7705/I Just Wanted Pizza

I Just Wanted Pizza
Date of Scene:	02 June 2019
Location:	Angelo's Pizza - Brooklyn
Synopsis:	Racists didn't count on Chato. Chato didn't count on Adam. Sibil just wanted pizza.
Cast of Characters:	Blue Marvel, Diablo, Sibilance

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Blue Marvel has posed:
Inside Angelo's Pizza it's cool and the air is saturated with cheese, garlic, pizza dough and marinara sauce. Strangely for a Saturday night, there are not that many people inside. A black man in his 30's or 40's sits by himself in a booth with a cup of coffee and an empty plate. Three teens are joking around near the main counter with one of the staff, a friend of theirs. A young Persian couple is sitting close together near the window, both men clean cut, trendy and eating pizza. From the sound of it, there are a few people in the backroom where the arcade games and the pool table is.

Outside the air is stuff. People stream past the big front window of Angelo's in both directions, strolling along through the early evening.

Diablo has posed:
Chato "El Diablo" Santana, a Mexican-American gangster fresh on the scene in New York City, steps through the doorway of Angelo's Pizza with a jingle of the bell placed pointedly above the door. He's wearing his standard bowling jacket and jeans, his tattoos in clear display, although he doesn't have the gun in his belt marking him as a shooter or in the commission of a dangerous act. His baleful eyes sweep through the business as he slides his hands into the pockets of his perhaps unusually placed jacket, tilting his brow forward like a monk and moving to the counter.

There's a brief handsignal from his forefinger, thumb held in a formed neutral to be noticed, and a gesture at the kitchen. A brief conversation occurs, in low Spanish, with the cashier, before Chato sidles over to the doorway to the backroom, leaning against a wall and lowering his head like an old cowboy on a Texan range. Soon, a chef emerges, with a chuckle and a nod, Chato gracing him with a faint smile that warps the skull tattoo around his mouth.

Sibilance has posed:
Chime chime. Sibil shows up in her black work outfit, with a coat over the shirt. She steps up to the counter and lifts a hand to wave at the staff behind it. She digs her wallet out of her pocket and pulls out a simple debit card, and leans against the counter, prepared to order something with a TexMex flavor combination, since they're doing a special for late spring. She ignores the other customers, as often she draws stares and she doesn't want to bother with gawkers.

Santana got no more than a wary glance, from what little she would've seen of him. A mutant that looks as obviously inhuman as she does won't linger with eye contact too long.

Blue Marvel has posed:
The three teens look down and away when Chato comes in and do not go back to making noise until Chato is talking with the chef. The teens notice Sibil though. They elbow each other, the shortest of them, with spiky brown hair, taps on his phone and the three start snickering as they watch something online. The couple at the window barely register his entrance or Sibil's.

The teen behind the counter who was joking with his friends comes over to Sibil when she walks up. He is nearly six feet tall, with acne on his forehead.

"Welcome to Angelo's, what can I get you?" the teen asks Sibil. A middle-aged man who is also behind the counter steals a couple glances at Sibil while cleaning.

A woman in her mid-twenties with died blonde hair past her shoulders comes out of the backroom. She is wearing a black blouse with a diving neckline, ripped blue jeans and heels. She looks Chato up and down with a playful smirk, turning a bit to keep looking at him as she passes him. Then she turns toward the front counter.

"Oh my god!" she shrieks when she sees Sibil and comes to a full-stop, her eyes-wide. She backs up, nearly backs into Chato and half-trots into the backroom. The sounds of guys joking around stop.

Diablo has posed:
Chato Santana pulls a pair of fifty dollar bills out of his pocket, between his fore and middle finger, and offers them to the right hand of the chef, with a calm outward extension. The chef accepts the money, before looking at the beautiful blonde emerging from the backroom. Chato follows his gaze, a sly smile on his face returning the smirk, his head tilting to follow her as she moves past with a slight shift of his chin. He makes a kissy face, and the cook laughs at the gesture, Chato looking back and cuffing him on the shoulder.

Then, at the shout of the woman, he looks up with sleepy alarm, his eyebrows knitting together. Chato flags the cook into the kitchen rapidly, sensing trouble, the cook responding by moving back into the prep room with a hollow bang of the door. As the blonde moves past, he pulls his arms up hurriedly, palms showing and fingers spread, following the object of her alarm. He sees the snake woman, not the least bit offended.

He senses trouble, however, and looks about the pizzeria, spotting the three teenagers that had hushed when he came in. He shoots them a dangerous look, not necessarily in the mood to intervene, but not willing to be present for something that might make the police blotters. Or, alternately, give him a bad word around the neighborhood if he does nothing.

