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Central park, a place of beauty and joy, fresh trees and green grass on a chill day. The sky's are blue as far as the eye can see with full gridlock abound a sea of cars surrounding this island of hills and forest, and pathways leading all around.
With the nip in the air it's hardly a wonder that most people seem to be more content with staying at home rather then heading out to play at the park. A few vestiges of the homeless population make up most the visitors this fine evening, sleeping on benches or just hiding under the bridge-ways trying to keep warm before they're run off outright from the park.
A small line has formed leading up to a hotdog cart with some of the homeless population pulling out their panhandled cash for a bite to eat. Yet at the back of the line stands a man at 9 feet in height. His massive figure looming over everyone else in the line, hands down inside of his pocket. That overly wide brimmed hat of his bathes his face in shade leaving only visible the pure almost glowing white smile of his peaking out from the shadow. He'd been there for about a half hour now waiting in line and it was almost his time to have one of the best dogs in new york. He could hardly wait.
*
Central Park is has always been a favourite of the rockiest member of the Fantastic Four. So when he's out and he gets a chance to cut through the Park, he takes that chance. Adjusting his trenchcoat and large hat, he tries not to bring too much attention to himself, despite the fact that he's almost six and a half feet, bulky, and supposedly made of rock.
Deciding to stop by one of his favourite hot dog carts, he veers off his route to find the path that it's on. Once he reaches it, he finds himself behind a man that's taller than he is. In fact, taller than pretty much anyone he can think of. "Well now…there's somethin' you don't see every day." He mutters to himself.
*
Hans moves forward in line as one person gets a fresh hotdog and another moves to take their place. He's built like a skyscraper, and turns his head slightly to one side as Ben lines up behind him. That bright almost Cheshire grin plain on his face as he offers a friendly nod. "Great morning for a walk." Spoken out in a light British English accent, in a deep booming echo of a voice that has its own natural reverb, an eyepatch on his right eye covering over small glimmers of red glow.
*
"Yeah, I suppose so." Ben gives the man little nod, looking up at him. "I suppose even the tallest among us need to walk every now and then, huh?" He chuckles, a rocky grin crossing his face. "Though one step for you is probably equal to a few steps for the rest of us, I bet." He continues to chuckle, finding his 'joke' at least somewhat funny.
*
"Just means I save money on gas." The smile grows wide as he lets out a deep laugh. "Might win a marathon if they let coloreds enter round these parts." Seemingly finding it just as funny himself, a bit of good humor about him.
He takes a step forward back up to the front of the line before noticing that little sign on the front of the stall. "Whites only buddy" The man behind the hotdog cart says with a bit of a pause, chewing hard on some gum as he just pauses there. "Find a different stall if you want to get grub." The white chef gives a bit of an uncaring look towards him.
*
"Ha. Gas money. I guess you got a point there, pal." Ben rolls his eyes in regard to the marathon comment. It's not right. Something he could possibly use his fame as a member of the Fantastic Four to eventually help change. When the cart vendor refuses to serve the tall man, he frowns.
Stepping around him, he crosses his arms. "Hey now. You serve me and I'm a rock man. If you can serve a rock man, you can definitely serve a black guy. Tell you what. How about I buy two hot dogs for myself? Hmm." And then he'll just happen to give one to the tall black guy. But only after he's paid.
*
There's a moment of pause from the giant as he's already in the middle of pulling out a rather large wad of cash from his pocket. He was about to make his order but then it all came to a stop. He looks down at the sign and is about to make a comment before thankfully Grim steps in the way.
"Yeah but last I checked you aint no colored. I'm fine with servin powered folks but coloreds is where I draw the line." He stomps his foot down to aid his statment as he looks over towards Grim. He looks fully confident in himself yet there's a single bead of sweat that rolls down the side of his face. "Listen I got every legal right not to serve his type. These dogs aint made for no colored." He looks like he's about to say more but it's clear that he's sweating quite a bit with that nervous backing slipping in as he says that last word.
