United Heroes MUSH - User contributions [en]

6079/An Evening Outside the Lab

2018-12-31T05:11:01Z

Claire T: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2018/12/30 |Location=Trisk - Sciences Lounge |Synopsis=Jemma is enjoying a late night bite when Skye stops in for a chat. |Cast of Characters=1344,..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2018/12/30
|Location=Trisk - Sciences Lounge
|Synopsis=Jemma is enjoying a late night bite when Skye stops in for a chat.
|Cast of Characters=1344, 1191
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1344|Jemma Simmons (1344)}} has posed:''' These are by no means the latest hours that Jemma has been on duty in the sciences section, but she's happy for a bit of a sit-down all the same. Try as she might, her circadian rhythms don't generally correspond to her work schedule, although she hesitates to make a point of saying as much, for fear that some of the less discerning in the biochemistry directorate might consider such to be a challenge. Some processes, Jemma deeply believes, are best left minimally altered. She hums to herself as she peruses the selection of snacks and --she hesitates to use the word at this hour-- breakfast foods, and she settles upon a couple packets of cinnamon and sugar oatmeal and an apple, which she sets to cubing as the oatmeal cooks in the microwave. It's the simple things, really. When the microwave dings and she allows the specified waiting time for the concoction to cool to a temperature she would prefer, Jemma takes her small repast to the nearest seat at a dining table and begins to set to. 

:'''{{#var:1191|Skye Johnson (1191)}} has posed:''' Skye has been... well, everything has been overwhelming of late to say the least, but she's trying to get a grip. And, for the most part, she's getting there. There are still some few issues, though - like holy crap what the hell was that she did in the woods, and just how do you get control of that (not to mention *how* did she do that?). She's wandered the halls of the Trisk, and while this isn't her preferred break room to hide out in, the sciences lounge is also one where nobody would think to look for her. That she stumbles across Jemma? A surprise, but not an unwelcome one. Skye's lips purse around a wry smirk. "You don't do coffee, do you? I could go for some." Despite the late hour. 

:'''{{#var:1344|Jemma Simmons (1344)}} has posed:''' Jemma blinks and coughs slightly as she wraps the now discarded sections of apple core in a paper napkin for proper disposal. "You're absolutely free to consume whatever beverages you like, of course," she says, "but at this time of night, caffeine is generally contraindicated." She cocks her head toward a beverage dispenser near the kitchen counter. "There are lighter things on tap," she notes. She puffs lightly on another spoonful of oatmeal and apple pieces while she appraises Skye. "Is there some reason you're making rounds through the sciences section this evening?" she finally asks. "You don't need any help at the moment, do you?" 

:'''{{#var:1191|Skye Johnson (1191)}} has posed:''' Skye's nose crinkles even as she grins. "I'm not so worried about the caffeine. Night owl." Which was true - most hackers were when it came down to it. This accompanied by a shrug. "Besides, I don't drink the stuff so much as let it go cold while I do other things." Which was also true. She wanders over to the dispenser and selects a coffee, despite the hour. "Just thinking," the young woman answers as to why she's haunting these hallways. "Generally I stick to the main break room, but everyone knows to look for me there. I figured if I went somewhere else I could think in peace. Not a biggee. Nothing earth shattering. Just trying to put my head back on straight. We're supposed to head back to the cabin." Skye brings her now dispensed coffee over and sits with Jemma, and once she puts her cup down, holds up her arms for the other to see. "So far so good," Skye remarks of the gloves she's wearing. "Of course I won't know until I actually try to do anything if they work the way you said they will." 

:'''{{#var:1344|Jemma Simmons (1344)}} has posed:''' Jemma glances at the other woman's forearms and cocks her head. "Well, yes, there is that. I would suggest some testing at a slightly lower force first, though," she says, "At least while the local forest stewards might be watching. Carbon sinks are always much easier to uproot than to plant or to restore, at any rate." She gets up and makes a short eeny-meeny-miney-mo at the juice dispenser before settling on a pulpy OJ and bringing back a small glass for herself that she's watered down by a third. "And if you experience any bruising or signs of bone injury, I trust you'll halt testing immediately until the effects can be thoroughly documented." She sips her juice. "Wouldn't do much good to have you breaking your arms recreationally." 

:'''{{#var:1191|Skye Johnson (1191)}} has posed:''' At first Skye just blinks. And then she laughs. "I wasn't planning on breaking my arms recreationally, thank-you. And.. trust me, blasting down the forest wasn't my first idea either." She sighs, and folds her arms on the table, leaning there some. "I'm not 100% sure how I did that - what I did back there, I mean. I could feel it build up, and then things just kinda of went kablooie. It really kind of felt like if I didn't let it go it was going to make me fly apart." Which they'd already discussed. Part of the reason for the gloves to begin with. "I think.. I think it might be easier now, having seen a bit of what happens? And yeah, maybe not so many trees sacrificed next time." That easy wryness is back. 

:'''{{#var:1344|Jemma Simmons (1344)}} has posed:''' "Hmmm," Jemma offers contemplatively as she tips up her oatmeal bowl and scrapes the congealing bits together to finish off her serving. "That's somewhat reassuring, if the effect can be moderated easily," she says as she takes her last spoonful. "The 'flying apart' matter, a bit less so." "The main issue, of course, is how readily it might be controlled, and how robust that control is," she says as she drops the spoon back into the dish and crosses her arms. "At least, I hope it is, because the possibility of the gloves having an upper limit that your... talents might breach is... possibly quite unfortunate." It's the closest Jemma gets to bragging about her engineering work, but it's hardly without objective cause. 

:'''{{#var:1191|Skye Johnson (1191)}} has posed:''' Skye makes a face. Not quite disgusted. Not quite 'oh mom'. But something akin. "I know. I think it was I didn't know what I was doing, or what to do. Logan said he'd help." He wasn't the only one. "And they can be adjusted, right? The gloves?" She bups her hands around her coffee cup. "I know what it feels like now. I didn't before. That's a start, right?" 

:'''{{#var:1344|Jemma Simmons (1344)}} has posed:''' "Adjusted, of course, but only to a point," Jemma replies with a quiet sigh. "There's also the not insignificant question of what kinds of exertions they're being adjusted for. It's always vastly preferable to measure several times and to cut only once, but with powers of that... magnitude," she drops the word while canting a look at Skye, "one can never be certain." She stands up and gathers everything to be disposed of into the bowl before sipping the last of her juice. "Knowing is, as I've been told, half the battle. Whether that's the extent you need or have to know, that's the question," she says as she steps a few feet away to eliminate the evidence of her evening snack. 

:'''{{#var:1191|Skye Johnson (1191)}} has posed:''' The young woman looks terribly sober, Skye following Jemma's words and nodding. "It's scaring the shit out of me, too. I don't know what it is I am, or what it is I can do. So far it seems like what I'm good at is breaking things." Like Hydra bases. Medical bay. Forests. She's yet to sip her coffee. 

:'''{{#var:1344|Jemma Simmons (1344)}} has posed:''' "Well... yes," Jemma says with a small shrug. "But hopefully with the proper equipment and protocols, we can find alternate uses for your skills," she says briskly, in a voice that may as well have been narrating a 'Keep Calm and...' poster. Stiff upper lip, and all that, of course. "We haven't observed all the possible combinations just yet," she continues, though her voice trails off slightly. "In any case, dwelling on such things in the dead of night is not likely to influence any outcomes in a positive manner," she says as she pushes in her chair and starts for the door. "During times of such concern, I've found it's best to put one's energy toward more productive ends." 

:'''{{#var:1191|Skye Johnson (1191)}} has posed:''' Skye smirks. "The dead of night is when I dwell on things. Hello, have you met me?" There's a small chuckle from Skye, but it's short lived. "I've already been to the shooting range. And I've practiced the flight sims May gave me. I'm running out of distractions. However, sounds like I'm keeping you up." 

:'''{{#var:1344|Jemma Simmons (1344)}} has posed:''' "Well, it is getting to be that time of the evening for me," the scientist replies. "I have a few instruments to shut down and put to bed for the evening." She smiles at the hacker and eyes the rapidly cooling coffee. "I'd suggest -- medically, of course -- that you not go ahead with that caffeine and that you don't stay up too late ruminating." She gives a small wave and heads back to the lab. 
}}

5522/Tournament/Black Sky: A Yelling, Island Edition

2018-10-13T06:32:05Z

Claire T: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2018/10/09 |Location=Kairos, Greece |Synopsis=Claire and Matt have a therapeutic discussion about Matt's place in Elektra's plans. |Cast of Charact..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2018/10/09
|Location=Kairos, Greece
|Synopsis=Claire and Matt have a therapeutic discussion about Matt's place in Elektra's plans.
|Cast of Characters=89, 230
|Tinyplot=Tournament
|Tinyplot2=Black Sky
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:89|Matt Murdock (89)}} has posed:''' The beach was quiet, that's why Matt sought it out, gave him a chance to think, okay, fine, brood, but the point was, it was a place he could be by himself and try and get his thoughts together. It wasn't working particularly well, he'd been there an hour and all he'd managed to accomplish was get sand in his costume. He shifts his seat then sighing stands. It was pointless. More time wasn't going to change a thing. Thinking of checking on Claire, he starts back towards the villa. 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' Claire, for her part, is parked under the villa's extended eaves, sitting on a low wall with her back against a pillar. She watches the waves dash on some rocks and sighs, crossing her arms and looking intently at the folds of her sleeve for some minutes. "Trust these two nut jobs to ruin an island trip," she mutters under her breath. "Damn it," she hisses as she stretches her legs out and off the wall's surface with some force. "All this friggin' kabuki ninja bullshit..." 

:'''{{#var:89|Matt Murdock (89)}} has posed:''' Matt doesn't have to search for a heartbeat to find Claire, the muttering shows him the way. He approaches slowly, not really looking forward to this exchange but not wanting to draw it out either. There was too much to dread already in his life, he didn't need to add to it. "Guessing the fun in the sun isn't doing it for you?" he observes dryly by way of saying hello. The dry wit comes with no smile though and no feeling. "If it helps it'll all be over soon." The sentence is literally loaded to bursting with double meaning. 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' "All, huh?" Claire replies, not giving Matt much time to clarify or to head to higher and dryer ground. "Clearly the life expectancy around here sucks." She peers at Matt with narrow eyes. "You're not...?" 

