6558/Just Doing Science, Don't Mind Me.

Just Doing Science, Don't Mind Me.
Date of Scene:	18 February 2019
Location:	New York City
Synopsis:	Arella and Steve cross paths on the street outside of the mansion. No violence ensues, but students from rival campuses colliding in a snowfall of papers provide enough 'tribal' entertainment for all.
Cast of Characters:	Arella Despana, Captain America

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Arella Despana has posed:
It's midday and Arella Despana is following some interesting readings that she is recieving in a customised hand held device that appears to be a tablet that has an alien growth attached to it. She has made her way to the Avengers mansion. Not entirely aware of where she is. If she was it is likely she would not be here. She is wearing a summer hat to cover her ears but given her blue grey skin and larger than normal emerald eyes her non human origins are pretty easy to discern. At the moment she is lost in the crowd focused on what she is doing. "I wonder why my device is doing that?" she asks herself as she gets nearer to the Mansion.

Captain America has posed:
With this particular day being more forgiving in terms of weather and - shockingly - Steve not drawn into any sort of office work or issues on nation- or world-wide scale, the man himself is walking back from buying a bagel at one of the local coffee shops nearby. Tony's still stocking the best whole bean blend the Captain's had in his very long life, so there's just the small brown bag holding an Everything bagel and two packets of cream cheese. In his brown aviator jacket with shearling lapels and black baseball cap, he's attempting to remain somewhat anonymous. The staff at the coffee shop know him well enough not to blow his cover, but every once and a while, someone does want a selfie.

He meanders through the pedestrian traffic along the sidewalk as he goes, just another New Yorker in the crowd, but he's vigilent out of long habit -- and the sight of blue skin is enough to make him pull up short, if off to one side and out of the way of immediate flow of walkers. However, rather than reacting immediately in the negative, the blond soldier simply walks up, wearing a small and polite smile.

"You lost?" he asks, his body language loose and relaxed at least to the everyday passerby.

Arella Despana has posed:
Arella is a quick study and whilst she has not been on Midgard long at a glance she can recognise one of the most famous heros on the planet. Further she connects the dots and realises why she was getting the strange readings. It was evenly likely Thor or someone else who will be just thrilled to see her might be nearby. Best to make tracks. But she could spare a few minutes to simply be polite.

"No sorry," Arella answers Steve. "I just was observing some strange readings and I think with your appearance that their source might have just made itself known. You are Steve Rogers and this is Avenger Mansion?" The Elf asks. She already knows the answer.

Captain America has posed:
Those blue eyes travel down and up the Elf's personage with not an ounce of leer in intention -- if anything, it's as detached as any medical professional and moreso keen as someone very used to categorizing threats on the fly.

"Depends on who's asking," replies Steve in a quiet and continued diplomatic tone. "Were you looking for someone in particular?" He shifts his weight in his stance and continues standing there, appearing nonplussed as not to garner any extra attention to their conversation. "I wasn't aware of any guests to the area. What is your name?"

Arella Despana has posed:
"I am no guest. I am not welcome here at all. Ahr'ela Despa'nah or Arella Despana." She manages a small bow as she surrenders her name. A Svartalfar. The now pretty much extinct race that drove the Asgard close to extinction. And Arella is an exceptionally infamous member of said race. She recently crashed to Earth in Canada. Was held prisoner. Released to Lex to work in Lex Corp. Had a run in with Thor in the interim there which did not go well.

Captain America has posed:
"Miss Despana." The Captain nods to her enough to dip the bill of his baseball hat. "I remember your name. Thor of Asgard submitted a report to us about you. I'm Captain Rogers, yes," he finally allows, his smile not having changed in the least. It remains mild and well-mannered.

"Are you searching for something with your technology?" He does seem curious rather than interrogatory, though his regard lingers longer on the tablet in Arella's hand.

Arella Despana has posed:
"Arella please - Despana is a h House name. Not really the same as a Surname. I bet I got a glowing review in the report? I was simply curious asa to the anomaly in my readings. I think my curiousity has been satiated."

"I've been looking for signs of Alien technology around the city on par with my peoples. I guess I just want to know what else is out there. Midgard is interesting in the large variety of Aliens and mutants it seems to attract. Hardly a backwater anymore. If I still had a functioning ship I think I might have flown far away from here. Intreresting is rarely good,"

Captain America has posed:
"Sometimes, 'interesting' can mean trouble, yes," the Captain agrees. He glances over at the sound of briefly raised voices, but it's the usual short exchange of pleasantries that most New Yorkers engage in at least once a week if not once a day, and he dismisses it shortly thereafter.

"The world has certainly changed since I was young. You're saying that I cropped up in your readings? Or you're tracking something different? Dunno if I can help you with any technology." The first true suspicion bleeds through in how faint crow's-feet appear at the corners of his eyes. "I'll be honest with you, the report I got didn't paint you in a good light."

Arella Despana has posed:
"The truth is worse than Odinson can ever know. But I was active before his time some five thousand years ago and have changed greatly since. But I cannot reasonably expect him to understand that and so I must remain a non entity under the radar so to speak."

