10863/Nighttime run-ins

Nighttime run-ins
Date of Scene:	25 January 2020
Location:	Midtown, Manhattan
Synopsis:	Bean learns several things in the Midtown Night
Cast of Characters:	Phantasm (Drago), Samuel Morgan

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Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
As the sun finally sets, casting a dreary mood upon the midtown area, offeset by the lights of the streetlamps and various commerical properties still open to make the most of the consumer population, the area around Claridge's is a tad quieter. An older building from the 20s, the former hotel, now rennovated into a mix of various residential types has a bit of a peaceful charm amongst the chaos of mid-town. The white gloved doorman is bundled up nicely for the temperatures as he stays warm close to the entry way.

Heading down the street, towards the building, two men walk. One, a blonde man in his early 30s, dressed in some higher end jeans and a designer blue tee and jacket. Hands shoved into his pockets, the slightly stubbly man walks alongside another man.

The other, a very familiar knit capped rocker with a tired expression that seems to be becoming the norm for his look. He too has his hands in his pockets and while it appears he is trying to listen to the other guy, there's a look about him that screams distracted.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    The city, famously, never sleeps. Some of it must sleep at some point, clearly, but like a dolphin, or a killer whale, not all of it is ever asleep at the same time. And much like the Orca, what may look peaceful is actually watching you, just waiting for you to get careless. Visitors, tourists, they never imagine being watched or stalked, like unwitting cattle herded by the distant wolf.

    Not all wolves howl at the moon. And yet what looks peaceful may, in fact, be watching. The unwary never know, and the wary never stop looking over their shoulder.

    But often they look in the wrong place. They're looking for the wolf, not the cattle. And who would imagine that the teenager in the comfortable hoodie, looking very much like he's minding his own business, is in fact stalking prey? Bean falls into that strange category; a visitor that acts very much like a native. And he's heading in the opposite direction, on a path that must necessarily intersect with that knit-capped rocker. Just him today, no friendly canine dogging his heels.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
"So, have you given it any more thought?" The blonde looks over towards the darkered haired companion, giving a slight frown, "Nick?"

"Huh?" The younger man looks over, "Sorry Wade. Uh. What more thought?"

Wade stops, turning and stepping in front of Nick just a few steps away from Claridge's. He frowns looking to the stopped performer, "That offer. They're not going to wait forever, you know."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    Has Bean spotted Nick? You bet. Does he swerve to avoid a meeting? Absolutely not. There's an advantage in being seen to talk to other locals, and right now the teenager has to assume he's being watched. He has, after all, not exactly been subtle.

    "Hey Nick! I'm pretty sure New York keeps getting smaller." the greeting is affable, and delivered with his usual smile. The one that his eyes always refuse to participate in. The man with him gets a quick glance, quick enough to look casual, long enough to determine his threat level, if any.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Hearing Nick's name called, Wade breaks his glance, turning slightly to look towards Bean curiously.

The bleary eyed rocker gives a small smile, taking a few side steps to better see the student. "Oh hey Bean." Nick greets, enjoying the change of topic. "Well, Midtown's got a good chance of running into me. I live around here."

Wade clears his throat. Looking towards Nick.

"Right. Bean, meet Wade. Wade, meet Bean."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Sam Morgan." Bean introduces himself, leaving out his middle name for ease of introduction and for lack of desire to explain it, offering a hand to Wade. "My friends have short memories and even worse ability to recognise faces. They already knew a Sam, so now I'm Bean."

    "I didn't know you lived around here. Otherwise I'd have gone the long way around." he jests. Surely he jests? He's smiling, at least, all the way until there's a buzz from his phone. With a gesture to request pardon, he pulls the phone out of a pocket and checks the message. His face grows dark for a moment. Very, very dark.

    And a few moments later, his expression is quite cheerful again, putting the phone away, although the sharp eyed might see a message composing itself on the screen. "Can't leave a kid in peace for five minutes."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
"Wade Shaw." Wade offers in kind as he takes the offered hand to give it a shake, "I've known Nick since Silver Round." He leans forward, lowering his voice for only Bean to hear, "And as he was the youngest, we would call him little drummer boy."

He gives a chuckle and nudges an elbow into Nick as Bean makes the comment at his roommate's expense.

When Bean's back is turned, Nick jabs an elbow into Wade's gut, causing for the elder man to give a bit of an oof in response. When Bean turns around, they look pretty composed. Albeit, one looks like he's about to pass out and the other is still catching his breath.

"So, Bear's day off?" Nick asks.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    It's a logical question, and to be honest, after last night Bear probably earned a nice day off. So Bean tries to spin the answer as neutral as possible. "He's being spoiled by a friend, can't ask him to be on duty all the time, right?" And, in truth, he shouldn't be out without the German Shepherd. But the service dog made him very conspicuous, and if he does get made and ends up having to enact violence, he doesn't want to get his furry friend involved.

