Summary:While strumming in Central Park, Roy meets with a visitor from another dimension. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
Related LogsTheme SongNone |
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LOCATION: A few dimensions down the street…
"DESTROYER!" Marksman drew the super-rifle (made by Henderson Electronics) and aimed at the large, boxy machines set up behind the masked megalomaniac, who turned to face him, his death's-head visage watching him scornfully.
Teresa, AKA Flare, used the opportunity to fly in to reach the trapped Rose. "Don't worry! I'll get you out of here!" she whispered quickly, trying to work the bindings.
Quasar and the Enchantress were being kept busy by the rest of the team, including Doc Arcane. Flare figured if she could just get this latch to work…
Meanwhile, in Central Park:
A fall day has come into blossom in the city. The leaves of the trees have started their slow turn from the vibrant greens of the summer to the darkening colors of the autumn as they march into the progression that will give them the sweet release from life and to become one with the earth again. People are milling around the park on the chilly day, enjoy the company of each other, of solitude, or in some cases, just a chance to perform.
Set up on a bench in the park, Roy's dressed down in a hoodie, a pair of jeans, comfortable boots, and his red hair tucked underneath a hat. His pale skin is already slightly ruddy from the chill in the air, making his freckles all the more prominent as he plays his guitar and sings along.
"I don't understand it either,
How noises of subtle nuances,
Like to bloom randomly,
from the corners of my mind."
The strumming of the guitar is helped with the artifical arm handling the base of the guitar while his real hand works the fret board.
Marksman takes careful aim.
"YOU WILL NOT SHOOT ME," Dr. Destroyer intones. "YOU CLING TO YOUR ANTIQUATED MORALITY!"
"You're right…I'm not going to shoot you."
The bonds pop open, and Flare removes the impediment headband. "Go, Rose!" she hisses, and Rose levitates herself out of the chamber. Flare looked around. Where was the crystal the mad Doctor was using…
Marksman fires, the beam of energy going into the machine behind the arch-villain, and suddenly the machine explodes in a shower of energy.
"YOU FOOL! YOU HAVE SEALED YOUR FATE!" He actually sounded angry instead of superior, as if this was all part of his plan, too.
The feedback from the energym burst ran into the backup generator, overloading the refined crystal receptacle…
And then a hole opened in the world, a rip in the fabric of space and time, right before the crystal exploded.
In Central Park, the air seemed to tear apart, as a jagged hole fringed in red appeared in a flash of light. A harsh bright light appeared from the hole in spacetime, and suddenly a woman was hurled through it.
She was wearing the traditional superhero template—a strapless bodysuit with French-cut thighs, black except for the thin eight-pointed star on her midsection. A white cape with a brooch collar and white heeled boots bloused at the ankles complete the ensemble.
She looked up to see the hole and Arcane saying something about how it was all going to come down. She got to her feet just as angry red light flooded the rip and it closed with a hollow bang.
"NO!!" she screamed, feet still planted, staring at the hole which was no longer there…
"As I try to uncover my dreams,
and try to organize my moral dilemma,
in files too heavy
and cabinets too broken—"
As Roy continues to perform, the redheaded park diziden doesn't seem to notice at first the goings on, that is until there is the noise behind him. The angry whinny of one of the park's horses. Birds taking to sudden flight to get away from what they sense.
"I can only see all of it,
through a hypnogogic lens.
Primrose tint of love and desire,
deception and conception of my ego."
He continues to play a little bit longer, until there's the snap /pop/ of ozone being ripped asunder, the heavy scent hanging in the air of a void that was formed one minute, and then a form is pushed through and arrives uncerimoniously on the other side, breaking through and landing rather spectacularly in the middle of the park..
"Birth of my ego, let go ego,
destroy yourself ego, undo yourself ego.
Burn yourself;
Rip me open, I want to shed my skin."
There won't be anymore continuing that song as the young woman makes her appearance, and Roy sticks the pick between his teeth as he unstraps the guitar and presses a pad on his arm. "This is Consultant Arsenal in Central Park. May want to roll a couple of trucks and a bus. Seems we have a visitor.. and I'm not sure where she'd put a passport on the outfit she's wearing."
Tucking the guitar into the case, he reaches in to take out the other item that as within and unfolds his bow, snapping it into place as he knocks a couple of arrows from the back. Just in case. With that, he decides to approach the new arrival with a bit of hesitation. "That looked like complete suckage. You're not here to like.. destroy the sun or something, eh?"
The woman turns around and her eyes are wild for a moment…but then her body posture eases as she looks around. She frowns. "Coriolis must be in…vas ist…?"
She looks at Roy, then takes a deep breath Roy can see, and says, "My name is Teresa Karan, code name Flare. I'm with the Champions. Can you tell me where I am? It looks like a big city, but I am not…wait. Is this New York?"
"The Champions?" Apparently the Champions aren't known in this universe, as Roy watches the young woman for a moment, and then chuckles. "Oh, Dorothy, you aren't in Kansas anymore." he says. Part humor, part sadness. He can only imagine what he's about to do to her, and he lowers the bow. No need to notch an arrow right now. "Yeah, this is New York. But I get a feeling you're about to say this isn't your New York."
"Alright, so. Let's start from the top. Hi Teresa, also Flare. I'm Roy. Folks used to call me Speedy. Go by Arsenal sometimes these days. This is New York, it's 2019. Do you know who the President is?"
Flare is about to speak, then stops. "Wait…no, it's 1993. The President is Bill Clinton. I don't…it's 2019??"
Oh yeah. It's going to be one of those conversations. "Alright. First. You might be a little cold. Need my coat?" Roy looks like he's about to shrug out of it if she needs it, but he's trying to keep things a little light, considering the social shock that's about to happen. "So, you don't know about the Blitz?" he asks, moving closer to the woman. "Or about SHIELD or the Avengers?"
