1300/The Young & The Old

The Young & The Old
Date of Scene:	04 July 2017
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Athenaeum, Superboy

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Athenaeum has posed:
It's late evening by the time Ysabelle had finished her errands in Metropolis. And now, errand successful, the young looking woman is taking a walk through the city itself on one of her 'culture absorbing' ventures.

Dressed in a powder blue gown that covers her from throat to ankle, the silken material fitted against her form until it reaches her hips, where the cloth falls in simple lines to the floor, where black low heeled ankle boots can just be seen.

A deep hood is pulled up, hiding all but her burgandy painted lips and paper-white chin. Under her arm is a shammy leather wrapped object, the size and shape of a large book. Which she occasionally looks down at, a smile blossoming on her face.

Which is probably how the magician misses a bedraggled looking man following her into the alley. "Hey /freak/!" His voice is rough, his eyes darting left and right. But the snub nosed .36 revolver he has pointed at the woman's chest is deathly steady...

Superboy has posed:
Metropolis is no longer a city Conner visits much, but Superboy does now and then. Some good memories and some not so good ones. Also, maybe he will met Superman, a meeting he is not so eager to have but feels like should happen.

Metro being usually safer than New York, and people being generally more polite. So a âhey freakâ yell draws his attention despite his attempts to ignore all the chatter he receives through his enhanced senses. It is annoying, but he has learned to tune it out. âHey freakâ is more a NY expression, really. Maybe a New Yorker tourist. Maybe... okay, lets see.

He flies slowly into the alley and look, a genuine mugging. Up and including a handgun, and a... weirdly dressed lady. But whatever. In a flash, he lands between mugger and witch. âHey!â He greets, and then babbles on, âwho are you calling you freak? Are you a New Yorker? You sound like one. This is Metro, even muggers are kinda... well, yâknow? Still jerks, but not so much.â

Superboy has posed:
Metropolis is no longer a city Conner visits much, but Superboy does now and then. Some good memories and some not so good ones. Also, maybe he will met Superman, a meeting he is not so eager to have but feels like should happen.

Metro being usually safer than New York, and people being generally more polite. So a 'hey freak' yell draws his attention despite his attempts to ignore all the chatter he receives through his enhanced senses. It is annoying, but he has learned to tune it out. 'Hey freak' is more a NY expression, really. Maybe a New Yorker tourist. Maybe... okay, lets see.

He flies slowly into the alley and look, a genuine mugging. Up and including a handgun, and a... weirdly dressed lady. But whatever. In a flash, he lands between mugger and witch. "Hey!" He greets, and then babbles on, "who are you calling you freak? Are you a New Yorker? You sound like one. This is Metro, even muggers are kinda... well, y'know? Still jerks, but not so much."

Athenaeum has posed:
"Great, another one." The guy does back up a step, seems going from one on one to one on two wasn't in his plans. The gun shifts from the apparently defenceless woman to the new arrival. "So what if I'm a New Yorker? Doesn't change yer a freak, like that other one." A brief wave of the barrel to indicate Ysabelle.

It's not like the magician's been idle either, utilising the distraction her lips move to murmur under her breath, words that would be long dead were it not for the Arcane practitioners of the world pulls energies into alignment, resonating with the ether as a subtle hand gesture apparently does nothing.

Choosing to stay otherwise quiet, the glorified librarian waits to see how this pans out, assuming that if this new hero can fly, they can probably handle a man with a gun that will no longer fire...

Superboy has posed:
"Ah, New Yorker, I was right," announces Superboy, as if being right was something needing to be announced. "Well, look, I am Superboy, so..." he grabs the gun so quickly his hand is not even a blur, there is a crack, as the barrel is badly bent. Then he pushes the mugger, gently, telekinesis sending him flying about four yards and on his back on the floor of the alley. "You are under arrest, and all that." He spares a second to turn to Ysabelle and flash a cocky grin.

Athenaeum has posed:
The guy just lies there, trying to get his breath back whilst the young superhero does his thing. Ysabelle's eyebrows rise under the hood, though thankfully hidden from view at this precise moment. She takes a moment to reach up with her free hand, pulling back the hood to reveal bright white skin and gemlike turqoise coloured eyes. A small sapphire dangles from a silver chain to rest against her forehead.

"Thank you, your intervention was most timely." Her eyes flick past the young lad, spotting the wannabe mugger slowly trying to push himself to his knees so as to make a hasty escape. "I think your quarry is getting away though..."

Superboy has posed:
Oh yes, "they usually do, no worries," replies Superboy, easily catching up with the mugger, "dude, I would say you should have stayed in New York, but I live there now, so... just give up," he hits him on the head, again gently, but hard enough to knock him out.

