also notices the free seat nearby her.
A cowgirl in short fringed skirt and matching vest with a ton of horror ink stops to refresh Whitney's coffee, then moves along the line of booths to do the same along the way. As she cuts through the line by the door, the door opens and a trio of muscular men step inside. They have the bulging biceps and chiselled anatomy of bodybuilders. The three of them could be brothers. They are all blonde, blue eyed, and they have their nearly white hair buzzed short and tidy, like military members. All wear crisp blue jeans and tank tops that show off their muscles. All three are also tattooes, sort of old fashioned patriotic/military style. They crowd up behind Katheryn, smelling of Old Spice.
From her seat, Whitney spots the uncomfortable looking girl at the door, who looks even more uncomfortable now that she's got those three beefcakes behind her. She visibly ponders, chewing on her lower lip for a moment before she shrugs, "I got an empty spot over here." she offers.
Katheryn feels a shudder through her, her eyes close, the smell of those men and their very presence almost make her too fearful to move, and yet, she does. A glance is given over her shoulder, just a sneak peek, only to find that gaze pausing on Whitney… She pauses yet again, grabs and pays for her tea, then ducks over and into the seat opposite the other teen.
"Thank you, really, thank you!" She murmers, trying not to raise her voice so she's heard by those men, her accent still very much Australian, and quite obvious. "I'm Katheryn, not quite sure how I ended up here, but I think you saved me…" A smile, nervous, is offered.
Whitney offers a friendly smile as the young woman comes over and joins her at her table. After Katheryn introduces herself she reaches across the table to offer a handshake with her right hand, the artificial one, though it is an exceptionall high quality limb, so it could easily be overlooked as being fake. The 'tattoos' are more attention grabbing. "Whitney. You looked less than happy about those three guys crowding up on your bumper."
The three men in question are loud, and one of them made a point of watching Katheryn walk away. His attention is dragged away by one of his companions comment about the waitress's short skirt and her ass, as the cowgirl waitress leans over at a nearby table. Whitney frowns and reaches into her purse, pulling out a tiny R2D2 figure and setting it on the table. The head swivels once it is set down. "Some of the best breakfast in the city." says Whitney. "I love the wagon wheel."
The tiny R2's head swivels and appears to be 'looking' at the three gus in tank tops.
Even as she sits, Katheryn's cheeks go red, her own dress is quite a bit shorter than she wants, and a good deal of her thigh is likely visible to the three men. "Oh no kidding, they're a little obnoxious… but I guess that's their way. Right?" Her eyes slip over to the three even as they look at the waitress, none of them seem to even bother making it a secret.
Kath finds her eyes slipping down to the R2D2 model and almost instantly, the trio are forgotten, "Oh wow, that's so cute! Can I—" Her sentance comes to a sudden stop as she touches Whitney's offered hand, she goes pale, her jaw drops… She lurches out of her chair, looking utterly terrified at what she sees.
Whitney was right about to shake Katheryn's hand when the woman jumps up out of her chair. The sudden reaction makes Whitney jump as well, though she's not sure what is going on. "What?" Then it dawns on her, "Hey, calm down. It's just a prosthetic. It isn't catching." She waves the artificial arm about, "See? I'm not a robot or anything. I just have an artificial arm."
The sudden motion from Katheryn gets the attention of the three guys in the tank tops, who are suddenly a lot more interested in Katheryn than oggling the hard at work waitress. One of them (Who is wearing a red T-Shirt, and will be labelled as Red from now on) gives a cocky grin and swaggers out of line, stepping towards Katheryn, "Everything alright down her sexy? Need some help?"
For long few seconds, the redhead just stares at Whitney, not /just/ at her arm however. Even she doesn't know what she'll do, run, scream, run screaming, throw up… in the end, she sits herself down as quickly as she rose, paying no attention at all to her dress which hikes up her legs slightly. She fails to notice this even as 'Red' speaks.
Katheryn opens her mouth to speak, blinks, then turns her pale face to Red, blinking several more times, "Umm, no, thank you. I'm fine, erm, thanks." She turns away from him, forgetting he and his friends even exist, "Are you /kidding/ me? Are you seriously kidding me? I… I can't even right now. I just /can't/ /even/. It's more than just an arm, isn't it?" It's less a question, more a statement, she stares at the other teen with utterly focused horror and curiosity.
