2019-12-14 - Condo Fail

Summary:

Bigotry still alive and well in NYC; Hank fails to buy a condo due to racism. :D

Log Info:

Storyteller: None
Date: Sat Dec 14 11:23:00 2019
Location: RP Room 6

Related Logs

None

Theme Song

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betty-branthank-mccoy

.~{:--------------:}~.


Type "+thelp" for help.


After their exchanged texts, Hank finished up his drive to the city in jig time, actually arriving outside Betty's building about five minutes early! He parks his beloved blue Grenada at the curb, and then heads on upstairs with a lively bounce to his step. When he gets to her door, he knocks and offers her a bouquet of red, pink and lavender roses which he presents with a flourish. "Hello, dear lady. If you are ready, the car is downstairs."

He's dressed in a black suit and matching trenchcoat, the real deal complete with grenade loops and everything, and sports a fedora. The look is actually one he carries off quite well.


The steps to her home were metal and along the outside of the building. She wasn't in a complex but more so living atop a street-side shop. At the sound of knocking, he can hear her unlatching her collection of locks. Opening the door, she smiles out toward him, her eyes growing as she looks up and down his figure. "Oh, Henry…what are you dressed up for?" Accepting the flowers, she smiles and rests them under her nostrils. Inhaling, lightly, she moves to set them in water before getting ready to leave.

"Let me just grab my coat." Dressed in jeans, knee-high boots and a sweater dress, she pauses by the door and gathers up her winter coat. Pressing up, she kisses his cheek and closes the door behind them. Setting locks with five different keys, she moves down the steps with him, holding to the slack of his sleeve's cuff.


"Oh, I just like to make a good impression when I apartment hunt. If I dress up a bit I'm less imposing physically." Hank smiles as she accepts the flowers, and even leans down a bit to facilitate her kiss. "If you crush a bit of aspirin and add it to the the water they'll take longer to wilt." He offers helpfully, waiting just inside the door as she deals with the flowers.

He smiles as he sees her outfit, and then gets the door for her, waiting as she locks up, and more than happy to let her hold to his sleeve.

"So…we'll be heading to Greenwich Village, I used to live there and liked the neighborhood, there's a fairly nice condo available, I was also looking at something near Washington Street Park, but that's for another day if I don't end up getting this one." He circles around the car to get her door, and once she's seated he joins her. "How was your day?"


Slipping into her seat, she makes herself comfortable before setting her belt into place. Waiting for him, she smiles his way and nods. "You know, if you want, I can help you find a place, too. I have a few connections here and there. I don't want you missing about because someone is an asshole." She frowns at that idea, and it was a very true possibility. Settling into her jacket, she nestles down and closes her eyes. "How was the drive in? You're…upstate, aren't you?"


He settle in, buckles up and removes his hat, because Hank doesn't like driving in a hat. Playfully, he sets it on Betty's head and is careful to put it at an angle so it doesn't just flop down and engulf her. "I hadn't thought to ask, actually." He smiles back to the woman. "I will have to take shameless advantage of your connections then. Thank you, love." Hank starts the engine and signals before he flows into traffic and gets things underway.

"I actually made good time." A nod and an 'Mm'. "Salem Center, about sixty miles or so northeast of Manhattan, near the Connecticut border." He looks over to her, queuing up some big band music on his audio system. "So…in your text you mentioned powers, am I correct in assuming you've developed some already?"


"You travel a hour in and out of this city for work?" She gives a low whistle - anyone that commutes into the city is like a soldier to her. Keeping the hat in place, she rests it just so and offers him a wink. "You're welcome, too, but the pleasures all mine. If we can find you somewhere to be comfortable that's all the thanks I need."

"I think so. The last time I was with my mentors, we read runes and I have an idea of where to…attempt to focus. I'm learning to fight, too." Reaching over, she rests her hand on the man's thigh. "Thank you for helping me with that scripture. Figuring it out will make things easider for me. It's the Rosetta Stone to my understanding." A pause, she swallows and rests her head back. "I've started getting flashes of visions. Some don't make sense. Others have clues. So far I can't control them. Sometimes, they happen when I'm least expecting them. I can't tell you how many times I've already almost been taken down by traffic, both foot and automotive."