    "Wade Shaw? You must be the mysterious manager then. A pleasure to meet you."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Wade arcs an eyebrow, looking to Nick. "Manager..." He pauses, before shrugging his shoulders, "Okay, I guess you could say that. I do manage his music bookings and coordinate with the agency that screens the acting offers." He gives a pointed look towards Nick, "Wouldn't want him missing out on a good offer when it's flat out slapping him in the face."

Nick gives Wade the side eye, "It's still 'No'.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Some offers are too good to be true." Says the teenager who looks like he walked out of any of half a dozen less desirable Manhattan neighborhoods. As much care as Bean normally takes in his appearance, today he looks decidedly plain, and seemingly making an attempt at fitting in. Which would, of course, only be noticeable to people who already know him.

    "But, you know, someone has to look after artists." And has to know. "I hope I didn't offend calling you manager?"

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
"Not you," Wade assures, glancing to Nick. Pausing. "You know what?" The studio founder shakes his head, "I'm going to just head on in and let you two talk." Shaking his head, The blonde gives a curt nod to Sam before heading towards the door of the refomulated hotel, the doorman scurrying to get him the door.

"...Wade Shaw. Ladies and Gents." Nick comments, shaking his head before looking to Sam, "Don't mind him. He means well. But we've known each other for a long time. Disagreements are going to happen."

Nick, being in his tired state doesn't really notice much.. "He'll give in eventually." Or Nick will. But that's not stated as the musican brings a hand up to rub the side of his temple. "So, It's been a long week. How about you?"

Off across the street from the sidewalk they're on, a few alleyways down, there is the slightest of movement.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    The curt nod is responded to with a more drawn out, more respectful one, as well as a friendly smile. "Was a pleasure meeting you, Mister Shaw." And from the next comment, the teenager jumps to a conclusion, possibly the wrong one, from a standing start. It's the slight turn back to Nick that causes him to spot the movement, and his training that forces him not to look at it directly, but observe it as his vision is passing across the front of the hotel and so see what's lurking through the reflection in a window. All of this happens in just a moment, and he goes on in a conversational tone, smiling.

    "I've been okay aside from a slight disagreement with some gentlemen trying to pull a heist at a charity event I was at. And you're smarter than to look around while I'm telling you this, or so I hope, so be aware that you're being followed. Got a few projects I'm working on, so my guitar work has suffered a bit."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Unfortunately, while Samuel is looking for a nearby reflection for confirmation he doesn't find one. According to the windows, there is nothing there.

Nick listens quietly as Sam starts to talk giving a nod at the mention of the charity event but as the discussion starts to make an odd turn, the brow furrows as Nick's frown has a hint of surprise to it, "What?" The hand in his pocket clenches, digging a nail into the palm of his hand in order to suppress the need to turn around. He closes his eyes for a moment, shaking his head. "Uh. Projects tend to do that. Nothing but misery."

A cat wanders out of the alleyway, walking in the opposite direction of the two guys.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    Movement in the alleyway. Bean is certain of himself, not given to doubting his senses like some people. So when he sees no reflection, that adds to the information available rather than confirm an all clear. He did, after all, remember the vampire conversation he overheard before. In fact, he can easily recall practically everything he's ever heard, seen or read. All of these things are desirable traits in spies and assassins.

    "Some projects are alright, others can suck the life right out of you. Drive you /bat/shit insane. But I'll tell you, I could have done without seeing the red mist for a while longer."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
As Bean lays the word play on motor oil thickness level, Nick's glance, while directed towards Sam, seems more focused on a point behind him. There's a slight twitch to his face before he glances the way Wade went. "Did he get another one?"

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    They're just two guys chatting. Nothing strange about that. Bean's eyes wander from time to time, as is utterly normal, except in this case he's checking angles, even as he continues to talk. "Shame you weren't at the opening yesterday, you'd have loved it. Retro cinema, 1920's style. They were going to show Chaplin until the ragged man showed up himself, along with all the other greats. Shame they wanted to kidnap the owner and steal the income from the charity."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Bean's attempts to spot the source of the movement is for naught as the only form of movment is fromcat that came out of the alleyway. It has opted instead to stop half a block down to perform some personal grooming.

... Because it can.

Nick turns his head to look back to Bean, brow arching, "This sounds like it should be a long story. Why don't we go inside?"

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Yes, let's." Bean agrees, motioning for Nick to lead the way, despite having seen where Wade has gone. This, incidentally, also allows him to turn his torso slightly to make the motion look natural, and thereby bring the street directly behind him into his peripheral vision.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Despite Bean's attempts to see more there still isn't a sign of anyone out there. Save for the doorman who steps from the shelter of the building to greet the two.

"Evening, Mr. Drago." The doorman greets, holding the door open for Nick and the perceived guest.

"Evening Charles." Nick replies, giving a nod before leading Samuel in, pausing between Pez's apartment and the condo Wade shares with him. He pinches the bridge of his nose, giving a grumble. "Ok, so... Silent film stars came from the grave to try and kidnap a theater owner to get ahold of some charity money?"

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    Again, there is the polite nod from Bean, who seems remarkably well mannered for his age. But as he walks, he clasps his hands behind his back, his steps precisely measured as if he's on a parade ground.