Teresa seems to need a few moments. "…Cold? No, I'm warm enough. The Blitz? World War Two was decades go, sorry. I don't know about a Shield or Avengers. There were the Revengers, but they're in Europe." She sighs. "Do you have the World Wide Web here?"
"Hooboy." Roy quips. "Okay, Sam, we have a lot to go over." It's a Quantum Leap reference that she will probably totally miss out on but he's already working on trying to figure out things. "Alright, so you're at least time - if not world displaced. SHIELD is a global organization that helps with those things. I work as a consultant with them, and if you want, they'll help you get settled in. I'm not going to try to like put you in handcuffs and stuff though."
"The Avengers are probably a lot like your Champions." he finally decides to start drawing parallels, and then when she asks on the web, he gives a laugh. "Oh lord. 1993. I forgot. AOL is long dead, and dial up is gone." Reaching into his pocket, he takes out his smart phone. Sliding his finger over it in a pattern, he unlocks it. "Hey Google, say hello to Teresa."
"Hello, Teresa!" the phone chirps happily, before he underhand tosses the phone to her. "Browsers on the load screen. I have a lot of security locks on there, but we can go get you a burner phone so you can at least get started on figuring this out. Or at least get you a place set up. Again, SHIELD can help with that."
Teresa catches the phone, but peers at it owlishly. "What is 'Google,' and…Gott en Himmel, I'm asking the stupid questions. This…is a phone? I've been…oh, mein Gott, twenty-six YEARS." She is silent for a moment, not doing anything with the phone other than peering at it. "And no one has heard of my friends…" She covers her mouth with her free hand, and then moves quickly to a nearby park bench to sit down. "I'm…pardon me, I just…" she whispers. "I need a few moments, danke shoen."
"But hey. You didn't age a day?" Roy asks, trying to give her some type of positive spin on it all. But the inevitable has come and he can see the woman become fraught, and his good arm reaches, a light touch to her shoulder in comfort as he considers. "Be right back. I'll grab you a coffee. Or a cocoa. Which would you prefer?"
Flare takes a deep breath. "…I'm very hungry. I could use some food. No, wait…I could use a LOT of food…but I don't have any money." She sighs. "I hate to presume on the kindness of strangers…but would you please help? Or at least direct me to someone who can?"
Roy considers for a moment. "Alright. Here's my question in response to that. You want to take a trip to SHIELD, or you want to roam free for a bit? Because, the first? Room, board, food, all that. Though they're gonna wanna run test and will probably have security on you twenty-four and seven. On the other, I have a bit of cash, don't mind helping out with a meal, but if you're gonna be looking for a job and hiding you're.. well, gonna need clothes and a roof over your head and all that."
And with that, he waits for her to weigh the pros and cons. "There's Mutant Town, they got a lot of outreach and charity and such. But it won't be amazing as what you would have back home."
Teresa turns over the options in her mind.
"All right…before I commit to this Shield group, who are they? Is the name a symbol, or is it one of those initialisms?"
"Stratgetic Homeland something something. They're the good guys. But they're government. So take that as you will. I work for them on freelance. I can at least get you a meal there, but if you're looking to do your own thing?" Roy considers. "Doubt you're a mutant. But there's people in SHIELD that are also with the Avengers, that can get you an in that way." he admits finally as he gives her a glance over. "There's no rush on my part…"
Pulling out his wallet, he thumbs throught it and pulls out a pair of twenties. "This will at least get you a decent meal." he offers to her. With it, he adds his business card. Because he has a few of those. He rarely gives them out. With that, he writes his personal cell number on it. "You decide you need a place to sleep tonight, I have a couch you can crash on. Just call first, gotta let my girl know I have company coming over so she doesn't think I'm being all weird and freaky."
Teresa nods, then pauses. "Wait…your phone. I don't want to take it. Perhaps we could get a…what did you call it? A 'burner' phone? Does that mean it turns to ash when you are finished using it?"
"Naw. Just means you throw it away when you're done." Roy smirks, taking his phone back when she offers it. "If you reload it, you can get one of those for as long as you want." In the distance, a pair of black SUVs pull up, with their distinctive logos on them. "Well, this is it." If she wants to fly away now, she can do so. Or she can go along with him to SHIELD for all the fun stuff that entails.
Teresa looks at the SUVs with a skeptical eye. "Well, I suppose I should not expect rainbows and bright colors, but why is it that all government vehicles look so forbidding? It is a legal requirement? An aesthetic? Or something psychological? I am genuinely curious." She stands up, smoothing her cape and slightly adjusting her costume. "I will not cause trouble. It seems counter-productive for an experienced member of a superhero team to cause trouble, ja hein?"
"I don't know, last time I saw a file with a gal dressed like you, she was pretty evil. Of course, I'm pretty sure she was going with the Victoria's Secret super-wear line." as if there was such a thing. "Yeah, I got lucky. I was unconscious when they pulled me in." Roy admits. As the agents approach, he reaches out to shake one of their hands. "Hey Agent Michaels, this is Teresa. She's a visitor." he leaves it at that. "Anyway, I'll tag along with her back to the Tri, but then you need to make sure she gets fed and such. It's been a hell of a trip."
Well, he certainly seems familiar with them. The symbol is a little off-putting. Her father, mother, and brothers had saluted an eagle that looked a lot like that, on look where THAT had gotten them. It seemed odd to trust the first person she met, but he seemed confident.
Perhaps it would be best to go along for now.
She raised her hands, clad in black fingerless gloves that are flared past the wrists. "My name is Teresa Karan. My code name is Flare. I bear no ill will, and I will accept direction as long as it is delivered with common courtesy."