Summary:Spit out of the Underworld of her People into Washington Park, Jesana makes a new friend in Hank. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
Related LogsTheme SongNone |
  |
.~{:--------------:}~.
Type "+thelp" for help.
It is mid-day, and Hank has been rather busy working on getting his ID updated. Again. Fortunately he has friends in government service, he even works for SHIELD as a contractor, so…a lot of the more annoying red tape goes away. 'A Lot' is not even close to 'All', at the end of the day Hank McCoy has gotten his driver's license and passport up to date with his newly altered form, and then after getting a couple of sub sandwiches from one of his favorite delis and heads out to Washington Square Park, settling down to enjoy some music on wireless earbuds, food, one sandwich in hand, two more in the bag next to him, and the pleasant weather as he people watches.
People watching can be fun and interesting. At times it can ber *very* interesting. This is one of those times. Suddenly, several yards ahead in a spot that isn't easily spotted by anyone passing by, but in direct view of Hank, a woman is dropped out of the air and lands in a crouch, looking around with a wild expression on her face. She's clearly native american, wearing not a lot of white leather and a lot of turquoise and silver jewelry. Realising she's in a park rather quickly, she sighs with an expression of relief and stands up.
It's at this point she notices Hank and blinks twice. Then her dark eyes narrow in on his food and her stomach rumbles. Loudly. "Well, that's a helluva rude greeting." She rolls her eyes, sighs and strolls over and plops onto the bench next to him. After fishing around in a pouch at her hip she sighs. "Dammit. I had two hundred bucks before I got dropped back there. And this, again with this outfit. It's better than being spit out naked in the middle of the street..but geeze. I look like some white dude's Indian wet dream." She eyes Hank's sandwhiches again, slips off a handful of bracelets and offers them in exchange for one with a hopeful smile. "Trade ya for one of those? It's real silver."
You know, Hank should be used to people just materializing out of thin air by now, but he really just isn't. Eyes of yellow study the scantily clad Native American girl with a quirked brow and his sandwich half raised. After a moment as she moves over, and plops down, he can't help but laugh at her fairly good natured complaining. "Oh, well, if I had a dime for every time I ended up somewhere awkward and unexpected when teleporting, I'd have…" He pauses and is dramatically doing the math, fingertips counting as he looks off to one side, lips moving. "…four dollars, and sixty-five cents." A sage nods. "One port failed spectacularly, didn't go anywhere, but the explosion was awkward enough to half count it."
Not only does he wave off the offered silver, not only doe he give her one of the sandwiches, he then proceeds to stand, and remove his windbreaker, and offer it to the woman. "If you're not cold, then at least you can be less fan service dressed, mm?"
Jesana laughs. Oh this guy is alright. She takes the sandwhich and digs in happily. This is day is so much better than the night it was a few minutes ago. Her eyes widen as Hank stands and offers her his jacket. "Holy shit, an actual gentleman!" She smacks herself.. "Sorry. I mean, thank you." She jumps up and quickly slips it on before getting back to scarfing down the food. "The last thing I ate was..well, you don't want to know." She's not cold but she can't remember the last time someone was this nice to her for no reason at all.
"This might sound weird but do you know what day it is?" She asks after several more bites and using some sleight of hand to tuck the bracelets into one of windbreaker's pockets. Heh. She'll repay this kindness somehow. It's only fair. This thought causes her lips to quirk. She decides to give a bit of explanation even if it's not very believable. "I get..taken somewhere, whenever I'm dying or about to die or have some kind of untreatably bad injury. Then eventually I get to leave but I have zero control where I'm sent back. Usually at least it's the same city but.." She shrugs.
"We're a dying breed, it would seem." Hank offers with yellow eyes agleam. The jacket is -huge-, the sleeves long and wide enough that the girl could probably use them as pants. And the shoulder-span is over three feet. Yeah, he's a very very big fellow. To prove his gentlemanly ways, he even holds it open as she slips into it. The thing is still warm, quite warm, from him having wearing it. Under the jacket he's wearing a simple black 'wife beater', and a lot of blue-black fur. The shirt tucked into black khakis and his feet enclosed in size twenty boots, clearly also custom.
"You're most welcome, miss." A fanged smile. "Hank McCoy."
He blinks, and then nods. "Thursday, twenty-seven February anno domini twenty-twenty." He frowns as she explains about her bouncing about. "So…you're here fresh from some sort of dire distress or durance vile?"
