1964-05-23 - Assembly Lines
Summary: Looking for Captain America, Scarlett finds Monsieur Snarque instead.
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
jean-paul kai rogue 

Avengers Mansion, as Captain America has taken to calling it, is in the process of being renovated. Which is to say, the decrepit home of some old, rich guy who died years ago was finally sold to someone willing to pay a ridiculous price for what is clearly a fixer upper. Workmen are scattered around the grounds, though mostly inside and the sound of construction can be heard from the street.

It's a pleasant day for late May, not too hot, not too cool, and most importantly, not raining. Jean-Paul's outside the mansion looking it over. Literally. He's hovering above it and inspecting it from above, slowly floating around the building to get a view of it from all angles.

Any property facing Central Park has to be worth a pretty penny. Hard not to feel especially impressed by flitting by, if not for the fact that Scarlett has occupied a few strange households in her time. A very short time, but her memories are full of mansions, palaces, townhouses, and swanky joints along with her Greenwich digs. Truth told, she'll take the digs in the Village, with the avant garde and the effervescent butterfly souls surrounding her. She walks past the haunted grounds of the great park they all ought to be enjoying. The slip through a gap in traffic is easy, especially given half the streets are probably cordoned off to ensure no one gets eaten by an antimatter monster.

Flaming braids dotted with irises, Scarlett pauses at the sight of someone floating, without a care to their name, in front of said work site. If there is any kind of indication for the address, she notes it, before the man. "Now that must surely improve construction times, and no need for a crane." Flyers of the world unite.

Jean-Paul looks away from the mansion and down at whoever spoke up. "Construction times are not my concern." he notes. "I'm merely observing what is being built in case I feel the need to suggest any changes." Exactly what is being built and for whom is likely unknown to most anyone but the planning board and the city government. "I'm not likely to assist unless there's an emergency requiring my aid."

The redhead at sidewalk level stands back from the work area, but still pitches her eloquent voice high enough to be heard over the clamour of saws, hammers, and trudging boots. "Ah, shame, given how pretty this old dame is likely to be. Hopefully not too many changes." She flicks her fingers against the curl of her braids. No man with a round shield hanging about. On the other hand… "You do have the finer view in the city, though. I hope it's appreciated."

Jean-Paul glances around, though away from the park, the view is eventually blocked by tall buildings. "Paris is more attractive." he answers, looking back. "But some of Manhattan is worth spending time in. Some is not. If you are looking for directions, I am not familiar with the city so would suggest a phone book."

The faint arch of her copper brows refuses to take deep umbrage at the inquiry, but Scarlett raises her hand in a languid flick to banish any possibility of offense. "Paris is, yes. Though how many cities can equal the fabled City of Light?" The corner of her mouth sketches a hint of a smile not fully realised, still much too shrouded in the cool of neutral persona to allow it. The amount of sun she throws off, there's no choice eventually. "Au contraire, I am not looking for directions or a phone book. Man with a round, starry shield I had on good authority might be in the vicinity, but."

"You seek le Capitaine." Only now does Jean-Paul truly give Rogue his full attention. "He is not on the premises at the moment. If you wish to leave a message, I'm certain one of the workmen can take it." Flying down to be closer to the woman, he studies her as he approaches. "What is your purpose in seeking him out?"

Kai arrives from Out <o>.

Kai has arrived.

A trace of a smile touches her mouth in full then, and she inclines her head. "The very one." Scarlett stands on the sidewalk in front of the mansion in refurbishment, while Jean-Paul ignores the fact gravity exists to watch others crawl all over the place like ants going about their designated chores. The hive king, as it were. His query brings a subtle shake of her head, the faint blend of citrus and iris mingled in the air. "Alas, no. The message was intended for the Captain directly. Much as it might be easier, he must receive it personally. Then I can tell the sender he received it directly." Politeness is a wonderful thing, truly, as is playing courier to powers and beings. "A friend wishes to offer aid."

"Then you will need to wait until he has arrived." Jean-Paul states. "Alternatively, you can leave your name and phone number and arrange a time and place to meet." It's no matter to him which she chooses.

