1379/Close Encounters of the Bird Kind

Close Encounters of the Bird Kind
Date of Scene:	10 July 2017
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Deadpool, Vorpal, Kian and Mikh walk into the park. Don't ask. It just gets weird.
Cast of Characters:	StarDrake, Kian t'Kaeh, 87, Deadpool

---

StarDrake has posed:
New York City at night from space. Mikh Drakos has seen it from a half dozen different universes. He's docked at The Peak, delivered his message packet, and has slipped off for "shore leave" even though he's not technically supposed to do that. Whatever. He's picked up bad habits from Rocket and Quill. This isn't //his// Earth, because the universe is far too small, but it's //an// Earth and he is suffering from an excess of nostalgia as he slides down from orbit. He's not even leaving a heat trail; the drive unit in his combat-armor body lets him take the kinetic potential and turn it into stored power.

Several things look entirely wrong, as he drifts down. The land masses are approximately right, there's Miss Liberty by the Jersey Shore, assuming that's actually New Jersey. Central Park exists. Radar exists, but his cloaking device hides from it, and he's got no thermal signature either. Traffic control uses the same signals he's used to from maybe 30 years ago, and he avoids the paths of any planes. There's a Four Freedoms ... or whatever it's called in this version of reality. And ... Hmm. There's a big party in Central Park. Let's go for Bryant Park instead.

A three meter tall humanoid figure alights on the grass of Bryant park. It's truly jet-black, reflecting no light whatsoever, and it's generally shaped like a rather tall person wearing some form of "space armor" with a full-face screen. What might be a weapon hilt sticks to the back. It remains motionless for the moment. Mikh is running scans.

Kian t'Kaeh has posed:
    Kian is, slightly petulantly, perched on the back of a bench. he wouldn't want to interfere with conversation, of course. He's petulant, not rude. There's a difference. (/I can't even think of the last time I lost my temper like that./) He squeezes Vorpal's shoulder. (/I didn't even think what I was doing. And yet, you tell me that was the *right* thing to do. That's going to take me a while to understand./)

Vorpal (87) has posed:
"Well," the cheshire cat says to Kian, "It's part of what we do. The Young Avengers I was telling you about... we're really like a group that helps keep law and order, but we're there to help when people with extraordinary abilities use them for wrong, and against other people. Does that make sense? So what you did there? You saved a lot of people's lives. And you're really very good at it, so... you're not from around here, I can tell of because of the mind meld thing and the fact that you have wings and you're obviously no slave to Earth fashions. I'm gessing you're still doing the culture shock thing and you probably need a permanent place as well as people to help you. We can be that for you, and you can help a lot of people. What do you think?"

The cheshire cat is going for the full sale here.

StarDrake has posed:
Mikh is doing that thing where he has created four copies of his mind, running on different dedicated processing units, because he's doing four things that would take up his full attention. Thing One, scanning and integrating the radio communications -- and other carriers if he finds them -- so that he can figure out protocols. Sure, they're all simple and straightforward. Thing A is scanning for psionic and life-energy signs, and that energy signature that some people call 'magic' ... and of course there's plenty of that in Manhattan. If that's what it's called. Thing (i) is collating the information from the database on the Peak against what Quill's cultural info suggested so he can see how badly inappropriate it will be when he tries to make jokes. Yes, this is important enough to use an entire mind-copy. Humor is important when you want people to think you are not just another robot. And Thing Prime, the initial instance, is doing Overwatch. Not the game, he's scanning the environs and fitting things in from the other three until he's got a functional image of what's happening.

There are two approximate humanoids nearby, one of them reeking with thaumatons, the other one psionic out the wazoo and ... oh joy, it's a telepath. Replay and parse the psi brodcast, if possible... check. Good thing the receiver is still functional after that fight last week. Engaging surface thoughts mode.

The giant jet-black figure's surface thoughts: /Huh. They're speaking English, or close enough. The translator hasn't kicked online./

And that is probably going to be audible to the bird-man. Meanwhile, though, he's withdrawing the lampDark layer from his dermis and is being revealed as an approximately metallic figure who looks like Crysis nanoarmor had a child with the Spartan armors from Halo. Also the chestplate has a number designation in Interlac: "N-18" (because 17 is jailbait.)

