capeandcowllogs | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Who EVERYONE EVER
Where The Iceberg Lounge
When Sat, 9/29 in the evening
Warning Who knows?
Summary A black-tie event to help raise money towards City repairs along with good PR in the Import community. So eat, drink, and be merry, and enjoy the live music.
Format OPEN

The Lounge is decked out and fully stocked with more than enough booze and food to knock someone off their feet with a live band playing down at the left stage. D.O.I. employees stationed at the front were there to take the admission tickets to the event, and inside was the softly lit glory of Oswald Cobblepot's Iceberg Lounge- a long bar, servers and bartenders in tuxedos, tables below for idle chit chat, and hors d'oeuvres available thanks to an impeccable caterer.

The name of the game was to come and enjoy yourself, donate what you will, and maybe have a chance to reconnect with some of the Import community.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[In lumbers a blue gentleman who only seems larger in life than he seems onscreen. A glass of bourbon is almost buried in one of his large hands, while the pocket of his creme-colored suit with a red bowtie houses the other. He gives Bradbury's scratches an amused frown.]

Well, you seem to have had a pleasant week!

[ Thankfully, Hank is so distinct that Bradbury spots him when he's a considerable distance off, so he has time to school his expression into something more pleasant than the uncomfortable face he's been pulling most of the evening. He doesn't have a drink at the moment, but he nods, a wry grin creeping across his lips. ]

Yeah, I know I look like shit. Good to see you, doc. How's the party?

[ He can't quite help looking Hank over with avid curiosity; for some reason, he's reminded of the Beast in the Disney movie, though Hank is appreciably more amiable. ]

[It's not an uncommon comparison, though more often done via Ron Perlman than Disney...depending on the audience, of course. Either way, he's the kind of guy who's hard to miss.]

Decent shindig, good cause. It's a rather classic sort of soiree, even if I missed the memo about it being black-tie.

[He puts a hand forward to Bradbury, best to remember his manners when meeting a guy for the first time. The other makes a vague gesture at his own face, but nothing too overstated. That hand is still holding his drink, after all.] Occupational hazard?

Edited 2012-10-02 07:34 (UTC)

[ Bradbury hesitates for half a beat before reaching out to clasp that hand, perhaps too firmly. Fuck if he's going to let someone's appearance get in the way of him getting along with 'em. The doc seems like a more decent guy than some of the people he's met who are human. He grins wryly at Hank's observation, nodding. ]

Yeah, something like that. My fault for not being on the ball, though at least my powers helped me out. [ He draws his hand away so he can dig through his jacket for another cigarette, but pauses. ] You mind if I smoke?

Be my guest. I'll be sure not to let the sensitive nose bother me too much. [It's not like he never had to deal with it from Logan back home, anyway. He takes a sip of his bourbon.]

So, what did these powers end up manifesting as?

[ Bradbury puts the cigarette between his lips and doesn't immediately light it up yet, preferring to keep talking. ]

Good question. [ Where does he even begin...? ] It looks like I can... turn things off, or knock 'em out. [ He frowns. It's hard to describe. ]

[Hank takes a seat on one of the patio chairs and makes a thoughtful noise.]

Well, that would beg the question of what kind of things you can affect. But perhaps you still need more time to fully explore that.

So far? I've managed to kill my coffee maker and my alarm clock. Knocked out a polar bear, too. [ He spreads a hand open, frowning down at his hand. ]

Would be handy if I could get in some practice, but I don't really have a lot of cash to spend on seeing how many things I can break.

So it's just as effective against sentient life as it is toward machines? I could see how control issues could cause some inconvenience.

If it activates inconsistently rather than being a constant effect, that means it has a trigger, some way to activate it. The key is to discover that.

Looks like it. I don't really like not being in control of myself.

[ He cups his hand around the cigarette and lights it, exhaling smoke away from Hank and staying downwind as best as he can. ]

The first time, I was tired because I just woke up. The second, I was trying not to get myself or my boss killed. Not sure what the two have in common.

Opportunities conducive to unconscious action, perhaps. In one case before you were fully coherent, the other driven by self-preservation and adrenaline.

It's a theory, at least. The second is is a common occasion for one's abilities to manifest.

Yeah, some kid said I should try getting run over to see if I could find out my powers that way. He's a mutant, so maybe you know him -- Quentin Quire?

I...do. And I can't say that kind of a suggestion isn't atypical of him.

[Though it may actually work, but it isn't the kind of maneuver one would jump right into, either. Not until you're confident of the outcome.] We do have some training routines we could put you through, see if that wouldn't narrow down our possibilities while also giving you the opportunity to practice your control over the findings.

Honestly, that could be pretty handy. [ The biggest issue, though, is whether or not he has the time. Still, if he can find other members for the security team - well, that'll free him up a bit, won't it? But he doesn't much like the idea of leaving Mitch's safety up to someone else.

Not because of a lack of skill, but it just doesn't sit well with him to trust his friend's back to people he doesn't know. ]

He mentioned that he doesn't go to school. [ Back to Quentin, suddenly. ]

[Well, it isn't like that's a sore spot or anything. Nope, not at all.]

Do you know how an omega-level telepath negotiates his way out of classes?

[ Sorry, Hank! ]

I don't even know what an omega-level anything is, so...

Essentially, it's a mutant whose abilities have reached their full potential, and can be utilized to an unlimited extent.

And he's just a teenager?

Sounds like a recipe for disaster.

Called it in one.

It's a problem I have really have no reasonable solution to.

Maybe you'll get lucky and he'll live long enough to grow out of it. [ The wryness of his tone suggests he thinks not, though. ]

Seems like he's got it in for the boss, too.

Well, "growing out of it" is an eventual result. It doesn't solve the immediate problem.

I guess it wouldn't. [ He looks faintly apologetic. He doesn't really have much experience in dealing with mutant teenagers, sorry Hankbro. ]

And the reason that's really notable is because I still haven't really found something that does yet.

[It's rough, Rick, being a teacher is a pretty thankless job.]

It takes a lot to get through to someone who won't listen. [ He may not be a teacher, but he can sympathize with not being appreciated for trying to do his job. ] 'least he hasn't managed to blow the City up yet, right?

Yet being the key word, there. Which isn't to say he's been on his best behavior, but...well, what can I really do in response? I'm not really in a position where exerting my authority is either my place or within my capabilities.

[Not really a student, nowhere near as powerful. The best thing he can do use is guilt trips, and those don't really work.]

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