    "The charity was in favor of a run down neighborhood in Mutant Town. As you can imagine, a lot of people might want to derail it, and the benefactor was particularly generous." He'd been mulling over the why most of the day, once his head was clear enough to think again. "Criminals dressed up as silent movie actors, especially comedians, and crashed the reception just before the showing of the Chaplin movie, when the benefactor was planning to show a tribute short his own son had made. I'm thinking they weren't just after the money, because two of them tried to kidnap him."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Nick opts to sieze on the topic, distracting himself from the issue that is apparently outside "So maybe an intimidation tactic?" He wonders aloud. He shakes his head, this news, not pleasant at all to him considering his own efforts to help out with charities.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "I'm thinking they were eyeing a bigger prize than just the charity money." Bean concludes, as if he rehearsed this part for an after action report. He probably has, at that. "Without the money, without a benefactor, and with the benefactor taken as a warning, that area of Mutant Town would pretty much be derelict in a matter of months. It might not be the fanciest real estate, but we're still talking a whole New York block."

    But as he's giving his debrief, Bean also looks at Nick. And he's astute enough an observer of body language to know that the man is done. "You look like you could use some tea. And given that I'm a polite teenager, I won't refuse a cup."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Nick gives a small smile, nodding to his door. "Sure. Come on in." He walks over, not even pulling out his key as he turns the knob, opening it. Sure enough, Wade is inside, seated at the desk, working at his laptop.

"Bean's got the sofa." Nick declares, "I'm making tea. Want any?"

"Alright." Wade murmurs, not even looking away from his laptop.

Shrugging, the musician puts the kettle on before turning to the cabinet to retrieve a box.

There's a clatter as an orange medicine bottle falls out, smacking into the counter. Blearily, the drummer shoves to bottle back up into the cabinet. "Tea will be ready in a bit. Go and get comfortable."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    The mind boggles. At least, Bean's mind boggles that the door, in New York, is not locked. He cannot conceive of a mind that would run such risks, imagine someone not only being so casual about their own safety, but not even looking up to see who's coming in. For just a second, he debates giving the man a lecture, but... it wouldn't be in character. Still, he wouldn't be himself if he didn't at least make some kind of comment. "Wow, wish I could keep my door unlocked. Thanks for letting me crash, I won't take up much space."

    So many small clues to pick up on, not the least being the bottle that just fell out of the cupboard, kept casually with the tea rather than a secure cabinet... or at least in the bathroom, as is customary. Nothing about this place is entirely as he's known anything before... not the tight confines of a barracks room, nor the space and understated opulence of the Xavier school. Although, in its favor, it also resembles in nothing the reinforced concrete cell he called home for at least a few years. And so, trying to come to terms with his new temporary surroundings, he seats himself on the sofa, smile looking less and less confident as time passes.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
"Nick was right behind me," Wade dismisses, still looking to the laptop, "Also our neighbor's a cop. Now that you're in, lock it up."

Click! Click! Click! Rattle! Smack!

Door secured, Nick turns back towards the kitchen. He pauses. "Hey Bean, could you come here a sec? I forgot something."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Sure thing."

    Clearly there's no point in talking security with this man. So Bean stands, heading over to Nick while mulling over the many ways that the statement 'Our neighbor's a cop' is not the security measure Wade clearly thinks it is... in his assessment, Bean would even class that as a vulnerability. By now he has taken in the essence of the space, the layout, the angles, the ways in and out. He immediately resolves not to mention these to the residents... there's no need to alarm them. "What's up?"

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Nick tugs three mugs off a mug tree as Samuel walks around the bathroom area into the kitchen. Setting the mugs down, concerned eyes assess Bean. "Are you going to be ok here without Bear?" He asks, keeping his volume low so the currently distracted exec doesn't overhear. I know sleep can have problems."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    The question all but confirms a suspicion Bean's been having about Nick, although he's still not treating it as proof positive. And while most people would be tempted to simply give a dismissal, he genuinely considers the question. "I... managed without Bear for years, but... you know how it is when you get used to something." His voice is kept in that undertone reserved for conspiracies and surprise parties. "Tell you the truth, I wasn't planning on sleeping at all. Figured I'd take the opportunity to sit watch until sunrise."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Nick's brow raises, "Really? No sleep?" His expression seems a bit uncertain about that plan, "Are you sure?"

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "It's that or wake you both up with a scream at around three in the morning." Bean admits, leaning nonchalantly against the counter. "Just... wish I could sleep like I did last week."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
The expression on the musician's face relaxes a bit at the last portion of the statement. Ah.

...AH. Well, that resolves one thing at least.

Giving a slight smirk as he bends down slightly, Nick lifts up his hands, placing them together in prayer formation, "In that case." He whispers, "You know how this goes."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    Aaaaaand, proof positive. Now Bean absolutely can't deny facts, and mentally connects all the dots. Right then. "Thank you." Although a whisper, it carries the full weight of his emotional range. And although limited, it does have scope for the expression of gratitude.