Deadpool has posed:
The receiver was still functional, because who knows what it'll make of the merc with a mouth. Dressed in beige white camouflage pants, with darker brown accents, a black belt, and shirtless, though wearing a mask and a harness for his dual katanas, Deadpool seems to be wearing an open Hawaiian shirt. It's yellow and green with a tropical fruit motif. And oh yeah, he's about four stories in the air, having materialised there after a mistimed teleport. With a lay around his neck, and a glass with a little umbrella in it, he screams as he materialises, suddenly falling, "aiiieeeeee." Fortunately, the grass cushions his fall. It breaks a few bones, but they'll set soon enough. In fact, he does amazingly well to keep his glass nearly full, and the little umbrella still in there. "Oh, phew, I thought I'd lost you." Then, looking through his mask, he blinked at the others, "oh, hello, is this not the Simonson's Engagement Party?"

Kian t'Kaeh has posed:
    (/It almost make sense/,) Kian replies. (/As much as anything else on this world does, and that's not much. I am always happy to help... I just don't like the idea of maybe having to hurt someone to do that./)
    And then Kian looks up sharply, as if trying to spot something. (/There's another mind out here/,) he 'sends, his hand tightening on Vorpal's shoulder. (/I don't know where/.)
    The... arrival... of the newcomer, strangely enough, doesn't scare the birdman into panicked flight. (/And that is not the mind I sensed/,) is all he's able to send to Vorpal, staring with very wide eyes.

Vorpal (87) has posed:
"Well, if you don't help, other people might get hurt by the-" And the Cheshire cat loses his train of thought. Fortunately enough, there were no important passengers on board. The arrival has him flummoxed and he stands up, preparing for any potential confrontation.

"Who the heck are you, and where the heck did you come from?" the man just dropped from the sky.

Which is annoying to be honest. This is not the time for it to be raining men.

StarDrake has posed:
Thing (i) -- the robot man's cultural reference mind -- begins playing music, which is coming from behind and slightly above the bird. He has a soundtrack: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l5aZJBLAu1E ... Because of course he does. At the same time Thing A informs the rest of himself that there's an incoming tachyon wave which signature means ... either Cable or Deadpool has already teleported in. Too close to the landing point, the warning arrives well AFTER the event because why would faster-than-light want to work sensibly. Thing Prime says internally, "end fork all of you" and four minds collapses down into a single mind.

"Deadpool?" he says. "Oh good, there really IS one in every universe."

Mikh shakes his head, slightly because he's huge at the moment. "Why did I ever think I could just visit and not run into wierdness? And why am I using my outside voice? Darnit A."

Deadpool has posed:
"There used to be one in every universe, but Deadpool-295, Deadpool-626, and Deadpool-9809, left their native universes. I think 295 is hanging out in the universe where everyone looks like Jennifer Lawrence, I forget the name of that one, or else I'd be there myself right now, and the other two are doing the buddy cop thing with Deadpool-97161 on his Earth." Getting up from his position in the mud, he resists the urge to make fun of the raining men song blaring, it's just too easy. "Darnit eh? Oh, you're a Canadian," and he immediately goes to hug Mikh, wrapping his arms around him, "welcome to the United States, here's some crack and a handgun." And he pulls out a handgun and vial of some white stuff.

Kian t'Kaeh has posed:
    It is probably a very good thing indeed that Kian doesn't speak English yet, or he would be a receding speck in the sky right now. He tightens his grip on Vorpal's shoulder -- who would have thought even a week or two ago that he would be relying on a feline for stability? -- and urgently thinks, (/What in the name of all the Gods is happening?/) His wings are spread, as if ready to take to the air. (/Is this one of the people using his extraordinary abilities wrong? Or does he just need help?/) He blinks at the scenario again. (/Or do you not see this and I'm taking leave of my senses?/)

StarDrake has posed:
"Really?" Mikh says, allowing the hug and possibly returning it slightly. Really, first actual hug from a human in 11.42 years and it's from Deadpool. The Lord appears to be teasing him. "I'm from 627 myself, if you're using that scalar. It's gone unreachable. Thanks for the gun and the coke."

The gun slides through the air to tap against Mikh's right wrist where the metal plating unfolds and a sudden flurry of mechanical operations incorporate it into the forearm. Meanwhile the vial of white powder is fitted into a series of vials in a device that unfolds from the warbot chest-frame. Because there are uses for alkaloids like that one. Also, he can analyze it to make sure it really IS what Pool said it was.

"Just between us?" the robot says in a low voice, "I'm from a version of the USA, but my current team has the most foul-mouthed trash panda in the universe onboard, so I have my PG filters turned on so people won't mistake me for him. Also, even if I can't get to 627 my Mom would find a way to reach across universes and slap me on the back of the head if I were to use idle profanity. She's a priest."