*
Placing a hand on the metal ledge where hot dogs and money get placed, Ben eyes the vendor. As he taps a rocky finger, leaving a small dent in the ledge, he looks between the vendor and the tall man. "You know what? I've had enough of this guy. Haven't you?" He asks of the tall black man. "The hot dogs here aren't even all that great." Okay, so he loves the hot dogs here. But he's not gonna stick around with talk like this!
He motions to the tall man. "Come with me. We'll get you some better tasting hot dogs somewhere else!"
*
The man behind the hotdog stand just covers his face when Ben leans down, and Schwarz leans as well. His arms held up right crossed over each-other as if he's expecting half to be hit across the park. The sweat already pouring down his face before he just peaks out towards the two.
Schwarz lets go of the cart leaving behind grip marks in the metal. He's silent for a long moment before taking a single hand up to that hat of his and tipping it towards Ben. "Very kind of you sir." With the utmost respect in his voice. "Too many people around here have lost their manners."
*
"Yes, a real shame, that. No manners at all." Ben glances back at the hot dog vendor before starting to walk down the path. "No matter what you look like, I wouldn't have said no to a man like yourself. Not if I'd been him." He points a rocky thumb behind them. "So, what's your name, fella?" He holds out his own hand toward him. "I'm Ben Grimm."
*
The giant turns away after giving one last look to the man behind the counter. There's a light pause before he does just so he can make eye contact, then he goes right off down the path with Grim. "Yeah, but I'm not about to tell him how to run his business, even if he is a fool." He says face falling back to that smile as he puts his hands back down into his trench-coat. He takes a pause to pull back out a single gloved hand the size of the average mans head, giving Bens a shake. "Sehr erfreut, Mr.Grimm, I'm Hans Walther."
*
"Quite a fool, at that." Ben murmurs. "Sehr…Sehr…what?" He looks at the man with a bit of confusion. "Sorry, English is my only language. Hope you'll forgive that. Never had a mind for languages." He explains. "Regardless, nice to meet ya, Mr. Walther." He smiles a little. "I just wish it were under better circumstances."
*
"Oh" There's a light pause from him. He thinks for a moment on the right phrasing. "Pleased to meet you." He corrects. "Sorry, sometimes I slip back into German." That hand goes right back behind his head scratching at the nape of his neck somewhat nervous at his own mistake. "Never finished my English, mom was trying to teach me but." He trails off a bit. "I've gotten used to it Mr.Grimm, America isn't quite how mom described it." He pauses a bit as his stomach growls. "Though I really could have used one of those hot dogs." He looks back to grim. "What brings you out this way?"
*
"It's quite alright, really. Sometimes I forget I'm a rock and I crush things I never used to crush." Ben holds out a hand as if to show how much rock he really is. "I'm sorry America wasn't quite what you expected. But hey, in life, things rarely are, I'm afraid. Not that that's much consolation."
He chuckles at the stomach growl. "Don't worry. We'll get you food soon enough." He shakes his head. "Oh, I usually cut through the Park if I can, on my way home or if I'm off to an appointment, or if I'm just out for a walk. If I can, I'll make my way through. It's just a very nice place."
*
As a show of solidarity Hans pulls of that black leather glove. Underneath his own hand is partially see through made of molded together wrought iron covering over a complex network of gears and springs. Clockwork makes it so he can even move his hand hundreds of these incredibly tiny gears making up just a single finger covered by the meshed together iron. "I know that feeling aswell."
He lets out a deep laugh as he covers back over the hand with that glove slipping it on with care. "It's like its own little island." Concurred as he takes right to the path. The two do get their fair share of people gawking as they pass by, though with mainly just the homeless crowd a few of them seem the type to gawk even as butterflies float past.
*
A tiny gasp emits from Ben as he looks closer at the hand. "How fascinating. Is that clockwork?!" Yes, he's interested in the makings of the hand. "I've got a bit of a thing for mechanics." He explains, clearing his throat and looking up at Hans. "What can I say? I'm an engineer. Something like that just gets me interested!"
He chuckles and nods. "It's quite something all right." He points up ahead. "By the way, there's a hot dog cart not too far up that way. If I remember correctly, I've seen black guys buying from it while I've walked past."
