4071/When Condiments Attack

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When Condiments Attack
Date of Scene: 14 March 2018
Location: Manhattan, New York City
Synopsis: After the Friends of Veterans (log 4070) event ends, clean up is needed. A few of the heroes and attendees say their parting words before ending their nights.
Cast of Characters: Captain America, Silver Sable, Jill Valentine, War Machine

Captain America has posed:
    There's no way around it, the Ritz-Carlton ball room is a mess. The Friends of Veterans had their gala crashed by the foodstuff themed Condiment King and his cronies. Several of the tables in the room are smashed, the buffet has been man-handled, and there are bullet holes in several of the walls. The maintenance teams are still there, handy men and women trying to clean up all the spills and the debris while the air system works overtime. The authorities had shown up shortly after the quick battle was over, though now only a handful of them are left, and two of them are still talking to Captain Rogers.
    "Well, I think that's all we need, Cap. Seems pretty cut and tried." One of the plain clothes police officers looks at his tablet and brushes a thumb over its surface, his notes scrolling past. "If we think of anything else we know where to find you."
    "Sure thing, fellas." Steve has both hands on a mop, his jacket off and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up so he can get to grips with it. Pushing it down into the bucket he presses the lever on the side to help squeeze the water out and then starts to push the mop through the many remains of mustard, ketchup, chocolate cake, chocolate mousse, and other bits of food that are still in between the tiles.
    "You know, they got people to do that." The other detective offers even as he digs into his jacket for a cigarette.
    "I know, but figure I made the mess, I should be the one to clean it up.
    "Alright, Cap. See you later. Thanks again."
    Captain Rogers gives a small salute and then goes back to pushing that mop back and forth.

Silver Sable has posed:
    Through the events of the evening, Silver had remained at her table and simply observed. She didn't assist. She didn't move. She sat and watched the goings-on with some amusement though it didn't show on her face. Considering her particular skill set, some might have found that vexing. If they knew of those skills. Yet, the Condiment King and his crew were easily out skilled, something she had picked up from the start.
    More importantly, there wasn't a single good bounty amongst them. Nothing there was worth getting mustard on her dress.
    Once things were under control, then she moved to help a few of the veterans. The WWII vet who had attacked the man on the stage? He was in fine health despite the strain on his system. She was sure to thank him for his service, both in the past and the present. She parted after giving him a kiss on the cheek.
    Now that the crowds were gone, she had her chance to do what she came here for. She approaches Captain Rogers as he works that mop on the floor, not above helping on something so menial. That is what made him a hero unlike so many others.
    "Captain? May I take a moment of your time?" she asks.

Jill Valentine has posed:
    As Cap continues with the mopping, a pair of plain-clothes officers walk past him, one of them seemingly griping to the other. "Tell me, Bill." he begins, "This whole thing, right, the -whole- attack, lasted... I think just over twenty seconds. Give or take, right?"

    There was a pause, as the second officer gave a nod. "That's what everyone says. Guy shows up, gets mobbed, apparently robbing vets is a really bad idea. Maybe a minute at most."

    Another pause. The first man resumes after a few nods. "Then tell me, exactly, why I just spent two hours with the brunette to detail a minute's worth of action? I know the technical specifications of the OTHER PISTOL that Colonel Rhodes drew. I needed to know that it shot bullets, and where the bullets hit, MAYBE."

    They continue to walk, as Jill slips her jacket back onto her shoulders, and her beret back into the top of her head. In front of her is a minefield of condiments, between her and the door, her dress uniform at risk.

    Jill was -spotless-, a meticulous level of perfect professionalism that left her so very different than, literally, every other veteran present.

