1444/Paco of New Troy

Paco of New Troy
Date of Scene:	13 July 2017
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Daken, Vibe

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Daken has posed:
The day is a typical summer day: hot but not sweltering, not in July, and with the threat of thunderheads on the horizon. It'll probably rain by afternoon, and that's just the way Daken likes it.

He's spent time, and plenty, in Japan. That's a place where daily rains during some times of the year are simply accepted as a fact of life. It's not exactly effortless to see his mixed heritage; usually it requires some engagement of the man, to find out those circumstances, so particular, of his past. He's just...pretty. Whatever ethnic background he has, he's inherited the best features from all of it.

From point A to point B, Daken walks down the street, conspicuously more noticeable, more eyecatching, than anyone around him. He's so casual about his strolling along, but he turns heads. Some heads. Many just continue on their way, to business or from business, the overwhelming sentiment in this part of town one of people drained more or less of their life force.

Vibe has posed:
While home-base is the Midwest, Cisco has been sent to the Metropolis branch of STAR Labs to help with...something. Frankly, the way they described it over the phone confused even this engineer, but he figured he'd see just what the issue was once he arrived. First things first though, was to check out some of the city and the best way to do that is with a cup of (iced) coffee and getting from the shop to the labs by foot if it's not too far.

The frustrating bit has been finding a coffee shop that isn't a Starbucks! What is it with the East Coast and their lack of indie coffee shops? Mabe it's just Metropolis with it's shininess? Corporate to the core? He made do with a venti cold brew thing from the earlier-mentioned chain and definitely decided that his apparently-hipster self absolutely needed to walk to the labs.

The sense, as he walks along, of drones going to and from their cubicled office gets him to actually voice, "Who would actually live here?" Maybe they don't actually live -in- the city and that's how they actually live? Maybe it's just that he's been able to carve his own way without having to kiss corporate ass that he doesn't understand those who did?

Daken has posed:
"Drones. Don't judge the whole place by this one street, though."

The voice comes from nowhere exactly visible...at first. Slowly and surely, Daken's unmistakable figure emerges from the grey masses. He has the virtue of being memorable, well-dressed, and of course, having pheromones that practically point neon signs at him. And as usual, the shirt he wears functions primarily to call attention to the skin it's not covering, showing off his muscular upper body and the tattoo design that curls all along his left side.

He doesn't even stop until he's a very scant distance in front of Cisco, grinning only slightly down at him. "What you need," he proclaims, "is a nice coffee and appreciation for your genius. And your hair."

Vibe has posed:
Cisco spins around, managing not to lose half of his coffee by virtue of the fact that he put a lid on it, as he tries to find the source of the sound. As the speaker finally reveals himself, he seems about ready to answer with the flattery catches him completely by surprise. Dark eyes look over the taller man for a moment before he offers, "Dude, thanks...but I'm straight. No offense and I'm flattered but uhm. Got my coffee," he even holds up the venti cup.

Then the thought hits and he takes a step back, looking around to see if other large, tattooed, Asian-looking men are going to be coming out of the suited crowd to somehow surround him. "First day in Metropolis...really?" is muttered to himself before he looks back to the one who spoke to him. "Is this a Mafia thing? I didn't do it! How could I, I just got here?!"

Daken has posed:
Daken rolls his eyes pretty obviously, not exactly inclined to move from right in front of Cisco. "Yeah, so's most pasta until it gets hot and wet. You call that coffee?" He inclines his head, looking down his nose quite literally at the cup. "I call that swill."

The question catches him off guard, but not really. It's enough to make Daken laugh, shaking his head. And surrounding him is the scent of everything interesting and enjoyable. "What are you trying to find? I can help. You're lost like one of Peter Pan's groupies."

Vibe has posed:
"That quote's been used a bit too much, if you ask me, and...yeah. Pretty sure I'm straight, but thanks. Still flattered though." As far as the coffee is concerned, he also looks at the cup, "Well, it would seem to me that despite being a high-tech, fancy city, you guys can't seem to figure out how to get real coffee shops in here. So it was that or deal with the Keurig that will inevitably be where I'm going and this is the lesser of two evils." At least they're now talking about coffee and not personal attractions. It's a much better subject.

"I'm not lost, but thanks." He's mostly not lost. "I just wanted to enjoy the day and take a peek at the city before I was shuffled into some lab to fix probably some little mistake that people just didn't think about. The usual." At least he was flown out on the company's dime. "Why? I mean...why single me out?"

Daken has posed:
"What quote? Somebody quoted mass-produced coffee being swill?" Daken snorts and just reaches out to tap the cup with a fingertip. "Sure, okay. Fine." A light shrug of the muscular, well-defined shoulders. The shoulders that smell particularly good, not that most people can pick out that smell is the sense somewhat betraying them.

"You're cute," Daken answers, plainly. "And you stick out like a sore thumb." Which could be said for Daken himself, but something about him just...allows him to blend, somehow. It's easy to believe that if he wanted to disappear...he so easily could.

Vibe has posed:
"Your quota about the pasta," But Cisco tries to get back to less weird topics of conversaion. "I mean, if they exist, sure...I'll take directions to them." Might something like that exist? Is it too much to hope for?

But then the topic comes back and he offers, "Again, flatterd, but again, not into that sort of thing." As for sticking out, he glances about, "Well, I tend not to wear suits unless someone is getting married or buried."

Daken has posed:
"Suits are for tools." Daken shrugs again and shakes his head. "Guess you can find your way. Good luck." And without anything more, he steps around Cisco and continues along his path. It's easy for him to just disappear into the crowd, with his abilities, even if he does stick out for his sense of fashion. Most would find it perplexing, but in a city like this, of this size, maybe it's understandable. Even the most extraordinary individuals can be lost in the waves of mediocrity.