3217/Grand Central Conversations

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Grand Central Conversations
Date of Scene: 22 November 2017
Location: Grand Central Station, New York City
Synopsis: Summary needed
Cast of Characters: Mon-El, Rift, Slipstream, Feral




Mon-El has posed:
    Lar has mostly been wandering around planetside, looking for interesting things to do on this new world. Since Lyle had suggested going to museums as a 'fun' thing that Earth people do, he's been frequenting some of those types of attractions around the Tri-State area.

    Around the Manhattan region, Grand Central Station is generally advertised as a popular attraction, with a shopping mall and museum inside. Though it is more of a museum in and of itself, being a historical monument. So at the moment he is standing in the atrium below the station's massive domed ceiling, taking in the sights.

Rift has posed:
Kitora Alua decided to enter under a more normal means - not drawing attention. Yes, she used gravity-shifting to arrive, but after landing, turned off her aura of power and is just walking around. She, too, is in Grand Central Station, her delicate Asian features and flaming red hair quite the combination. She is wearing sunglasses, even inside, as she is drawn to food. Heading to a hotdog stand, she orders four.

Slipstream has posed:
Having hit up the Apple Store for a quick purchase in the form of a battery back up, Drake is heading along the mall and passing by the stores with a curious glance about. He's wearing his eSport team jersey for the New York Static with his name on the back: Dynamite. At times, someone will rush over and ask for a selfie with him or an autograph, mostly from a younger crowd who babbles on excitedly about some game or another. He sweeps a hand back through his hair, flashing wide grins about as he indulges in the young crowd.

Mon-El has posed:
    Lar took notice of the hot dog stand down near the food court area. Those people he had been conversing with earlier had been talking a lot about food. And they did mention those things, calling them 'hot dogs'. Apparently, they're very good! So he decides to give one a try. He gets in line at the stand where Kitora is ordering, glancing over at Drake who apparently has drawn quite a small crowd. So he must be well-known, like that 'Ben' individual he met earlier. "A lot of famous people around here, aren't there?" he comments idly to no one in particular.

Rift has posed:
Kitora Alua gets her hotdogs with the works (except relish) and goes to sit down nearby, looking at the guy who everyone seems to be hanging out - she doesn't recognize Drake. She's not in the videogame scene. She then glances over at the hotdog lien, seeing one guy who looks just a bit lost. She starts devouring one of her hotdogs, curious.

Slipstream has posed:
After standing for another photo, Drake gives a high five to one teen who is chanting 'USA! USA! USA!'. There's a shake of his head, a fist bump, then he continues on, aiming for the hog dog line as he takes out his wallet. Flipping out a couple of bills, he clears his throat. "Sup Tony? Two dogs with the works on it please." He drawls out. "And a Dew." As he gives a casual look, he glances over to the man in the super hero suit, raising a brow upwards, then one of those head nod jerks.

Mon-El has posed:
    Lar IS TOTALLY not wearing a suit or anything, just regular street clothes. He steps up to the stand and orders a hot dog and what he thinks must be a popular Earth beverage, although somewhat cautiously since the last time he tried to get a drink somewhere it ended in the entire place getting trashed pretty thoroughly.

    Buuut, apparently. Not carefully enough. When he takes the can of soda from the cashier, it just...collapses in his grip with a crunch and a pop, the vaccuum seal breaking instantly to send the drink spewing violently out and all over Drake and his fans. "Oh--oh I'm sorry!" He exclaims, though he is obviously stifling laughter and it comes out just a little bit. "That was not intentional, I promise you."

Rift has posed:
Kitora Alua squawks as she reacted fast, jumping behind the bench to save herself... and her hotdogs. Whoa. Super-strength much? She wonders if that guy is a mutant. She wolfs down a second hotdog while waiting for the fallout from the 'blast' as she finally rises up, one hotdog in each hand. She just grumbles, her hair frazzled from the duck-and-cover. She glances at Mon-El, eyebrow raised.

Slipstream has posed:
As he is blasted by the soda in his face, Drake blinks a few times as he looks down at himself. "Uh... " He wipes himself down a bit, followed by a laugh. "It's all good. Not the first time today I've had a soda thrown in my face. You don't wanna ask about the last couple of times." Giving a flick of his hand to rid himself of some soda, he asks, "Defective can or something? That thing pretty much blew up in your hand dude."