Entering not far behind the tank-top trio is one Jack Harrison. While in shape, he's not nearly bulging as the crew cut crew, nor is he cutting up his shirt in some way to even show how he looks. The same, he is neither slathered in dime-store cologne, nor tattooed up even. Just a regular joe, wearing a Team America shirt, monocle guy with mustache in the derby and all. He was in to get a seat, grab some breakfast, live the american dream. It was all over the wall and guessing by his shirt, he could eat up the memorabillia.
He could just wait to be seated, or go and grab one if the sign says to help himself. But there seems to be some commotion going on and, perhaps having grabbed a few eyes already, it gets Jacks just the same. He turns to look at the ladies sitting (or standing now) at their breakfast and the three clones, only distinguishable by their ink, lifting a brow, curious much like any others who have paused during their meal.
There are a couple whistles from White and Blue as they catch Katheryn's skrt hiking up. "Watch out Johnny!" calls White. Johnny Red grins and leans over the table as Katheryn is suddenly back in her seat. he flexes to show off those big muscles of his, which almost look like he oiled up before heading in for breakfast, "You sure? You totally looked scared there fora second babe. It's alright. I'm a Super Hero. You aint got nothing to fear when Johnny is around."
Whitney sighs and nods to the man hitting on Whitney, "Thanks Johnny. It's nothing. Why don't you go back to your friends. She just freaked out for a second. It happens." Red looks over at Whitney, "Whoa whoa. Are you her lesbian friend? I didn't mean to interrupt your Love Connection. Just making sure the lady is okay. That okay with you Mz. Diesel?"
Its sad when someone is giving his gender a bad name, more sad that so many of his gender do that anyways. Jack Harrison is close to taking a seat, getting on with his breakfast, but its more the last straw even. Rolling his eyes a moment, he instead chooses to go to the table where the commotion seems to be. "Look, I hate to interrupt this, but I think the ladies would like to enjoy their meal without you stinking up the place sir, maybe its time to just go find your group, finish your breakfast, the tour of the milk factory will stay on schedule and you can enjoy the rest of your vacation."
"It's /more/ than your—" Katheryn begins to repeat herself, only blink, rather distractedly turning her attention to Johnny, looking confused, "Umm, wait, what?" Her gaze returns to Whitney, raising her hands like she really /is/ confused by this man, then just as suddenly as her earlier shock, her cheeks go suddenly red. Her gaze drops, she actually squeaks and pulls her dress down her thighs, pulling hard enough to risk stretching the fabric. Jack recieves a glance, but it takes only a second for her to return to Whitney, before she drops her face into her hands, flat on the table.
The two small women at the booth are momentarily forgotten by Johnny Red as Jack intervenes. The big musclehead turns and straightens, looking over Jack with a contemptuous air to him. As that is going on, White and Blue start approaching, doing their best 'looming menacingly'. Johnny sneers at Jack, "Hey Clown. You should probably get the fuck out of the kitchen, cause you can't stand this heat. Me and the sisters here were just talking about how much they'd like to party. Aint none of your business, so make like a tree and get the fuck out." White and Blue find Johnny Red pretty funny, and laugh right on cue. Meanwhile, Whitney opens her purse and extracts a can of mace and a stun gun somewhat discretely and a buff black cowboy at the register calls out, "Hey. We don't want any problems here."
Putting a palm to his face for a moment, more embarassed by this, Jack calls out, "Sorry, not trying to cause trouble." Again to the ladies who were trying to enjoy a meal, "Sorry about this."
Then he looks more at Johnny, not considering or caring about White and Blue. "Ya, clown, hilarious, its the circus, I get it. The gun show and potty mouth isn't earning friends. Besides, its breakfast, I don't think anyone wants to party. Maybe in crazyworld, in your head, that happens." Or their real trouble using their guns for evil and not good. "We can all part company here, or we can just mosey out side and talk about this like gentlemen, what'd'ya say … pard'ner." He'll reach a hand up to pat Johnny Red's shoulder chummy like, half a grin on his face.
