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2200 hours. United Nations. Peace Bell Garden.
Last Tuesday, there were unquestionably aliens. All the members of the UN General Assembly saw it for themselves. A contingent of blue-skinned Kree appeared from out of nowhere to address to the United Nations. Not invaders, them, but the guests of the Non-Aligned Countries. Ronan, the Supreme Accuser, promised he would return under the banner of their invitation one more time.
Exactly at 09:00 PM, space folds and warps neatly around the riverside park north of the UN conference building. Several dignitaries wait in the floodlit garden, seated on benches or standing around the peace bell. The park cannot host many people and the choice on Ronan's part may be deliberate. One moment, the Ethiopian delegate is speaking to the Lebanese delegate. Another moment, they're both overshadowed by the broad-shouldered man over seven feet in height. He is dressed exactly as before: green and white cloak, hooded, his face calm.
"One bears greetings to you this night," he states with stilted formality in English.
Gwen looks around. She is still wearing her usual—black jacket, jeans, boots with low heels, striped shirt. She is unsure of why she is here. Maybe to understand a little more about aliens on Earth, because she MIIIIIGGGGHT happen to know one. Or two.
Jean was there, already as promised, Able tucked in tow right along her side as she carries a package. She came bearing gifts. A nice pan of banana pudding for the Kree to take back with them if they so choose. And they'd be wise to, because the girl sprinkled a mass of cinnamon on top. There were quiet murmurings around her and Able, the need to bend the light around her face with her TK was almost present but she had to keep herself visible and.. disarming. And yet, once the space folds and Ronan steps out, Jean was the first to approach the Accuser with an offering of good tidings.
Banana pudding. Spoon on top for his advisors to sample first.
"Greetings, dream walker." She states almost happily. It was a relief that she wasn't going crazy. "Banana pudding for you and yours. As a thanks for returning to speak with us."
Conner King is jogging home from his job down on the docks. He's come all the way from the southernmost point of Manhattan. It's not like he avoids the exercise — he makes this run twice a day most days. The crowd gathered around Riverside Park forces him to slow, then stop when he spies the large blue man. That's something you don't see everyday.
As they approach, Able mutters something to Jean while they're still out of earshot. "Hopefully no one will try to pick a fight with the big, helpful blue alien this time. I swear, I'm out of room for stupidity in my life."
He coughs politely into his fist and raises an eyebrow, waiting to see how the offering will be accepted, or if it will at all. Sharp dresser, as always. Unarmed, which is a lot less common.
Arriving at the UN Building well before the event began, Supergirl is mingling in the crowd in her civilian identity of Kara Danvers. She had recognized the alien visitors when they were shown on television. WHile there were no direct dealings between the Kryptonians and the Kree, Kara had enough general knowledge to be concerned. They were expansionistic, militaristic, and a potent force in the universe. She left a message on her freind Gwen's answering service, saying that she'd be there to observe, and Kara hoped her friend and fellow superhero would be here.
Kara discretely scans the area with her x-ray vision looking for traps, bombs…hints of an ambush. And as she wanders, she does indeed catch sight of Gwen, which allows Kara to give a slight sigh of relief. Hurrying over, Kara calls out, 'Hey, Gwen!" as she approaches. She lowers her glasses down on her nose a bit to make it easier for Gwen to compare Kara Danvers' face to the face of Supergirl. "I'm so glad you came," Kara murmurs to her friend once they're united. She doesn't know what might happen, but having the White Widow around gives Kara some measure of confidence.
The crowd is very thin, the security exceptionally tight nonetheless. Police and the internal security forces provided by just about every major power bloc ring the garden at a polite distance, the better to not violate the truth of that Japanese peace bell. Many of the children of gave coins were survivors of the two atomic bomb blasts, after all. Several diplomats are about and the guests admitted two by two to ask their questions as they would. This is very much not the affair in the general assembly on television. It's meant to be more intimate, less formal.
Advisors would be the delegates from the UAC — and it will fall upon Berhanu Dinka, the permanent representative of Ethiopia to the UN, to take the banana pudding. He does so with the appropriate degree of solemnity. "Thank you, miss. I will be sure it is kept safe," he says to Jean in a beautifully warm, kind voice. Mr. Dinka spoke at length last meeting, and he is comfortable as one can be in front of an alien now. The Kree have not appeared en masse this time, just Ronan, but Ronan is more than enough.
He folds his gloved hands together and marks a steady look at the diplomat, then upon the redhead and the man escorting her. "Greetings to you as well, flame-sister and forge-brother. May your wit be keen and feet sure this night."
Gwen blinks. She almost says her name, but doesn't. Suppose she's using a different name?
"Hey, there. I didn't bring a camera. I'm no good at the things, anyway." Kara looks…interesting in those clothes. Someone who'd be working as a secretary at some Madison Avenue office. "I'm…still not sure what I'm doing here," she whispers. "If anyone would have wanted to be her, it would have been my father."
|ROLL| Maximus +rolls 1d20 for: 7
Jean bows gracefully and takes a step back to join at Able's side. Flame-sister. It was such a beautiful name to be called, and yet all she could do was stammer quietly and blush. But, now was the time for business, and it was business that they were here for. Their entire world was at stake. "There have been new developments." She states quietly, though loud enough for everyone in accordance to hear. "We've gotten information on the Skrull race that we're looking for, but we need more time to digest and fact find. Search. Will this be allowable for us?"