Mon-El has posed:
    To be honest, Mon-El was half-expecting Drake to attack him like those humans at the pub in Vernon did last time. So he is visibly relieved when he seems to just laugh it off. He glances at Kitora, but she seems mostly dry, so that's also a relief. "Eheh--well, no actually, I don't think anything was wrong with the uh, beverage container. I just um..." he tries pitching the destroyed can into a nearby trash can. It gets in, but knocks the entire thing over, spilling garbage onto the floor. Super strength, yes.

    "Ahem, anyway. I take it people know you around here?" he asks, gesturing around at the gathered fans. "So are you like the Fantastic Four? You fight villains?" After all, he seems to have logos on his clothes like Ben did.

Slipstream has posed:
"Me? No. No way. I'm a video game athlete and team captain for the American squad for Overwatch's ten year anniversary of the game." Drake nods his head. "Only bad guys I fight are through a keyboard when the count down ends." His eyes look over at the knocked over trashcan. "So, you're like ..super strong. Are you a mutant? I don't care if you are. I'm super libreral and all that shit. Even dated one for a bit. It's kinda cool that you got a gift. I'm still living in lamesville even though I play video games for a living."

Rift has posed:
Kitora Alua blinks as she looks right at DRake, eyebrow raised, not saying anything - she's eating two hotdogs more or less at the same time. She is acting rather gluttonous. She is curious about that as well as she moves closer to Mon-El. She resists the urge to tap into her powers - they have weird side-effects like making her look eerie. "Some would think it'd be the best job of the world... if you can make a living doing videogames. I'm still a senior in high school. But I prefer reality. REality's weird enough."

Mon-El has posed:
    "Overwatch? So it's a game? I wouldn't mind trying a game. Especially if you can get rich and famous off of it?" Lar smiles. "Maybe you could show it to me sometime?" He contemplates trying to clean up the mess he made, but figures he would probably just make more messes.

    "No I'm not a mutant. But I'm glad you're very generous. Where is lamesville?" He arches a brow at Kitora. "Senior? You don't look very old."

Rift has posed:
Kitora Alua shoots a weird glance Drake's away. Not wanting to be around a 'mutant' discussion - she's been too flashy in other incidents in the city recently anyway, she just states, "Well, I'm going to have toget going. Nice meeting a celebrity - of sorts...?" she asks. She shrugs and goes to depart.

Slipstream has posed:
"Yeah, Overwatch is a game." Drake says with a grin along his face as he watches Kitora head off. His attention moves back to Mon-El as he snags some extra napkins from the hotdog cart and begins to pat himself off. "One of the best games in the world. I was told back in it's hey-day that it was game of the year a few times over. Investors have put billions into this game. Now they run it out of huge stadiums, like football or baseball."

Mon-El has posed:
    Lar nods. "Wow, it must be very fun. So can anyone play it?" The mention of football or baseball just draws a blank with him, though. "How do you play football and baseball?"

Slipstream has posed:
"H.. how do you play football and baseball?" Drake asks with a puzzled look on his face. "You're not from around here I take it? I mean .. everyone knows what football and baseball is. But yeah, anyone can play it .." He peels his wet jersey up and over his head to reveal a simple white top beneath it, as well a pair of dog tags that dangle about his neck.

Mon-El has posed:
    Mon-El laughs, looking slightly abashed. "No, you are right - Im from Daxam. I only just arrived here on Earth a few days ago. So how do you play Overwatch? I would not mind giving it a try! If anyone can play it of course."

Slipstream has posed:
"Uh.. I .. okay ..." Drake blinks his eyes a few times at the admission of being from another planet. "You play Overwatch on a computer. PC. Mouse and keyboard. The ten year anniversary one will have these sweet AR Goggles and gloves so that you can move along with your character. I'm in the Beta program. It's been pretty fun."

Mon-El has posed:
    "Oh, so its like a simulator." Lar nods. "So computers are called a PC mouse and keyboard on Earth? Sorry for all the questions. Im still new to this place. What is the Beta program?"

    "You know what? Where are my manners. What is your name by the way? Lar Gand." Now what was the greeting Bombshell told him about? Right, handshake. He sticks out a hand as she did before. Hopefully, he wont unintentionally crush Drakes hand like he did to that soda can.