Sibilance has posed:
Sibilance calmly ignores the teenagers. Their giggles and such aren't her problem. She looks off with a brief startle toward the melodramatic shout of the lone woman, but breathes a puffing sigh at the commotion. Her gaze returns upward to the teenager behind the counter. Her eyes fixate on the teen and scan his surface thoughts to make sure he's not thinking of doing anything youthfully reckless.

"Pepperoni, small. To-go." She puts her card on the counter. It's labeled 'Ainsley Garcia,' and it's from some east coast credit union. She has a Spanish accent and a quiet voice.

She doesn't seem affected yet. Stupid kids will be stupid kids.

Blue Marvel has posed:
The teen serving Ainsley is not thinking a lot about her other than that mild disinterest that often comes from men when talking with a woman they do not consider sexually attractive.
"Sure, one sec. Just tap when you're ready," the teen says. When the blonde woman shrieks he looks up at her in confusion, at Ainsley, and back to the woman. The two men up front look over their shoulders and the black man in the booth looks up from his coffee. The teens look up from their video and gawk at the woman.

While the woman has disappeared into the back room, her voice comes back in overly hysterical tones.

Three guys comes out of the back room. The first about 5'11", bald with tattoos up his arms and the side of his neck. 'FOH' is inked in gothic script in his left forearm entwined with bleeding vines. He wears boots, jeans and a tight Under Armour shirt over an all too obviously juiced frame. The man behind him is well over 6', barrel chested with an out of control beard of dark brown hair, boots, jeans, and a black t-shirt with FoH on the front, a dagger piercing the 'o'. The third is a wiry guy just shorter than the first who wears black cargo pants, boots and a Remember New York t-shirt.

"Hey freak, you! Look at me, I'm fucking talking to you!" the first yells at Sibil after passing by Chato. The three men come up to Sibil. And look her up and down with sneers. "The fuck are you doing here, bitch? Freaks don't get to eat real fucking food with real people."

The teen serving Ainsley puts her pizza down on the counter. The first guy swats toward it to knock it onto the floor.

Diablo has posed:
Chato Santana melts into the scenary with a faint sidle to let the three honchos pass, emitting a long suffering sigh. He watches, with quiet, glazed eyes, as the trio of hooligans harass Sibilance, the slap of the pizza onto the floor earning a grind of his jaw to the side and a shift of his tightly closed lips. He spends time, watching and listening, as he makes up his mind on what to do. He doesn't want any trouble with these locals, the last thing he needs is the Friends of Humanity tagging into the cops and working with the Maggia and their police affiliates that he's after in the slums.

But he detected the Latin accent on the Mutant's lips.

"'ey, homes, you solving a mystery?" he speaks up, from behind the trio, leaning against the wall with his Converse sneaker's heel up against the wall, watching them in a neutral fashion.

"Sherlock just figured out how he should be eating?"

Sibilance has posed:
Ainsley mostly ignores the hysterics from the strange woman. She just orders her pizza, hoping to be left alone for the day. But then she's boxed in, and her pizza ends up knocked to the floor, the box clattering. She glances down, more interested in the contents surviving. She doesn't say anything at first, her eyes half-lidding. She looks up to the burly man. She's silent, for a second. Then Chato decides to intervene. Her eyes flick over to him, her brows lifted. The multitude of tattoos tells her immediately that he's a gang member, and his confidence is intimidating.

She doesn't engage the thugs. She just kneels to try to pick up her pizza and check its integrity, then stand up with the box once she discovers it's still plenty edible. She's eaten worse.

"Excuse me," she says to the one blocking her path away and to the exit.

Blue Marvel has posed:
The wiry guy snickers when Ainsley kneels down to pick up her pizza.

"You're scaring people, you shouldn't out of your fucking cage," baldie snarls. "Hey, are fucking deaf? You all dressed up, think you're something?"

The bearded man steps right into Ainsley's way, in her space. "We're not done with you yet."

"Get out of here before I call the police," the middle aged man behind the counter complains. Baldie points a warning finger at the man, who shuts up. Baldie starts to say something but is cut off when Chato speaks. He whirls, and seems to notice Chato for the first time. He sizes Chato up.

"Mind your own fucking business, Lopez," he snarks.

The black man in the booth gets up with his coffee cup in hand and starts walking toward the main counter. He looks tired, in a brown suit with elbow patches and black man rimmed glasses. The teens have backed up to the far end of the counter, 'discreetly' filming on one phone. The couple up front quietly make their exit. One of the two men shoots Ainsley a sympathetic look before leaving.

Diablo has posed:
"Cute," Chato replies quietly, smiling and looking at the ground. There's a flash, a snick, and a charge, as Chato Santana draws a butterfly knife and snaps it into position while taking a step, before he throws himself forwards.