Katheryn continues to hide her face in her hands, murmering, "This isn't happening, this isn't happening…" All while trying to mix the idea of being lesbians /and/ sisters all at the same time.
Johnny hears a lot of blah blah blah up until the point Jack suggests stepping outside. "Alright man. Let's step outside. You can get a good taste of Justice, served up by a true American. Then me and my friends can enjoy some breakfast after I wash you off m hands." White totally agrees, nodding along with that bit of a speech. Blue however says, "Man…let's just eat. If you wafflestomp this asshat we are going to miss breakfast for sure. I'm fucking starving. I came here to eat man, not to pound face." Johnny turns to Blue and growls, "You some kind of pacifist man? He wants to show his true communist ways, who am I to stop him? This is America man. He's got a right to be stupid and a right to get his face kicked in." Whitney rolls her eyes, "Oh Jesus. You need to eat something. Your blood sugar must be jacked up or something, there's no way you could be that stupid."
"Quiet Mz. Lesbo. Eat your muffins or something. I got man business to take care of. Then I'll be back, so don't get any ideas about laying carpet or anything while I'm gone." Then it is back to Jack, "Come on man, let's go!"
"You can insult me all you like, but you call me un-American again and I won't go easy on you. I'm doing my best to keep my cool, but any more of your piss pour representation of America and you lack of knowledge of what Justice is, and I'll become your orthodontist," says Jack Harrison. "Insult me all day, slap each other's butts as much as you like, but you've crossed a line. I'm respecting the store's policy to not bring trouble in here. Come with me, or I'll remove you from the premises." He puts a hand into his pocket and start to meander towards the door, as if even taunting at how nonchalant he is moving. He keeps the eye there just to see that they are following.
Katheryn holds her face down ever harder onto the table, making a soft whimpering noise, though whether it's from her own embarressment, or the penis waving, or both, isn't obvious. Short seconds later, she rises up, taking a deep, deep breath as Jack walks away, her head shaking slightly, "My tea is probably cold by now… I didn't even get to my tea. Also, I think I might be sick…" It's the only offer she has to the conversation, looking a touch distressed.
Red and White seem more than happy to head outside into the busy street. Blue looks considerably less excited, "Fuck man…You guys need to fucking get your shit under control." Still, the three are quickly outside, White and Blue stepping out to flank Johnny, who turns to face Jack, slapping a fist into his palm. "We bled for goddamn America man. You can't tell us shit about it. You are some goddamn liberal. Too good to serve."
As the men all start for the door, Whitney, slides the mace and stun gun back into her purse and stands up, putting her flesh hand on Katheryn's shoulder, "You're sick? Why don't you order a new cup of tea on me okay? I think I should make sure that guy doesn't get hurt."
The moment Katheryn's shoulder is touched, the very instant flesh fingers touch the material of her dress, the distressed redhead disappears. Not run, not hide, she simply disappears from sight, the soft whump of air filling a vaccum the only indication she was even there. The effect on Whitney is instantanious, as a /presence/ comes to exist within her mind, her body, everything… and with that presence, comes panic, and with that comes muscles going completly out of control.
"Bledding for America gives you no right to take away justice from others, like trying to force youselves on those women," says Jack, making note of the guys flanking but not seeming to care so much at the moment. "I've served, I continue to serve. I'm the guy up there," he looks up towards the sky, "Keeping the real bad shit from raining on your parade down here. Now, I certainly don't want to be the guy known for beating up some American Vets, but you guys continue to present yourself without any decency or respect for your fellow Americans, I'm not gonna hold back too much." He's just not throwing the first punch yet, but his hand comes out of his pocket.
Blue for one actually listens to Jack, andsteps up to put a hand on the other blonde musclehead's shoulder, "Johnny…chillax man! We are supposed to be low profile. Remember. Don't cause any shi.." Johnny turns and punches his companion in the face, knocking the guy back about fifteen feet, "Shut the fuck up you black bastard! I know what I'm fuckin' doing!" Blue is of course blonde, white (well, very tan, but white) with blue eyes. White jumps into action, jumping forward to grab Johnny, "Whoa! Whoa! Chill!" The two of them start pushing and shoving while Blue gets up from the ground, wiping blood from a smashed nose. "Oh…you are lucky I'm the only one of us with an I.Q. bigger than my fucking dick." To which Johnny yells, "That's cause you aint got a dick Joe! You fucking dickless black puke!"