The frantic 'pathing of the Birdman... familiar looking format, but not Shiar unless he's a distant cousin or a throwback. None of the races he's seen before match, not even Dawnstar's people... anyway Mikh smiles at the Birdman reassuringly. Which is to say, his faceplate lights up with a friendly smiley-face, although that's possibly not going to help. The surface-thought projection of friendliness is there. He'd project harmlessness but really that would be an outright lie in this body.

The magic-smelling cat person may or may not be in shock, from what Mikh can tell. Oh, and ... why is that music still playing? Oh, A was looking up music to take back to Quill. Right. OK, disconnect it from the speakers. The song fades. Soundtrack attracts too much attention and who knows how voracious the copyright lawyers are on this version of Earth.

Vorpal (87) has posed:
And for once, the Cheshire cat is coompletely speechless. He stares from Deadpool to Mikh and back, and then finally back at Kian.

"I honestly mean it when I say that I absolutely have no idea what the hell is going on," He says to Kian, "And I am rather upset thhat I'm not the cause of it."

The cat looks between Deadool ad the ... the robot-thing.

"Are you two the galactic version of Laurel and Hardy and just decided to drop in for an encore? We're trying to have a conversation here!" he says, keeping his hand on Kian's shoulder so he knows what he's saying.

Of course, Kian has no way of knowing what THEY'RE saying.

Note to self. Young Avengers' first initiative: Enroll the bird in some nightschool ESL classes.

Kian t'Kaeh has posed:
    Kian stares at Vorpal. (/If this is weird for *you*.../) he 'sends, but can't really comlete the thought. Take it as read that it's off the charts for the birdman.
    Partly on a whim, partly in desperation, mostly because it's the only other active mind he's sensed since coming to this ridiculous world, he casts his mind out in greeting. He caught the 'friendliness' part, and that helps. (/Peace and greetings/?) Technically, that shouldn't have been a question, but Kian just doesn't know anymore.

StarDrake has posed:
Well this isn't awkward AT ALL. Mikh would move except Deadpool is still somewhat entangled, having gone off to whatever interior dialogues he goes to. Honestly, it happened the first time Mikh met one of the Deadpools as well. The guy was wearing one of Kitty's old outfits, and started treating him like a climbing tree. And at the time he was back in the original chassis with the automobile-engine motive system.

"Peace and greetings to you too," Mikh answers. "I have a telepathic plug for short range space communications, so I can hear and speak with you. I'm not allowed to make them for other people, sorry. Future tech. Might cause problems if I let other people have it here."

He says nothing at all about Laurel or Hardy, other than to note that the reference indicates that the cat is possibly a bit of a film nerd in this timeframe, if the database of current popular slang that he downloaded is accurate. And it probably is.

Vorpal (87) has posed:
The cheshire cat frowns, "You said you were from a version of the USA... you're ..." he pauses. "You're a time traveler?" because that was the peak of crazy. He's seen all sorts of things- electric ghosts, snake men, magic... but time travel? That would be a new one. As always, his hand is on Kian. But then he adds "Wait, you can talk to my friend without touching him?... high tech..." An idea starts brewing. "... you wouldn't happen to have access to... you know. Universal translators?" He knows they're a thing because the Thundercats had them, but it was set to Thunderian.

Kian t'Kaeh has posed:
    (/Translator? No, he's another telepath. Or can function on telepathic wavelengths/,) Kian 'sends, not just through the contact with Vorpal but openly to Mikh. (/It's actually pretty easy to engineer. Though I can't say for certain if he's an AI or actually alive./)
    He nods once at Mikh. (/I am not familiar with telepaths outside of my race, maybe you could clarify?/)

StarDrake has posed:
"I can neither confirm nor deny that," the robot says. Deadpool seems to have curled up asleep like a kid being carried ... well, it's to scale after all. And really a lot like the movies Mikh's parents would watch with the Marx brothers where Harpo would hook one leg in the arm of another person so they were half-carrying him until they noticed it and dropped him. But a Deadpool getting a chance to sleep and be quiet is a terribly rare thing, so the robot just lets himself be treated like furniture rather than dropping him. Scans show he's not having anything unusual ... for him ... happen. That *PG13-OVERRIDE* darned super-regenerating cancer would make anyone ... difficult.

Mikh makes sure the telepathic plug is pipelined so that both of them will properly understand.

