Summary:Helena runs into an unusual visitor in the market. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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It's very late on a Sunday evening and the Nott Street Market is not as busy as it would be first thing in the morning, but neither is it empty of souls looking for bargains; or illegal activities sponsored by the local Triads. One person who is here for neither is the tall redhead watching the lobsters in one of the glass cases filled with murky water. A frown on her face as she studies them with an occasional glance at the aged vendor having a loud conversation in Cantonese with a younger man. The redhead dressed in boots, pants, sweater and long coat; though they lean more towards thrift shop chic than something stylish. They're also about ten years out of date stylistically.
It's later on a Sunday evening than Helena should really be out and in the city, but to her credit, at least she's not out in costume. That would probably get her in some deep, hot water of her own. But she's also not wanting to go home until her parents have headed out for their own evening activities. Best way to do that is to just…stay out late. In jeans and a black leather jacket, she fits in with most people, though she's obviously a little young to be here and out at the moment, coltish limbs all slender lines and hard angles. Maybe she's just another party girl looking for a score?
The redhead steps up to the glass tank and lightly taps against it with her fingernails. She takes a moment to glance around. The vendor is preoccupied. Most of the other customers are engrossed in their own lives - usually via staring at the phone in their hand. There is the young girl in the leather jacket but she hardly seems a threat; probably lost judging by the way others leer at her. So, it's perfectly safe for the redhead to punch through the glass of the tank. The water streams out, along with the lobsters, as she steps back without a scratch to her hand. Now the vendor is aware. He screams at her, grabbing a broom to deal street market justice before advancing towards her.
Uh…That's new.
Helena pauses when she hears the breaking glass, brows rising when she sees what's happened. Quickly, she puts a few pieces of information together. One: that woman isn't bleeding. Two: Someone's going to be bleeding if this situation doesn't get resolved. Three: Money fixes almost everything.
Helena jogs over toward the chaos and the broom, holding out her hands to the vendor. "Whoa, hey, ah, I'm sure it was just an accident," she says, glancing to Mera. "Right?"
As the man advances towards her, Mera's hands clench into fists as she takes a stance that looks protective of the scurrying lobsters. Not that they scurry far. They're more confused than anything else, their claws still taped closed. And then there's the girl in the leather jacket trying to be a peacemaker.
A curious arching of Mera's brow as she is addressed. "No" is her succinct reply. "The water is filthy. They would die in there." That they may die on a dinner plate anyway is a different issue. The redhead's tone rather imperious. "This man should be imprisoned." All Mera's diplomat training coming to the fore.
"Ooookay, let's try this again." Helena takes a look around the street, making a quick count of the lobsters she can see and then doing some quick math in her head. Reaching into her jacket, she counts out about five hundred dollars, offering it out to the man. "That should cover it, right? And a new tank that's, uh…cleaner?"
She doesn't really wait for an answer, instead turning to look to Mera. "If you're really that worried about the lobsters, you probably want to, uh…" Stepping past the vendor, she reaches for a bucket. "Let's throw this in. And maybe you can collect those lobsters before they get run over."
The paper being offered to the vendor has Mera looking confused but the vendor looking much happier. He would barter proud animals for…paper? The vendor grins at Helena before his business instincts kick in. "Seven hundred…and another hundred for the air filter. I will throw in the bucket for free." He's a saint.
Mera takes the bucket and starts to pick up the lobsters she can find while the humans do their strange ritual. It looks a bit cramped in there but it is better than leaving them to the mercy of the customers who see an opportunity to grab one for free. A twist of the redhead's hand and water rises from the ground, leaving the dirt and filth behind, before filling the bucket around the lobsters. "I have them" she informs Helena before looking for all the world as if she's just going to head off, in the direction of the shore.
"You'll take what you got and the nice lady here will probably not punch you if you keep your mouth shut because we'll be busy liberating lobsters," Helena counters pointedly. She didn't have to intervene with any money, after all. Admittedly, there's definitely some curiosity there. "So, thanks. Mend your ways. Be nicer to the lobsters."
On that note, she's jogging after Mera, as much to see what she's going to do as for any potential damage control. "They tape the claws," she adds helpfully, tagging along after the other woman. "So you should probably cut that before you let them go somewhere. Do you, uh…I mean, is there actually a good place to release lobsters here?"
The vendor smiles apologetically to Helena, even giving her a little bow, before taking the five hundred and tucking it away. He was just joking about the extra money. Though all that cash has got the attention of a pair of young men watching from the shadows. They follow the two women.
"They are afraid of them" Mera notes about the taped claws. "They have no courage or honor. I will cut them." The redhead doesn't slow down as she looks over the teenager. "Any place is better for the lobsters than where they were. I will release them away from the shore. Away from the pollution." Her brow furrows. "How can you live with such filthy water?" A shake of her head to suggest it was a rhetorical question. "Thank you for your assistance" she adds in a softer tone.
