|
  |
Frank Castle has managed to escape in the mayhem, while sharp eyed kitchen personnel managed to evade a disaster by swatting the bottle of vegetable oil away before it can land on the stove. Though Frank Castle made his escape, at least the restaurant itself didn't go up in flames.
The Winsome Wasp slowly starts to recover, sitting up on the table where she crashed, entirely drenched in hot garlic sauce, she whines in disgust, "eeeew," as she wipes away some of the sauce off herself, her wings shift cautiously in a bit of a flutter to get rid of more of that sauce. Needless to say, she's glad nobody from the Avengers was there to witness her carelessness catch up with her.
*
At least the unfortunate cook with a serious burn is alive, shoved into the arms of a redheaded girl who, in a few years, would definitely classify as a hippie. Scarlett manages not to fall over despite him being thrown at her, and the pair of them go staggering back to the wall, a short distance away. "Get that under water," she suggests immediately, having a limited range of options for someone who nearly drowned and now happens to play with the other terrible element. She takes up the towel and runs over to douse it under the faucet, then looks about for wherever that tiny voice of the littlest Avenger might be. Of course, finding something so small is easier by sound, in some ways, than sight.
"Miss Wasp? Are you still around here, or have you gone off to assault that cretin?" French drips in disdain from her tongue in the last word; Scarlett isn't above mincing her thoughts, when it comes down to it. When the cook stumbles like he might out the back door, she snaps at him, "Water. Hand. Now!"
*
"Here on the table," Wasp answers, waving her arm, and sounding quite misreable, she slowly starts to stand up as she looks over herself with self pity, "great, it'll take forever to get that strong garlic scent to go away." She looks back at her wings as she flutters them some more, before reaching with a hand to try and get more of the sauce off, "I'm sorry, he caught me by surprise, I didn't expect that flying waterfall of sauce…I'll get him though. Just you wait and see."
*
Carrying over the dampened cloth, Scarlett edges towards the table. The rather unpleasant garlic scent is probably sufficient for her to locate, though the small figure getting up causes her to rather pause. Without any sense of overt discomfort, she drops down to a polite crouch, miniskirt somehow avoiding creeping up too high. "Here, this may help." Putting down the folded wet towel a brief distance away, she pokes the cotton as water drips out. "Terribly rude how he bothered you, much less attacked that fellow over there. I still suspect he's going to run out the door any moment. Do you wish for me to stop him while you clean up?"
A moment follows, and then she says, "I'm Scarlett. I attend Columbia."
*
"Thanks," Wasp is quick to say as she moves towards the soaked towel, standing underneath as if it was a shower head as Scarlett squeezes a few drops out over Wasp, "just put it down on the table, I'll use it to wash up, and…I don't think it's a good idea for you to go after that guy, Scarlett. He's dangerous, and I wager a fair bit unstable." She waits for Scarlett to put down the soaked cloth, before dropping into it and rolling about in it, "I'll inform the other Avengers, we'll keep an eye out for him."
*
"He is dangerous, though only in some ways. Besides, it will not help him. The address was shouted to everyone in here, which might be helpful if it comes down to it," points out the redhead helpfully, and she finishes up by grabbing a beaten metal mixing bowl and putting it down for Wasp. A bit more water on hand is easy enough to find. "If you would like me to turn around or see how everything outside is, simply let me know. The last thing I want is for you to be burned or embarrassed." The cloth and bowl are both settled, and she frowns at the commotion outside. "Even if he did run a few nasty things, the way he treated that cook…" Her mouth flattens. "How would these Avengers do it? The name sounds familiar, but I confess with everything going on, I have but a limited view of your activities and goals. What are you taking revenge on?"
*
"I doubt he lingered, but you can take a look just to see nobody outside needs help." Wasp says, before grinning at the mixing bowl with water offered as a makeshift bath, which she does uses for a quick fix up. She'll need to get back home ASAP for a proper wash, else she might stink of garlic sauce for a while. "You got the right idea, the docks is where we'll keep a look for him. You're very brave to get involved in this Scarlett, but do watch out for yourself." When Scarlett asks about the Avengers, Wasp comes out from a quick dip in the bowl, and flutters into the air, before sitting on the edge of the bowl, "well, there's no shortage of threats, Soviets, crazy people with nukes, and a stupid boxhead named MODOK, AIM, there's a bunch of others. We generally keep them honest. My personal favorite is zapping them in the face! Creeps."