Captain America has posed:
    Captain Rogers straightens up, wiping a forearm over his brow as the police officers depart, leaving him there with a handful of the cleaning crew, two last officers, Silver... and that woman whose pistol fire was so precise that even in the middle of the considerable mayhem, he noticed.
    When Jill starts to move past he'll give her a nod and ten says, "Ma'am. Thank you for your help back there." He lifts a finger from the haft of the mop, as if giving a small wave.
    But that's the moment when Silver Sable walks up and his eyes shift to her. "Ms. Sablinova?" He asks, perhaps making sure he has the name correct by some sign from her, then he continues. "Certainly, how may I help?"

War Machine has posed:
     Rhodes might not have been as easy to notice as Cap in his own efforts to clean up, mostly helping to set back up tables, and dust a bit of the debris into trash bins but that's not to say he's not helping. He's just a bit less well attention grabbing as he does it working with a few of the other marines on stand by to help make cleanup a breeze.

     One thing you could almost always rely on a well trained soldier was for them to do a job right. In this case that job was cleaning up the mess left behind. Rhodes might have been retired but he was still the highest ranking officer on premises. As such he had a responsibility to set a good example even in his finest dress uniform, which remained perfectly spotless thanks to his some might say extreme efforts to keep clean.

     His Icer is back in its holster tucked away hidden completely from view on his dress uniform and the small squad of soldiers make quick work of the cleanup detail near the back of the complex sweeping their way slowly forward. He's not even the oldest man helping with the cleanup, the WWII vet chipping in where he can to pick up bits of debris. This was a team effort after all, as so many things were in the armed service.

Silver Sable has posed:
    That earns a faint smile from the women in silver. "I'm flattered that you know who I am," she admits. Silver shouldn't be surprised though. He is a member of the Avengers and has likely been apprised of her group and their adventures. Anytime she is on US soil, she knows that the government keeps tabs on her. When she allows it. It's amusing to play their game.
    "I simply wanted to pay my respects. You fought against the Germans, something that my grandfather did as well. He created the Wild Pack to pursue Nazi criminals after the war.. Although our goals have changed since that time, it is still due to men like yourself that my group exists. In truth, the Wild Pack brings in a majority of the funds necessary to keep my country going. So, quite simply, Thank you."
    She does glance over at Jill as the Captain acknowledges her. Out of no where comes a card, white with embossed silver script. "If you are ever looking for a job, call me. The Wild Pack could use a marksman like you." Then her smile shifts a bit, becoming slightly more predatory. "If you can pass the test for entry, of course."

Jill Valentine has posed:
    Jill isn't necessarily headed for the exit as of yet. She's not taking off her dress uniform to get to the cleanup- instead doing the job right in full kit. It's somewhat better that way, as far as she's concerned. Still, she is moving, making an easy trip over the mess of the room towards where the mops and such are being prepared. Jill is a little too meticulous to do this in anything more casual. It's kind of a Perfection-off between her and Rhodey.

    She finds herself suddenly visited by Sable, and a brow raises. There's a stoniness to her face. Most of the veterans here have, as it were, Seen Some Shit. Jill, if not the winner, is a strong candidate for Seen The Most Shit. Another woman's predatory gaze isn't really going to faze her- not that it's likely meant to.

    Jill lets on none of what she may know about the Wild Pack, instead taking the card and slipping it to one perfectly pressed pocket. "I will take it under advisement."

Captain America has posed:
    As the two women exchange greetings and credentials of a sort, Steve Rogers sort of smiles and gives a slight nod as if having expected something of the sort knowing something of Silver Sable's reputation. But as they moved off a bit he'll step back towards that bucket and the mop, taking it back out of its place and pushing that lever to wring it out. Once it's set he'll start working on the mess that he made. Particularly the rather gnarly mass of ruined dessert that he dropped on poor Mustard.
    As some of the veterans call it an evening and start to head off, Cap smiles and lifts a hand in a wave to them. "Seeya later fellas, don't stay out all night." He flashes a grin and then points at one of the WW2 vets who grins rakishly if a bit gap-toothedly as he moves his walker forwards, his two care-givers laughing a bit and helping him on.
    Cap sort of shakes his head and smiles, rinsing the mop again and then starts to push the wheeled mop with both hands, leading it over towards the maintenance team.