"With you, then?" That makes life easier considerably for Scarlett, for whom a pen and paper are essential. It takes little time for her to palm a notepad from the canvas bag usually adorning her shoulder somewhere. Jotting off name and number, she neatly folds the page in two 'ere ripping it from the spiral bindings. The process is perfunctory and simple, devised with a measure of plain grace. An addition is skimmed along the back with the pen, which she jams easily right back into the binding. Fingers pinch the crease; gloved, fair white, trimmed in blue. Just like everything else, a certain modicum of coordination there. "Thank you for your help."

Among the ants going about their lives is a blond-hired elf who has a bounce in his step and a little dog on a leash. The little dog moves nose to the ground, wending back and forth on his leash, his tail wagging when he catches a scent he finds particularly interesting. As he approaches the manor, Kai looks to Jean-Paul, then to Rogue, and he smiles amiably. "Hey, hep cats, what's up?" He upnods to Jean-Paul. Jean-Paul is up.

"Non. With him." Jean-Paul answers as Kai arrives at an auspicious moment. "A message for the Capitaine." he informs the new arrival. "Who is not here at present." Gaze shifting to the dog, the barest hint of a smile forms, the first since Rogue arrived.

"One would think he's mildly more conspicuous than he is, all things considered." With a light shake of her head, Scarlett replies, "Enjoying hospitality, naturally. I'm entirely enchanted." And truth to rights, if anyone can distinguish magic, she most certainly is, though that may not be the matter in question.

The little dog's life is a simple one of sneezing his disapproval at the smell of squirrels and eating things he finds on the ground, and Kai doesn't seem inclined to stop him from doing the latter. It might explain why the formerly starving animal is getting himself a bit of a belly. Kai perks up as he says, "Oh, sure, I can deliver a message to the Captain." He flashes Rogue a dimpled grin. "Hey, chick, just let me know what it is and I'm your man."

"He chooses not to live in the costume." Jean-Paul points out. It's easy to not be conspicuous when you aren't wearing form fitting red, white and blue and carrying a large shield. Still hovering, though closer to the ground, he clasps his hands behind his back.

"Lovely. Thank you for the aid on that front. One can't simply drop something in the mail," replies the redhead, shrugging her shoulders slightly. If Kai wants the slip, he has it; she ventures back into brilliant silence all the more.

Kai takes the slip, cocks his head as he looks at it, then into a pocket it goes. "It's no problem," he says. "I'm here all the time, I'm bound to run into him sooner or later." To Jean-Paul, he says, "He can be somewhat conspicuous. He's got shoulders out to here and he's so tall I have to look him right in the sternum to give him a piece of my mind." And dreamy. So dreamy. But even though Kai doesn't exactly scream 'passing,' he does stop shy of that qualifier. "So how is everyone today? Great weather to be out walking a dog." The dog walks a circle around Kai, wrapping the leash around his legs, and Kai patiently steps out of the trap.

"He does." Jean-Paul allows then glances back to the mansion. "I was merely curious as to how construction was proceeding. The workmen appear to be competent. At the very least, they have made no mistakes that required my intervention."

The slim dabble of fingertips in a wave to Kai and his pup declare wordless gratitude. "No great rush on that front. Swing by for supper some time soon." That gentle flicker of mirth blossoms into full fury as she grins and saunters away, her path carrying her on wherever it will. More than likely, upper-west-side-ward.

Rogue heads to Out <o>.

Rogue has left.

"Of course," Kai calls after Rogue. He waves as she goes, then he looks up to Jean-Paul. "Good thing nothing requires my intervention on that front. I'm pretty sure you hold the part of the hammer that doesn't have the claw on it? That's about as far as my building prowess goes." He peers at the man for a moment, then says, "I remember you from somewhere, not just Madripoor."

"It is possible." Jean-Paul answers, leaving it at that. "Madripoor was an interesting place. I'm pleased that Roche turned out to be a reasonable individual. It would have been better to approach him directly first; the outcome would have been the same but with less needless violence."