:'''{{#var:89|Matt Murdock (89)}} has posed:''' "Let's not joke about life expectancy," Matt says sharply. "Not now." Then he parses what she was alluding to but didn't finish. "What? No. I'm not-" he says before he gives the question some thought. "What's going to happen, it will destroy me, I don't know what I'll do, but not that, I'm still Catholic, still a Murdock, we don't give up." He takes a piece of wall next to Claire and holds it up with his back, "I just meant, that Elektra, and what my being with her has done to our lives, that will be over. Figured you'd be happy about that much. Hasn't that been your point, she was trouble?" he says head turning her way, before adding bitterly, 'Well, trouble solved." 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' Claire snorts with little humor. "Trouble never solved, and you know better," she shoots back, turning to look at Matt before turning back to watch the waves again. "You brood like you breathe," she says. "This just means all the dramatic bullshit you two had going all this time going for your super amazing ninja destinies is going to be cooped up in one of you instead of two. "Got enough room for that, Murdock?" she asks, returning Matt's sharpness. "You don't end things cleanly, even when you don't get a choice either way. This? This is a mess." 

:'''{{#var:89|Matt Murdock (89)}} has posed:''' The problem wasn't solved, not at all, he'd said what he'd said out of bitterness, but he knew that while the Hand might be hurt by what would happen, he would bear scars too, perhaps ones that'd never fully heal, which in turn would make their own problems. He lets out a disgusted grunt slamming his fist flat against the wall. "Then what am I supposed to about it?" he demands. "Everything I do seems to just make things worse. More than that, what's going to happen hasn't even happened yet, and I've got the next group of ninjas lining up to take their place," he says. "So, yeah, you're right, trouble never solved, but I'm in it now, and whether I have room to carry it all doesn't matter, I still have to fight, because who the hell else is going to do it?" 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' "Name me one thing," Claire replies slowly and deliberately, "Just one, that you've gotten yourself into, that you haven't managed to make worse somehow, some way, by asking who else was going to do it -- ninja bullshit especially," she drops in with a dry voice. "She's made her choices and gone a hell of a long way to make sure they stick, and now you're sitting here driving yourself crazy trying to figure out how you're going to fight the whole damn thing. Admit it." Claire turns around and dangles her feet down the wall, her back to the incoming sea breeze. "And where the hell do you get off thinking you're going to swoop in and save some day you don't even know needs saving, just so you can give your hero complex a bumper crop of warm fuzzies?" She braces her arms on either side of herself while she leans forward in emphasis. 

:'''{{#var:89|Matt Murdock (89)}} has posed:''' "There's nothing to admit," Matt says, avoiding the original question, knowing he didn't have an answer. "That's the plan. She does what she does and we do what we can to build on that, bring them down," he says. The plan had more to it than that, but he wasn't going to explain it here. "And the day needs saving, Claire, like I said, and I am one of the people who is going to do it, not because it serves some need," he says with disgust, "But because it needs to be done, these people," the Hand. "They don't get to get away with this. Just like the Foot doesn't get Hell's Kitchen," he says voice raising. "What am I supposed to do? Sit back and just let them win?" 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' "That is one hell of a plan, right there," Claire drawls, rolling her eyes. "I don't think the plan's changed too much since I've seen you two in cahoots for ninja games," she says. "The plan never changes. And whatever difference it's supposed to make gets swallowed up by more and more fighting and... oh, wait, let me count it up... blood. You're a hell of a donor, Murdock. "And what the hell is it you're expecting them to win here?" she asks, shrugging her shoulders. "If Elektra's set up her dominoes the way she wants, what do you expect running the sacrifice play to do for everyone back home? You trying for a longer obituary?" 

:'''{{#var:89|Matt Murdock (89)}} has posed:''' Matt's jaw sets beneath the mask. "The plan is that we remove a weapon from the Hand's arsenal. A big one, then follow up with some other moves I can't get into right now," the vigilante grits out. It was a calous way to put it, removing a weapon from the Hand's arsenal, but it was all he could manage here. "Claire, the fight, the blood, all of it, it's almost over." At least for now. "And I am not going to do anything to get in the way of what Elektra's doing," he admits quietly, crossing himself. "God help me I want to but there's no other way, no other way that doesn't bring the Hand down on all of us until they get what they want from her. So, rather than fight that fight, and let all of you get hurt on her behalf she's taking herself off the board, for us. I know some appreciation of that fact is too much to ask, but you should be able to see that this at least pulls us from the line of fire, lets you, me, Foggy and Karen go back to something like a normal life again." It made him sick to think of the cost of that life, he had no clue how he was supposed to live it. "So, if you see her before it happens, say thanks, /she'll/ be the reaon we won't be looking over our shoulders waiting for the next batch of ninja to come out of the woodwork." 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' Claire coughs. "In case it's escaped your notice, knowing someone in your line of work means that there's no "out of the line of fire" for known relations like me," she says. "Not sure what I'd be thanking her for, because you know what? Fucking dipshit ninja mobs don't just check their dance cards, see that Elektra's not in the neighborhood, and move on. They don't stop. Crime doesn't stop. Violence..." she takes a deep breath, "does not stop. So you're not looking over your shoulder on the ride home, and that's terrific, but that doesn't mean your ninja buddies haven't left you a fruit basket on your kitchen counter while you were away. "This shit doesn't end, Matt. Whatever moves you can't get into until I have to reassemble your ass, it's all going to tumble back into more ninjas and fighting and bullshit when you get to New York. There's no question." 

:'''{{#var:89|Matt Murdock (89)}} has posed:''' Matt shakes his head, "The Hand was only after us to use as leverage against her, once what happens happens, they won't need that leverage, it'll be done Claire. This thing with the Hand, it'll be done." The key words were 'this thing', he knew he'd be going after them through Genus and through Stick, but he hoped that would put enough distance between his world and theirs to buy a little peace. "And what do you want me to do Claire? Hang up the mask? Go back to a normal life and just ignore all the pain I hear every night?" he shakes his head. "I can't, just like you couldn't let some guy in a dumpster bleed out when you knew what sort of trouble he'd bring to your life." 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' "Oh, I didn't know," Claire says, her voice flat, her eyes half-lidded. "I promisee you I didn't know. That dumpster is the just the Giving Tree of New York, I will tell you," she goes on. "You want to get back to your classical acrobatics and routine death defying once you get home? Sure, absolutely. There'll be a gurney with a dedication plate on the front of it, just for you. Have at it. I have to stuff your insides back in because you decided to get extra heroic on your trip to Greece? So help me, you'll eternally prefer the ninjas." 

:'''{{#var:89|Matt Murdock (89)}} has posed:''' Matt tilts his head considering Claire's words. They were fair enough, but still managed to hurt. "You could always walk away, you know?" he offers. "Daredevil stops visiting your clinic, the 'giving' stops." He knew she'd just said she was fine with their arrangement, but given all that happened, he thought it was worth saying. "And I'm not going to do anything overly heroic here, far from it, I am just going to sit on my ass and let someone I care about-" he can't finish the sentence. "You know what I am here to do. I promised Elektra I wasn't going to get involved, and I'm not, I'm just here to say goodbye." 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' "I know you're here to get upset," Claire says, nodding at Matt. "That's a given. For all you're not getting involved, you're horrible about letting anything happen. Ask me how I know," she says, her voice dry. "And you're swearing that this goodbye of yours is going to be peaceful, but for fuck's sake, Matt. I know better. And so do you. So how do you plan on keeping yourself from getting into the action? You know it's coming. You know you're bad at staying away from it. *I* know you're bad at staying away from it. So exactly how do you plan on walking away?" 

:'''{{#var:89|Matt Murdock (89)}} has posed:''' Matt blinks behind the lenses of his suit. Claire had a point. When everything was theoretical he could tell himself that he'd stay away and keep his word. In practice... He wanted to believe he could honour Elektra's sacrifice by keeping his word, but, Claire was right, the precedent didn't support that. "I don't know how it is going to happen," he admits. "Honestly, I've been afraid to ask, but I'll give you that you're probably not wrong, given half the chance, part of me is going to want to do something, to stop this." His head drops, "I can't say I really have a plan. I know the smart play is to walk away now, I've got no fights left, no reason to stay, but at the same time, I can't leave Elektra alone to face this. I owe her that." 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' "And there we go," Claire says, clapping her hands softly and looking heavenward. "Every time you say you can't do something? Given enough time and concern, you manage to get around your can'ts. Matt, this isn't some philosophical exercise. You get yourself into Elektra's spotlight while she's doing her best to get gone? You're toast. "I can't make it any plainer than that," she says. "You go face this with her, and you're not going to do anything but make a name for yourself for how you died. Intervening here isn't heroic. You don't get to tell me you're not going to do it, but you can't leave Elektra alone to her fate. You're planning a last-second rescue as we speak. "It's not going to help. You have to understand that." 

:'''{{#var:89|Matt Murdock (89)}} has posed:''' "I am hoping for a last second reprieve, I don't have a plan to seek one Claire," Matt explains quietly, one hand against the wall and leaning. "What do you want from me? A promise I won't interfere, I won't die with her, I've already given that to Elektra. I am not looking to die here, and Elektra, she's planned this out, odds are whatever she's got figured out has taken all of this-" he gestures encompassing himself and all of his desire to be heroic. "Into account." He sags visibly, scanning his surroundings for any sign of interlopers or the tell tale buzz of electronics. Finding none, he pulls the cowl off the costume, blinking and rubbing at his eyes, not because of any change in his vision but in the sudden freedom from the costume. Once he's done he turns those eyes towards Claire, unfocused though they were they were expressive, saying with their tiredness, the way Matt's emotions pulled at the edges of them. "I need you to know I do understand," he says his voice pitched low. "Nothing I do is going to help. Hell part of me is proud of Elektra for doing what she's doing, for finding a way to rob the Hand of everything they were trying to do with her, but a part of me is always going to want to fight it, to find some way to change the outcome. You're worried that part will get me killed," he lets out a sigh. "I am too, so help me Claire, help me do the right thing here and save Elektra's sacrifice." 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' Claire pinches the bridge of her nose between her fingers and takes a few deep breaths while the other hand rubs against the knee of her jeans. She stops and laces her fingers together with a sigh, giving Matt a long look before she speaks. "Saint Matthew," she says at some length and with a pause, "Sacrifices... don't get saved, else they mean nothing. She's made her choice. You need to step back." The tone isn't harsh, and for the moment, she's done with any fulminating rants. "You won't be harmed if you're out of the line of fire. You just need to forgive yourself for putting yourself there... willingly, for once." She cocks her head. "That doesn't splice too well with a martyrdom complex." 