*
"Sure is, I'm 90% clockwork and 10% meat, and 100% certified, grade A, unconditionally incredible." A light pause, as he jokingly flexes showing off himself, while keeping down the road. "I run a shop down in hells kitchen, why don't you stop by some time, can talk a bit more shop there where I won't have people coming after me with torch and pitchfork"
His stomach grumbles again, as they come up towards another cart with not nearly the same line as the one before but people of all kinds lining up none the less. "Long as they're kosher I'll buy the whole cart at this point." He rubs his stomach with the regloved hand. "I'll eat the cart too, I'm not picky." He laughs loudly at his own joke with that bright smile of pure white teeth.
*
"I'd like that. You got a card or somethin'?" Ben asks as they approach the cart. "Me and my team…well, I two of 'em are more scientist that engineer. They deal with things like pure physics and biology and chemistry. Some of it, like the physics, I can keep up with. Need to know physics for engineering, but there's a lot that just goes over my head. Something like this, though?" He motions to the hand to indicate he's talking about the clockwork. "That is something I completely understand." He says with a little nod.
"Well, I think I should have enough cash to buy out whatever they have left. It'll be on me. An apology for America not being quite as you expected it to be!" He says with a firm nod.
*
Hans reaches into his pocket pulling out a very simple off white business car with a simple outline of a man lifting a car over his head. On his chest is the address and phone number of the place, yet there's no business name. Just the phone-number and the address. "Always make sure to carry around for or five of them." He hands it over towards Ben. "Never know when opportunity will come knocking." He goes silent at the explanation nodding along as he soaks up the info like a sponge. His attention shown by the occasional nod of the head.
*
"Thanks!" Ben says, placing the card into his jacket pocket. "I'll come by sometime soon." As they approach the vendor he starts taking out a bunch of cash and says, "I'll take everything you have ready." He places the cash down for the vendor to take. "Keep the change." He glances up at Hans. "What do you like with your hot dogs?"
*
The vendors eyes go wide at the comment and the cash. A young Indian man thin as a rail stuck behind the cart. He starts nodding his head smiling and giving light bows as he rushes to prep as many as he can. "Yes, right now sir."
Hans watches the man work, hands down to either side. "Some mustard, maybe some onions or chili." As he moves over he gives a tip of the hat towards a rather well dressed dark skinned man off to the side who'd been trying to look like part of the scenery only to be given a nod and smile in return.
*
"You heard the man! And maybe some ketchup, mustard, onions, on some of the others. Just a few. I have a feeling the gentleman with me will need a few more than I do." Ben gives Hans a little wink. "Gotta keep those gears in motion, afterall!" The rock-man rubs the back of his neck lightly.
"How long've you been here in America, then?" He asks casually ask the vendor does his work, making and preparing the hot dogs that he has.
*
Machine precision, well at least that's the attempt anyway, from the hot-dog vendor as he works fast as he can to do up the order in a quick manner. He speeds along one hotdog after another slaping them down into buns before sliding them over getting into the zone.
"Been here a few years, took me, took a long time before I could afford a trip across on the boat for me and my car." He leans onto a nearby tree for a moment before his weight begins to push it over and so instead he goes back to standing straight. "Still getting used to business around here, and there's a lot of it to get used to." A light pause as eyes focus down on that sweet sweet food. "How about you Mr.Grimm? A local or?"
*
There's a slight nod from Ben. "Yes, I was born and raised here in New York City." He explains. "Bound to be a bit different than Germany, I imagine. Big city, bright lights. Not that you don't have big cities in Germany. But there's no city quite like New York, huh?" He grins. "I wouldn't want to have grown up anywhere else, really. Not personally anyway. This is the city for me!"
*
"One of the biggest changes is the segregation." Hans nods quietly, placing his hands back into his pockets as he gives a slight lean back. "Either way I still love this country. Even if it's missing the gold streets it's a lot bigger then home." A slight chuckle. "Then again there only were 30 of us in Waldleiningen"
*
There's a shake of his head. "Segregation is a terrible, terrible thing." Ben murmurs softly. "I'm sorry that it's something you've had to witness." He's never been on the receiving end of it himself, but he certainly finds it to be distasteful and wrong. He raises a brow, or what consists of a rocky brow. "Thirty of ya? I can't even imagine a place that small! Were there really that few of ya there?!"