She blinks again and settles back onto the bench, patting the seat beside her. "I was.." She frowns. What had it been this time? "I think..there fire..I don't know. Hard to remember. It's not easy to hurt me but I'm not invincible." She thinks harder. "Oh, it was only a week ago. That's not so bad. When I fought that Wendigo it nearly did me in, I was gone for almost a year that time." She smiles at Hank. "I'm Jesana." At least currently, and for the past decade. "You know, your the first person I've met since moving here who doesn't suck, need a good asskicking, shooting or bar's worth of liquer to deal with so it is a pleasure." Jesana winks at him.
She's also not shy about the admiring look she gives his form as it's revealed. She wonders how his sense of smell is. If it's good enough to detect the strong hint of fur on her despite the fact that she's wearing leather. Or that she is definitely checking him out. What? It never hurts to look!
He settles back down, reaching into one of the pockets of the jacket Jesana is currently borrowing, and offers her a bottled water to go with the sandwich. The sub is fairly impressive, the bread a crusty Italian roll, a foot long. There's sharp white cheddar, and provolone on it, along with genoa salami, ham, pepperoni, and turkey for the meats and a bevy of vegies and just a hint of oil, salt and pepper.
"I don't know anyone who's invincible, that said, I do know a few that are -very- tough." He shakes his head at the mention of the Wendigo, and the reaction of 'only a week'.
"A lot can happen in a week." A toothy smile at the wink. "Well, thank you, I try to limit my suckitude to every second leap year, this is not that one." He quips without missing a beat. He is actually possessed of a rather keen nose, and yes, he can smell the fur, and the leather, and the interest. The latter actually somewhat surprising to him. He looks to the girl. "Is that leather from a coyote?"
So yeah, acute sense of smell.
"This is the best freaking sandwhich." She comments. The water is also good and also gone quickly. Jesana laughs at his joke. It's a hearty, genuine laugh. "Uh. Ahaha." She grins. So can scent. Good to know. "I have no idea what this leather used to be. The fur is my other half. I can..change. Normally people either don't believe that or think I'm a mutant, which is not a bad thing to be!" She figures that he is though she'd need her other nose to be *that* precise. "A week isn't long for someone like me."
It really isn't. She doesn't look quite thirty and honestly couldn't say how old she is but she knows it's a lot older than she looks at least. "I'm a bounty hunter currently and P.I. or well, sortof." She can detect his surprise at her interest and wonders. Surely he knows how fine looking he is? Then again the way people are these days.. he probably doesn't. So she grins and says "Fur's where it's at, baby." And after a careful glance around, no one is looking directly at them, the woman is gone and there's something smaller wriggling around in his windbreaker. Well shit. She forgot about his coat. It isn't magicked. Now this just looks ridiculous instead of cool. A very large coyote wriggles out from beneath the coat and grins at him.
"It really is, the deli I go to is just down the road, Rasmussen's." Hank points in the right direction with one beclawed hand.
Her more educated nose would smell he's definitely not human, probably a mutant, if that has a 'smell'. Hank's senses are keen, but they're not /that/ keen. He detects mutants the old fashioned way - his mini-cerebro!
Munching on the rest of his first sub, Hank takes out the second, and tears it in two.
He seems well accustomed to seeing someone shapeshift, it doesn't phase the man in the slightest. As to his 'fine' looks, nope, he'd politely disagree. "Bounty hunter, and private-ish eye, shape shifter but not mutant, you're a woman of rare talent, Jesana." He rescues the coat, sets it over the backrest of the bench they'd been sharing. "Clearly, fur IS where it is at." And then he offers the half-sub to the 'Yote.
She grins and very carefully takes the rest of the sub and chows down. After licking her lips and her paws she turns and looks at Hank curiously for a moment, getting a better read of his scent. Then she changes back since she can't talk in this form. Though she thinks that would be pretty damn funny. "Damn, you've seen some things haven't you?" She asks as she tucks the coat back around her. No surprise at all and he doesn't scare easily. It's a nice change. Of course she doesn't usually shift on first meeting someone outside of battle but her instincts were telling her to this time and she listens to them at least.
"You've no idea." She grins at his comment about her rare talent. "I'm so remembering this sub shop." She's curious though about this man. "What do you do, Hank?" She asks, then turns as a guy behind them starts yells and starts cursing. She watches the man roll over from where he fell, eye his untied shoelaces in confusion before tying them and getting up. As he does so he suddenly freezes, then bends over and picks up something shiny from the ground. He hastily stuffs it in a pocket and hurries off. "Ah." Is all she says in response. She does look around carefully though before returning her attention to Hank.