Silver Sable has posed:
    Once the very brief conversation with Jill is over, Silver leaves the young woman and moves away. A slow persual of the room and the veterans within. All good men and women who served their country in the most honorable way possible. She respects them. As that same vet moves away from Cap, his steps lead him near Silver. The two share a few words, her hands clasping one of his own and then she leans in to give him a kiss on the cheek. Then he is off with his caretakers.
    She is smiling softly as she follows his passage out the door. "He served with my grandfather," she says to no one in particular. There are no tears. No weepy displays. Just that faint smile is all that she gives of herself. A moment later the man is gone. With him out of her sight, that momentary insight is gone and she looks about.
    The crowd is leaving. The mess is being taken care of. She has spoken to the Captain as she had hoped. Her evening here is done. She moves back to the table she left earlier, picking up that white faux fur wrap and slipping it around her shoulders.

Captain America has posed:
    As she gathers her belongings and gets ready to depart, she'll be left to her own thoughts for a time. But that brief moment of reverie is broken when she'll hear his voice again from behind her. The tall American soldier smiles a little, just a touch as he's rolling the sleeves of his dress shirt back down and then takes some time to button his cuffs.
    "I believe I met your grandfather." He says and leaves it there for a few moments. He straightens out his sleeves, then swings the jacket over his shoulder and slips an arm through it, then the other. "In '44, there was a Hydra base on the southern Symkarian border, in the Teutoben Forest."
    The Avenger begins to button up his jacket and smiles at her as he tells her. "He came to the briefing, helped set us straight about a few things. And when things started to go down, he was right there with his men. Led from the front, even though... well. The years hadn't been kind to him."

Silver Sable has posed:
    That is information Silver had never heard. She turns to face the man, watching as he gets his uniform back into proper form but her full attention is on his words. She remembers the files. There was such a mission. The location matches, the situation with Hydra. The files had not mentioned the famous Captain America had been present. Although, his missions had often been classified. It wouldn't do for Captain America's location to be compromised by a leak of such files giving a possible area he might be located in.
    The bit about her grandfather leading from the front has her smiling again, a natural expression. There is pride in her posture, her gaze and her words. "That would be my grandfather. I am certain when you were all set straight, he was rather...blunt about it. Such was his way. He wouldn't let anything slow him down, even though perhaps he should have. Such stubbornness." Her eyes sparkle a bit. "I believe it runs in the family. "

Captain America has posed:
    When she speaks of her grandfather she can almost see the memories conjured forth by the man, that older warrior who was so intent on victory and who would not tolerate compromise nor anything less than excellence. The people of Symkaria were a hard people, intense. And yes, even stubborn.
    "I wouldn't presume, Ms. Sablinova." Steve smiles and then reaches behind him to take up his hand put it back on, adjusting it with a brush of fingers over the brim. He slides his hands into his pockets and turns to face the door, "May I walk you out?" He asks even as a few of the other veterans are starting to walk by.
    "See you later, Cap. Good job, buddy." One of the younger veterans gives the hero a thumbs up to which Steve lifts a hand in a small wave, "Thanks, soldier."

Silver Sable has posed:
    At the offer, Silver gives a nod and falls into step beside the man who has become legend. It is strange meeting him after all she has heard and read. She had expected the hero of this country to be less personable. Certainly he would be, he was the poster child for a time when the propaganda machine used him before he took to the battlefields instead, performing a task that only he could. His very presence inspired others. Yet where she thought she might see or sense the fact it was all an act, that wasn't there.
    Watching the veterans as they offered parting words, there was her proof. "Even now, you still inspire them, though you are no longer on the battlefields of war but instead fighting a different kind. It isn't merely who you are but you, the person behind the uniform. That is quite interesting."