"Ninety minutes most days, actually, a bit less when traffic is lighter like late at night or on holidays." Hank smiles. "Mostly my work is in Salem Center, but I do consult with SHIELD, and I speak fairly often at the universities here." Hank grins hugely when she accepts the hat, and even winks. "Oh, that's very nice." He says with laughter warm in his words.

"It sounds like you're making very solid progress, I'm glad that the translation work helped." He drives carefully, as they talk, very safe driver is Hank.

He frowns however when Betty mentions almost getting run down. "That's not good. Shall I hire you a driver?" He's joking, right? He has to be joking. Doesn't he?


"No, that's fine. I…I'm not really the type of girl to have a driver. I'll be fine, I just have to figure it out. What it means…" Shrugging, she smiles softly and gives his knee a squeeze.

"So tell me about work today? What type of house are we going to?"


One nice thing about an automatic transmission, it mostly frees up one hand, and so Hank covers the hand at his knee, massive fingers curling about and gently enfolding Betty's. "I worry, is all. I don't want you getting hurt." He knows he can't prevent ALL hurt, but that doesn't mean he does not want to!

"It is a brownstone condominium, third of three floors." Hank answers readily enough. "Two bedrooms, hardwood floors, pretty spacious." A nod. "I'll probably make the second bedroom into an office, though I won't host anything sensitive there." A grin. "Well, other than myself, being a sensitive new age guy."


Betty Brant chuckles and smirks. "You're the bee's knees, baby. I promise." Leaving her hand where it was, she turns it only enough so that their fingers can weave together and grip. "It sounds like a great place. I can't wait to see it." Turning her head, she watches outside of the window, tracing after traffic as it flows around them.

"I want to talk to you about something but it can wait until after we've seen your possible new place."


"And that makes you the honey, I could just eat you all up, Betty Brant." Hank's smile is firmly seated. He weaves his fingers with hers, and is mindful that his bigger digits don't cause any comfort issues. The leashed strength of his grip is palpably -there- though he's very gentle. That's Hank - strong but gentle, all the way. "It was a bit out of my price range when I lived in the area before, but now? Now I can afford it." Easily. "I'm actually pretty excited about it." Hank admits.

Her mention of a talk gets Betty a quizzical look, complete with 'Spocked' eyebrow. "Nothing bad, I hope." She doesn't SEEM upset, but…


Betty Brant giggles once more and simply smiles. Silent for a few blocks, she shakes her head. "No, no. NOthing bad at all. At least I hope not. I just wanted to catch up and talk about what I'll be doing next as a…well, I'm a Priestess now. Best I can offer you is honesty." It was still true that, even though she knew what Hank got up to in his spare time, the woman didn't really know what he got up to at all.

"I spoke with Eddie as well. He said he's willing to meet with us. I'm not sure where to go from there, but it's a start." Pause, "I'll be going to a possibly dangerous place for my next mission. I don't think anywhere I'll have to go is not dangerous. They're very story driven? That's not right…parables? There's always tests to the places I have to travel."


Hank can't help but grin a bit foolishly as Betty giggles, his hand squeezing hers tenderly a moment as they drive. That silence is a comfortable one. "What will your duties be as a priestess?" He asks with obvious interest. Sadly a lot of what he does he simply can't speak of due to security clearances and the like, he's not overly fond of the restrictions. He'd much rather share everything, full transparency…alas, he cannot and he's too honorable a man to not adhere to the restrictions.

He nods at the news about Eddie. "That's a start, I have lab access here in the city so we can research if there's a way to at least stabilize their relationship." He looks to Betty. "You did say he shouldn't be separated from the symbiote, correct? That you feared for his life?"


"So far, it's doing as they ask of me. Which I agreed to do before a title or anything of the sort came with it. I think I'll be helping to keep some traditions alive. Not everyday someone goes from loose-Catholic to Pagan and wants to learn more." The woman muses lightly, turning her hand slightly so she can toy against the man's massive palm. "I travelled with others to a realm of fire before. We were searching for a powerful gem. Now there's something else I have to reclaim that's in an underworld of sorts. I'm going from Norse to Celtic - they're rather oddly connected, the lot of them."

"Well, if I had my way, he'd be rid of that thing and start healing. I don't think that's a possibility now, though. They're too much one in the same, so pulling one apart could kill them both now." Licking her lips, she shakes her head. "I can't risk Eddie like that. Not if we can help it."


