3731/Mishaps at a bar
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| Mishaps at a bar | |
|---|---|
| Date of Scene: | 25 January 2018 |
| Location: | Luke's Bar - Harlem |
| Synopsis: | Damn illegal aliens; they took our jobs! |
| Cast of Characters: | Blackout, Mon-El
|
- Blackout has posed:
It's evening, around 8. The blue collar crowd is present here and relaxing after a long day at work. Among the crowd is a non descript male with dark hair and moderate toned skin. He sits at the bar drinking beer. His clothing is black, standard boots, slacks, shirt and jacket. The black is flat, and the material is thickish but more like leather than cloth. With a unique texture that is definitely not normal. He has nearly finished the bottle, and motions for the bartender to bring him another. The bartender says, "That's your 8th, Marc, don't you think you should slow down?"
Marc responds, "Eah.. I'm not driving and you know how it is. Life is hard and play me that violin."
- Mon-El has posed:
Life is definitely rough. Yeah, even for someone who can throw things into orbit from the surface. For different reasons than most. But still, things are complicated. And for Lar Gand, he -can't- even drown his worries in alcohol like most people because, well, he's just immune to everything. Except magic.
Still, he walks in and sits down near Blackout, dressed in regular street clothes. He stares up at whatever's playing on the TV, then looks over at the man, instantly recognizing him from the bank a few weeks earlier. "Enjoy your stolen goods?" he remarks casually.
- Blackout has posed:
Looking to his side, Marc takes note of his new bar companion and smiles in the recognition. "Absolutely. You just don't have a clue how much that helped out. Thanks for the assist. You really made the whole situation go off without a hitch. Those jerks out in the lobby, they would have ruined everything."
Marc takes another drink and will slide the bottle forward as the bartender brings another.
- Mon-El has posed:
"They also could have gotten innocent people injured or killed." Lar replies with a nod. "That's the important part." He watches as the man gets another refill. Humans, poisoning themselves on purpose. How strange!
"So tell me, Blackout. If you're so resourceful with that pocket dimension energy or whatever it is," he says, gesturing toward his clothing which is clearly made out of the stuff as well. "Then why do you need to rob others of -their- resources?"
- Blackout has posed:
Marc toys with the bottle a moment, turning it slowly in his right hand while it remains in contact with the bar, "Well, mind you, and let's be clear. I don't steal from individuals. What was pilfered was insured by the federal government. The same government that steals from the people on a daily basis. And the same banks that also skim money from the people that trust them to secure their lives and livelyhood. Just a big racket."
Marc then takes a drink and says, "As far as your question... I've been pondering that lately. I was thinking of working for NASA. Because I could totally get their stuff into orbit, the moon or even Mars for far cheaper than they get it up there. Then again, there's people like you who would probably do it for free. So charging them would be usurped by do-gooder-super-family peeps. Then I'm back to square one."
- Mon-El has posed:
Lar listens to Blackout's reasoning, considering his words. To be honest, he doesn't know much about the governments of Earth in general. Though, he does know a thing or two about governments that don't exactly treat their citizens well or fairly. "Sounds like my family back home." he mutters, scoffing slightly.
"Well I'm sure you could find someone who would pay you not only for your abilities but for your expertise, too. I may be able to fly to orbit quickly but I'm far from knowing everything. Especially things specific to this particular planet, which I did not grow up on."
- Blackout has posed:
Turning the flow of the conversation, Marc will ask in a curious tone, "Which brings up another point. You're an alien. Are you a 'legal' alien? I mean, did you get papers, a green card? Or whatever hoops you all have to jump through to enter the states? I mean, we're deporting foreigners all the time because they just show up and expect to live in this country." Marc asks, curious about the process and to learn whether or not Lar is legal. He takes another drink.
- Mon-El has posed:
"I'm not sure, actually." Lar admits. "My team, the Legion, is recognized by the government, I think. But I don't remember if I ever went through any documentation or other official process to become 'legal'. Or if anyone forged documents or anything. I just remember waking up in New Troy a few months ago and having no idea where I was or even -when- I was, nor having any idea how to find out because no one spoke my language."
- Blackout has posed:
"Illegal... Typical. You're here taking our jobs." Marc says in a louder voice with the intention of drawing the attention of the blue collar workers in the room. "It's bad enough the economy is so bad; that we have to scrape by to make ends meet. But then people like you show up, expecting a hand-out and taking our jobs. Taking the jobs of the real Americans."
And attention he does draw. There are a few at the bar and a nearby table who take note of the exclamation produced by Marc. Who winks with his <far> eye to Lar so that the blue collar American's don't see.
- Mon-El has posed:
"Hey, I helped you last time. You yourself admitted those robbers could have hurt you." Lar points out, somewhat confused by Blackout's reaction. What exactly is he trying to do? "I don't expect any hand outs, either. The Legion has provided me with everything I need thus far...not that it's much." Really, all he needs is plenty of yellow solar radiation and Brainiac's anti-lead serum.
He sighs and slides out of his seat. "If you need help finding work, I would be happy to do what I can....I'm sorry I bothered you. It seems I'm not welcome here after all."
- Blackout has posed:
"Legion? Oh wait, you're talking about the Legion of Doom aren't you...", Marc asks as Lar slides off the bar stool. There's even a slight smile that dons Marc's lips regarding the departure and the taunting he's doling out at Lar's expense. "Yeah, thanks for taking my job. You should go back to your evil Legion duties. I'm sure they've got health benefits. Unlike the rest of us, honest, hard working, Americans."
- Mon-El has posed:
"What's the Legion of Doom?" Lar seriously has not heard of it. But he doesn't wait for an answer, shrugging instead before he leaves the bar.