"Filtration," Helena answers almost absently. "Even water's processed these days. I guess it creates jobs though?" Things she hasn't thought all the way through, but will be considering later. At the thanks, she simply shrugs. "I'm pretty sure I was helping him more than I was helping you," she points out, nodding toward her hand. "Not a lot of people can punch glass without getting cut. Or, you know. Control water."
She's probably noted the tail, but given her observations about her current companion, she's not going to press them yet. "You're not wrong about the lobsters, just…there're usually better ways to go about it."
A sly smile from Mera as she nods once. "Yes, you were helping him more than I." She glances at her hand, pouting a little now at having let her emotions get the better of her; Mera is on a clandestine mission after all. "Will you tell anyone what you have seen? I would rather you did not." It sounds more like a request than a threat.
"There may be better ways but I do not think they would have survived long enough to be liberated another way. Even if they are to be food, they should be respected. And consumed, not left to fade away and thrown out with the refuse." Mera seems to be getting a bit emotional again but she calms herself with a deep breath. "I am sorry."
The two men are moving a bit faster now, closing the gap between them and the women as the lights of the market slip further away. The alleyways are a lot darker now.
"I promise not to tell anyone what I saw if you promise not to tell anyone about what's about to happen," Helena replies to Mera with a rueful smile of her own. Secrets, she understands. Even the reason why they're being followed, she understands. But that doesn't mean she's going to make it easy.
"You may want to put the lobsters aside," she suggests. "Before the two guys following us decide it's time to make their move."
"What is about to happen?" Mera asks innocently before looking over her shoulder at their two friends. "They are not with you?" She delicately puts the bucket down before turning to face the now grinning men. Mera could destroy them in an instant but Helena has her intrigued. It sounded like this teenager, who looks to be all long limbs and wallet, was going to take these men on - she'd like to see this.
The men walk towards them with a swagger learned from movies but that doesn't really work in real life. "You" one of them says with a smirk as he points to Helena. "You got anymore money? Me and my friend here, we're homeless and could really do with help from those with more. Could do with some affection too."
Helena's nose wrinkles, her lip curling. "Okay, see, maybe if you'd stuck with the charity angle, I could've taken pity on you. But now you're just being gross." She looks over her shoulder toward Mera, pointing a thumb at the men. "Are you sure you don't want to work out some of that aggression? These guys are probably really disrespectful of lobsters. Maybe even octopi. Which is a bad idea," she adds as she looks back toward the men. "Those things are smart."
It's hard to tell exactly when she starts moving. One second she's all mouth, and the next second she's stepped forward toward the talker, sliding past him and twisting his arm up behind him just long enough to unbalance him and shove him into his companion. Warning shot over the bow.
Mera would love to deal with these men, but would that be a diplomatic incident? A reason for two worlds to go to war? If it ended up being self-defense though… And then Helena is surprising both Mera and the two men. The teenagers actions getting a soft smile from the redhead. But only anger from the men.
The silent one, once he has steadied himself, draws a pistol to aim at the women. The talker shows his erudition by grunting angrily while shaking out his arm. "Big mistake. Now we won't be gentlemen. Give us the fucking money. Both of you."
"Do you mean that paper? I have no money" Mera deadpans in reply before pulling out a small bag from her coat pocket. It jingles with coins. "I only have gold coins. Is it not used anymore?"
When the guns come out, Helena doesn't have anything clever to say. Mostly because once guns come out, things are serious. Unfortunately for the men, Helena is much more forgiving when there aren't guns than after they make their appearance.
When Mera jingles her purse, Helena makes her move. The gun is first. She steps in, grabbing the man's wrist in one hand with her thumb digging into the nerve there, while the other elbow comes down hard on his elbow. Once the gun starts to drop, she releases his wrist to catch it, quickly and deftly disassembling and unloading it before tossing the pieces down the alley.
"Still have time to decide this was a bad move, guys," she offers, squaring herself off once more.
The men stare at Helena, one of them clutching his elbow and grimacing with pain, the other wondering if he left the oven on back home. He grabs the other man on the good arm before nodding behind them. "We just wanted to make sure you two were safe" the talker smiles nervously. "Bad neighborhood this time of night." The other nods in agreement before they take a couple of casual steps backwards…then turn and sprint away.
"Very impressive" Mera smirks to the teenager. "I have a feeling that you would also not get cut if you punched glass." She offers her hand like the cultural educators taught her. "I am Mera. You are not what you seem to be…but how many of us are?"
