|
  |
Pietro was out for a light jog and most people don't notice this too much. Really no one notices this, but when one is good looking, a mad genius, has a sweet accent and may well be Patient Zero for ADHD? One gets bored easily. It might almost be irony that he was skipping a paperback titled ""How To Find Patience" like a stone into the lake. "You do not work. I rebuke you."
"I knew a waitress named Patience once. She wasn't all that hard to find. Still got her number if you're looking," Mike offers from where he stands along the shore of the pond, hands in the pockets of his jeans, plain white t-shirt and running shoes completing the attire of a casual day at the park.
Pietro was standing by the water but was now very casually idling in vront of Mike looking, curious. "I think this would satisfy requirements of finding patience very much." There was a grin of mischief. "Who you are, very helpful man with good hair?" The platinum speedster watched but curiosity came easy when one was foudn to now have something of value!
"Mike," he offers, as well as a hand to shake should Pietro choose to take it. He smiles curiously at the man's accent and says, "You don't sound like you come from New York. Do you come from some other place on Earth?" This seems to intrigue him. "I like meeting people from other places on the planet. They have interesting stories to tell about things I've not yet gotten to see."
Pietro took the hand. Under it all Pietro was a businessman when he wanted to be. Pale blue eyes took in the many finer nuisances and reasoned, "Ah, you are tourist to planet or travel enthusist or perhaps both?" This interested him. People that collected knowledge, also with great hair? Clearly this person had priorities. "Pietro Maximoff aaaand no am not from here, but I have lived," he considered and yes the math worked enough to say, "A few more than many places. Mike who likes travel, where you come from? You don't sound New York, and thankfully not Newfoundland either."
"Recent immigrant," Mike says to Pietro in explanation of his own status. But then, he'd been warned more than once that he probably shouldn't tell people he's an alien. "From Upstate." It's not innaccurate, just one stop further along the way to NYC from outer space. "But I do like to travel, and I do like to learn about other places, in the hopes of visiting them sometime." He glances out toawrd the water and then asks, "Why are you looking for patience in a book, anyway?"
Pietro shook his head and answered, "Because my brother-in-law is having very cruel sense of humor. Am still very curious about this lady number. THen maybe the joke is n him, and maybe to dinner with lady not so bad." He could find an upside to that! "Mmmmm Europe. Asia quite a bit. I will tell you if you have opportunity to visit the Carpathain mountains? I actually enjoyed those very much. That one I would honestly reccommend. Be good at haggling though. THey will argue like expert."
Mike Matthews fishes his wallet out of his back pocket and pulls out some cards. One is for a diner downtown and scribbled on the back of it is the name Patience and a phone number beneath. This, he extends out to Pietro between two fingers. "Here, you can tell your brother-in-law that you found her." He grins, and then nods thoughtfully as he listens. "I'm actually quite good at settling arguments, which does give me a certain insight into how to have them, as well."
|ROLL| Pietro +rolls 1d20 for: 16
Pietro nabbed that card tuit suite, "She smart? I may look her up a couple times." An eyebrow arched listening to that last part, "If this is true I may bring you with me more often than not." He looked over Mike trying to look over the finer points deducing, "Am curious what it is you are doing with yoruself when not redistributing phone numbers for circulation in teh park. You do not dress like beatnik, but also not stock broker, buuuut you know how to have things the way they are supposed to fit. Now? Now I am curious, Mike."
"I have no idea," Mike laughs. "She has good taste in men, though." No ego there. Nope. He smiles in amusement as Pietro scrutinizes him and makes his guesses as toward the nature of what Mike does with himself. "Bartender," he says with a chuckle. "I get a lot of numbers to redistribute."
Pietro grined, all ego with a profound gentle confidence like a sledge hammer lovingly hurled through a church window, "THen I am doing ehr huge favour to call her so she can stop trying to find me. You do world a great service, friend." Oh so humble. A white eyebrow lofted turning the card over withthe bar name on it, "Ah, truly? This place? This is you then?" Or presumably where he worked.
"No, that's from the diner where she worked," Mike says. "I work at the Stonewall Inn sometimes, and then I also do various parties and private events." He laughs a bit and says, "Well, I'm sure if nothing else, your accent will sweep her off her feet."
Pietro held that grin of amusement, "If nothing else is true. Some night we should go to this place, Pretty certain we would be able to meet all teh people. They almost always have more than one interesting story to tell." He nodded. THIS sounded like the journey to find patience he could be down for. Mischief manageable. "I'll come look you up. We'll go. For now? Must run, but was absolute pleasure meeting you, Mike." A hand slapped him on the shoulder, and then there was a breeze and absolutely no Pietro.