:'''{{#var:89|Matt Murdock (89)}} has posed:''' "You're misunderstanding me, Claire," Matt explains lifting his hand from the wall. "Or maybe I mispoke, either way, I want to let her do this, I know it's the right thing to do, that's what I mean by saving her sacrifice. I don't want to fuck it up." Maybe she did understand what he'd meant. "That part you're right about, I am not sure I can forgive myself for letting this happen. Even knowing it's the right thing, I still-" he can't quite make himself say it. "I know it makes me a hypocrite, because if given the chance to stop the Hand like she's doin, I'd take it in a heartbeat, but, it feels wrong for me to let someone else do it." He tilts his head, "So you may be right about the martyr complex too, just not sure there's a damn thing I can do about it." 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' "Yeah, that's the thing about martyr complexes. They're usually a lot bigger than anyone who has one," she notes. "Look, unless you plan on being on 24/7 call swinging up and down the street in your armor, you're going to have to let someone else do some defending when given the opportunity. That's physics. That's math. That's reality. And you do know that. Claire stands up and crosses her arms as she regards Matt. "The damn thing you can do is willfully, purposely do nothing. You don't get to pick "actively easy" on this one. Back off, Matt." 

:'''{{#var:89|Matt Murdock (89)}} has posed:''' Another time and Matt might have made a joke about not knowing for sure unless he tried. Tonight though he only nods slightly. "I know," he says. "And I try, but-" he begins and then stops himself. "I'll try and lean on the others more. If they're free." That last caveat was something of a massive loophole with Luke either out of town or busy in Harlem, Jess having cases to deal with, Danny having Rand Enterprises... Though Matt does add, "There are a couple of others willing to help too. An old teacher of mine and a new guy with a story crazier than Danny's." Claire's advice is taken in and this time he does offer a wry joke. "Might be easier just to drug me," he says and almost means it. "But yeah, I hear you, stay out of it." 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' "That's the long and short of it," Claire replies with a shrug. "Sometimes that's the best thing we can do. No one much cares whether we like it or not." She gestures toward the pathway away from the water. "For now, rest. Everything will become clearer, but for now, let the pieces keep moving the way Elektra has them set to move. It's not yours to change." 

:'''{{#var:89|Matt Murdock (89)}} has posed:''' Matt pulls his cowl back on, grimacing slightly as it rubs against his skin. Melvin worked miracles but the suit wasn't meant to be worn for days. "Yeah? But how do we pick the times to let it go and the times to fight?" he asks, before she urges him towards the path. "A topic for another time, this time I know which way to go with it." He'd let it be, deal with the pain later. It was the right thing to do, even if he'd hate himself for it. "Thank you, Claire. I know you really didn't want to come here, but I am glad you did." 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' "You're quite welcome," Claire replies simply after a few moments' length. "Come on. I'm formally prescribing rest and food, Murdock. Enough. Put away the suit for a little while and let everything be." She huffs a small laugh. "Consult with Mother Mary if you need to. Pull away bit by bit, however you're comfortable, but Matt... Let it be. Seriously. "Come on." 

:'''{{#var:89|Matt Murdock (89)}} has posed:''' "Sure," Matt says about the rest and food, but to the suit. "The suit stays, can't have people seeing who I am." While on the island, he even slept with it on. He nods to the rest, offering a smile in place of a laugh. "Fine," he says with patience, before nodding more seriously. "And I'll leave it be." Then at Claire's urging he joins her on the trail back to the villa. 
}}

4102/A yelling

2018-03-19T08:24:08Z

Claire T: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2018/03/19 |Location=Claire's Apartment |Synopsis=Matt's earned this one. |Cast of Characters=89, 230 |pretty=yes }} {{Poses |Poses=:'''{{#var:89|M..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2018/03/19
|Location=Claire's Apartment
|Synopsis=Matt's earned this one.
|Cast of Characters=89, 230
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:89|Matt Murdock (89)}} has posed:''' Matt was of the 'rip off the bandaid' school of dealing with problems. So, rather than hiding and trying to avoid a thing, he comes right at it. Call it Catholicism or being the son of the boxer, or just not knowing better. It's how he dealt with things. So,following the confusing interlude with Elektra at Josie's, Matt made his way to Claire's after a visit with Father Lantom, it was Sunday after all, and Matt had a lot to confess, though as he knocks on Claire's door, the duffle bag of clothes under one arm, he suspects his confessing this Sunday is far from over. 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' Claire pushes herself off the couch with a huff, throwing the remote aside after she shuts off the television. It's not that she's entirely against having company -- and with her vigilante involvement, she has no business saying she is -- but it does mean that company tends to appear at all kinds of odd times. At least if it's early, maybe the cleanup and patches needs are going to be mild, or so she would hope. When she opens the door, she pauses for a few moments before slowly turning to allow entry. "Seriously?" is all she asks, crossing her arms. 

:'''{{#var:89|Matt Murdock (89)}} has posed:''' Matt could hear the TV while he waited for the door, that huff too, and her steps coming to the door. So, he's not entirely surprised when he gets that 'seriously' thrown his way. He smiles, disarmingly, his hand tensing on the top of his cane. "Hey, Claire," he greets. "Is this a bad time?" he asks, fully aware of the irony of that. "Not a business visit," he says, meaning he wasn't likely to bleed to death if she slammed the door in his face. "Just wanted to bring back the clothes and I got the feeling there were some things left unsaid last night," which may be the understatement of the year, but he manages to deliver it without irony. 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' "Left... unsaid?" Claire asks, keeping her voice low as she pulls the door open wider and makes an irritated gesture for Matt to enter. She sticks her head out of the doorway to look around for other visitors or observers, whether they're her neighbors or they're here to trail Matt. "Glad you're not here on a business call, but holy shit, Murdock," she says. "Things left unsaid?!" Despite Matt's reassurance, she still looks around the floor and around Matt for dripping blood, and not finding any, she gestures toward the couch. Devil has some 'splainin' to do... 

:'''{{#var:89|Matt Murdock (89)}} has posed:''' Matt had been careful coming here, taking a circuitous route from Holy Cross Church to Claire's, but even he takes a moment to check things out as he enters her apartment, listening for pursuit or any other signs of notice. "I wasn't followed," he assures her and your neighbours haven't put down their forks or stopped watching TV," he says before dropping the bag of post patch up clothes by the wall with his cane on the way to the couch. There, he addresses the question at hand, "And fair enough, that might have been a bit of an understatement, but you're mad, and you have questions, so, go ahead." 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' Claire lets out a deep breath and looks at Matt with growing annoyance... or perhaps annoyance that's just getting to bubble over from where it was already coming to a boil. "Let's start with the basics," she says as she picks up the remote from where she'd tossed it earlier, putting it on the end table to make space for her to sit. "Who the hell is she, and what the hell does she know about what you do?" Deep breaths, in through the nose, out through the mouth. "Isn't all of this supposed to be under wraps?" Like the stitches I put in, she doesn't say. 

:'''{{#var:89|Matt Murdock (89)}} has posed:''' Matt takes a breath of his own, while Claire gets settled and before he answers, "She's Elektra Natchios, before he was assassinated her father used to be Greece's ambassador to the United States," he explains, before tilting his head as he considers the rest. "She also can fight like I can, but hasn't always been as careful about how she uses it. We figured all that out about each other in college, so I guess when she saw footage of the Daredevil, she recognized my fighting, because when she came back to New York, she knew who I was." He turns his head towards Claire, "I didn't just tell her, hey, guess what, I'm the Daredevil, she already knew I could do all this." 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' Claire blinks at the new information. "What exactly do you mean, 'hasn't always been as careful about how she uses it?'" she asks slowly. She lifts up her hands to emphasize her point. "Do you mean to tell me she's coming back here for crazy ninja fight club or something?" Oh, boy. "Please don't tell me there's a crazy ninja fight club or something that you're getting yourself into, because I swear, Murdock, if that's why I'm sewing you up..." 

:'''{{#var:89|Matt Murdock (89)}} has posed:''' Matt goes silent for a moment, his thoughts turned inward, before he lets out another breath, "Meaning, she's used them for hire, and for fun," he says, the admission hurt, it made the struggle between his view of the world and Elektra's real now that someone else knew. "It's what broke us up," he explains. "And no, no crazy ninja fight clubs, she came back because she was trying to change, but I didn't see it and I turned her away," he says before he frowns, saying, "Claire, I am not like her, I wouldn't put you through what I have for fun, what I do it' isn't for me, you know that right?" 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' "I know you're not doing all of this for fun or for hire," Claire admits. No one who was fighting on a lark would manage to get into all the various scrapes and messes Matthew Murdock seemed to manage on a regular basis, for which Claire was cautiously grateful, if occasionally chagrined and sleep-deprived. "What I'm not getting is how you'd end up with someone who would. And you're telling me that you're broken up, but jeez, Matt..." she says with a whistle as she shakes her head slowly. "That display last night? That's not what broken up looks like. "She's not playing like she's broken up, no matter what either one of you says." Her eyes narrow. "And after that, she's sending you business? And you're *okay* with that?" 

:'''{{#var:89|Matt Murdock (89)}} has posed:''' Matt seems mollified to know that Claire doesn't consider him a reckless loon. Or at least not one who does what he does for fun. "Thank you,' he says. The rest, gets those infamous two words, "It's complicated," because no duh, right? He takes off his shades, folds them up and slip in his shirt pocket under his jacket, leaving his sightless eyes exposed. "Right now, you're one of six people who know what I can do, that I'm not as blind as I seem. From when this-" he gestures at his eyes "-happened, until Elektra, there was only one and he walked out of my life when I was still a kid. So, when she found out, and didn't tell anyone, didn't run away from it, or treat me like a freak, I can't even describe what that meant, what it still means," he says before digging deeper. "And I'd say that's what let me overlook what she was, but that'd be a lie, I saw it and to be honest I didn't care. To be Matt Murdock, blind man every day since I was nine, it takes so much control, and with her, I didn't have to do that, I could let go. It's why I love her," he says, looking straight ahead. "And yeah, there's a reason she's like that, more than just because she's Elektra, we had a moment, the other night, where we let ourselves believe maybe things could work out, we were wrong. So, I guess last night was her tryin to adjust to that." "As for the business," Matt says. "Like I said, she's trying to change, do some good, I need to help her and this was how I could do it." 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' Claire rolls her eyes on "it's complicated," although she listens quietly to Matt's explanation. It's not something she'd considered to this point, and she silently chides herself that she could forget the effects of an experience like Matt's being known to so very few. She takes a few deep breaths, and her heart rate slows. This is clearly not something she's going to be able to divert or to change, concerned though she may become. Some things, though, she could still make a comment on. "Matt, joking aside, you've got a massive blind spot for people trying to change." Her voice loses the hint of dry humor. "You had told me that there were still some few strings attached to what's apparently money for the firm... and it's coming through her." Another deep breath. "Are you prepared for what those strings could do to you if that changing goes pear-shaped?" 