Arella watches the crowd as she continues, "No supersoldiers in my readings. I don't need readings what I can see for myself," Arella smiles at Steve. An unusual expression for a Dark Elf. But Steve may not know this.

Captain America has posed:
"Hmph." It's not an unkind sound, but more a laugh slipping past his cool demeanor and thinned lips. "Either you're observant or you knew who I was before you even asked." The Captain mirrors Arella's scan of the crowd once more and, again seeing no familiar faces or no particularly-attentive focus upon them, he returns his gaze to her.

"When you say alien technology, what do you mean? Given you know who I am, you can probably deduce that I'm not your best source of information." Steve can at least make wry fun of himself in this.

Arella Despana has posed:
"Alloys, energy sources basic and not so basic stuff," Arella explains. "My ship was not is such great condition when I crashed into Canada. There was not much to salvage and now Alpha Flight has it all. So I cannot use salvage from it. There are things I might need to repair. Namely me. I have.... augmentations." Arella lets that revelation slip.

Captain America has posed:
Those wheat-gold eyebrows rise to disappear beneath the angle of the hat's brim. "Alpha Flight wasn't able to help you with any of that?" Again, Steve's simply curious if there's an alternative explanation for events. He's aware also that Captain Danvers has dealt with the Elf in the near past, if only through hear-tell rather than direct contact. "I'm surprised," he further admits with a small shake of his head.

Arella Despana has posed:
"Alpha Flight probably don't want to. Beyond refusing to indefinitely detain and or kill me they felt no need to assist or trust me on any level. I guess I should be grateful. But I am beleaguered by setbacks as a result." Arella shrugs. "You reap what you sow. I guess. Even if it is thousands of years later."

Captain America has posed:
"Hindsight is twenty-twenty." The Captain nods, not meaning the comment unkindly. "You mentioned augmentation. You don't mean you've got a broken arm, I bet." Again, his eyes travel over Arella without anything more than polite interest in mind. "What exactly do you mean?"

Nearby, another little row breaks out, this time between two college students who bumped into one another. Papers are strewn and despite the other people walking around the spread of pages, there are some serious words flowing. Steve glances over at this and frowns, but decides, for now, to continue his conversation at hand.

Arella Despana has posed:
"Some things are best shown rather than spoken of and I do not want to create a scene here. My augmentations are military. I wanted to replace the Kursed in the Svartalfar military with something more... reasonable."

Arella watches the dispute, "Aren't you going to play hero and stop the fight?"

Captain America has posed:
Steve looks away from Arella, but only after a lingering consideration of her person again. He isn't yet aware of what the Kursed may be, but a discussion with Thor is being mentally penciled in on his calendar the next he sees the king of Asgard.

"They're throwing words, not fists. See how they've already stopped talking to one another anyways? Normal street-spat. No one's at risk of a bloody nose." The last few pieces of paper are gathered up and shoved away into a manila folder while the other student crams them into the backpack now firmly zipped rather left akimbo as before. Not a fist thrown, but definitely a rude gesture from the one who then jogs for the city bus, nearly ready to leave its stop. "Alright, they're throwing signs at each other too," Steve amends drily. "Dunno who you're going to find here on earth to help you with that, if it's military work from another world entirely," he then continues, eyeing Arella. "Can't say that I've ever met anyone from the Svaltalfar community."

Arella Despana has posed:
"We're all gone. There is no Svartalfar community. Just some of us haven't got the message yet. The body is dead but the mind still lingers. Many who knew us would say good riddance." Arella smiles at that last observation. "Perhaps I agree with them." Looking at the students retreating, "That seemed fierce and positively tribal - but I have little experience with human behaviour. If I live long enough mayhap I will learn."

Captain America has posed:
Steve nods thoughtfully. "Tribal's a good way to describe it. Competing campuses," he explains. "You can tell by the logo. It's fierce around here sometimes." His smile deepens briefly before smoothing out to that stubbornly well-mannered mask once more.

"If we're being honest with one another, you're a survivor. You'll live long enough to figure it all out. Contact Alpha Flight again, see if they have any personnel who could help you with your medical needs," he suggests. The brown paper bag shifts in his hands. The bagel's gone cold, but oh well -- that's what the toaster is for in the mansion. "Sounds like they still have your ship regardless."

Arella Despana has posed:
"A survivor? Perhaps - but to what end?" Arella asks cynically. "Survival for survivals sake perhaps?" Shrugging again, "Sounds like an exercise in futility."

"I think barring some miracle I'll be writing off my ship. And the possibility of help from Alpha Flight."

Captain America has posed:
"Survival for the sake of hope. If you truly don't stand for what your people may have in the past, you could be the start of a new beginning. Gonna give up just like that?" By Steve's cynical little smile, he doesn't believe that the Elf will.

In his pants pocket, his phone suddenly goes off. It's a brilliant little ring of chimes and as he pulls it out, he's already grimacing. "Arella -- sorry, I have to take this. World never stops turning. Good luck with your search." He lifts the hand holding the bagel-bag in what amounts to a parting wave and then has the phone to his ear as he disappears off into a thicker part of the crowd walking down the street to become just a face in New York once again.