Inside the Bang Bang, Whitney's eyes go wide as she suddenly loses control of her body and promptly spills to the floor. Her head hits the tiles with a nice crack that drags the attention of the neighboring table and soon the tatted up trio of diners at that table are hovering over her, rolling her onto her back to see if she's hurt. She's got a nice gash on her forehead, and the really evil looking member of the trio starts cooing to her soothing, "Okay. You're going to be okay alright?" and soon has a napkin pressed to her injury, staunching the flow of blood. "What the fuck happened?" asks his friend, who happens to sport some truly awesome Star Wars tattoos, mainly of Boba Fett.
Last straw, not simply insulting him as an American but pulling out the race card. Not fully on racist, but going there pretty quickly on a downward spiral. "Enough," yells Jack himself and moves like the wind - not like flash level the wind, but cheetah level at least. He goes to get inbetween White and Johnny Red, the attempt is to push White down or out of the way, hopefully blue has wisened up a little. At the same time, he means to grab Red by the shirt he choose and lift him off the ground. As he's grabbing, trying to, to lift, "Its over, shit poor choices today pal, I don't imagine it's the first for you though."
Katheryn gasps, staring up those surrounding her as she finds herself lying on the floor. "What… what…" Those eyes go wide, wider than they ever have before… she raises her robotic arm, Whitney's arm, then she looks down at herself, "When… what… who… what the heck is happening! Where have I gone, where am I?!" It's all in Whitney's voice, the young woman struggles, trying to get away from… from wherever she is, in the process she tears the table from the floor by the base, sending it flying through the window, "This isn't happening! I have too many eyes!" Control slips, she panics once more, sending more furniture about in seemingly random directions, then everything seems to go black, and Whitney has control of her augmented self once more.
Jimmy White gets shoved out of the way and Johnny Red gets yanked up off the ground before they can react. They are fast and strong, but they aren't fast enough for Jack. Before Johnny's shirt rips off, he's left to grunt angrily at Jack's words, "Don't mess with me man!" The shirt tears and reveals that it's not just his biceps that are 'shredded'. He's got muscles on top of muscles, and next to no body fat. He's also shaved up and sporting a fresh looking scar right down the middle of his chest, and a couple of similarly fresh scars that look to be bullet holes. The second his booted feet hit the ground he launches himself at Jack's throat, or rather would have, but Blue grabs him from behind before that can happen, putting the seething Johnny in a rear naked choke, dragging his companion backwards as they struggle. Jimmy rushes forward as if to interfere, but stops and waves off Jack, "Sorry man. This is over. Get your breakfast or something. We got this."
Reacting, Jack was cocking his fist, to batter-up on the launched man, until his friends grap him. Then he points at his friends, "Respect out of your service to my Country, I'm trusting that you fellas got it. I better not read about that scruff in the news causing anyone any harm, or I'll involve myself again." Sort of a 'do we have an understanding' understanding. Then he's heading back to for breakfast, completely unaware anything has gone on inside. Even as the door opens (jingles?) his arrival, he looks embarassed, saying "Sorry." To the store, then looking to see what's going on there.
Whitney staggers as she regains control of her body, "Jesus? What the hell?" She looks over at the spot where katheryn had been a moment before, "Where did she go?" Then she refocuses on the people nearby, "Shit. I'm so sorry? Did I hurt anyone?" She did not, luckily, but there are plenty of upset people and some of them are rushing for exits as soon as that window is broken. Blood is streaming down from her forehead, now that the "Dude with the Scary Bear" isn't holding his napkin to it, which certainly doesn't give her a soothing visage. Two of the tatted guys from the next table are standing their ground, "Hey hey whoa whoa!" says Scary Beard, "You need to sit down or something." His friend is all, "Yeah. Sit down. You are effed up." He's not as brave as Scary Beard. Star Wars guy is less brave still, and he ran for the door the second that table was ripped up. He slips out past Jack as the man reenters the Bang Bang, nearly bowling the hero over.