"What an exciting opportunity." Hank says with genuine interest. "To learn about a faith /directly/ from the Gods it venerates, that's got to be unique and scary and beautiful all wrapped in one huge synergistic ball." Hank smiles over to Betty. "A realm of fire? Interesting, world travel is not something I'm well acquainted with though I have been to a few other places." He looks very thoughtful as she mentions the Celtic mythos as well. "Really…I wouldn't have thought them all that closely tied, but I suppose it makes sense in a modern world that largely doesn't follow the old ways. An underworld? So you'd been dealing with a death god or goddess? Arawn perhaps, or Mannanan Mac Lir, the Morrigan, or perhaps Scathach? They're all fairly perilous. Is there anything I can do to help?"

He pulls over then, out front of a brownstone, and puts the car in park as he turns to face Betty.


"It's maddening. I'm excited about it most of the time. I want to do my best and be worthy of the title. But it terrifies me, too. I'm lucky the things I've seen thus far haven't made my brain melt. They tried, though, I can promise you that." She explains, looking up toward the home as they pull up infront of it. As he shifts, she moves to face him in return. Reaching up, she plucks the hat from atop her head and sets it upon his own.

"You know your stuff. More so than I do. I'm a bit jealous." She smiles softly, giving his cheek a tender caress. "The Morrigan. I'll be going to speak with her and hope I don't fall to any of the shades along the path. She has something my God and his Lady require. I go to speak in their place." A glance toward the home, she offers him a smile. "You ready to take a look at this place?"


"I know this feeling." Hank says with a grin. "Like you're running down a hill of broken stone - exhilarating with the speed, with the adrenaline, and terrified to the core of your being as a single misstep will at the very least hurt, and could be deadly? That the feeling?" Hank smiles warmly and nods. "I definitely know this feeling."

He dips his head so she can place the hat properly, a hand adjusting it to settle it properly to suit him. "As to what I know…that's just a freakishly good memory, and boundless curiosity talking." His lips purse thoughtfully. "There is very little that doesn't interest me, and mythology is one of my favorites." He shakes his head when The Morrigan is confirmed. "I don't know her personally of course, but in the things I've read she can be very dangerous, so take as much care as you can. Be polite, that's probably the best advice I can offer. Be polite. Celts were very keen on such."

And then he grins and nods. "I am ready if you are, Miss Brant." He leans forward to kiss her brow. "Shall we?"


"I guess you'll have to teach me sometime. What you know. Help me study like you already are? You're doing so much for me as it is, I don't want to tire you out." Leaning closer, she accepts the kiss with a soft smile on her features. "Yes, we shall." It takes her only a moment to slip out of the car and wrap her arm around Hank's massive limb.


"I've rather an eclectic set of interests, dear lady, of course I'll be happy to offer insights I can. Perhaps some suggested reading lists you might find of use? I confess to little knowledge of /actual/ magic, but I am sure there's useful info to be gleaned all the same." Hank grins toothily. "You are never tiresome." He quips lightly as he offers her his arm.

He leads them to the door and rings the bell. "I confess I'm a bit nervous, haven't condo shopped in a while." It is only a few moments before they're buzzed in, and a voice calls down from the stairs leading up. "Second floor, Mister McCoy."

Once they get up there the Owner turns, going through his key ring and /freezes/ on seeing Hank. "Oh." Softly breathed, and not the friendliest of sounds.


"Oh, I don't know. You're rather magical yourself." She teases. Perhaps some of the McCoy cheese is rubbing off on yon fair Brant. Kissing the side of his arm, she moves in step with him and waits to be buzzed up to the second floor.

Once there, she greets the realtor with a brilliant smile. However, at his reaction, her own fades instantly. "Oh…what?" She asks bluntly, looking toward Hank and then back to the nameless man with his keys. "Is there something on our faces, Mr…?"


A snort of amusement at the comment. "You, dearest Betty, are entirely biased." Hank says with complete approval in his deep bass voice. He hugs her as she kisses his arm and then lightly heads up the stairs to speak with the current owner.

The 'Oh' is definitely interpreted by Hank in a less than positive light. "Oh." Hank says, a bit of a sigh to the words. He was about to turn away when Betty bristles.