Chato Santana goes for the mountain of a man, the bald one that juices, with the tattoo, judging him to be the leader. His left arm whips out, alongside his left leg in the charge, his hand slapping for flesh to ram his following right side into the musclebound human supremacist.

Then comes the knife, thrusting upwards from the side as he slaps flesh to flesh between them, the shorter man taking advantage of his lower center of gravity to get under the guard and jam the blade into the left floating rib.

El Diablo doesn't make a single sound, behind an inhuman growl that takes on a supernatural quality that one would equate with a demon.

Sibilance has posed:
Ainsley stares with lidded eyes up at them. She stares at the man that blocks her way right in the eyes almost without blinking. Her gaze says it all. It says that she's contemplating breaking his neck. The preturnatural stillness of her body is chilling. She is clearly not afraid of them.

Her head turns almost imperceptibly. She doesn't do anything to stop Chato, and mostly just shifts her weight backward to observe the angry gangster's path toward his prey. Sibil is not a merciful soul toward those that have chosen hate. But she isn't going to do anymore harm to them than they bring on themselves by trying to fight this clearly homicidal lunatic.

"I just wanted pizza," she complains under her breath.

Blue Marvel has posed:
Chato closes the distance fast. Baldie was not actually expecting a fight from him and is caught off-balance. He grabs at Chato and then stumbles backwards three steps. He touches his side with one hand and it comes up bloody.

"What the... You fucking stabbed me?" he asks, sounding confused. He blanches.

Everything is quiet and still for an instant. Then a gun shot rings out from toward the backroom. The blonde woman is there with a look of pure violent hate in her eyes. She has the stance of someone who has been shown what to do on the range, and the aim of someone who spends no time there. Her shot buries itself in the paneling of the main counter, clearly intended for Chato.

The gunshot breaks the spell. The big bearded guy had been looming over Ainsley, looking down at her. His face had been starting to register confusion at her strange non-reaction, until Baldie was stabbed and the shot goes off. His face sours and he starts to storm toward Chato, without regard for the fact Ainsley is in his way. The wiry guy reaches into his pocket and comes up with a knife. He glances between Ainsley and Chato with a dancing light in his eyes that was not present until things went sideways. He is /excited/. He makes his decision and starts to sidle toward Ainsley, knife at the ready and squared off toward Chato.
    "Holy shit!" yells one of the teens. They drop to the ground and scoot behind the side of the counter. The middle aged man pushes the teen who served Ainsley through the door into the kitchen.

The man in the brown suit flicks his wrist towards the woman with the gun and his coffee cup is gone. He walks slowly toward Ainsley, watching the Friends of Humanity and Chato warily.

Diablo has posed:
Chato Santana shifts backwards as the bald 'roidhead backs off, grinning darkly, his knife dripping with the red.

But as the gunshot rings out, Chato is startled, hunching his shoulder up and looking behind him in shock. With the bearded man storming him, the third man a foregone conclusion at this, Chato has no choice but to act like a flying fish, or end up like a roast pig.

There's a shift as he twists about on his stance, a squeak from his shoes, to face the blonde with the gun, not even showing a moment's mercy as he acts to strip the threat to his personal survival.

"Bitch!" he shouts as he sticks out his left hand with spread fingers, a jet of white-orange fire shooting out of his palm and in her direction. It's enough flame and heat to cook her, aimed at her face and chest, to send her slaloming back into the billiards room as an overcooked meatloaf.

The bearded man behind him, meanwhile, has the drop on him, El Diablo's back to the storming man while he deals with the gun-wielding woman. His butterfly knife is still in his right hand, glistening bloody with lover's sap.

Sibilance has posed:
Ainsley looks pretty nonplussed by the situation as it draws to a proper level of violence all without her lifting a finger or saying a word to cause it. She widens her eyes and wilts her mouth at the sound of a gunshot. But she does something rather surprising as the man near her tries to bowl her over. She steps with a certain about of grace to get out of his way, and curls her tail around one of his ankles and pulls as she steps away. She takes a few steps like a clumsy dancer with more agility than talent, turns to clear the room with a few hopping strides, and place her pizza on a table at the edge to pull out her phone.

She promptly calls the police. "Hello, officer? Gang violence... Friends of Humanity and some meta. He's defending himself." She rattles off the address, and her name. She isn't really interested in getting involved personally, and jeopardize her place in SHIELD. But now she has an excuse to stay on the scene. "Oi! Vato! (Leave some of them alive if you can, or it's gonna be hard to repay you for this. You were defending my life, even if that's not what this is about, I don't want you punished for that,)" Sibilance rattles off toward Chato in Spanish, after his fire blast toward the woman.