Captain America has posed:
    Steve walks with her towards those large double doors that open upon the hotel lobby itself. The reporters have all gone home, or pursued the story down other avenues. Some got a few words from witnesses and the tales being harried about by the news agencies are of a mixed bag. But at least now, this time of night, that lobby is mostly empty save for a handful of police officers and some of the hotel staff.
    "I don't know about that, Ms. Sablinova. When people look at me a lot of times they just see a symbol. A man from a time when things were simpler." He gives a small smile sidelong towards her as he closes the door behind them and heads into the lobby proper, their footsteps echoing faintly in that large hall.
    "I just try not let them down." As they move along towards the bank of doors that open out towards the city of New York at night, he then adds with a faint smirk at the smudge of mustard on his lapel. "Some nights, though, are easier than others."

Silver Sable has posed:
    "You do not realize that is the exact reason?" Silver says as she keeps pace with him. Or he does with her. She isn't having to walk faster despite his longer stride yet he doesn't seem to be compensating. Perhaps they simply move at the same pace. It is amusing considering they are both symbols for their countries, important to them in their own ways. Different but the same.
    She notes the look at the mustard and her smile is back. "If they were all easy, we would be bored in less than a week," she comments as they near the lobby doors. She glances up at him, face turned his direction as she does so. "It is you, Steve Rogers, who inspires because you care. You give of yourself for others. You take them onto your shoulders and carry their weight." She makes a soft sound with her tongue on the roof of her mouth. "I do not know you but this I am able to see. You do not do for yourself. Perhaps to your own detriment."

Captain America has posed:
    Steve turns his head to the side and gets a sall awkward smile, one eye scrunching up a bit as he looks into the distance, then back at her critically as if gauging the truth in those words she's offering. Not in her belief in them, perhaps, and more in their veracity to the living world. He shakes his head and says, "Yeah, well. My mom used to tell me, even when we were having a hard time making ends meet, that if you do well... you gotta give back."
    He reaches the door and he holds it open for her to precede him, and once she sweeps outside he'll follow after her. "And I've had some good fortune in my life. Only fair I try to give some back."
    Returning his hands to his pockets he'll look up and down the sidewalk, mostly empty save for a few wanderers seeking something in the night. "I imagine this is you?" He asks as he just most likely assumes a limo will be by to pick her up.

Silver Sable has posed:
    Some women may have taken offense at him holding the door. Silver is not one of them. She recognizes it as a polite gesture, the same as she would have done for another person of any gender. Stepping out into the night air, she pulls her wrap a bit more tightly around her then glances over her shoulder as he steps out beside her. A few feet and they are in the center of the sidewalk.
    "This I understand," she says as she looks up at him. "To give back to those who do not have. To put yourself in places you may not wish to be, so that others may live a good life."
    If it were not for her path with the Wild Pack, her country would be in a less comfortable position. Her people would not live as well as they do. The money she brings in from her less than savorty lifestyle is what drives the ecomony of her homeland.
    It is a burden to carry while it is a blessing to be able to do so much for so many.
    She reaches up a hand as though to brush her hair back but he will recognize the motion as she touches a commlink that is hidden within her ear. "I am ready."
    She offers her right hand, bracelets letting out a soft clatter of sound as they fall around her wrist with the motion. "It has been a pleasure to meet you, Captain."
    A dark limo comes around the corner and pulls up at the curb next to them.

Captain America has posed:
    "The pleasure and honor is all mine, Ms. Sablinova." He accepts her hand and slips his left hand behind his back, then bows even as he lifts her hand, maintaining eye contact the while. Some people might dare a kiss, but not Steve Rogers, at least not under these circumstances. He straightens and steps back as the limousine comes around, just in case a bodyguard might be getting antsy at his closeness to his charge.
    Yet all the while assuredly there is some sort of spirit animal with qualities akin to the Tony Starks of the world lamenting Cap's utter lack of 'game' as it were. But Steve, he seems alright with how things are. "A good evening to you." He gives a nod and returns his hands to his pockets.