Helena watches the men until they're definitely gone, only letting out a breath once she's sure. "I would totally get cut," she replies to Mera, smile rueful as she turns back to take the offered hand. "Glass is a lot sharper than those two, though. I'm Helena," she introduces herself in turn. "Nice to meet you, Mera."
She moves toward the alley then, collecting the pieces of the gun and slipping them into her pocket. Best not to leave that out in the open. "My dad's kind of paranoid about muggers," she explains. "So he made sure I knew how to handle them."
A little laugh from Mera at the sharpness of their would be assailants. "Nicely said. It is good when a father trains their children to prepare for the ills of the world" the redhead agrees. She has a similar father, though his fear is less of muggers and more of assassins. "It is nice to meet you too, Helena." She's pretty sure that is the correct reply in return. "Does this kind of thing happen often in this city? I had heard it was dangerous…and the ruins on the other shore would suffest that much worse can happen too."
"It happens more than it should," Helena admits, grimacing. "There are people who try to help, to make it better, but…Well. There's a lot that goes on in the city that makes for crime. Societally, there are bigger issues. Poverty, substance abuse. Domestic abuse. All of them create cycles that push people into doing things they should know better than to do."
The mention of the ruins quiets her for a moment. "The disaster zone's a whole different ball of wax, though."
"It seems you all like to hurt each other" Mera notes with a frown. "And I have already seen how you treat lesser creatures." She means the lobsters rather than the muggers. "You are one of the people who tries to make things better, Helena? I think you have your cut out work for you. So many resources but people are still in poverty and hunger?" A shake of her head. "Greed will destroy us all."
Mera can't help but notice the hesitancy about the disaster. "What happened? Did it have anything to do with the giant sea creatures that attacked the city recently?"
"The disaster zone? No, that's an old one," Helena shakes her head, grimacing. "It's been a few years. Which…is kind of just more to the point, I guess. You'd think in a place like Manhattan, the real estate would be valuable enough to get around to rebuilding, but. Then again not, apparently." She pauses, looking over with a tilt of her head. "Giant…sea creatures?"
"Why rebuild when you can steal new land?" Mera shrugs; her opinion of landlubbers is not high. Still, Helena may be onto something there. That area could be worth investigating. There must be a reason it is ignored. "Yes, giant sea creatures? You are unaware of this? A few weeks ago. A giant squid I believe it was…but with nine arms."
"I definitely would have remembered that," Helena says with a faint, rueful smile, shaking her head. "But giant squids are a little bit above my pay grade." She rolls her eyes a bit, looking away. "But hey, ask some people and just about anything is above my pay grade, so. Maybe giant squids aren't all that bad. Although they probably need less rescuing than the lobsters do."
"I wasn't planning on rescuing it. It's more where the mutation came from and why it attacked the city." Mera looks a little confused. "Pay grade? You get paid to do good works?" Why doesn't this surprise her about the landlubbers. "I shall have to ask someone who gets paid more then. Do you know any?"
"No, I- It's a saying. Sorry. I'm usually better at that." Helena rubs a hand at the back of her neck, considering her words again. "In the military here, rank comes with pay raises, basically. So it's sometimes referred to as a pay grade. It also doesn't necessarily mean that you're in the military if you use it. It's just a saying that's crossed over into civilian life."
She starts toward the nearest waterside, hands in her pockets. "I'm just baseline human. Trained, but I don't have any powers. But if you've got questions about weird, big things, you usually want to talk to the Avengers."
"So, you talk about a pay grade though pay is not involved and neither are ranks or grades." Makes perfect sense to Mera. Time to move on. "I have heard of the Avengers. Were they not disbanded? It seems my information was incorrect on that. Perhaps I am not in the right 'pay grade'. Did I use that correctly?" A little smirk before adding. "You are hardly baseline human. Baseline humans are those who wanted to do us harm. You are above that. Did you train in the military?"
"Privately," Helena shakes her head. "My dad…" She takes a breath, letting it out in a huff that sounds almost like a laugh. "Wow. You know, I don't usually have to explain it. People here usually know the story. My dad was orphaned when a mugger killed his parents in front of him. So he's always been kind of paranoid about me being able to defend myself. So…" Shrugging, she trails off.
As cover stories go, it's not a bad one at least.
"The Avengers aren't disbanded though. They had a rough patch over the whole registration thing, but they're still operating. If you need to get in touch with them, though, I can give you a number."
"You are famous? It is good when a father ensures that their children can protect themselves. We cannot rely on them forever. And would we want to? I apologise if I should know who you are" Mera notes with a slight smile. The sound of the water lapping against the shore can be heard now.
"A number for the Avengers would be good, thank you. An address would be better" Mera replies. "You have been very helpful, Helena, it is nice to meet someone like this. Would you care for one of the lobsters?"
