1963-06-19 - Smart Money
Summary: Phil Coulson and Armando talk sports, and touch on politics.
Related: None
Theme Song: None
darwin coulson 

He's been up for hours already, but the draw of coffee on this somewhat bleary Sunday morning has Agent Coulson changing plans. While the intent had been to check in with HQ, there is a stop he'd been meaning to make for a while. And lo! It's on the way to where he's headed.

Agent Phillip Coulson is driving a cherry red, almost new '62 Corvette that has clearly been babied quite a lot. The car is pulled onto the side of the street across from the diner and the engine is shut down. Once he's stepped out of the vehicle, he squints his eyes at it and then leans in to buff out a smudge on the otherwise immaculate paintjob with his tie. With a small amount of muttering, he turns and walks towards the diner.

*Ding!* the bell on the door tolls as Phil pushes the door open and walks into the place. Where he stands near the door in his charcoal grey suit is a great vantage point to get the 'lay of the land', as it were. He's wearing shades at the moment and looks very much the G-Man, but the eyes behind those shades scan over the patrons here.

Among those patrons is one Armando Munoz- a 'person of interest' ever since a little report titled 'Darwin the Evolving Boy' had been published sometime in the last five years. A mutant who's physiology had advanced evolutionary science by decades- and who seemingly evolved to survive any situation. Today, he's wearing a new suit- custom tailored and looks rather well-to-do, despite the obvious mutation. He's not ugly to look at, but he certainly falls within 'alien'.

Armando is sitting alone at a table with a carafe of coffee and a small stack of newspapers- The Wall Street Journal, Business Times, and of course the New York Times and the Daily Bugle- each folded to perfection as he reads the papers. He's sat in a quiet corner- not visible from the street, and partially hidden by his papers. The waitstaff seem to know him- he's a regular.

A light smile etches its way across his lips as his eyes settle on Darwin. Taking off his shades, Coulson tucks them away before he starts making his way over to the table adjacent to where Armando is sitting. While he's certainly a person of interest, it's not likely that he's been filed under 'dangerous'. Not bringing a newspaper in himself means that he's got less cover for observation here. Turning, he faces Armando more completely and brings forth a warm smile. "Hate to be a bother, but you wouldn't happen to have the sports section, would you?" His gaze shifts from the well-dressed mutant to the pile of newspapers he has sitting nearby.

Armando looks up, smiling to Coulson as he approaches. "Sure," he says, folding the paper he's reading currently- The Wallstreet Journal. He offers over the New York Times. "The Sunday Edition has a great sports section." he says, offering the whole paper. "Help yourself."

He seems friendly sort, Armando- pouring himself some more coffee. "What's your sport of choice?" he wonders, with an easy smile- his newspaper put aside for the moment.

"I'm more of a baseball guy myself," Coulson explains, settling his elbows up on the table he's sitting at. As the copy of the New York Times is offered forth, he reaches out to take it from him. "Thanks." For a moment, he considers the other man as he opens up the paper.

"So what's your sport of choice?" he asks, keeping the paper folded down so he can make eye contact with Armando. As the waitress comes around, Phil holds up a finger to Armando and smiles up at the woman. "Coffee, please. Do you have bagels? I'll have one of those. Light on the cream cheese." When the waitress walks off, he moves his attention back to Armando.

"I'm a Yankees man- unfortunately, smart money is on the Dodgers this year." Armando offers simply, "My pleasure, of course." he says regarding the paper. "Yankees will take the championship, but they'll lose the world series." shakes his head quietly, "A shame, really. Would much rather see another Yankees win." he chuckles, "The numbers just don't match up, though. I'm Armando- nice to meet you."

There's a squnit of his eyes that's almost a faint wince. "Well, I'm hopeful for the Mets myself, but I'm a Braves fan myself. They might just give your Dodgers a run for their money, hmm? That Hank Aaron…" The Braves, at this time, are in Milwaukee, Wisconsin as any fan might know. "I'm warming up to the Yankees, though." For the moment, he doesn't even peek at the paper, but instead introduces himself as well, reaching out his hand to offer to the man. "Phil," he replies.

Armando takes Phil's hand and gives it a firm shake. "Sandy Koufax is going to take the Dodgers to the World Series." he states with a certainty few could muster. "I wouldn't be surprised if Koufax is named MVP- but, that I can't be certain of." he continues with a little grin. "A pleasure to meet you, Phil. Are you from Wisconsin originally?"

"I've got a nice, crisp five dollars that says you're wrong about that one," Phil replies with a challenging, but good-natured tone. "You sound awfully sure, though. I might be getting hustled here. Are you a hustler?" The good nature doesn't leave his tone, really. When the waitress brings the coffee and bagel around a few minutes into the conversation, he thanks her before going about pouring a cup of coffee. "I spent some time in Wisconsin. I've spent time in a lot of places, though. I fought in the war."

