10855/A Jack-And-Fae Combo

A Jack-And-Fae Combo
Date of Scene:	24 January 2020
Location:	The Pork-Chop Express, NY
Synopsis:	Jack brings Faora back to his rolling home, The Pork-Chop Express, and chat and drink together.
Cast of Characters:	Jack Burton, Superwoman

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Jack Burton has posed:
Jack feels kinda odd. He's walking with a strange woman back to his truck. This has happened before. But the lady in question is stranger than most. She can fly, and she's bulletproof. And that's just the stuff he saw.
Well, she did save his ass, so that counts for a lot in his book, even if some of the pages of said book look like they're written in crayon.
Her name is Fae, and she's not like any woman he's ever met. So maybe he oughtta avoid putting his foot in his mouth.

"Well, Fae...I gotta ask. How did you know I was in big trouble in Little China?"

Superwoman has posed:
"I heard screams. Voices filled with alarm," Faora replies matter-of-factly. "I knew someone needed help, so I came." She turns to look appraising at Jack. "And why were you in big trouble in little China? Most people don't seem to meddle in the affairs of others, unless it benefits them. Your friend?"

Jack Burton has posed:
Jack nodded as he strolled along the sidewalk, not seeming to notice the odd looks they were getting. "Yep. My friend, Wang. His niece was one of those women in the cages. I didn't even know it was this big operation, but once I was in it...I was IN it, you know? Who walks away from something like that with his soul intact?"

Superwoman has posed:
"So you are not a typical man," Faora surmises thoughtfully as they continue onward. "Getting into trouble was, in this instance, the noble thing to do." It is more of a musing than an informative comment. "And you were prepared to trade your life for the freedom of those women?"

Jack Burton has posed:
Jack smiled wryly. "I've survived worse. I've gone up against Chinese black magic, orangutan-demons, Triad goons, and an ex-wife out for my blood. And I'm still here."
They turn a corner towards a side street and Jack smiles. "And there she is. My home, source of income, and localized earthquake on Goodyear rubber. Faora...this is THE PORK-CHOP EXPRESS."

It is fairly massive, a 1985 Freightliner FCL-120 "long-nose" truck. The image of a running boar under the name spray-painted on the side is also joined by two rectangles under it, like kill stickers from World War 2 fighter planes. One looks like a scraggly humanoid with long claws, and another is a man in a robe with what looks like a knife through his head.
"She's got a rebuilt V-12 engine, with armor inserts, bulletproof plexiglass windows, and a ram-plate for dealing with obstacles."

Superwoman has posed:
To Faora, the truck looks meager and weak. However, compared to most vehicles, it does seem to have an air of toughness about it. She furrows her brow. "Your home?"

Jack Burton has posed:
Jack nods. "Yep. The big box section in the back is the 'sleeper' section. Y'know, where you go when you're not flying around doing the hero thing and want to relax." He stepped up to the driver's-side door, opening it up for Faora. "Climb on in, you'll see what I mean."

Superwoman has posed:
Ted Bundy would have loved Faora, as she obligingly follows Jack up to, and inside, the truck. He didn't even have to offer her candy, or a puppy. "Do women always just follow you into your truck home, to see what you mean?"

Jack Burton has posed:
Jack chuckled as she climbed in. "I JUST watched you shrug off BULLETS not thirty minutes ago. If you didn't want me ta do something to you, I'll lay odds I wouldn't be able to, Fae."

The compartment behind the two high-back seats is surprisingly spacious. There is a mattress along the back of the compartment, with shelving containing food, jugs of water, a microwave, a TV, a swing-out arm with a laptop computer bolted to it, and a fold-out table for eating while reclining on the bed. No sink or bathroom, but rest stops are plentiful on the road. One drawer holds plastic cutlery and paper plates.
There are a couple of pictures on the wall. One is of Jack with many Chinese men and women. It is dated four months ago, and has signatures under each face. In the corner, it reads, "Always welcome in Chinatown, Wang Chi, Golden Dragon Restaurant." The other picture is of the Golden Gate Bridge, with the sea in the background.