"I'm not," Helena laughs, smile easy. "Not really, at least. My dad is, though. And…" She pats her pockets, rummaging around in them. "I'm guessing you don't have a cell phone. So I'll write it down." Once she manages to find a pen and a scrap of paper, she pulls up a number on her phone to copy it over.
"This is Captain America's number. Tell him Helena told you to call him. And Avengers mansion is at this address," she adds, scribbling it down before she passes over the paper. The offer of the lobster gets a wry smile. "I'm okay, thanks. They'll probably be happier wherever you're taking them than anywhere I'd put it."
"Who is your father?" Mera asks, trying to sound nonchalant but definitely interested. It could be the President of New York! That would certainly help her get in touch with the right people. "A cell phone? A communicator of some kind." She pulls out a small object from her pocket that looks like it could be a phone of some kind though not of a design that Helena would have seen before. Mera takes the offered paper, glances at it, and then runs her 'phone' over it like a scanner. A three dimensional image of the Avengers Mansion appears over the device for a moment, Mera taking in the details. "Thank you, Helena of the Famous Father. You do know that I will eat some of these lobsters. As long as they are honored beforehand, all is well."
"I'm reassured that you're going to eat them, honestly," Helena admits with a faint smirk. "I mean. I'm not one hundred percent sure where you're from, but I was also not prepared to find out that lobsters are a lot smarter than we've thought." When the communicator comes out, her brows rise, interest piqued. Her fingers actually twitch a bit.
"Is that- Could I, ah? Could I see that?" she asks, nodding toward the device. New technology! "Bruce Wayne," she adds, absently. "That's my dad. Wayne Tech."
"Lobsters are resiliant rather than smart. Though simplicity has its virtues. One never dwells on the bad when the world is taken at face value. Though that can be dangerous too." Mera sighs at the complexitites of existance but it wouldn't be fun without them. She seems hesitant to hand over her device…but Helena seems an honest sort. "Bruce Wayne…ah, yes, rich. I have heard of this man and his company." Reluctantly, she hands over her communicator, watching carefully that it doesn't disappear or get taken apart. "I am from Atlantis."
Helena would love to take it apart. So very much. But it would be rude. So she settles for a very close inspection of it. "Atlantis, like…the sunken city? Ancient Greek legends?" You'd think that most people would find that a little less than believable. But then, most people didn't get bedtime stories about magic from an actual mage.
"That tracks, actually," she muses to herself as she continues to poke at the communicator. "To survive the depths, you'd have to be able to withstand extreme pressure and temperatures, which is why you didn't cut yourself on the glass. And why it broke. And why'd you'd have enhanced strength. You can see in the dark too, can't you?" she guesses, glancing up.
"We existed before the Greeks" Mera explains with a little sniff of superiority. "Though that is when the city sank beneath the waves. Best thing to happen for us. Don't press that button." That last said rather sternly as she watches Helena poking and prodding. "Yes, I can see in the dark when I need to. And, yes, I can swim very fast too. No, I don't have gills or fins." Get that out of the way before the questions get too private.
Helena's smile quirks at the last, looking up with a quirk of her brow. "I mean, I can see where fins and gills would be useful." At the direction not to push the button, she respectfully moves her finger firmly away from it. Respect the alien technology. "Thank you," she says as she passes it back. "It's…I'd love to see more some day."
"You are a curious soul" Mera smirks as she takes back the device and pockets it. "And a good soul. This is a combination that is worthwhile…and unlike many of your kind. Perhaps, I will take you to Atlantis one day in return for your kindness and assistance, Helena, Daughter of Bruce, Knight of the Night." The sea in front of them now, Mera frowns a little at the lapping waters. "So dirty. So much could be done but no one bothers. Are you sure I cannot interest you in a lobster?"
"You know, I'm actually more of a crab person," Helena shakes her head at the offer of a lobster, smile crooked. "Besides, I don't know how they're meant to be honored either. But I would very much like to see Atlantis some time. And maybe…" Her smile deepens just a bit, as if she's found some respite of her own in the conversation. "Maybe some day we can talk about fixing some of those problems we were talking about too. Always a way to make the world a little bit better, right?"
"There is always a way if there is a desire" Mera nods in agreement before nodding to the lobsters in her bucket. "Give them a good life and a quick death. That is what any of us would want, is it not?" She offers her hand to her new acquaintance. "The next time I see you, I shall give you crabs."
Helena presses her lips together against a laugh, the corners of her eyes crinkling with mirth. "So, speaking of idioms, that one usually refers to a small parasite that also looks like crabs and generally affects the, ah. Genital region. So maybe avoid that phrase." All the same, she reaches for the offered hand, her grip comfortable and firm. "It was nice meeting you, Mera. Don't lose that number. I'm sure Captain Rogers will be happy to help you."