"Oh, not a hustler at all. I'm looking at the numbers over this season, and the past several seasons." Armando explains, "Coupled with a bit of research into what is known about the personal lives of the sports stars in question. I do a lot of reading in my spare time." he explains, with a little grin. "Oh, well, thanks for that." he offers when Phil mentions he fought in the war. "I appreciate your sacrifice. Thank you." Armando has always found politeness to go a long way- particularly when you don't look exactly human. "Do you mind if I ask what you do now?"

A short laugh emits from Coulson's lips in response to Armando's words. "Well, you sound like you really do your homework," he says with an incline of his head in a nod. "I'll take your word for it, but my money's still on Hank and the Braves." Armando is studied closely, though more in a fascinated manner than the rude sort of staring one might encounter. "Oh, all the cool kids were getting enlisted. I did it for the ladies. Now? Oh, I still work for the government. More of a middle-management type, truth be told."

"Oh, that's pretty neat." Armando offers, "That's real good work. The Government pays well, and has wonderful benefits." he nods simply. "And its easy to do the homework when you can memorize things pretty easily. Its evolutionarily beneficial to be able to memorize things, and the cost-benefit ratio is pretty far into the benefit area." he says, as if that would make any sense. "I tend to retain most things I read pretty well." Armando then changes the subject back to Phil- "Hopefully the middle-management position isn't interfering with the ladies, at least."

"Oh, I don't know about the government paying well," Phil replies with a genuinely amused laugh. "Once you find your calling, you tend to stick to it. That's been my experience, anyways." The older man sets the paper to the side finally and lifts his mug of coffee to sip from it. "So that's what you do, is it? You adapt." There's a nod of his head to that as well as a bit of genuine interest there. "As for the ladies, that was a while ago. I was engaged once. It didn't work out, sadly. I'm married to my work."

"Yep. I'm not just a pretty face." Armando says, "Although, all humans may look like I do, some day. There are theories on it. Little good the future does me now." Armando offers with a little grin. "Although, to be honest, I do more than adapt. I evolve. Put me in a room with no light, I can see in the dark. Put me in the water, I evolve gills. Put me into fire and I evolve a method to live in it."

"Sorry to hear that, Phil. I'd quote the old adage about love and lost, but I'm not so sure I agree with it."

Another light chuckle is given in response to Armando's quip. "It's an interesting theory, sure," he says finally. "I'd think there'd be a number of factors that go into that sort of thing, but I leave that sort of thing up to the science people." He pauses briefly before speaking again. "I'm not science people." Another sip of coffee is taken then before he sets the mug down once more.

"There's some truth to it," he says, nodding. "but it's a subjective one. She's definitely a special lady."

"There are, certainly. Evolution is an interesting thing." Armando offers simply. "I'm afraid I wouldn't know much about it. Maybe soon, though." he says, with an easy smile. He doesn't further bring up the subject of women. He takes another sip of his coffee, enjoying the casual conversation. "Yeah, Alfred, Lord Tennyson really had a way with words. Although, I do believe that's his most quoted line from any of his poems. Or, at least, one of the best known- he's pretty widely quoted, to be honest."

Phil seems happy enough to drop the subject of women for the time being and stick to the conversation at hand. There's a wrinkling of his nose at the mention of poetry, though not necessarily out of distaste. "I'm not as versed in poetry, I'm afraid. I love an orchestra, though. Opera?" He gives a so-so gesture with his hand. "Hit or miss. I suppose art speaks to people in different ways. That's what makes it so interesting."

"The Arts certainly do. Lots of culture here in New York, luckily." Armando says with a smile. "Everything from Ballet to Broadway. I'd go more often, but I feel its rude to the actors a lot of the time. The sort of people who attend high culture events are typically not the sort who rub elbows with mutants." he says with a quiet shrug, "Its just the sort of culture we live in, unfortunately. It'll change, soon enough."

Coulson gives a subtle nod of his head to the mutant man and smiles at him in return. "Disguise," he suggests in a casual sort of manner. "Things will change eventually, but a man shouldn't be robbed of passion because he was born different." A bite is taken from the bagel, though he doesn't look particularly impressed by it. "On the one hand, you really do have to acknowledge peoples' fears. There are good and bad people everywhere and a lot of in-between. Some people are being born with guns for hands and no one really understands why. Scary times for people." He just shrugs, however, not seeming particularly concerned himself.

"Its one of our age's great questions." Armando replies, "Why, exactly, is this happening now? Has it always been happening, and only now is it at a rate or occurring often enough that we can't pass it off as a fluke or did something happen in the recent past to trigger this?" Armando says, "And people are indeed afraid- they can't help that. I absolutely understand it- but at the same time, I should be able to expect those same people to behave in a civilized, and open minded manner. None of us asked for this- it was a straight genetic lottery that ended up with a big win or a big lose depending on your opinion. I shouldn't be treated differently because of my genes, and the American people are absolutely capable of such simple civility."

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