Feral has posed:
    Plodding her way up the escalator, a shock of Christmas red stands out against the milling crowd coming up from the latest subway train. Only barely dressed for public transportation, Vanya's normally bare feet are covered by a battered pair of flat-tops, sans socks, and her garishly bright pants are every bit as tattered and shredded as they were in warmer weather - a little moreso even. Grunting as she stretches a bare arm high overhead, the wild-eyed Russian yawns heavily and lulls out her tongue like a dog might. Bronze-colored eyes sweep the station's ground floor boredly as she pops a peanut into her mouth from the bag she's carrying, and her nose twitches, taking in the scent of cool November air through the exit doors, the pack of humanity, subway food...
    The cage fighter quirks a thick brown brow as her gaze alights on a tall and athletic young man and her nose twitches a few times more. Without any preamble, the woman turns and stalks closer while crunching on her peanut, shell and all.

Slipstream has posed:
"My name is Drake." The young gamer says with a grin towards Lar. He reaches out to take a shake of his hand, his own quick and firm. "Your name is Lar Gand? That's pretty neat. Sounds sorta ... uh ... I dunno... French.... maybe.." His lips quirk upwards. "Beta means it's not out in the public yet. Closed game. Invite only. It's hard to explain." He wrings out his jersey a bit, trying to squeeze out a bit more of the soda from the earlier spill. "You should check it out on YouTube or something. Lots of game play on there."

Mon-El has posed:
    "Daxamite." he clarifies. "Where can I find the you tube?" Mon-El really doesnt know anything does he. "So a part of the game that is -not- open to everyone?" That is what it sounded like, anyway.

    He notices a very strange woman approaching then, and begins to examine her. "Are you from another planet too, or are you a mutant?" Since others had used that term before, to refer to unusual humans.

Feral has posed:
    Vanya's raised brow goes even higher and stays there as her shoes squeak to a stop. She smirks in amusement while popping another peanut into her mouth and crunching loudly through it. "Another planet?" she considers for a moment, then shrugs. "Planet Russia. Is that what your smell is wrong for, some kind of alien?"
    For her part, the wild-haired woman smells like a camp ground, and there are even a few twigs still stuck in her hair. A subtler odor that's shed more conservatively onto the stale heated air tinges of bear or perhaps wolf.

Slipstream has posed:
"Oh. He's uh .. not from Earth. Sorta like Superman, right? And ... Martian Manhunter ... I think .." Drake trails off as he searches the back of his head for a few of those 'big names' he's seen in the paper. "And Green Lantern." He bobs his head for a moment. "Um.. YouTube is on the Internet." He slips his phone out of his back pocket, a thin tablet of glass as he holds it up to his face as it makes a beeping noise, followed by a soothing woman saying: 'Hi Drake. Welcome back.' He lowers it and taps an app, then types with his thumbs before holding it up to Lar, showing him some Overwatch gameplay. "This is it. That's me playing Tracer. She's the fast one with the two guns."

Mon-El has posed:
    "Russia? Cant say I have heard of that one, but then again Im not familiar with every sector of space." Lar arches a brow at the woman. Is she saying he smells bad? That was kind of rude. Not that hes offended, given the way SHE smells and looks. In fact, he cant help but chuckle just a little bit. "Sure. I smell wrong, from the woman who smells like mud." he jokes. "And has pieces of plant in her hair. Do you live in a forest?" He isnt really -trying- to be offensive, but her attitude has him unable to keep the sarcasm in.

    He watches Tracer dart back and forth, in and out on Drakes phone. "Looks fascinating. Definitely she is fast, it must take some time to get adjusted to keeping tracking of her movement." he remarks. "But every good game must require skill. Right?"

Feral has posed:
    "I smell like nature. And sometimes, da," Vanya retorts easily, as if that were all the excuse she needed. Pausing, the brawler blinks twice and inspects her hair, spotting one of the twigs and then shaking her head vigorously to fling it away. two bits of wood and a leaf are loosed into the air and somehow her unkempt hair ends up even worse.
    "There, better? And what's this?" She asks while craning herself forward to peer around the side of Drake's phone.

Slipstream has posed:
"Yeah, Tracer is high skill. She's the weakest, but she's the fastest. So you use her to get in and out real fast. Taunt and flank the enemy. Cause a disruption in their ranks." Drake says as his eyes track the quick, speedy character in orange tights and a bomber jacket. To Vanya, he says, "It's a video game that I play. Called Overwatch."

Mon-El has posed:
    "A sound strategy, Im sure!" Lar nods. "Cant wait to try it myself. Do you play with others?" he continues, grinning.