Conner has no real business with the UN. He keeps his head down and does his job. That's his life. But aliens… he is always curious about aliens. He knows he's part alien. He doesn't know what kind of alien — he's aware of far too many. So he moves in closer to listen, to see what's going on, without coming too close to security.
Able inclines his head briefly to acknowledge Ronan. The last time they met, there seemed to be an understanding. A sharing of goals and ideas, at least. "Welcome, Warrior. She's right. Progress has been made, but not enough. The gift of time would be most appreciated. They… we are gifted, but not enough to solve this problem so quickly."
Maximus is dressed in a fine, mandarin styled suit this evening, with a coat over it that has real fur, since that was still cool. He has on black and white gloves. He's with Medusa, that charming lady, and he looks proud of that fact. Oh there were days in the past when he would have loved nothing better. Now, he's at peace more than ever. "You look beautiful…by the way."
"Thank you." Medusa stands regally next to Maximus, a hand on his arm. "This isn't quite the meeting I had hoped for when I asked to speak to their delegates," Invaders, but let's not outside voice that, "But I am still struggling to understand how they expect us to find the Skrull."
"Just…be ready," Kara says to Gwen in a whisper. "My people knew of the Kree. And what we had heard isn't good. But, I want to give them a chance in case what we heard was inaccurate." She looks over to Jean, watching the exchange between the woman and the Kree. "Who's that?" she asks Gwen, also in a whisper. "And…she's working with the Kree to find Skrulls?"
Black lines sharpen around Ronan's glowing violet eyes. The niceties he will observe to a point. Jean says the magic words to rouse his interest. The heavy weight of his cowl shifts as he looks at her directly. Diplomats are busy taking notes in the background, be assured. "The finest sword is not forged by dusk. You understand then the risks to your civilisation and your independence. Very good." His tones roll away in easy reverberations to human ears, deep and rich. The Japanese bell is a fascinating piece of art, but he doesn't have opportunity to admire it at the moment.
Gwen whispers quietly, "Anyone with the title of 'Supreme Accuser' sounds more like Sergeant Hoskins at the 9th precinct in Harlem. Someone who gets results." She looks to Jean, suddenly unsettled. She hadn't forgotten the weird, dangerous night with those frat boys, or the redhead with the scary eyes. "No idea. Never met them before in my life."
"Yes." Jean readily admits. "That understanding runs deep due to my own experiences." She states. "We understand by sight alone, by smell alone, and quite possibly by thought we cannot suss out the Skrulls just by quick glance alone." She pauses, her gaze turning away for the moment to view those in attendance, spotting Medusa and Maximus with a slightly wary smile. But to address Ronan again, she draws her hands up disarmingly. "I don't come to ask for help, nor aid or mechanics. Only the extension of time that you've allotted us. And a minor request, if you will." And this one is going to be a doozy!
People trust Jean. They know her, not Able. For him, it's best to stay out of the way and let her do the talking. That's what he opts to do; taking a step to the side. Despite being near enough to Ronan's height, he's pretty good at looking polite and unassuming. He opts to do that, too.
Conner's eyes are fixed mainly on Ronan, but he's paying attention to those around the blue man as well, of course. He doesn't think he's going to find any answers here, not given the circumstances, but he's alert all the same. And hey, it's the closest he's ever been to another alien, to the best of his knowledge. That's something.
Maximus is definitely here to observe, and aside from the woman with exceptionally long hair at his side, he doesn't seem to be drawing any undo attention. He too…has previously met the Kree, back some 12 years ago. Not that he expects them to remember him, but, best to be cautious. He's interested, for sure, in what the Mutants have in store for themselves. "I see that this is out of our hands and into the hands of others. They are not interested in us, exactly. Let the mutants draw their gaze for a time and it will be better for us in the end. We can help them…and avoid the consequences, if there end up being some." He pauses a beat. "And, with success, perhaps they will earn a win in the eyes of the public." Spoken like a true ex-King crazy person.
"That's not our way." Medusa remarks to Maximus quietly. "We all live on this planet, and this effects its fate in ways we would dread. I'm simply halted by the matter of how to even begin sifting through the chaff to find the real culprits. Telepaths apparently cannot find them. They have no fears I am aware of. I have not heard of any technology that would be useful in detecting them, or at least none that the Kree would tell us about."
Kara nods to Gwen's response about Jean and Abel. "I'll try to follow them later," she whispers back. "The Skrulls are an opposing empire, rivals to the Kree. And they're shapeshifters. I really hope Earth doesn't get caught up in the middle of their conflict. Or become absorbed into either empire."
"It is your civilisation at risk. We honour our statement," Ronan's brisk formality is not warm and far from stony. "Offer us no harm and we will not be drawn into conflict with you as the Skrull want. I have not given you a deadline to satisfy us. The actions taken to undermine and eradicate them stand in stead. Does that satisfy your concern, flame-sister?" His shoulders form a straight line, his manner contained. He barely gestures at all. And it would be a foolish notion to assume he is not very much alert to his surroundings. The diplomats are, for certain.