Then the young man turns to Ysabelle again, pulling out a cellphone to call the Metropolis police. He has an app for it, even. "You okay, lady?" He asks the witch, "are you going to one of those renfaire places? I didn't know there was one in town right now. That is a cool dress."

Athenaeum has posed:
The young looking woman smiles and there's maternal warmth in it. "I am fine, thank you. He didn't have time to do anything more than look." What is curious, to her at least, is his lack of comment on her visage. Still, there's certain proprieties to be observed;

She gives a one handed curtsy, a brief dip of the knee, nothing more. Explaining; "I am Ysabelle, it's a pleasure to meet you Master Hero." Shifting the book to the other hand she does spare the knocked out mugger a concerned look. "I trust he'll be alright? I dare say by the look of him that desperation was a motivator here..."

Superboy has posed:
Conner takes the offered hand, but archaic courtesies are a bit beyond him. At most he has seen a few pirate movies. Hand is dropped. "I'm Superboy. Or Conner, for friends, don't do that secret identity thing much. As for that guy," he thumbs over his shoulder at the mugger. "He will be fine. If you talk with the cops he will be charged for the mugging, otherwise just for carrying a gun or something. It is not a big deal unless he has a criminal file already, in which case he deserves to be in jail, I guess." Not a lot of sympathy there.

Athenaeum has posed:
"Oh I agree he deserves punishment, I was just unsure the extent of his injuries." Ysabelle explains as the young man introduces himself. "Super...boy?" Her eyes take in the teen with a subtle look of consternation. "You seem far closer to adulthood than your moniker suggests..." It's not judgement, maybe it's meant to be flattery?

"I suppose I should wait for the police, though I do try and keep a low profile. I don't prescribe to the trend of secret identities either, but it means being more cautious about where I go in general."

Superboy has posed:
"He is not injured, I can control my strength pretty well," replies the young man. Her comment about him having outgrown the âboyâ of the 'Superboy' make him frown. Well, it is true! He is not a kid anymore (yes, he is) being 18 and able to vote. "Well, Superman is taken," he points out, "I have been Superboy for a couple years and I guess it still works for a little longer." He grins again.

Athenaeum has posed:
Ysabelle grins back in answer, neat white teeth on display briefly. "I suppose it does, and you seem to like it." She giggles then, the girlish sound seeming out of kilter with her otherwise refined demeanor. "I imagine anything with 'Super' in it is good for the self confidence anyway."

She considers a moment, before adding almost as an afterthought. "I should repay you in some way, but alas unless you like to read, all I have is material goods."

Superboy has posed:
"Blame the Planet for that," replies Conner, still smiling. "Hey, you don't have to repay me at all; I am just doing my part to keep the city safe. I like to help." Does he? Yes, he definitely likes it. If nothing else the feeling of being a hero. He is about to ask her again about the dress, but since she never responded to his renfaire question he assumes he was wrong of that she doesn't want to talk about it. "And I guess I should go on with my patrol, I am sure the cops will be here in five minutes."

Athenaeum has posed:
"A true hero hmm?" The oddly dressed woman continues to smile. "No need for recognition. Well, I'll be sure to let SHIELD know how helpful you were this evening at least, I assume that you all work together on some level?" It's meant as a compliment of course, the magician having only had friendly dealings with the agency so far. But at the same time she's laying some cards on the table, not just a helpless young woman if she knows SHIELD after all.

"And I'm sorry, you asked me if I was going to somewhere? Renfair? I'm afraid I don't know of that place, and I do travel quite extensively..." Her brow furrows slightly with consternation.

Superboy has posed:
Wait SHIELD? She doesn't look like an agent. But they again she doesn't look like a regular woman either. "No. I work alone," Superman doesn't count! "I just moved back to the East Coast from Hawaii. I had some plans," he shrugs. He had no plans, just whims. "And that is for Renaissance Fair. It is a place where people reenact living in past centuries, with crafts, and dresses and junk. They are fun for an evening." Beat. "What is up with SHIELD? Are you a secret agent?"

Athenaeum has posed:
"Secret agent?" Ysabelle asks quietly, then shakes her head with another soft laugh. "No no, I'm a consultant. On arcanum and the like. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend. Is it not safer for you to fight crime and the like with a group?" She pauses, then holds up a hand with another shake of her head. "No, actually, that's a silly question really. I am just as guilty for wanting my privacy."

Superboy has posed:
Conner shrugs. "There are a few groups out there, I dunno," he has not been invited to any, unless you count the 'super family' non-group, and he doesn't get much of them either. It is awkward. "Besides, I am a Kryptonian, anyway, we can handle almost anything." Not over-confident or anything. He is also hearing the cops coming. Ysabelle will a few seconds later. "And I really should go on with my... well, back to New York. Nice to meet you, lady." He takes off and winks an eye, flying away quickly.