Kai's brow knits as he thinks, but then he shrugs it off. Not important. "I got shot with a bazooka," he confides, eyes wide, with a trill of laughter in his voice, like he still can't quite believe it. Something to cross off the bucket list. "We're still figuring ourselves out," he says. "We'll get there. It's hard being virtual strangers, which is why I think we should go out for drinks as part of our training."

"Depending on where, I would not object." Jean-Paul decides, after giving it a moment of thought. "There are some very good clubs and restaurants in this city that I've heard of. I've been wanting to pay a visit to several of them."

"I work at a cafe with a bar," Kai says, "that's pretty good. It's pretty friendly to all types. I think the owner's daughter was saved by a cape once." He glances to Kevin, frowning as he spies the dog rolling in something interesting he found on the ground. "It's like you want baths," he murmurs. Still, he doesn't try to stop the animal. Done is done, and let's face it, the beast doesn't look all that trainable. He does look happy, though. "Anyway, we never formally met. I'm Kai."

"I was thinking of somewhere with a bit more culture." Jean-Paul corrects. "82 Club, for instance. Or the Cafe au Go Go. Though I suppose we can do both on different days." He nods an acknowledgement of the introduction. "Jean-Paul."

Kai laughs. "You assume where I work has no culture?" he asks. "Ouch. I clean up better than you'd think. But sure, we can go wherever you want, maybe share the love, man." He doesn't show any offense. On the contrary, he's downright bubbly. "Jean-Paul. Tell me, when I speak do you hear English or French?" Allspeak being what it is.

Jean-Paul looks puzzled at the question. "You are speaking English, just as you have been since you arrived." He was raised to be fluent in both and can switch from one to the other with ease though he prefers French. "That is a strange question to ask and implies that there is more to it than there appears."

Kai inclines his head and says, "Yes, I'm just curious, and since we're part of a team, it's a question I can ask someone like you. I'm going with a policy of honesty." He glances this way, then that way, then down at Kevin who is hiking a leg on a tree, and he says in a lowered tone, "I'm from Alfheim. It's not far from Asgard. I can speak to be understood, you dig me, but I'm speaking what you'd call Old Norse. Far out, yeah?"

"Asgard." Jean-Paul repeats. "The home of the so-called gods of the Scandinavians. And you are one of them? Or related?" Either by blood or mythology. One should lifts fractionally in a subtle shrug. "Very well. So you speak your language and others hear the one they understand? A useful ability and one I have wished to have in the past. Unfortunately, my German is unintelligible."

Kai shakes his head, curls bouncing. "No, no, no, I'm not a god. Haha, that would be horrible. I'm just a… nng, this is embarrassing. You'd call me an elf, but it's not like what it sounds, man. There's none of that North Pole toy-making business. We're just people from Alfheim." He rubs the back of his neck. Damn it, Santa. "I've no idea how to speak German," he admits. "But yeah, it's a groovy trick, because I don't have to. Huh. I never thought about that. I could be a translator."

"Very well." Jean-Paul agrees equanimously. "An elf. Is this supposed to be a secret of sorts? I can not mention it to others though I don't foresee it coming up in casual conversation." Not that he does much of that with most people.

Kai nods as he says, "I try not to advertise. People get weird about it. They either don't understand, or they've got a problem with aliens among them, but I've lived here most of my life. I don't feel like an alien." He wrinkles his nose. "People need to relax, man. We're all just people." Kevin whines, and Kai asks, "Are you ready to go home, you pointless pooch?" The dog wags, tongue lolling. Kai then says to Jean-Paul, "It was groovy to finally meet you, man. I'd better get going. No rest for the wicked." He picks up the dog, putting him under one arm. The dog strains to lick his face, and he laughs.

"So they say." Jean-Paul agrees. "It seems likely we'll be moving on Latveria in the near future so till then, if not before. Perhaps we shall decide to 'hit' a club before then." Giving Kai a nod, he flies off at just under mach one, sparing everyone the sonic boom, if not the sudden inrushing of air. He's considerate that way.

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