The owner is a bit taken aback by her comment at first, then his gaze hardens. "'Oh, I didn't know my potential buyer was a mutie'." He clarifies. "Thank you for your interest, Mister McCoy but I think I'll decline your offer, thank you."

Yes, he is ignoring Betty. That's sure to work well for him!


"So I'm guessing that mutant money and other people's money spends differently?" Betty questions, moving to stand in front of Hank now as if protecting him. "You'd also have to be pretty daft to not know who the hell Hank McCoy is. By all counts, his credentials add up and add up well. You'd have a steady tenant, well mannered and with a heavy helping of respect for your property." A pause, "That and I had no idea that discrimnation was accepted under Tenant Protection Act." A blink, she looks up to Hank. "Are they? Y'know, I know a very good lawyer in Hell's Kitchen if that's the case."


Irritated, the landlord looks to Betty again. "Visconti, Penn Visconti, miss." And then he smiles utterly falsely. "Well, I don't have to sell to anyone, famous or not." Clearly the guy didn't know of Hank's credentials. "I don't have to state a reason, you can infer what you like, but do you really want to involve a lawyer in this? I doubt you can prove anything." He adds rather smugly.

The tone is what gets Hank, the disrespect to his girl. He pointedly ignores the man, but his dander is up. Looking towards Betty, he nods. "Oh, I'm sure we could get injunctions to tie up the property for months, even longer. No sales while the case is active after all." Yes, a bit vicious. "However, honestly? I'm not sure I want to buy a home steeped in such venom, still, should definitely report on this. If nothing else I can post to Yelp and the like." He turns to Mister Visconti, who is visibly sweating as he ads. "And we should definitely talk to your lawyer friend, Miss Brant."

And THAT name the guy DOES know! He's really sweating now. "Well, perhaps…perhaps I misspoke…"

Hank shakes his head. "…oh no, that ship has sailed, there's plenty of places out there. I think we'll proceed with reporting and such, and leave you to it." Turning back to Betty he smiles. "Shall we?"


"Penn. Vis-con-ti." She repeats as her hands dig into her bag to pull out a tattered up notepad. It was not lost on anyone that the 'con' section of the man's name had some emphasis to it. "Mmm, it's not about fame. It's about knowing someone's character. Shining example you have here."

Then Hank speaks, the Betty offers that kind, yet cutting, smile once more. "I agree, Henry. On to the next on the list. Didn't know I'd be house shopping with you /and/ getting a story for tomorrow." Slipping the notebook away, she holds to Hank's arm and offers a wave back to the landlord. "Have a good evening, Mr. Visconti."


"Please…" The man says as Hank offers Betty his arm once more and leads them down the stairs. Only Betty could feel the faint trembling of his arm, or see the flared nostrils, and the clenched jaw. Hank is /furious/, but…he won't give Visconti the satisfaction of seeing it. SHE will know, but nobody else will likely.

Once they're outside, he sighs. "I'm sorry, Betty. That did not go as well as I'd hoped." He takes a moment, and it is fairly impressive how thoroughly he quashes that rage. It would probably piss her off to realize he had to learn that skill if she notes it. "So…shall we head back to your place, or grab a bite to eat?"


To that sensation, Betty grips tighter, offering the massive man some stability. Once outside, she exhales smoothly. "Don't you dare apologize to me. That asshole doesn't deserve you feeling that way. You have a right to be angry." She explains, looking up and over his features. She frowns. "The question is are /you/ ok? Nothing should go that way for your and others like you."

Nodding, she rubs at his arm. "If that's what you'd rather do, I'm ok with either. Maybe I can make a few calls and get you a place to look at next? I know a few places that were out of my range. I'll show them to you." She offers with a gentle smile.


Hank smiles more genuinely, clearly the big guy just doesn't cling to rage, despite the clear evidence of him having a bit of a temper. "Oh, I am angry, no question. But I can't afford to be." He clarifies. "With my physical strength a fit of temper could injure or even kills someone. And I shudder to think of the property damage I could inflict." Hank covers, more blankets, Betty's hand on his arm as she rubs. "I am okay." He adds.

A firm nod then. "Which would you rather, bite to eat, or back to your place? I'm good with either, both have their appeal."


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