:'''{{#var:89|Matt Murdock (89)}} has posed:''' Matt hears the slowing of her heartbeat and while he usually refrains from commenting on these sorts of things, , he says "Thank you," knowing it means she understands. "I know," he says quietly. "With Elektra especially, but I owe it to her Claire, before when she came to the city, I turned her away when she reached out and she got herself into bigger trouble because of it, I have to do something to atone for that. To make it right." The other part gets a nod, "The strings are mostly emotional ones at this point, the documents are pretty clean and she took care to keep herself apart from what's going on. Besides, she's had Foggy on board since before I agreed, so it's not like he doesn't know what's happening." Which was true to a point, he knew what was happening, but he wasn't ever clear on how much Elektra had told Foggy about who she was. He certainly didn't hear much about her from Matt. That consideration shows on his face as a slight frown. 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' Claire nods at all of this, then massages the bridge of her nose while she mulls over the picture that's been formed. She hums to herself and slowly shakes her head. "Matt, you can atone forever, but the making right? The changing? That's up to her, and don't forget that," she says, frowning slightly. "Sometimes I think Catholic guilt is enough to do you in," she notes. "And I'd be willing to bet I'm not the first person to tell you that," she tells him as she shoots a dry look. She stands up and picks up the bag of clothes to secret away in safe hiding so the contents hopefully won't be needed in just a few nights' time. "I know you love uphill climbs, but some of her fights need to stay hers." 

:'''{{#var:89|Matt Murdock (89)}} has posed:''' Matt offers a dry smile of his own, "I may have heard that a time or two," he says about his guilt before deadpanning. "But if it kills me then that's on me, my fault." Hey, at least he's a little self-aware. He shakes his head. "I know it's her place to make the changes, it's just, if someone reaches out a hand I feel I have to take it, or what happens to them after, part of that is on me." He casts a small smile over his shoulder to her, "Given how we met, I know you feel the same way, or I'd still be in that dumpster." Or worse. "And they, will, despite what happened last night, we made it clear to each other, what happened in the past is the past. We're barely working together." Claire's likely heard the same sort of thing from drunks in the ER about the booze. I can quit any time I want! 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' Claire comes back out of her room and listens to Matt's remarks as she wanders over to her refrigerator to grab a few bottles of water before she returns to the couch. Her grin is rueful as he tries to make his case. "I'm going to go out on a limb here and suggest that you haven't had to either fish Elektra out of a dumpster or stitch grievous bodily injuries closed for her. Would that be correct?" she asks as she hands over a bottle. "And I keep telling you this, if you don't think you're working together... Matt, your super senses are failing you, big time." Your redirect, Counselor. 

:'''{{#var:89|Matt Murdock (89)}} has posed:''' Matt sighs, "No," he says as he takes the bottle and cracks it open. "I haven't. But she did come to me when she was alone, needing allies and trying to do some good and I just left her in that dumpster," he says, ". Now, I am there again, and this time I am making a different choice, the right one, I'm helping her. I'm too late to fix everything, maybe too late to save her, but I have to try Claire. I have to help her do some good." He takes a grateful swallow of the water, before he replies to the other, "And I know it looks that way, but its not like we're putting on matching outfits and fighting crime, she's the face of the fund that pays some of our client's bills, and that's it. We made that clear the other night, it's just, taking some time to get used to what that means." Clearly Matt's blindness has spread from his eyes to his brain. 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' Claire can't help but smile as she cracks her own bottle open and draws a sip. "Just be safe about it, is what I'm saying," she allows. "Because honestly? If she's the type to check on the kind of handiwork I have to do for you, and she's going to come swanning into Josie's, of all places, to look for you? Matt, women have a sense on this stuff. It's better than yours." She takes another drag from the water bottle before she needles again. "If you don't believe me, just ask Karen. Maybe not Foggy... oh, wait, I know!" Her grin is wicked. "Just ask Jess!" 

:'''{{#var:89|Matt Murdock (89)}} has posed:''' Matt quirks a brow, "Be safe, how?" he asks. "If you're telling me to use protection, I am sure there's a Catholic joke I could make here," he says deflecting with humour, but he got the point. "We're keeping our distance, so, if there's anything there, any feelings, we'll just let them die on their own." Just like they did over those years apart, right? Good luck. He takes, another swing of his water, but almost spits it out with a snort. He smiles bemusedly. "I am still hiding from Jess," he says, with a bit of humour in his tone. 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' Occasionally, Claire delights in hitting a nerve. Like now, for instance. "Hiding from a PI," she says, nodding her head. "Smart. Just how long do you expect that to last?" she asks, keeping her tone light. Jess' temper could always provide entertainment, within limits. Elektra, on the other hand, would be a matter to observe for the time being, insofar as she could. Her expression darkens minutely when she realizes just how much she doesn't -- can't -- know, but every so often she knows that a window will present itself. She dismisses the thought with a tiny shake of her head. "You do realize, whatever happens, she won't let you live that flub down," she says, returning to Jess and Matt's theoretically impending doom on that front. 

:'''{{#var:89|Matt Murdock (89)}} has posed:''' Matt offers a genuine smile this time, though a guarded one, but that's Matt for you, "Well, you're the one who said I like uphill climbs?" he says in teasing echo of her words. "Besides, she has motivation not to find me, she promised to split her fee with me for helping out, can't find me, can't pay." Not that a few bucks was going to stop Jess, or that Matt would take payment for the flubbed job. Matt nods, "Yeah, sort of resigned myself to that," he admits. "Jess has a long memory, guess I should have got a picture while we were there I can't say for certain but I think she was actually wearing a dress." He lets that sink in while taking another sip of water. 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' Claire snorts. "I don't know if I should be impressed or appalled," she says before she finishes her water and twists the bottle with a crackle. "I mean, she's pretty serious when she's got a case to work, but that's some sacrifice." Needling again... "And you botched it, Murdock. Where's that Catholic guilt now?" she asks with a chuckle that she doesn't bother hiding. 

:'''{{#var:89|Matt Murdock (89)}} has posed:''' "Yeah, heels too by the sound of it," Matt adds with a grin, "Oh, and the voice, you ever hear her 'normal' person voice? I didn't think someone could be so cuttingly cheerful. It's a little scary." Matt chuckles, "What am I supposed to do, put on the suit and break into the place to check it out?" he asks with a laugh, "Besides, I didn't entirely screw things up, did confirm they were telling the truth, and from what I could feel of the school, it was what was just that, a school." There is a bit of a frown though, now, and a thoughtful look with it. As if he's considering if he could have done better somehow. 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' "Well, it's a cover," Claire says with a shrug. "Might want to ask her, but suggesting the suit might not be a good idea. She might go for it," she says with a beat pause, "and you just might try to do it as penance." There's no bite in her tone, but she lets the sentence trail off. "Matt, promise me you're not going to make any vigilante trips upstate as penance." Her voice drops. "I mean it." 

:'''{{#var:89|Matt Murdock (89)}} has posed:''' Matt snaps out of his thoughts with Claire's words. "What? No, that'd be reckless," he says in a sort of distracted agreement. "Besides, I don't drive, might get some weird looks hitching in the suit, he adds joking, before he finishes his water and screws the cap back on. "Anyhow, I should probably go, taken up enough of your time, but, Claire, thanks for listening. I appreciate it," he says with a solemn and earnest look in her direction. 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' "Any time," Claire says, nodding her head slowly. "Bonus points if it isn't an embroidery call," she jibes as she stands up. "Take it easy, will you?" she says without joking. "No matter what Hell's Kitchen says, you can fit in a rest." 

:'''{{#var:89|Matt Murdock (89)}} has posed:''' Getting to his feet, Matt smiles, "I might even bring Thai next time," he says of future visits, before going to collect his cane. As for resting, he smiles, "I'll take that under advisement," then he takes his leave. 
}}

3956/Saline and gauze

2018-02-25T02:09:51Z

Claire T: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2018/02/24 |Location=St. Margaret's Church, Mutant Town |Synopsis=Claire drops off some medical supplies at St. Margaret's, and Vanya and Juggernau..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2018/02/24
|Location=St. Margaret's Church, Mutant Town
|Synopsis=Claire drops off some medical supplies at St. Margaret's, and Vanya and Juggernaut get a chance to catch up on mutual hobbies.
|Cast of Characters=230, 201, 282
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' It's still grotty to-go coffee weather, and Claire Temple hikes up the reusable shopping bag she has on her shoulder before she takes another sip as a bolster against the chill air. She pauses at the top of the steps at the subway station for a few moments, glancing around at the passersby and looking at the traffic in front of St. Margaret's. The afternoon is winding down, and a few of the shops are already closed, their gates and rollaway shields already closed. She sighs. It's a very short walk to the front door of the parish, and she knocks on a door draped with old and slightly ragged purple gauze. The heavy wooden door echoes. 

:'''{{#var:201|Vanya (201)}} has posed:''' One of the two old doors opens inward, exerting its weight on old and weathered hinges to make for a slow, ponderous pull. The inside of the church is warmly lit by the low sun filtering through stained glass windows and a shock of red marks the threshold as a wild-haired and startlingly muscular woman comes into view. "Welcome. That's five dollars entry fee," she greets, lifting her chin while leaning into the door she's holding open for Claire. 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' Claire is surprised, but she tucks her expression into canting her head forward to look at the woman from below her eyebrows. She notes the accent, tattoo, and facial features and files them away for when she's next talking to her favorite PI. "Not according to the deacon who put in the call for me to drop off these supplies," she says, tugging the top of the bag forward in emphasis, revealing a few IV bags of different concoctions. She puts the point of her shoulder against the heft of the door and narrows her eyes. "Would you like to try that one again?" 

:'''{{#var:282|Juggernaut (282)}} has posed:''' Coming down the street is a new figure. He's pretty big, which isn't THAT unusual for Mutant Town. Something like seven feet tall. Built extremely broad and thick. Muscles on muscles on muscles. Less common, but he at least LOOKS human. So hard to say if he's a mutant or the like. His own red hair isn't as bright as the womans, and considerably shorter. Wearing an oversized red tee and jeans, his huge feet are in what's probably custom made boots. He tromps along with a casual disregard for anything around him, glancing here and there as he moves. He glances over at the minor confrontation between Claire and Vanya, slowing to a stop out of curiosity, his big head tilting to one side slightly. He doesn't look like he CARES that much. Just peeking. 