Mr. Dinka, ever the diplomat, holds the pudding offered to the Kree. He asks, "Are there any further questions for honoured yebelayi danya?"
Gwen looked to Kara, a wry but sad smile on her face. "We're going to. Murphy's Law practically guarantees it, Kara. If this guy Ronan is here, then it's safe to assume these Skrulls are here, too." She looked up at the sky. It used to hold so much wonder for her. Now, it seemed like the dark places were just waiting to spit out another threat.
A brow raises as she glances out towards the gathering again, and then this time towards the diplomats who stand near. Going for broke on this one is a risk, but to protect one for the whole of the world was worth it. "There will be no harm, and if so, it shall be on me first. I willingly claim myself as your defender, and only myself." She glances towards Able with a slightly sad smile, anything to keep her own safe. As Mr. Dinka steps forward to speak, she clears her throat and nods. "Once all of this is done and our business concluded, would it be agreeable if we were to visit your world as you have ours? As an envoy to further discussions of peace as was spoken before?"
No, that is not a courtier choking to death on a pretzel in the background, it just sounds like that on TV.
Maximus clears his throat. "Ohhh…they wish to go to spaaaace." Max muses and then walks slowly closer to Jean and the big, blue man, though not close enough to be an interruption. He speaks softly to Medusa, "Do you want to introduce yourself? I do believe we can find those nasty Skrulls. We have something they want."
Medusa eyes Maximus askance. "Don't you think this is a bit public to 'introduce' myself? And what is it that we have? Have you found a way? Developed a technology?" Medusa isn't saying no, but she also doesn't want to talk out of her ass, either.
"Where she goes, I generally go. Much to my dismay." Able smiles, but it's a small one and it seems more rueful than anything else. He shrugs, also a minute gesture. "Assuming that it wouldn't cause offense. And that you agree with her, of course."
"This Murphy of yours sounds like quite a pesismist," Kara remarks to Gwen. Kara resumes scanning the area for dangers, but puts her hand on Gwen's shoulder comfortingly. "Don't worry," she whispers with a smile. "I lost one home. I'm not going to loose another. Earth will be safe." She doesn't know *how* excatly, but she's convinced that things will work out all right in the end.
Diplomats have good poker faces. It goes with the job. Requests of "Could we go to your empire?" don't cause mass hysteria. Neither does the Supreme Accuser laugh himself all the way home, his expression harsh, grave, and unaccountably weighed by a hard burden. He spreads his hands a fraction of an inch. "They are overly concerned we come to conquer this planet," he says. "In spite of overtures to show respect and clear intention." He dips his chin a moment to compose his thoughts, and then draws back from Maximus and Jean. The bell stands between them in all its charming beauty. Space, and distance, for the man. "Show yourself honourable, and perhaps the equivalent door should arise. We await your success in eradicating our ancient enemies. I did so say trade opportunities may open." If anyone can detect the wryness, a cookie for you. "Be you well, children of Earth."
Gwen looks to the big blue guy, then to Kara. "Well, I'm intimidated. How about you?" she whispers softly. This going to lend a lot of credence to Kara, not to mention Koriand'r. And she is definitely feeling like a kid among adults.
Jean felt it. That pang of emotion from the most of the diplomats that nearly had her cracking up. And.. perhaps from Ronan too, but she doesn't let on that it happened.
Jean had a horrible poker face. But her tone concludes that she was not joking.
'I don't know why you didn't just ask me.' -She- said. 'I can burn the world a mill—..'
Able's words cut the voice within off, her elbow striking out to nudge him briefly, but again she goes to smiling. Her hands laced with each other, her head bobbing ever so faintly, expecting that cookie since she caught and felt the slight hint of humor the large warrior put off. "Be well, Ronan the Accuser." A hand lifts, and she waves briefly, not wanting to keep him longer but yet, considering the bell. "Mr. Dinka.. why didn't we let him take that bell?" That was the question of the night. "You know, a form of good will. I hope they like the pudding.." Childish as it was, her hand lifts to rest at the back of her head, scratching her scalp briefly. "Greens and giblets. I need an orange slice now.." She mutters, half to herself and half to Able..
Maximus reaches over to draw his fingertips along Medusa's hand briefly, "Keys to the cities…such as they are. And the weapon we took from Penglai." Max says quietly to Medusa. When Ronan takes his leave, he brings his hands together to clap a few times for Jean. After all, they didn't accidentally start a war, so…good job all around!
Medusa isn't soothed, but neither is she disturbed. "It seems that I'll not have the chance to make an introduction either way. A shame, really." Her voice raises, so perhaps Ronan will hear it prior to departing. "What did the Midnight King promise you?" Cool eyes regard Jean Grey briefly. For some reason, Medusa is not entirely pleased.
So doth the blue-skinned Accuser, highest of them all, acknowledge those humans responsible for a measure of decorum. He takes the banana pudding from the dignitaries assembled behind him, and with that tucked under his arm, steps into another of those folded vortices of space and time.