Nearly bowled over, Jack moves to get out of the way, simply moving with the flow rather then what he just did with the Triple J out there (or Red, White, and Blue). He finally notices more disarray inside, now curious if he should of remained in here. Then noticing those gathering around Whitney and the lack of Katheryn, he calls out, "Give her some air - only first responder should crowd in there. Anyone call for an ambulance or anything?" He doens't know how bad the cut is or if anyone else is hurt. He tries to be on hand, but not moving himself in anyone's way. With window broken and stuff torn up though, he does look around to make sure no one else is injured the same too.
Outside, Joe Blue drags Johnny Red backwards until the lead blond passes out, then he tosses Johnny over his shoulder so that he and White can make with a withdrawl. "Damn it man. He blew it! Mr. Washington told us got to keep clear heads. We can't get revved up like that." And off they go.
Inside, Whitney takes a seat at her booth, which no longer has a table. "I don't know what happened. Where did Katheryn go?" She puts a hand to her forehead to try and stop the bleeding, but the blood runs all over her prosthetic until Scary Beard hands her a fresh napkin to use. The staff are trying to calm things down. His friend goes back to his booth, and the waitress brings a fresh cloth napkin over, "I called the cops and they should bring an ambulance too. You okay Miss?" Whitney nods, "Yeah. Yeah. I'm fine. I can pay for the damages…I don't know what happened."
Perhaps enough gossip is had by the remaining folks that Jack peices together that Whitney had something of an episode. By the way she talks, this is certainly not regular. "I'll help with the damages," offers Jack to anyone paying attention, then more to the woman with the gash. "You just worry about yourself. You're head the only thing that hurts?" She has the artificial arm, he doesn't know if its attached or more, being on account of space and space cybernetics, he takes a cautionary road to make sure there isn't other damage they aren't seeing.
After her spill, it's clear the arm has straps attaching it to her chest, which are normally hidden by her clothing. Whitney looks over at Scary Beard, "Did you see where my friend went? I…my head is really foggy right now." Then she turns to Jack, "Hey. You got those guys out of here. You probably saved a lot of property damage. I'm not sure my mace would have been a great choice. Don't worry about the damages. I got insurance."
"Ya, they hit me in a soft spot," responds Jack, not going super patriot in the store after those guys sort of ruined that image for the moment, and maybe for other diners at the moment. "I didn't see your friend go out the front. Does anyone know how long she was out of it?" Referring to her episode that she doesn't remember. Someone probably points out that Katheryn just disappeared, making the ponderance more confusing even.
Scary Beard shakes his head, "I didn't see her leave, but I guess I was paying attention to you and those thugs right up until the lady here fell down and split open her head." That seems to be the majority decision, no one really noticed Katheryn's disappearance.
Whitney grabs at her bags, pulling them onto her lap. "God. I feel so weird. Something really weird happened." With her bags in her lap she puts her limp prosthetic on top of them, apparently it has run out of juice after throwing that table (She turned off all the powered systems actually). To Jack she says, "Thanks. Those guys were jerks. Seriously."
"Definitely not a good way to start the day, no breakfast of champions that's for sure," grins Jack. Listening to dicussion about missing Katheryn just disappearing, though she could easily slip into a crowd how timid she seemeed. Not that Jack noticed then, he was more concerned with the three men acting out of line. "Do you think you need a doctor," about how weird she feels for the moment. Cause they're on their way regardless, just seeing if she actually wants that or not. Considering she did a fair amount of damage in a short span it seems, before the self injury. "Can't let you get up feeling weird." With a 'but' added on no verbally.
"I don't need an EMT." She wobbles up to her feet, "I think my bleeding has stopped." She checks her napkin, which reveals that no, the bleeding hasn't stopped, but it has slowed down. "Freaking scalp wounds." Heaving a sigh, she drags out a business card and hands it over to the guy behind the counter, who is owner/manager. After some profuse apologies she is about to try for the exit when the cops arrive. Then it is time for reports and witnesses and an official NYPD bandage on her forehead. As such things go, it is relatively quick and painless. Poor Jack would probably be right in the thick of things, possibly ending up his witness report about the time she's released from the EMT.