:'''{{#var:201|Vanya (201)}} has posed:''' The red-pantsed woman jamming the doorway smiles toothily and laughs as she steps backwards to open a gap for Claire, noticeably barefoot within the church. "Yes no," Vanya replies with an indecisive tilt of her head. "I was on my way out." 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' Claire raises her eyebrows and looks down at the soft pap-pap of bare feet on the narthex floor as the woman steps back. "Are you?" she asks as she steps in and her eyes shift back and forth while she reminds herself of the location of the medical supply drop box. "Seems it's a lot nicer in here than it is outside. Definitely quieter," she says as an afterthought. Never one to let go of old habits, she reaches across to dip her hands in an old and slightly battered bowl of water bolted next to the door at about her elbow height, and she crosses herself while she spares a glance into the sanctuary. She turns to the woman. "I'm Claire. You are...?" 

:'''{{#var:282|Juggernaut (282)}} has posed:''' Ah, attempted shakedown. That's something Cain can understand. The big man snorts a little as he watches the interaction between the redhead with the accent and the latino woman. He thinks she's latino. He leans on a handy post or the like, crossing his arms over his chest and staring at the pair. Not really trying to hide that he's watching them. He's not doing a lot to draw their attention. On the other hand he is massive, so he's usually kind of hard to miss. If they happen to look at him, he just smiles blandly their way and raises an oversized mitt towards them. 

:'''{{#var:201|Vanya (201)}} has posed:''' "Vanya," the brawler answers easily. "I just finished a nice question-answer with the priest," she adds, hiking a thumb towards where the robed man is cleaning a pew. Glancing around back outside as Claire moves out of the way, Vanya grins as she spots a familiar tower of muscles and cranes her head out to get a better look. "Now what the h*** is he doing here?" she mutters irreverently, moving outside without a second glance. 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' Claire blinks and peeks out the door, by now held open with the massive stop-lock bolted into the base and caught on the more than slightly pitted post just past the jamb. "Who's...?" she gets out before her brain puts together the scene. Geez-oh-man, that guy's *big*. "You know this guy?" 

:'''{{#var:282|Juggernaut (282)}} has posed:''' Cain straightens up when Vanya reacts to him, his brows twitching. He peers closer at the redhead, trying to place her. Hmm. She does look kind of familiar. "Ain't I seen you somewhere before, Red?" He glances up at the nurse in the church when she asks that question. "I don't think we've talked before." He looks back down at Vanya. "You do a lot of shakedowns in churches?" He doesn't sound accusing. Just curious. 

:'''{{#var:201|Vanya (201)}} has posed:''' "This is not the land of Capitalism and taxes?" Vanya asks back in mock surprise as she bleeds in a stronger note of her naturally mild Russian accent. The toothy grin stays on her face as she saunters onto the pavement and suddenly springs towards the Juggernaut, crossing a superhuman gap to latch onto the pole above his head and look down upon the towering mutant. "Maybe with a little of someone else's blood on me. Remembering a little more now?" 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' "Um, she wasn't..." Claire begins before Vanya makes the jump for the pole, waving her hand to divert the notion of a serious shakedown. Then Vanya jumps for the pole and Claire blanches. She puts the shopping bag down onto a nearby table and leans against the door, her body bladed just enough that she could roll her shoulder back around to shelter in the building if the springing jump has an unfortunate encounter with the... and Claire takes a deep breath as she regards the pair... immovable object waiting just past the steps. She looks back at the bag and makes a quick mental calculation, then continues watching the encounter. 

:'''{{#var:282|Juggernaut (282)}} has posed:''' Cain grunts at that. "Uh-huh. Whatever you say, comrade." Then the woman is leaping towards him, and he starts to draw back a fist.... but she just latches onto the pole, and he looks up at her with an amused expression. "Ah, right. You're the one that likes the fights. I think I've seen you going once or twice." If he was impressed by what he saw, he's not showing it. "What're you doing hanging around a god box? Just bored?" He rests his hand on the pole, shaking it a little to see how she reacts. Because why not. He glances over at Claire. "Name is Cain, by the way. How's it goin?" He winks at her. Was it a flirty sort of wink? ...yeah. Kinda. Then his attention returns to the mutant. 

:'''{{#var:201|Vanya (201)}} has posed:''' Vanya may as well be glued on like a certain spider. The pole wavers in submission to Cain's push but all the wild brawler does is wave with it, clamped tightly to the cool metal above him. "Da," she admits casually, repaying the jab with true Russian. She even goes so far as releasing her hands, crossing them beneath her chest as she lets her upper half fall backwards and dangle closer to eye level - supported now by just her legs wrapped around the metal trunk. Rumors around the ring didn't lie; she's still a show-off. "And you?" Vanya tosses back. "There aren't many things even here that can take more than one of your punches." 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' It's interesting, is what it is, the nurse thinks with a tiny huffed laugh. Just another one of those days, Claire decides, but she doesn't say it. "Going fine," she says without too much pause, tipping her head in something of a shrug with a shot at being flippant. Eyeing the pair outside and satisfying herself that bloodshed was not imminent, she fishes around on her keyring for the lockbox key and makes a quick dash to put the supplies she'd delivered into the tiny storage space before she returns to the door, reusable shopping bag tucked under her arm. 

:'''{{#var:282|Juggernaut (282)}} has posed:''' Juggernaut leans on the pole, tilting his head. "Well, yeah. I'm just about the strongest guy on the planet after all." Which is a really arrogant to say in a world with people like Superman and the Hilk. Generally that sort of claim can be assumed to just be bravado. "Me? I live in the area. Just passing through. And you? Uh....I forget what your name is, Red." He glances at Claire as he says this, raising a brow. She never gave her name, either. 

:'''{{#var:201|Vanya (201)}} has posed:''' "Tch, such forgetfulness from my son-in-law," the brawler-up-a-pole bemoans as she rolls her eyes up - well, down. Juggernaut gets a toothy smirk. "But I guess it is fitting for the strongest man to be related to the greatest predator." "And the name is 'Vanya'," she adds. 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' Claire's eyebrows shoot up at the look. "Claire," she says, piping up. "I... well, yeah, passing through," she says, figuring that's good enough for now while she's watching and listening. Her mother's and grandmother's piety pinging on her memory, she takes a second to dip her fingers back into the water and cross herself and look back in on the pews and the candlelight before she steps back out of the church, sidling carefully toward a corner of the steps that could let her make an unobtrusive trip back to the subway pit. 

:'''{{#var:282|Juggernaut (282)}} has posed:''' Juggernaut nods to the redhead, giving her a curious look about the son-in-law thing. Maybe he doesn't get the joke. "Vanya, huh. Sounds about right." Then he nods over to the nurse. "Claire. Nice to meet you, darlin." He steps away from the pole and absently stretches, those muscles he's packed to the brims with straining his clothes briefly. Like him stretching actually made him slightly bigger for a second or two. Probably a trick of the light or something. "Y'know, I haven't gotten in on the scene for a while. You know of anything fun coming up?" He looks at Claire again. "Don't be shy by the way. Feel free to come join in." 

:'''{{#var:201|Vanya (201)}} has posed:''' Vanya continues to hang even as Juggernaut moves away, her hair dangling loosely towards the ground. Her nostrils flare as her gaze idly wanders up and down the towering man's back, and her smirk settles back into an easy grin. "Maybe a wedding?" the brawler tosses out with a chuckle. "I heard how you *$#@ed my daughter, even destroyed a hotel?" Despite the topic she's raising, the Russian uncrosses her arms enough to wave Claire inward, not minding the company. "And I bet this one knows where to have the ceremony." 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' Despite herself and even realizing that her discomfort knows better by now, Claire comes back in a pace and takes a place in the conversation. She sees Cain's shoulders come back down out of his stretch and blinks, holding back a surprised head shake just to look up at his casual height with her eyebrows raised. She stops short at Vanya's remark. Really, casually talking about destruction shouldn't faze her in the slightest. She collects herself enough to snort. "Here's open," she says, hooking a thumb toward the parish door. "You might want to arrange to do a nice 'question-answer with the priest' about the whole wrecking the hotel thing, though. They get nervous about unplanned expenses," she deadpans. 

:'''{{#var:282|Juggernaut (282)}} has posed:''' Juggernaut turns back towards Vanya, brows raising at the feral woman. "Your daughter, huh? Hmmm. Tall lady? Sharp teeth? Tail? Yeah, I remember that. Didn't know you were related. But nah. We're not getting married. I haven't really seen her much since then, actually." He looks down at Claire and grins. "And really, it was just the one room. Mostly the bed." He waggles his brows briefly at the much shorter woman. He glances over at the parish and shakes his head though. "I don't really do churches. We do't...mesh." Whatever that means. It's not like they're aware he's powered by a demonic god. 

:'''{{#var:201|Vanya (201)}} has posed:''' "We don't either, but how many Soviet beasts can be on this planet at one time, huh? She's the right age to be my daughter, so..." Releasing her grip on the pole, Vanya tumbles to the ground, landing with a thump on her feet before standing up and flicking her hair behind her head. "She's moya doch'," the werewoman shrugs. "You might like my god better. He could put you on your back," she adds to the Juggernaut while hiking a thumb to the runic mark that sprawls the height of her face and glancing provocatively to Claire and the church behind her. 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' Claire follows the glance and looks back at the church, feeling a little guilty at leaving the door open while she watches the priest tug it shut from the anchor. "No good reason to be putting anyone on their back, even though not everyone meshes with the place," she says, looking at Vanya and Cain in turn. "So... what? You've got family dating in the local fight club?" 

:'''{{#var:282|Juggernaut (282)}} has posed:''' Juggernaut grunts over at the redheaded shapeshifter. "I don't know what that means, but if you say so." He focuses briefly on the tattoo on her face, studying it curiously. "Tempting. But that wouldn't really work either. I've already got all the... divine support I need." He shrugs over at Claire and smiles. "Eh... not exactly. Don't worry about it, beautiful." There's something about his attitude that seems... slightly old-fashioned. Like he's not as young as he looks. 