As Jes studies him, Hank obligingly offers a hand, claws fully retracted for her to sniff is she's so minded. He is definitely not human, as has been mentioned, and there's a faintly 'spicy' scent to him. There's definitely no smell of any sort of cleaning or styling products, whatever he uses, for the man is -immaculately- groomed, it has to be unscented to a degree that would be VERY hard to manage.
He laughs softly. "Tell Sal, the owner, that Hank sent you, he'll make sure you get treated right. Been going there for years now."
He looks to the girl, and shrugs. "Me? I'm a Scientist - a biochemist, primarily, and a Teacher, a few other things." Because yeah, Hank is way way too buff to be a typical squint. Though — does indeed rock the lab coat look. The falling man and the shiny are noticed, in fact Hank's swift scan of the area for danger and the sudden tension are hard to miss. It speaks of experience - and probably of training.
A scientist. She wonders what he'd make of her then. "I tend to need to eat, a lot. Like my body weight when I'm coyote. She doesn't need to sleep as much, and is a lot stronger than average but she uses a lot of energy. So do I, I guess. So I'm always looking for good food." She frowns at his tenseness and decides to explain. "I don't think we are in danger. It's just, stuff happens around me. Weird stuff. I'm born of chaos. At least, half of me is. My mother was a mortal woman. Or so I've been told and I'm half human. Or part. My father sure as hell isn't." She scowls. Then smooths her expression.
"Hey do you box?" She asks brightly. "I love fighting. Uh, sparring too. I don't really want to fight you." For a moment she seems surprised but then smiles again. "How about that."
.~{:--------------:}~.
"I eat a lot myself, but I come by it honestly being a fairly sizable fellow and very active." Probably an understatement considering his musculature - even a mutant needs to workout to get that buff. "At least a coyote is omnivorous. Your biological needs seem a little high, but I am no expert in what seems to be akin to magic, if not /actually/ magical." And how many scientists are able to say that without a seriously dubious sound? He genuinely seems to believe in magic.
A nod about Chaos, he doesn't judge, but he's clearly not sure how to respond to that.
Fortunately she shifts gears and topics, and he nods. "Boxing, wrestling, parkour, some martial arts." A low rumble turns into a rich chuckle. "And I have no desire to fight you either." He smiles. "Which is a fine thing, quite a relief to know that a battle isn't in the offing. After all, we have food to digest." He says with a very pious nod.
Jesana smiles. He's nothing like she'd expect of a scientist. That's cool. Magic. How about that. He's also funny. "I love fighting. Almost as much as I love f-uh other things." She quickly changes track again, because he is a Gentleman. "Hunting. I like hunting, and making things or fixing them. Shooting. Games of chance and drinking." She grins. "I'm not all that great with tech but older stuff, sure. I can make leather, and my own weapons. Well, my bows and arrows anyway. Knives too and bullets. I prefer my bows but guns are easier to hide."
Of course, considering her professions she probably is good at a lot of things like that. "Mostly though I just use these." She holds up her fists. "I deal with a lot of humans. Actually mostly them because.." She leans back and looks at Hank seriously. "I don't trust where a mutant criminal would end up. I mean say someone does a little thieving because they have to, to get by but don't actually hurt anyone. Put them in prison and its probably a death sentence. So I don't really go after them unless they're running around murdering people left and right and then I just kind of.. take care of it myself." Because she doesn't trust what would happen to them. "Ending up in a goverment lab isn't fun. No one deserves that." Her tones suggests experience with this matter.
Hank's a rather curious (not so) little package…he's clearly quite intelligent, his elocution alone would indicate education and a lot of it. He's frightfully muscular under that rich blue-black pelt, and possessed of formidable natural weaponry by way of fang and claw, heckfire, his FISTS are intimidating! And yet he's kind, and polite, genteel even and very amicable. And he believes in magic and is accepting of people who are 'other', no doubt in part because of being a mutant (and mutate too, but that's not readily obvious).
"Ah, well, I'm reasonably adept at tech, hacking, engineering and such, my 'wheelhouse' as it were is primarily the life sciences and biochemistry." A firm nod. "Yes, I tend not to wield weapons when I fight, not unless they're essential. I /am/ a weapon, in a very real sense." A sigh at her assessment about the chances of a mutant ending up in a lab somewhere. "We're targets, yes, and not even primarily government targets. Mutants are feared even now, though things are better."