*
"Didn't tend to pack ourselves that close together back home, though you usually had one family per house." Hans reaches down and grabs a hotdog sat to the side so he can just chomp it down in what seems to be a single bite. "I lived with my parents and theirs on both sides, along with their brothers." A pause as he wipes his mouth with a small handkerchief. "We were mostly farmers before the war."
*
"Here and I grew up in a part of town that had at least a hundred people living in about a block radius." Ben chuckles and shakes his head. "I really can't imagine living in a place so small. But it must have been a wonderful place to grow up. As much as I'd never give up having grown up here, having the kind of nature around you that you must have had…I could imagine it being a beautiful area!"
*
There's a bit of a pained look on Hans face for a moment the smile fading as he grabs another hotdog, a pause as he holds it in his hands. "I try not to dwell too hard on it, but yeah it was once upon a time." He scarfs the next dog in a single bite as well clearly not kidding about being able to eat the whole cart. "Trees and hillsides far as the eye could see, rows and rows of crops. Everyone knew everyone else, doc had a shed on the edge of our property, was always plenty for me and my brothers to do." He pauses a second, a bit more distant chuckle. "Haven't seen a farm since I got here."
*
Grabbing a hot dog for himself, and taking a few bites as he listens, Ben nods along. "Sounds nice." He says softly. "I knew a lot of the people in my neighbourhood." A lot were gang members, but that's a whole other story. He laughs. "No, you wouldn't find many farms right around here. You have to go a ways into the state before you'll find proper farms, I'm afraid. But, the further north you go, the more there are!"
*
"Seems like you had the easier time making friends though" Hans says with a bit of a smile. "With so many people all over the place, bet you never ran out of new people to talk to." Slight pause. "Even if there aren't any farms or horses for miles."
*
"I wouldn't say 'easier'. Though I knew plenty of people." Ben laughs and nods. He glances at the now pile of hot dogs. "Shall we take our feast somewhere that we can sit? I don't know about you, but I've been standing for quiet a while and could certainly use a sit down while I eat my food."
*
Hans gives a deep nod, before grabbing hold of the massive stack of hotdogs with both arms. It's not exactly difficult for him to carry them, just a quick scoop up. "Right, just lead the way and I'll try not to eat all of these."
*
Grabbing the last few that Hans didn't quite get, Ben leads to a nearby picnic table where they can put down the hot dogs. "So, what made you decide to come aaaallll the way to America from Germany, hmm?" This certainly makes him curious. Especially since the War wasn't that long ago. "What made us so special that you wanted to come here?"
*
Setting down the massive stack Hans digs right in, just able to mow his way through dogs like there's no tomorrow. "These have to be the best dogs I've had in America" Glints of the metal replacing the right side of his face visible. He pauses the moment Grim asks about his reasons, a long pause with a hotdog partially hanging out of his mouth. With zero effort he manages to just down the rest of it, taking a pause to wipe his mouth off with the handkerchief from earlier.
He takes a breathing sigh, before he actually speaks again. "Well, I lost my family in the first war, and most my body," He flexes his hand "Tried to build a new life for myself, got married, had a little girl, but the second war took them." He pauses passing that small floral print handkerchief from one hand to the other. "I guess after the war I was just tired of trying to hide, remembered all the stories mom used to tell us about this place. Streets of gold, work for everyone, so much food no one was hungry, and I decided I'd give america a try."
*
"World War…One?" Ben raises his brow in disbelief. "I'm sorry, but you just…you don't look old enough to have been around in the first world war." He clears his throat. "I'm sorry. That's not the takeaway here. I'm sorry about your losses, in both wars. I truly am. I know what it is to lose family, and no matter the reason, it's never easy."