    "Mud, nature." He waves a dismissive hand. "It is the same thing on on a basic level. So you do not prefer civilization? I suppose it has its frustrations."

Feral has posed:
    "Ah," Vanya intones and takes her eyes away from the phone, finding the tall alien beside her more interesting. "All of this?" She asks, gesturing widely to the bright and cavernous station interior. "Over-rated. Too much money and standing around doing nothing." Smirking at the Daxamite's exemplar build, the brawler thumps his chest with the side of her fist.
    "At least you look like fun."

Slipstream has posed:
"Yeah, with about fifty million other players." Drake chuckles. "But I'm part of New York Static. The team that represents this city. I live in a dorm with about seven other guys and we're a team. I'm also on the American team as well." He tucks the phone into his pocket again. "I mean, I make over a hundred grand a year standing around and doing nothing. Between advertisements, salary, subs, donos." He shrugs his shoulder upwards, then takes another bite of his hot dog. "Anyways, was nice meeting you dude." He says to Lar.

Mon-El has posed:
    "Fifty million? Wow, that is a lot of other people. So do you play in front of others? Maybe I will come to one of your tournaments, Drake...or events...or whatever you call them." Mon-El smiles.

    The Daxamite looks down at the thump on the chest, which didnt even cause him to stumble or flinch. "Doing nothing hm? And what do you consider to be -something-? I look...fun? Whats that supposed to mean?" he laughs.

Feral has posed:
    "Like you /don't/ stand around doing nothing all day," Vanya replies to the Daxamite, smirking a little wider as she takes back her calloused fist and pops two more peanuts into her mouth. "Fun is moving and running something down - or someone. Or good beer, or boxing."

Slipstream has posed:
There's a chuckle from Drake as he listens to the two of them. "But yeah, I play in front of other people. Huge stadiums. They fly me around the world. Australia, Korea .. um .. London... " He trails off. "I kind of got used to it now."

Mon-El has posed:
    "How would you know that? You only just met me." Lar retorts good-naturedly. "Beer?" Drawing another blank. "And boxing, as in, creating boxes or putting things into boxes? Like packing?"

    "That sounds fun. Well you should let me know when and where you are next playing in front of an audience. I'll try to come."

Feral has posed:
    "Ever play in Russia?" Vanya asks aside playfully to Drake before turning back to Lar. "I know because your body doesn't come from eating bread on a couch, and 'boxing' is English for a friendly fight," she explains, turning to throw two loose jabs into the air.

Slipstream has posed:
"No, we don't play in Russia, but you'd probably like one of the characters on the game. Her name is Zarya. She's a Russian weight lifter who fought for her country. She's super strong." Drake says as he dips his head in a nod. He gives a glance between the two, then glances down at his watch that beeps at him. "I should get going. I got practice."

Mon-El has posed:
    "Well, it -could-, food is necessary in order to have a healthy body." Lar chuckles, but then raises a brow at the description of boxing. "Why is it called 'boxing' then, it has nothing to do with boxes. And isn't 'friendly'...." he pauses, searching for the right wording. "Isn't that the opposite of fighting? If you were friendly, then you're only playing not really fighting."

    He nods at Drake. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Drake. I hope to see you at your next tournament."

Feral has posed:
    "Russian or Sovetskiy?" Vanya asks with another glance to Drake, but Lar pulls her attention back away and the brawler doesn't press the matter.
    "Then call it 'playing'," she offers easily. "You look fun to play with..."

Mon-El has posed:
    "I take it this 'boxing' way of playing is a common thing that people of Earth like to do for fun?" Mon-El asks, then smirks and folds his arms at her last comments. "Oh what is that, some kind of challenge?"

Feral has posed:
    "Some of us." Vanya smirks back widely enough to show a pointed canine and a dozen teeth nearby as her bronze gaze dances on the tall young man. "I've played with men, animals, demons, and gods, but I haven't played with an alien. Do you want some hospitality in the old Soviet way?"

Mon-El has posed:
    Mon-El shrugs. "Well I have never played it before, if there are any rules you'll have to let me know." he glances at the doors. "Should we take it outside?"

Feral has posed:
    Vanya looks around at the throngs of subway goers and chuckles. Three more peanuts disappear into her mouth. "Da, somewhere more quiet. People scare too easy here."
    "Only one rule," she adds as she licks her lips, moping them clean of salt and shell dust. "Try not to kill each other. You hit as hard as you want to be hit."