*
Garlic is one of those scents that appeals when hungry and at no other time whatsoever. The young woman takes a quick look around the kitchen, and when the burn victim tries to run out the door, she bounds after him in four long steps and seizes his shoulder. A yelp and a curse in Mandarin are met by him being basically forced to sit in a folding chair while the manager bursts into the kitchen, shouting at the state of chaos, and pointing to Scarlett as the obvious interloper. He barks questions, to the tune of, "Where is he? Why are you in here?" and receives a short reply before running out.
"Aim. What on earth is that? Artificial Intelligence for Machines?" A guess at an acronym, how charming. "That man seemed angry enough, but I wouldn't wish to meet him in a dark alley."
*
"It's alright, it's alright, someone attacked your kitchen personnel, we stopped him," the Wasp calls out at the manager who shouts at Scarlett.
When Scarlett asks her a question, she answers, "close, I think it's more Advanced Idea Machines, or something like that, they are dangerous terrorists. Not just stupid squares." Feeling sufficiently refreshed for the time being, Wasp flutters over towards Scarlett, "so…do you do any martial arts? It was crazy to go after that man…do you have, erm, abilities?"
*
The definition does not keep a smile on the redhead's face. Instead, she frowns, giving Wasp a worried look. "Terrorists. I can imagine a few dangerous groups, but they are new to me. Anti-mutant groups, anti civil rights activists, the list goes on and on. I am sorry that you have so many difficulties to put on your plate." She does, however, hold out her hand in case Wasp wants to land, until it's quite apparent she has functional wings. Then the faux pas can blithely be overlooked, dropping her arm to her side.
"I know a bit of how to fight. More notably I know how to talk. Nothing like drowning someone to death in sound," she murmurs, a wry smile teasing her lips. The question, however, is a large looming element in the room. "Crazy, perhaps, but not for me. Unfortunately I am rather durable against such pains he might throw my way. My curse, if you like."
*
"So you do have some abilities, huh?" Wasp asks as she seems like she might land on the offered hand, though when Rogue hesitates and puts it back down, she moves to land on her shoulder. "Thanks for your help, Scarlett. And yeah, there's a bunch more, some of them just want to see the world burn. In other words, they're really dumb." Looking around, she mutters, "so…you think we should clear the kitchen and let these guys do their jobs?"
*
"Not particularly many. Certainly nothing like your petite stature." Should Wasp be happier on her shoulder, Scarlett will gladly permit that balancing point. Her wrist or her shoulder, either is welcome. The scent of neroli touches her skin along with a softer, resonant warmth of amber and sandalwood. "But durability is among them, though I dislike having to fight. You are much more effective than I am, whereas I would rather stop the conflict in its tracks. Whether that fellow in a bad mood wanted to rough another person up or not, I don't know."
*
Wasp laughs as Scarlett points out the obvious about her, "well, clothing this size really is quite cheap," she offers with a big playful grin on her lips. "Yeah, I'd say he is for real experienced heroes to deal with…I really didn't expect the flying wok and sauce pan attack," she shakes her head, before whispering to Scarlett, "please don't tell anyone about this, ok?"
*
"You've no idea how much a benefit that is, storage in this city being so expensive. You could store many wardrobes in a drawer, and have room enough for all your furniture. The rest of us have to make do with a shoebox for all our things, or own nothing," remarks the redhead, shaking her head. Scarlett's smile is easy enough. "How long have you been doing the real experienced hero bit? I can appreciate the challenge it must present, to try to do the right thing and reduce such incidents, without getting in the way of law enforcement. Believe me, there are days when I wonder if the police down around Mutant Town harbour such fears or uneasiness because they worry for their jobs." Shaking her head again, the melodic ripple of her braids is subtle, but the various metallic bits chasing them are evidence enough. "I shan't. You have a right to your privacy and determine your own narrative. If he shows up again, though, how should I tell anyone? Is there an Avengers phone number? Some code for them?"
*
Wasp giggles as Scarlett plays along with her joke, and she further quips, "oh, and a Barbie dream house is so affordable, too! With all it's luxuries!" Shaking her head about nervously, it's clear Wasp isn't too keen on answering that question of experience, before eventually answering, "a few months, really, but I've already seen a lot!" Wasp nods, "yes, we do, actually, if you can remember, I'll share with you, otherwise, put down a piece of paper, I'll jot it down for you!"
*