He eats a few hot dogs as he continues to listen. "If only the streets were made of gold and there was work and food for everyone. But, not everyone gets the food they deserve, and not everyone gets the work they deserve, unfortunately. There are some good people here, but the 'American Dream' takes a lot of work to achieve. Some might say that it takes too much work."
*
"It's a wonder what modern technology can do." Hans lifts up the patch on his right eye, and there's a glowing bright red lense where the eye should be that starts ultra bright before going back dim. The entire right half of his face reflects back as the metal it is, pitch black and dull, but metal. "They motored our house 1916, doc pulled me out and put me back together, he didn't live long enough to tell me how he managed it, but I haven't aged since." A quick explanation only once Grimm gets his ideas across. "If you didn't have to work for things, they wouldn't be worth it."
*
"The wonders of modern technology!" Ben shakes his head. "My friends and colleagues would have a field day if they could meet you." He rolls his eyes and chuckles. "It's amazing. I mean, very, truly amazing!" He leans forward slightly to look at the eye. "I would definitely be interested in learning more! And…I wonder if we have scanning equipment that won't affect metal." He ponders to himself. "If we can get a truly detailed look inside you, we may be able to figure out just exactly how your doctor did this!" He sounds quite excited about the prospect. "If you'd be interested, of course."
*
There's a small series of lenses constantly adjusting within the eye that red glow shining out as it seems to be made of a complex series of almost gemstone like lenses. "Long as you don't try to take me apart I think we could work something out." A lighthearted laugh from him, as he leans back putting back down the eye-patch. "Might be good to know for once how I work myself. I do my own repairs, but I've never had the tools to get a good idea for how I work past that." He looks across the table silent for a moment. "What is it you said you and your friends do?"
*
"Well…I'd do my best not to take you apart. There are ways around that, I suppose." Ben grins. "If you ever need help with repairs…" He digs through his own pockets and takes out a card, handing it over to Hans. It has the Fantastic 4 logo as well as his name and a phone number. "Have you heard of the Fantastic Four? We're in the news regularly enough. That's me and my friends. Two of 'em are scientists. Very smart ones. The third is also going into engineering. And then there's me!"
*
"I've tried being in multiple pieces before, it's not fun." Hans says with a smile, before taking the card and placing it inside of his jacket. "Always worried I won't be able to fit back together the same way, or I'll put my arm on backwards one of these days." He adjusts his seating, pulling back out the card for another look. "Don't really spend much time reading the news, keep a bit too busy." He pauses for a second. "Wait, you're the Ben Grimm who was doing that space stuff" He asks.
*
"I suppose I could understand that fear. Don't wanna be taken apart only to find you can't be put back together again! A little Humpty Dumpty-ish, I guess." Ben nods in agreement. He chews on a hot dog and nod. "Yep. The Ben Grimm who did that space stuff. My friends are the ones who went up with me. Quite the uh…quite the flight test it turned out to be." He wiggles his rocky fingers and shrugs.
*
Hans reaches his arms out and quickly shovels a massive stack of the Hotdogs chowing down as if this was his last meal. Effectively opening his jaw and letting the food vanish. Just choosing that moment in the conversation to finish up his fair share of what could have been a meal for six people. Then he leans back up into a proper sitting position. "Well call me at the shop any time during business hours and we can work out an arrangement."
*
Watching in amazement as Hans eats multiple hotdogs in short order, Ben laughs. "Well, we've got a lot to discuss, I think!" He shakes his head in continued amazement. Reaching out his hand, he says, "Well, it has certainly been a plasure. I look foward to being able to meet with you more!"
*
Hans reaches out that hand to give a firm handshake to Ben. That pure white smile back across his face as he speaks. "The pleasure was all mi-" He pauses for a moment as an unexpected burp suddenly roars out of him echoing out through the trees and bringing a bit of attention from the people in line and the 'muscle' watching over the stand. Hans blinks a few times, before just finishing the handshake. "All mine, excuse me."
*
Grinning a little, he looks amused. "Not to worry. I can handle a few burps here and there." Though's not so sure about the trees or the other people. Standing he says, "I'm afraid I really should get going. But it was nice meeting ya, and I really do look forward to seeing you more in the future!"