:'''{{#var:201|Vanya (201)}} has posed:''' "Not support, he could beat you up," Vanya chuckles before turning to Claire, then performing a double-take between her and Juggernaut at the man's comment. The brawler's chuckle devolves to a snicker as she shakes her head. 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' Claire quirks at Cain. Well, then. "If you ask me," she allows, "this city gets into the beating people up thing a little too often." She tucks her hands into the pockets in her scrubs. "I'd be willing to bet at least half of what I just dropped off for the free clinic goes to dealing with people beating each other up." There. Professional pride soothed, Claire sighs. She eyes the tattoo on Vanya's face again and squints. Filing away for later. 

:'''{{#var:282|Juggernaut (282)}} has posed:''' Juggernaut shrugs a shoulder. "Sometimes beating people up is the best solution to a problem. Sometimes, who knows. Maybe people're just trying to make a livin. Or maybe somebody was asking for it. It varies, you know?" He peers down at Claire. "And hey. Sounds like all that beatin gave you something to do today, so there's that." 

:'''{{#var:201|Vanya (201)}} has posed:''' "And it's much more fun than pushing a pencil," Vanya shrugs. "Little injuries are normal. If you aren't getting hurt you aren't living." 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' "Little injuries, I don't hear about. Partially disemboweled? I get a call. Sucking chest wound? I need to pick up a roll of tape. Bullet to pull? I get to grab my kit and make a run on the subway," Claire says, reciting the list as though it's a mantra. "I like it better when there's no question they get to keep living, period. Sometimes my things to do are..." She splays her fingers out in front of her as though she's pushing the argument away from herself. "Look, if you're in the neighborhood, just keep an eye on the place, y'know? Someone'll need the help. Don't let the supplies go to waste, huh?" She eyes each one once, then twice, before she turns. There'd better not be a black market for citrate bags... 

:'''{{#var:282|Juggernaut (282)}} has posed:''' Cain considers that a bit. "Well, I guess. Some people choose that type of life though."He digs into a pocket, and pulls out a card. Just his name, and a number on it. She may or may not be able to figure out who he actually is from the full name later. He leans over, and tucks it into one of her pockets. "You seem like a nice enough lady though. Gimme a call if you ever need anytthing." He smiles at her. "And I mean anything." Ah, the subtlety of the Juggernaut flirting. He glances over Vanya. "And you, lemme know next time there's a thing, yeah? I'll make an appearance, wow some people." 

:'''{{#var:201|Vanya (201)}} has posed:''' Vanya watches the exchange with amusement and tucks her hands behind her head. "Yes, I'll just shout 'hey Juggernaut!' on the street and see if you can hear that. Maybe if I get matched with someone made of metal again. Metal is no fun..." the brawler grumbles before looking back to Claire, still giving the less physically imposing woman proportionally less attention than the enormous man beside her. "Sure. If I see someone breaking into a church I will use it for some exercise. Maybe I'll be lucky and it will be gargoyles..." 

:'''{{#var:282|Juggernaut (282)}} has posed:''' Juggernaut considers for a time, then pulls out a second card and passes it over to Vanya. "Good point." 

:'''{{#var:201|Vanya (201)}} has posed:''' Vanya glances only for a moment at the card before handing it right back. "No phone, big guy." 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' The handle catches Claire's attention, and she gives the card a considering look... then the discussion of people in fight club being made of metal and getting exercise dealing with church break-ins gives Claire her cue. She waves and starts walking away, backwards, waving to the pair before she crosses the street to go back to the subway station. "I'll let you know if I'm around and need anything," she says from the near curb before she goes. 
}}

3801/Superb Owl

2018-02-07T06:20:51Z

Claire T:

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2018/02/04
|Location=Out on the street in Hell's Kitchen
|Synopsis=Danny finds Claire while she's walking home from work on Super Bowl Sunday. Thor drops in (literally -- no, there's a crater).
|Cast of Characters=230, 17, 107
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' It's still light out, so Hell's Kitchen still has people making their way up and down the sidewalks with little fear of the borough's reputation after dark. There isn't much socialization going on, because New York is still in its winter chill, and the wind through the buildings can put a freeze on even the toughest walker. Vehicle traffic is making its way around fairly easily, albeit with quite a bit of road slush. Claire Temple is picking her way home, having stopped on the way back from work to grab a sandwich and some (possibly now cooled) soup to enjoy instead of worrying about cooking for the evening. She smiles and shakes her head when she looks up at the football flags hanging off some people's fire escapes, not quite interested in the rivalry enough to try watching the game herself. With a sigh and a step around some pounded snow in the middle of her path, she tucks the small plastic bag with supper into her jacket to try to keep it warm before she reaches Instrata. 

:'''{{#var:17|Iron Fist (17)}} has posed:'''     Today was like any other day for Danny Rand. He wasn't terribly into sports before he went to K'un-Lun, and his company wasn't too involved either. They did have the naming rights to the Portland Timber's stadium, and they sponsored a number of youth sides in a variety of sports, but that was the extent of their interest in athletics. He had bought a few clothing companies, since he wanted to have some say in designing his Iron Fist suit, but mostly, it was gym wear.     With so many people concentrating on today's sporting event, he figured it was the perfect opportunity for criminals, so he was out and about, wearing his super suit under his clothes, a grey and blue jumper, warm pants, and green sneakers with green accents. It was the only part of his so-called uniform that peeked out. Seeing Claire, as he smiled, and immediately crossed the street, though he did so without really looking, and nearly got hit by a car, "sorry, sorry, I'm so sorry," he said to the driver who flipped him off, and he made his way over, "Claire, how are you?" Ah, he was so child like. He saw someone he knew and he immediately wanted to greet them, regardless of what they were up to and whether it was socially acceptable. 

:'''{{#var:107|Thor (107)}} has posed:'''     The driver will wish he had spent more time conversing with Danny as about a second after the Defender crosses his path, an Avenger crashes into the pavement with a resounding and ear scrunching THUNK!     The Avenger in question reaches up out of his crater with a meat hook and grabs onto the bumper and pulls himself out of the hole with his cape beyond ruined. It's simply a piece of formerly red cloth danging from one shoulder now. Thor looks up into the skies and above the building's rooftops. "What was that?!" He inquires to no one, and everyone by the volume of his booming voice. 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' "Danny! What --" Claire begins when the impact brings her up short. She hasn't the slightest idea just what that was, and neither do her adrenal glands, but thankfully her bladder is a lot more stoic. She puts out an arm unconsciously in case Danny has so much as a shoelace off the curb when the impolite driver meets his special surprise. Intellectually, she's not sure she can offer much protection from either a car or a falling Avenger, and she's sure she can't do much for a chi-powered kung fu adept, but it's the principle of the thing, she's sure. Yeah, right. "This... this... uh, do you know what this is about?" she asks Danny thickly. It's very hard to restrain the urge to back away from the curb. Claire clearly hasn't seen enough weird. Yet. 

:'''{{#var:17|Iron Fist (17)}} has posed:'''     Danny has seen his share of weird. He fought and plunged his hands into the heart of Shao-Lao, the Undying. There was no way to even broach that subject without it sounding weird, the more layers he peeled off, the stranger it all became. But seeing a man descend from the heavens, creating a crater in the New York cement, was enough to throw anyone off, chi-powered Kung Fu adepts included. "I... have no idea. But I think he's called Thor." Danny at least had seen the videos, so he knew enough to recognise Thor, and in typical Danny fashion, his first thought was to ask the God, "do you need help?" 

:'''{{#var:107|Thor (107)}} has posed:'''     Thor is halfway out of his crater when Danny speaks up and the son of Odin blinks his brilliant blue eyes in the martial artist's direction before he extends his free hand as acceptance for the help.     "Thank you tiny human." The man says as he pushes up off of the car's bumper causing the whole thing to lurch forward as the back wheels shift in the motion transfer. Pulling up on Danny further out of the roughly man shaped hole, Thor lets go of the car and the bumper drops to the ground with a heavy clatter before the godling looks over and down, "Horseless Chariots have gotten severely weaker, and ... yellow since the last time I was here." The god says to no one before looking to Danny and Claire. "Can you two tell me what part of the burough I am in?" He's not the smartest, no. 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' Claire clears her throat. "Hell's Kitchen," she offers, raising her voice to only slightly louder than Danny's. She takes a long look at the crater and at the taxi's bumper, shaking her head in vague shock. "Gonna guess you're not from around here," she says as she makes a cautious step toward the vehicle, canting her head to the side to see if she can detect any physical distress inside the cabin. 

:'''{{#var:17|Iron Fist (17)}} has posed:'''     Danny, in a bit of charity, looks to the man, still in the car, and reached into his pocket, finding a business card. He quickly handed it to the man, kind of having to work around Claire to do so, who was absolutely shell shocked, "contact this number. They might be able to help." He had learned not to commit to anything specific, but he was interested in helping. The damage to the car was probably not covered by insurance. "In Manhattan, New York," Danny added, in the off chance Thor for some reason didn't know what Hell's Kitchen was. 

:'''{{#var:107|Thor (107)}} has posed:'''     Thor looks around and frowns. "Hell's Kitchen, Innanhattan, New York." The god says, lifting his hand to his chin and looking like he's thinking, but about to break his mind if he tries too hard. "Is that far from the Avenger's mansion?" He asks no one again, but he looks to the man in the car with a gasp of air pulled into his great lungs.     Thor lifts the bumper in one hand and moves over, urging Claire and Danny out of the way with his free hand. "Sir. I believe this is your identification." He says, motioning to the numbers and letters on the plate of metal on the bumper. "I believe you will be needing this." He says, with a firm nod before turning and starting to march down the street in the opposite direction of the Avenger's mansion. 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' "You're not hurt? No?" Claire takes a deep breath. Small mercies are practically everything. "Okay. That number he gave you? Go ahead and call that when you get out of your car later on." She blinks a few times as she steps back onto the sidewalk, finally registering the oddly wet sensation under her jacket and coming back into the present moment to groan at her now fashionable soup. In her shock, she'd held her arms in tight, and... well, paper containers weren't made for crush resistance. "Gah... okay, not my night," she allows as she wraps her jacket back around her tightly -- what the hell. "Danny, what brings you out here?" she asks, resuming her earlier inquiry. Just rolling right along, Claire is. Yep. 

:'''{{#var:17|Iron Fist (17)}} has posed:'''     "Not far, maybe three or four kilometres?" Danny said to Thor, "and uh, that way," he pointed in the general direction. Even he knew where Avengers Mansion was, though it was strange that Thor didn't. Danny, sensing that Claire had just gotten soaked by her soup, took his jumper off and offered it to her. He had a shirt on underneath, and beneath that, a costume. "This'll help keep you warm." And then, in answer to her question, "I was... uh, patrolling. I figured with the game on, people might be up to something bad." 