Superwoman has posed:
Faora looks at Jack oddly as he shows her around. "But that does not answer my question." The thought of him doing something to /her/ never crossed her mind. "I asked if women follow you in." Maybe there is a bit of the curiosity that killed the Kryptonian in there somewhere. Or maimed the Kryptonian, maybe. Okay...the curiosity that seriously threatened the Kryptonian with no hope whatsoever of following through on empty threats.

Jack Burton has posed:
Jack thinks for a moment. "Maybe if I'm being exceptionally suave. Which happens a lot. Sometimes, it's just curiosity, as in 'Can someone actually live in one of these?'"
He gets in on the driver's side, turning the entire seat to face her. "Curiosity I don't mind. It's part of my charm."

Superwoman has posed:
Faora looks around the tiny home on wheels, then focuses her gaze on Jack. "Is this something you have been told, or is it something that you have deduced? That it is part of your charm, I mean." She seems intent on completing her evaluation of Jack Burton. "I feel there is much here that I do not understand." She looks back around her. Is it a house? Is it a truck? Who knows? "I long to understand."

Jack Burton has posed:
Jack smiled a little. "Well, I think it is safe to think so. I haven't seen any evidence to the contrary, if that is what you're asking." He paused, then said, "This is home for me. I'm lucky enough to take it wherever I go. Where's home for you, Fae? If you don't mind me calling you Fae, that is." He's already said it a few times, but better late than never, right?

Superwoman has posed:
"I have...living quarters. They serve their purpose," Far offers before changing the subject. "Do you simply drive this vehicle from one place to the next as a means of living between your missions of crime fighting? What are your powers? Do you have a name by which you are called? Like Lord of Justice? Truck Man?"

Pause.

Pause.

"King of the Road?"

Jack Burton has posed:
Jack chuckles. "I use this truck to haul cargo from place to place. After a...recent enterprise, I decided to pull up stakes and work in New York State, delivering here and in the New England area. My call sign on the road is The Pork-Chop Express. Used to haul refrigerated beef and pork from farms to market. Now I handle any load they pay well for." He sits back in his chair. "I don't have powers like being able to fly or stuff like that. Although there was one time...but that was a special case. For a short amount of time, I could see things no one else can see, do things no one else could do. But those faded, like they do for guys like me. I'm okay with that." He reaches into a cooler in one of the shelves and takes out a bottle of Ki-Rin beer. "Want a drink? This Chinese beer Wang suggested is pretty good. Do you drink beer?"

Superwoman has posed:
Faora's still rather stiff. Tense, maybe. Socially awkward. She turns slightly, her gaze flitting down to the beer in his hand. "I...I don't think I have ever had a 'beer,' she replies. "It looks serious. Is it serious?"

Jack Burton has posed:
Jack handed Faora the bottle. "It is a moderate alcoholic beverage, meant to intoxicate. And this particular version is very, very good at that." He takes out another bottle and uncaps it. "What kind of powers do *you* have? Trying to get a handle on what you got under the hood." He eyes the armor. "That getup makes you look pret-ty intimidating."

Superwoman has posed:
Faora shrugs. "How much time do you have?" she says in response to his question. It was a phrase she heard once and misunderstood. It was explained to her that it was not a question to be answered in hours and minutes. It was, in fact, something called a 'rhetorical question.'

"Most of my senses are greatly enhanced, compared to yours. As is my strength. My breath. My laser vision, I can only assume, is stronger than yours as well." Maybe it is sarcasm?