"I don't know who developed it - possibly one of Imra's people ((image of a human telepath, blond, female, serious but with a sneaky sense of humor)) - but in the future of one of the other universes I visited, they have telepathic plugs. They're immensely useful because they make up somewhat for language differences. And I'm not an AI. I'm ... oh you have Facebook here ... I'm //complicated.//"

The robot pauses with a >P emoticon on his face.

"I'm a technopath, basically I'm a ghost of sorts inhabiting a machine. And you're neither Thanagarian nor Shiar, and //you// are scanning differently every time I look at you with anything but visual. Why do you remind me of a Tenniel drawing if he was into furries?"

Vorpal (87) has posed:
"Ixnay on the 'f' word, please. I already get enough grief from the websites ... all that art..."

He shudders.

"I'm the Cheshire cat, which may answer your question or confuse you further, but you misconstrue my question... I was thinking that maybe my feathered friend might benefit from a translator. While he learns the language. "

Kian t'Kaeh has posed:
    Kian catches a bit of the reason for the shudder in Vorpal's mind. Does *not* dig further. (/I don't know what Thanagarians or Shiar are... I'm Akiar. We haven't made any first contacts yet. I don't know if I count or not, since I'm cut off from my own people./)
    He adds with a mental smirk, (/I'm getting used to complicated. I would live to find something on this world that is NOT complicated./)

StarDrake has posed:
Mikh notes sympathetically that the bird-guy is really a fish out of water, or some other metaphor that one of his teammates wouldn't understand. He'd like to help, but he's not sure that he CAN without breaking an embargo and getting himself blacklisted with S.W.O.R.D. and then he'd never get to come back to Earth without blockade running it and that's a pain in the paint and shields.

"Yeah, never heard of the Akiar. If I do I'll let them know where you are?" He pauses and looks at the cat and makes a :P emoticon at him (Not the LICK but the BLEAHN version) and says, "So did you have Star Trek on this planet? They had a thing called the Temporal Prime Directive, which was, 'Thou shalt not give future tech to people in the past because they willeth mess up the future and you willeth be stuck in chrono-jail in compressed time' so it's really not worth it? Well, there's a temporal prime directive. I honestly can't give you the tech. But hey, talk to McCoy or Richards, if they exist here. I'm sure they'd find it enough of a challenge that they'd do it free."

This is what they call 'passing the buck' on Earth. Mikh may eventually realize that, oops, he's not supposed to do that, but really, he's got a handful of Deadpool and the guy is drooling (through his mask) on the robot's shoulder.

Kian t'Kaeh has posed:
    (/It's all right if you don't know where my homeworld is/,) Kian replies, a little wearily. (/I don't either. I can't even say if I'm in the same galaxy I was born in./) He adds, after a moment's reflection, (/Or the same universe. But if you ever find a world of telepathic winged people like me, I would greatly appreciate knowing about it./)

Vorpal (87) has posed:
"I've talked to Dr. McCoy, actually. I could do so again..." The cheshire cat pauses, and then frowns. "Wait, you know Dr. McCoy, but you didn't know who I was..." and then his eyes go wide, and he says "Oh my god. This means I'm going to die soon before I become famous..."

Train of thought, derailed. And this is why time travelers don't admit to being time travelers.

StarDrake has posed:
"No it doesn't," Mikh says, a bit of annoyance creeping into his robot voice. "It just means you never existed on the worlds I was in before. It happens a lot. I don't exist on this one, apparently. I looked. My parents and their relatives don't exist."

Well. Not under those names anyway. Mikh decides that he's held onto sleeping Deadpools long enough, and he begins scanning the man's technology and filtering it through his mind. There. The teleporter trigger. Sure, it's future tech, but it's not the same tech level as the stuff from the Legion.

"So guys, I'm going to take this fellow home, and then probably go back to space. Sorry to interrupt your conversation. I'd say it was weird, but I have a strong feeling that one of you is a weirdness magnet."

Mikh hacks into the teleporter and there's a BWHOUGH sound as he disappears along with his passenger.

Kian t'Kaeh has posed:
    Kian stares at the vacant space where the other two used to be, and doublechecks his grip on Vorpal's shoulder. (/Is that normal for this world? I'm starting to wonder.../)

Vorpal (87) has posed:
"There is no normal for this world," the cat says, sighing softly. He tilts his head. "C'mon, let's go to my apartment. MMy boyfriend is out for the weekend so at least we'll have some peace and quiet where you can ask me questions about the Young Avengers."" He stands up and opens a Rabbit Hole leading to his apartment.

Then he looks around, suspiciously. "... weirdness magnet, my ass."