:'''{{#var:107|Thor (107)}} has posed:'''     "Thank you tiny stranger. I appreciate your help." Then with a turn on his heal, Thor starts to walk back past with that kindly practiced smile on his lips. Yes it's obviously practiced because it's not exactly second nature for the son of Odin.     "It seems your friend is with child. I wish her luck." The god of Thunder says with a wave of his thick hand before he marches down the street in the correct direction, yes, the street, unphased by the cars honking at him and the bike messengers speeding past. 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' "It's not the chill," Claire allows, gently refusing the jumper. "It's the... ugh," she winces, "Chicken broth and spices. I smell like some of my patients," she laments under her breath. She stops short at the Avenger's proclamation, eyes wide. "You're... No, no I am not!" she yells down the street, not worrying about how close she is to Danny's ears. She leans against the nearest brick wall. "He'd better be just mistaking chicken noodle for lactation," she growls. "Tell me his powers aren't..." 

:'''{{#var:17|Iron Fist (17)}} has posed:'''     "Beats me, all I know about him is what I read on the news." Danny puts his jumper back on when Claire doesn't want it. "It'll clean. Don't worry." His ears were still ringing from her screaming so close to him, but he tried not to make it too obvious. "I'm not tiny either," he added after a moment. So even Danny had a little vanity. Watching Thor, he shook his head. "Should I follow him?" He wasn't too sure how to handle a god. "This isn't like when I faced Shao-Lao the Undying..." he began. 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' "You're seriously thinking about punching him?!" Claire asks incredulously, her voice climbing half an octave. "Are you kidding? And why would you follow him?" Her mind reels at just what Danny's hoping to do to someone who innocently stops traffic by punching a silhouette crater into a Manhattan street. "He's peacefully walking away," she says after a few calming breaths. "Not much more to do about it. Let the Avengers take care of him," she says. "Not much bad out tonight until everyone finds out who wins the game. You should go home." 

:'''{{#var:17|Iron Fist (17)}} has posed:'''     "No! " Danny replied immediately in a louder voice than he intended, "no, of course not," he added at a more normal volume, "he's a good guy," and then looks at the crater, "most of the time. But, you can't just make craters in the street. It's not right." And when she insists that he return home, he pondered for a moment where that was. He didn't think of the penthouse apartment as his home, or the office. That was just where he slept, or sometimes worked. But neither were what he'd call home. "I might just do that. It's a quiet night. Can I walk you to your door first, to make sure you get home okay?" 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' Claire sighs and nods her head. "Yeah," she allows. "Yeah, okay," she says, standing back up and taking a step down the sidewalk. "It's not too far," she notes, shaking out her legs to give them a little more circulation and warmth. She steps carefully, digging her heel into some snow. "Colleen's probably waiting up," she says. 

:'''{{#var:17|Iron Fist (17)}} has posed:'''     "She'd want to know that you go home safe and sound," Danny replied without missing a beat. He made a point of walking on the side of the street closest to the cars. It was something his dad had taught him. Men should always put themselves between the street and any woman they were walking with. He might not be up on pop culture, or be able to tell when someone was lying to him, but he had his strengths too. After making sure that Claire did in fact get home safely, he turned and began heading home, to Colleen. And in the morning, he'd have a claim from a Medallion Taxi driver for the repair of a cab, shock, emotional distress, and anything else his lawyer had probably tacked on to try and drive up the price. It wouldn't be a day that ended in 'y' if someone weren't trying to take advantage of Danny's naivete, but that's part of why he liked Colleen so much. She never took advantage of him. She just accepted him for who he was. 
}}

Claire Temple

2018-02-07T04:39:02Z

Claire T:

{{CharacterNew
|NameOnMUSH=Claire Temple
|Color=#333
|Char_id=230
|Img=https://www.unitedheroesmush.com/images/5/51/Cler.jpg
|FullName=Claire Temple
|Gender=Female
|Species=Human
|Theme=Marvel
|Chartype=AFC
|Active=Approved
|Occupation=Nurse
|Groups=[[Defenders]], [[Just Cause]]
|Quote="You've got to be kidding me."
|PAge=Late 20s
|AAge=28
|DOB=5 July 1997
|Height=170 cm
|Weight=57 kg
|Hair=Black
|Eyes=Brown
|Actor=Rosario Dawson
|Song=
|Profile=Drafted involuntarily into the war of Hell's Kitchen, Claire Temple pits herself in dual roles: emergency nurse by day and a healer and mender of New York's vigilantes by night. Known purely by word-of-mouth, and her identity marginally sheltered to keep the monsters off her doorstep, there is alluded talk to a "night nurse" among the street-level heroes: a woman you call for the emergencies without worries of police reports or uncovered identities. She performs unparalleled surgical work in the most sparse and bereft of conditions, maintains strict doctor-patient confidentiality, and makes damn sure her patients stay alive. She's certain she's in over her head, but she's seen too much and she's sick of being afraid. What's a woman to do?
|Description=Claire Temple is of average height, with long, black, and ever-so-slightly curled hair worn in a manner most practical for her work or play. Her skin is light brown. Claire wears some jewelry (her ears are pierced), and she generally has a necklace on, but she prefers to keep those adornments simple. Her clothing is fashionable when she has a choice (and at work, she never does), but even her scrubs fit well. Her off-duty clothes are simple and flattering, but especially practical, because her night job doesn't always give her the opportunity to pull on scrubs.
|Skills='''BRILLIANT''' There's no other way to say it. Claire's brilliant, in her knowledge, her adaptability, her insight, her observation... There's not much that gets past Claire, and she doesn't even need to hear heartbeats to pick up on it. If she'd had the resources while she was getting her education, she could have made a phenomenal ER physician, but as it is, she's a /de facto/ physician (or unofficial nurse practitioner) to the superhero and vigilante community at large. Few run-of-the-mill MD's could take on such an arduous caseload, but Claire's become a guardian angel to plenty of men and women in and out of masks and aliases. She herself might not be superpowered in a way that might show up on SHIELD's radar, but what she has is utterly brilliant. '''COMMUNITY NURSE''' Claire is a trusted presence in her neighborhood. If someone's having trouble deciding whether going to the ER is a good idea, they ask for Claire's opinion. She's a valuable resource when the doctor's orders or the prescription instructions aren't clear. Sometimes getting set up to go to the hospital for a minor injury seems to be more trouble than it's worth, so occasionally Claire gets a knock on the door from someone who lives a floor or two from her place. She doesn't complain, considering how those calls compare to some of the other surprise medical visits she gets (that also, maybe not coincidentally, rarely knock on her door). '''RN IN THE ER''' Claire is, of course, a nurse. She's licensed in the state of New York to do everything a registered nurse does, and she has the years of experience to be very, very efficient in doing her work in very trying circumstances. She has experience training advanced nursing students in how to handle themselves in the emergency medicine domain, but she prefers to leave instructing the next generation to the people who actually want the preceptor job. For her part, she's got more important things to do (or so she feels). '''SIGHT OF BLOOD (NOT HER OWN)''' Compartmentalizing one's empathy is important for ER clinicians. The overly empathetic may be prone to cringing away from patients' illnesses and injuries, or worse, may report pain or illness themselves. Claire Temple experiences no such difficulties. She can grit her teeth, patch wounds, and stick needles with little trouble, although she may have some discomfort and distress depending on the depth of her relationship with the patient. She's not made of stone! '''STREET MEDIC''' The name of the game is adaptability. Claire's tremendous knowledge of how to put the human body to rights finds expression in all kinds of crazy situations. She's done light abdominal surgery on her kitchen table. Couches work as passable surgical beds, so long as the patient is lined up properly. Claire always prefers to work indoors, but she could sling up an IV bag in a back alley if necessary. It's not about the instruments, environment, and supplies -- it's about how they can be used to help her patient, wherever she is.
|Resources='''NO ONE'LL MISS 'EM''' Disposable supplies are the lifeline for Claire's informal practice. She sneaks out whatever she can slip out of the supply closets -- suture packets, gauze, tape, and for the damn fool idiot vigilantes that keep getting themselves sliced up because they either go out when they shouldn't or because they don't have functional body armor, Hello Kitty band-aids. The hospital keeps on ordering, and as the staff keep going through the supplies like veritable popcorn, Claire has the opportunity to skim off the top.
|Weaknesses='''OVER IT''' Knock it the hell off. Call it whatever you want -- machismo, toxic masculinity, plain ol' stupidity -- Claire's had it up to *here* with it. She has no patience whatsoever for posturing, measuring contests, or any of the other idiot games some of these powered morons play to make themselves feel superior to each other, whether it's when they first meet or when they simply disagree on a course of action. Enough's enough. Could you quit acting like jerks for long enough to take out those Doombots over there? Great, thanks. '''SIGHT OF BLOOD (HER OWN)''' Claire can handle seeing someone else's blood, and she can even manage to deal with seeing the blood of a loved one wounded in front of her (though sometimes with considerable difficulty). She's internalized her wariness, though, to the point that she panics if she takes a bleeding injury in all the fights among the supers and the vigilantes. Expect her to need to find where a wall joins a floor and to need to sit down for a while... Okay, need to calm down, maybe they didn't poison their weapons this time... Breathe, Claire, breathe... '''TERRIBLE PATIENT''' The stereotypes are occasionally true. It's not so much that she thinks she'd be victim of a Hand doc or nurse (though the thought has occurred), it's that she really, truly hates being a patient, period. Part of it is that she can be quite tough with her patients if she feels she should be, and she's not all that comfortable with being in a vulnerable position in front of them later on. The other part is that she simply hates having to submit to medical care, and she wants it to be over and done with as quickly as possible, with a minimum of disruption to her life. She's seen enough cases go south in the ER that she doesn't like to be in that precarious state herself.
}}
[[Category:Just Cause]][[Category:Defenders]]

3801/Superb Owl

2018-02-07T04:37:39Z

Claire T: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2017/02/04 |Location=Out on the street in Hell's Kitchen |Synopsis=Danny finds Claire while she's walking home from work on Super Bowl Sunday. Thor..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2017/02/04
|Location=Out on the street in Hell's Kitchen
|Synopsis=Danny finds Claire while she's walking home from work on Super Bowl Sunday. Thor drops in (literally -- no, there's a crater).
|Cast of Characters=230, 17, 107
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' It's still light out, so Hell's Kitchen still has people making their way up and down the sidewalks with little fear of the borough's reputation after dark. There isn't much socialization going on, because New York is still in its winter chill, and the wind through the buildings can put a freeze on even the toughest walker. Vehicle traffic is making its way around fairly easily, albeit with quite a bit of road slush. Claire Temple is picking her way home, having stopped on the way back from work to grab a sandwich and some (possibly now cooled) soup to enjoy instead of worrying about cooking for the evening. She smiles and shakes her head when she looks up at the football flags hanging off some people's fire escapes, not quite interested in the rivalry enough to try watching the game herself. With a sigh and a step around some pounded snow in the middle of her path, she tucks the small plastic bag with supper into her jacket to try to keep it warm before she reaches Instrata. 