Jack Burton has posed:
Jack blinks. "Laser-vision, hunh? Well...yeah, the most I can do in that department is an intimidating look. Although it CAN be pretty intimidating." He takes a swig of his beer, smiling wryly. "So, you're one of those whole-package superheroines. That's impressive. You got one of those code names? Like Spider-Man, Wonder Woman..." He pauses, as if pondering what particular "wonder" she is famous for. "...something like that. You've got SOME kind of symbol, but I was only able to see it if I looked up close."

Superwoman has posed:
Faora ponders for a moment, mulling the idea over before responding. "There are many who have called me Superwoman. I believe it is an inference to the similarity of my powers to those of Superman. But it has, in fact, stuck. So to speak. So much so that if someone within my range of hearing calls it out in a time of need, I respond to it."

Jack Burton has posed:
Jack raises his beer bottle. "Well, there ya go. He kinda wears the red and blue colors though. Is black your color? It goes with your hair, but like I said, it does tend to send its own message. Namely, 'Don't screw with me.'"

Superwoman has posed:
"I had not considered it," Faora replies with a serious expression. "Perhaps his colors give the wrong impression. They are the colors associated with law enforcement. The lights on vehicles. I enforce laws, as well. But I have no association with their organization. Nor do I desire it. And I very much dislike the idea of anyone screwing with me, as you put it. A part of your charm?"

Jack Burton has posed:
Jack shrugs. "Well, to each their own." He took off the wool jacket, revealing the thin t-shirt with the Chinese picture of the red sphere behind the man with the yin-yang symbol on it. He looked down and up to Faora again. "Not my costume. Just my lucky shirt." He takes another swig. "Listen...I dunno how far you are from wherever you hang your armor, but if you want to bed down, you can take the bed and I'll just sleep in the driver's seat. You can pull that curtain for privacy." He points to the maroon curtain currently pushed to one side. "...if you think that beer's going to affect you in some way."

Superwoman has posed:
Faora looks down at the beer in her hand, having seemingly forgotten it for a moment. She lifts the bottle and takes a drink, then lowers it again, shaking her head. "It is unlikely that anything moderate here would ever affect me. I would not, however, desire to put a good man out of his bed. If you need rest, then rest. But given recent events, I will stay to be sure that your big trouble does not find you and catch you unaware while you sleep."

Jack Burton has posed:
Jack shrugs. "Lady's choice. The shotgun seat..." He points to the passenger seat. "...is good for a vantage point should you want it. In case you didn't know, it's called that because the guy...or girl...sitting next to the driver carried a shotgun for home defense while on the road. No one uses it for that reason much these days, but the name sticks." He begins unlacing his boots. "NO one should bug us here. I got a long-term permit here because I brought in a load this morning." He slides off his boots, then crawls over to the bed, hanging up his baseball cap and lays back on the mattress. "If you gotta go because of...well, heroing stuff...just make sure the doors are locked as you leave." He pulls the sheet over himself, then looks back to Faora. "Anything you're curious about before I catch some Z's?"

Superwoman has posed:
Without hesitation, Faora replies, "Why did you bring me back here instead of waiting for me to fly away as everyone else does?"

Jack Burton has posed:
Jack looked at her as he lay on his side. "Because I wanted to talk to you. You got me out of a tight spot. I don't forget things like that. And you kinda looked like you needed more than the 'here's your hat, what's your hurry' treatment you say you always get. You forget what makes you human..."
He yawned.
"...ya wanna rule the universe from beyond the grave or something like that..."

Superwoman has posed:
"Ahh." Jack's answer seems to have sated Faora's curiosity for now. "Rest. I'll be here when you wake," she says simply, and she takes her seat at shotgun. "Rest well."

Jack Burton has posed:
Jack hmms and drifts off to sleep, leaving Faora by herself in the cab. There are a few souvenirs around the front area that are personal to the driver. A souvenir shot glass from Las Vegas. A Sioux dreamcatcher.

...and, more ominous, a rawhide thong with twelve teeth hanging from it. The teeth look like three-inch fangs, and do not look human by any stretch of the imagination.