Jack remains carefully obscure with his details. Anything on the freedom brigade and outside is glossed over, and in direct questions he says he knows little. As if avoiding giving out his own personal information to them. Not sure if others wait, but he does while Whitney is looked over in the EMT and released even. If she notices he is there, he grins a little, "Well, doesn't have mickey mouse on it, but could be worse." A chin is lifted to the bandage. "I couldn't just leave," knowing she was being looked at and all, "Honestly not a stalker."
"Honestly not a stalker? Well my day is looking better already." She starts to offer him a hand, but all that manages to do is make her prosthetic swing oddly. So she shifts and offers the real hand, the left, "Whitney. Can I offer you a breakfast? Or I suppose it would be Lunch or Brunch by this time. Sort of to reward you for stepping up and being the hero?"
Even as it swings oddly, Jack starts to move his hand as if to help make the connection and shake, good thing she shifts to the other and its not overly awkward. "Whitney, sure. And its Jack," he says, but shakes his head, "No need to treat even, call it civic duty. I'm sort of bound to it." Even if a personal indisposition to helping where he can. "Brunch would be good though, I had my heart set on an omlette and some ham. Hope your meal wasn't ruined by all that." The guys, the episode, the head gash.
"Yeah, I never got my wagon wheel. I don't know if I feel brave enough to go back in there. You know of another place nearby Jack?" Of course, she's busily running computer searches in her head, but she doesn't need to tell him about that. Why she skims the results, "Duty bound? You still a soldier? you said all that patriotism stuff those guys were spouting really pissed you off before right?"
A slight hint of a shrugs, "Maybe, we can walk more towards the city, see what comes up, bound to be other joints around here. Not as cool, granted, but more breakfast places - just no wagon wheel." Turning he lifts a hand, ladies first, if she likes, or simply side by side is just as easy. When they start off, if they do, "Something like that. Unofficial official like. I'm a fan of the Cap you could say, followed sort of in his footsteps. Its just, freedom, hotdogs, baseball, picnics, a fair shake, a white picket fence - that's my America, not signing up to shoot other people, bragging about service, or imposing personal ideaologies (sp) on others. Its what we make it ya, the voice of the people. I didn't go overboard did I?" Now, or before even, he can go there with his own thoughts on the subject.
Whitney starts off down the street, alreaddy having the new meal location locked in. Around the block her car starts up and drives off to get a new parking spot that is being scouted by a drone overhead, which only recently went onto duty, replacing the previous one due to battery usage. While direction that traffic she nods along to Jack, "Well, who isn't a fan of Cap? Sometimes hard to think of all that stuff here in Gotham though. If we go a few more blocks this way, it would be /really/ hard." She shrugs her shoulders then says, "So…you are an unofficial official soldier like Cap? Are you some kind of super hero? I guess you'd have a mask if you were. So…like a secret agent?"
A chuckles escapes Jack, "Ya, like a secret agent, just not all the spy stuff." His grin turns those thoughts over, maybe in fairness, and what she had to go through, he is more open on that front at least. "I tried to do the Cap thing, super hero. It didn't pan out so well at first, but lately, its like kicked into high gear. I'm not one to go around talking about it, most people wouldn't believe it." He favors her a glance, she seems to have some gizmos that aren't everyday at least. "I sort of do the Cap thing, but in like space."
Doobie doobie doo. Nice guy, interesting conversation…then bammo! He says he's a superhero. Captain America in Space? Say what??? Whitney nearly falls down at that. "What? Did you just tell me that you are not only a superhero, but that you are a superhero in space? Like… for real? Like, you have not only been in space, but you go there on a regular basis, and fight crime? Wait, not just like, any old boring crime, but space crime?" She stares, her big eyes looking even bigger, "Seriously? You aren't trying to pull one over on me because I've experienced a head trauma?"
Laughing and shaking his head, "No, if I was trying to pull one over, I'd do the whole amnesia thing and us being married - but I think Sandra Bullock aready did that one, so not as funny." Rubbing at his hair a little, though, he nods. "ya, not pulling your leg. Actually just came back not to long ago. I don't have laser guns or a space ship to prove it to you. Not quite super hero, more like defender, of the Galaxy." He could say more, but lets her digest that.
Pause/fade