:'''{{#var:17|Iron Fist (17)}} has posed:'''     Today was like any other day for Danny Rand. He wasn't terribly into sports before he went to K'un-Lun, and his company wasn't too involved either. They did have the naming rights to the Portland Timber's stadium, and they sponsored a number of youth sides in a variety of sports, but that was the extent of their interest in athletics. He had bought a few clothing companies, since he wanted to have some say in designing his Iron Fist suit, but mostly, it was gym wear.     With so many people concentrating on today's sporting event, he figured it was the perfect opportunity for criminals, so he was out and about, wearing his super suit under his clothes, a grey and blue jumper, warm pants, and green sneakers with green accents. It was the only part of his so-called uniform that peeked out. Seeing Claire, as he smiled, and immediately crossed the street, though he did so without really looking, and nearly got hit by a car, "sorry, sorry, I'm so sorry," he said to the driver who flipped him off, and he made his way over, "Claire, how are you?" Ah, he was so child like. He saw someone he knew and he immediately wanted to greet them, regardless of what they were up to and whether it was socially acceptable. 

:'''{{#var:107|Thor (107)}} has posed:'''     The driver will wish he had spent more time conversing with Danny as about a second after the Defender crosses his path, an Avenger crashes into the pavement with a resounding and ear scrunching THUNK!     The Avenger in question reaches up out of his crater with a meat hook and grabs onto the bumper and pulls himself out of the hole with his cape beyond ruined. It's simply a piece of formerly red cloth danging from one shoulder now. Thor looks up into the skies and above the building's rooftops. "What was that?!" He inquires to no one, and everyone by the volume of his booming voice. 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' "Danny! What --" Claire begins when the impact brings her up short. She hasn't the slightest idea just what that was, and neither do her adrenal glands, but thankfully her bladder is a lot more stoic. She puts out an arm unconsciously in case Danny has so much as a shoelace off the curb when the impolite driver meets his special surprise. Intellectually, she's not sure she can offer much protection from either a car or a falling Avenger, and she's sure she can't do much for a chi-powered kung fu adept, but it's the principle of the thing, she's sure. Yeah, right. "This... this... uh, do you know what this is about?" she asks Danny thickly. It's very hard to restrain the urge to back away from the curb. Claire clearly hasn't seen enough weird. Yet. 

:'''{{#var:17|Iron Fist (17)}} has posed:'''     Danny has seen his share of weird. He fought and plunged his hands into the heart of Shao-Lao, the Undying. There was no way to even broach that subject without it sounding weird, the more layers he peeled off, the stranger it all became. But seeing a man descend from the heavens, creating a crater in the New York cement, was enough to throw anyone off, chi-powered Kung Fu adepts included. "I... have no idea. But I think he's called Thor." Danny at least had seen the videos, so he knew enough to recognise Thor, and in typical Danny fashion, his first thought was to ask the God, "do you need help?" 

:'''{{#var:107|Thor (107)}} has posed:'''     Thor is halfway out of his crater when Danny speaks up and the son of Odin blinks his brilliant blue eyes in the martial artist's direction before he extends his free hand as acceptance for the help.     "Thank you tiny human." The man says as he pushes up off of the car's bumper causing the whole thing to lurch forward as the back wheels shift in the motion transfer. Pulling up on Danny further out of the roughly man shaped hole, Thor lets go of the car and the bumper drops to the ground with a heavy clatter before the godling looks over and down, "Horseless Chariots have gotten severely weaker, and ... yellow since the last time I was here." The god says to no one before looking to Danny and Claire. "Can you two tell me what part of the burough I am in?" He's not the smartest, no. 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' Claire clears her throat. "Hell's Kitchen," she offers, raising her voice to only slightly louder than Danny's. She takes a long look at the crater and at the taxi's bumper, shaking her head in vague shock. "Gonna guess you're not from around here," she says as she makes a cautious step toward the vehicle, canting her head to the side to see if she can detect any physical distress inside the cabin. 

:'''{{#var:17|Iron Fist (17)}} has posed:'''     Danny, in a bit of charity, looks to the man, still in the car, and reached into his pocket, finding a business card. He quickly handed it to the man, kind of having to work around Claire to do so, who was absolutely shell shocked, "contact this number. They might be able to help." He had learned not to commit to anything specific, but he was interested in helping. The damage to the car was probably not covered by insurance. "In Manhattan, New York," Danny added, in the off chance Thor for some reason didn't know what Hell's Kitchen was. 

:'''{{#var:107|Thor (107)}} has posed:'''     Thor looks around and frowns. "Hell's Kitchen, Innanhattan, New York." The god says, lifting his hand to his chin and looking like he's thinking, but about to break his mind if he tries too hard. "Is that far from the Avenger's mansion?" He asks no one again, but he looks to the man in the car with a gasp of air pulled into his great lungs.     Thor lifts the bumper in one hand and moves over, urging Claire and Danny out of the way with his free hand. "Sir. I believe this is your identification." He says, motioning to the numbers and letters on the plate of metal on the bumper. "I believe you will be needing this." He says, with a firm nod before turning and starting to march down the street in the opposite direction of the Avenger's mansion. 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' "You're not hurt? No?" Claire takes a deep breath. Small mercies are practically everything. "Okay. That number he gave you? Go ahead and call that when you get out of your car later on." She blinks a few times as she steps back onto the sidewalk, finally registering the oddly wet sensation under her jacket and coming back into the present moment to groan at her now fashionable soup. In her shock, she'd held her arms in tight, and... well, paper containers weren't made for crush resistance. "Gah... okay, not my night," she allows as she wraps her jacket back around her tightly -- what the hell. "Danny, what brings you out here?" she asks, resuming her earlier inquiry. Just rolling right along, Claire is. Yep. 

:'''{{#var:17|Iron Fist (17)}} has posed:'''     "Not far, maybe three or four kilometres?" Danny said to Thor, "and uh, that way," he pointed in the general direction. Even he knew where Avengers Mansion was, though it was strange that Thor didn't. Danny, sensing that Claire had just gotten soaked by her soup, took his jumper off and offered it to her. He had a shirt on underneath, and beneath that, a costume. "This'll help keep you warm." And then, in answer to her question, "I was... uh, patrolling. I figured with the game on, people might be up to something bad." 

:'''{{#var:107|Thor (107)}} has posed:'''     "Thank you tiny stranger. I appreciate your help." Then with a turn on his heal, Thor starts to walk back past with that kindly practiced smile on his lips. Yes it's obviously practiced because it's not exactly second nature for the son of Odin.     "It seems your friend is with child. I wish her luck." The god of Thunder says with a wave of his thick hand before he marches down the street in the correct direction, yes, the street, unphased by the cars honking at him and the bike messengers speeding past. 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' "It's not the chill," Claire allows, gently refusing the jumper. "It's the... ugh," she winces, "Chicken broth and spices. I smell like some of my patients," she laments under her breath. She stops short at the Avenger's proclamation, eyes wide. "You're... No, no I am not!" she yells down the street, not worrying about how close she is to Danny's ears. She leans against the nearest brick wall. "He'd better be just mistaking chicken noodle for lactation," she growls. "Tell me his powers aren't..." 

:'''{{#var:17|Iron Fist (17)}} has posed:'''     "Beats me, all I know about him is what I read on the news." Danny puts his jumper back on when Claire doesn't want it. "It'll clean. Don't worry." His ears were still ringing from her screaming so close to him, but he tried not to make it too obvious. "I'm not tiny either," he added after a moment. So even Danny had a little vanity. Watching Thor, he shook his head. "Should I follow him?" He wasn't too sure how to handle a god. "This isn't like when I faced Shao-Lao the Undying..." he began. 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' "You're seriously thinking about punching him?!" Claire asks incredulously, her voice climbing half an octave. "Are you kidding? And why would you follow him?" Her mind reels at just what Danny's hoping to do to someone who innocently stops traffic by punching a silhouette crater into a Manhattan street. "He's peacefully walking away," she says after a few calming breaths. "Not much more to do about it. Let the Avengers take care of him," she says. "Not much bad out tonight until everyone finds out who wins the game. You should go home." 

:'''{{#var:17|Iron Fist (17)}} has posed:'''     "No! " Danny replied immediately in a louder voice than he intended, "no, of course not," he added at a more normal volume, "he's a good guy," and then looks at the crater, "most of the time. But, you can't just make craters in the street. It's not right." And when she insists that he return home, he pondered for a moment where that was. He didn't think of the penthouse apartment as his home, or the office. That was just where he slept, or sometimes worked. But neither were what he'd call home. "I might just do that. It's a quiet night. Can I walk you to your door first, to make sure you get home okay?" 

:'''{{#var:230|Claire Temple (230)}} has posed:''' Claire sighs and nods her head. "Yeah," she allows. "Yeah, okay," she says, standing back up and taking a step down the sidewalk. "It's not too far," she notes, shaking out her legs to give them a little more circulation and warmth. She steps carefully, digging her heel into some snow. "Colleen's probably waiting up," she says. 

:'''{{#var:17|Iron Fist (17)}} has posed:'''     "She'd want to know that you go home safe and sound," Danny replied without missing a beat. He made a point of walking on the side of the street closest to the cars. It was something his dad had taught him. Men should always put themselves between the street and any woman they were walking with. He might not be up on pop culture, or be able to tell when someone was lying to him, but he had his strengths too. After making sure that Claire did in fact get home safely, he turned and began heading home, to Colleen. And in the morning, he'd have a claim from a Medallion Taxi driver for the repair of a cab, shock, emotional distress, and anything else his lawyer had probably tacked on to try and drive up the price. It wouldn't be a day that ended in 'y' if someone weren't trying to take advantage of Danny's naivete, but that's part of why he liked Colleen so much. She never took advantage of him. She just accepted him for who he was. 
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