Blue Marvel has posed:
A coffee mug explodes as it hits the woman with the gun in the chest with enough force to push back onto her heels and start to fall. Chato's hand comes up and fire erupts. There is a brown blur. For an instant the man in the brown suit can be seen standing between Chato and the woman, then a black... void... appears between Chato and the man. The void devours the flames.

Baldie backs up against the main counter, slumping and going whiter. The bearded man did not even know Ainsley had a tail much less that he should watch out for it. His foot comes up fast and his momentum tugs at Ainsley. He rotates forward and goes face first into the floor, not even able to get his hands out in front of him. There is a sickening wet sound when he hits.

The wiry guy looks shocked when the bearded man goes down. He kneels beside him. The 911 operator starts plying Ainsley with a million questions. Then the wiry guy pops up to his feet and charges towards Ainsley, knife in hand. His eyes are completely wild.

Diablo has posed:
Chato Santana frowns as the void opens and swallows the flames, lifting his hand after a full thirty seconds of blasting fire into it. Smoke rises from his fingertips as he stares at the hole in space, perplexed, hearing Sibilance's words in Spanish and not looking at her. "<Alright, lady, but I'm not going to be here when the cops show. I'm not exactly legal, in more ways than two.>"

El Diablo steps past the wounded bald man, nonplussed, right over his ankles, one after the other, as the skinny fighter goes after Ainsley with his back to Chato. Chato points with his left hand and a rush of fire plumes up from the ground from beneath the man, cooking the linoleum floor into toxic vapor. It's a brief rush of heat and incendiary blaze, nothing more, but it's meant to dissuade the assailant.

"<I'm on my way out,>" he adds, in Spanish, although his walk is casual, not even close to running. His grip tightens, however, around his knife, not knowing what he's dealing with behind him.

Sibilance has posed:
"(Stay out of trouble,)" Ainsley answers Chato, with her phone down so that the 911 operator isn't getting into trouble. She's not gonna stop the man, especially when he does as she asks. When she notices the telltale signs of some other familiar powers over from another individual, she is briefly distracted by it, but it's not like she's in any position to criticize what he just did. Preventing human harm is pretty noble and she flashes a brief smile at the sight of it.

But she lifts the phone back up to her face and sits down in her seat. "Look I don't know who these people are, I was just trying to get some pizza and a fight broke out," she explains, and she is not technically lying about that. "I'll stick around to give a statement but you better get here quick, one of them's bleeding, and I think another's unconscious. Going to need some ambulances."

She gives a pointed look to the wild-eyed, wiry man, and shuts off the call. Then she says, "You sit the hell down right now," and points to a nearby chair. "You will lose that knife somewhere creative if you try to use it on me."

Blue Marvel has posed:
The void, a sort of non-light, shimmers and waves and vanishes. The woman is on the floor curled up and crying, clutching her chest. Her gun is a lump of slag on the lino. Adam frowns, watching Chato. His eyes flick towards Ainsley and narrow as he recognizes her, then he looks back to Chato. The floor flares under the wiry man who yells in alarm and skids up against a table. Instead of bloodlust, now it's fear. He licks his lips when Ainsley warns him and stays put. His muscles tense, caught between running and giving up.

Baldie sits down heavily on the floor against the counter and watches in growing shock driven perplexity as Chato walks past him.

Adam points at Chato warningly. "That's enough," he says quietly, almost absurdly.

Diablo has posed:
There's a flicker-snap as Chato closes and pockets his bloody butterfly knife in his blue bowling jacket. A middle finger goes up behind him, thumb out in the standard position of masculine dominance that indicates Catholic roots. "Back off, Santo Jude."

Chato Santana circles around the table Sibilance is on, a neutral but swift walk gaining pace as he heads for the door. "You tell the cops that I wasn't even here, chica. Just some guy ordering a pizza that got pepperoni on the floor."

With that, he pushes the door to open it, looking back over the distance, at Adam, with a challenge and a frown.

Sibilance has posed:
Ainsley doesn't answer Chato. She just glances at him, letting him leave for now, while digging a slice of half-smushed pizza from the box she was gonna walk out with. She takes a bite and looks back to the squirrely fellow that seems to be considering his escape plan. "I don't think you're leaving, muchacho," she tells him, "Not with that boyscout standing guard. Just sit down and mind your Ps and Qs. Here." She slaps a piece of pizza on the table next to the guy. "Eat. Stay a while."

She makes the 'cut it out' motion at Adam after this, as if hinting that she wants him to let Chato leave for now. She doesn't want this devolving into a fight between two metahumans, which confronting Chato will inevitably be.

That'd be even more difficult to explain.