Jesa might find it odd how erudite the guy is, how calm and self-assured and yet he flushes at her interest, it /surprises/ him that anyone WOULD be interested in him. That's an odd dichotomy.
Jesana actually thinks his intelligence matched with his form is damn near perfect. It's unexpected. Most people she is sure would look at him and not believe he's smarter than probably most of the people on the planet. She loves the unexpected. Hank definitely has some interesting contrasts though. She realizes her particular tastes are different than most women's but I mean damn. He's absolutely gorgeous. She'd fight a bitch that said otherwise! "I know. I do something about that when I can. It ain't right. I end up helping the Indians a lot, since I'm technically one of their..um. Well my father is one of their gods. And I'm a sucker for a damsel in distress, but mutants too. Most of my investigating work is finding missing people or helping people that the law let down and most of those aren't humans."
She watches Hank as she talks to him, clearly engaged and in a good mood to just be sitting talking with a stranger. Though it'd be more apt to say this stranger in particular. He's nothing like her in most ways. She's clever but not supersmart. She couldn't tell you how many people she's killed or hearts she's broken or even if she ever had a family. She barely knows what biochemistry even is. It also took three weeks of classes to learn enough to use her computer and it keeps busting because fuck her life when things like that are involved. She's barely started working and been through three of the damn things. Realising she's been silent for several moments the native american smiles. "Sorry. I was just thinking. We're kinda different but for some reason I feel at ease with you. It's been a long time since someone heard a bit about me and didn't end up running off screaming or scoffing in disbelief."
Hank is so blind sometimes, but shockingly perspicacious at others. Glaring holes in his world view though. Eyes of bright yellow are also very intent, unlike a lot of people he actually focuses when he talks with someone. Focuses on them, heck, he takes out his wireless earbuds and puts them away to concentrate on their conversation.
"No, it is -not- right." He half growls, hackles ruffling a moment with his ire, which he then — controls, fur unruffling.
He smiles. "I try to protect and help anyone who needs it. I'm a bit of an idealist, I suppose." A shrug of massive shoulders and then he chuckles. "I am also a sucker for a damsel in distress, or…anyone, really." A hand raised to rub the back of his neck in mild embarrassment.
Her comment about thinking, he makes a movie reference from, appropriately, Beauty and the Beast. "A dangerous pastime…" Might be lost on her. "…that said, I have seen a fair amount of exotic events, have -been part of- such. You're not scream worthy, I'm afraid, but you are interesting and engaging."
"You say that now…" She quips with a grin. Her eyes are serious though. "Old Man Coyote." She sighs. Looks away from Hank with a tense expression for a long moment, then relaxes and looks back. "Several tribes have tales of him. Hard to say which if any are true. One says he's what the universe came from. He's a Chaos god. Not good or evil. Both, or I guess neither? He can be a hero or villian. I'm kinda the same. Although I like to think I'm not evil. I've never purposely hurt someone that didn't deserve it. Can't say the same about him but then he's not mortal. He doesn't think the same. Or see things the same. I don't get on with him. Actually I've killed him, several times. He always comes back with the dawn."
"I would like to get to know you better, Hank. I feel like I need to tell you I come with a warning label and a whole lotta crazy though, because I think I like you." And she thinks, actually is pretty damn sure she'd feel bad if she caused him any kind of harm. She is a bit of chaos personified after all and there aren't a lot of people who would willing invite that into their life. "I will say I'd totally understand if you tell me to take a hike now. Last good friend I had was back in '79..knew her for ten years until.." Well. "I try not to think about that."
"Trickster god, beloved of many native American tribes. Feared too due to his capricious nature." Hank nods. "I've read a lot of stories about him, truly fascinating…and I don't think /he/ is evil, just…what he is. He is change. He loves his people, however, or so the writings seem to show. But a Trickster God cannot help but be true to its nature, as exemplified in the story of the Frog and the Scorpion, not Coyote related, but it illustrates my point. Do you know it?" He asks with a curious uplift of one eyebrow.
Hank smiles. "I know a lot of people, Jesana Coyotedottir." A grin is rather toothily offered at mixing in a very unusual name to hers. "And many many of them come with warning labels, a couple with 'Police Line - do not cross', some with 'biohazard'." Another rumbling chuckle. "I think it likely I'll meet some more, and am not prone to losing a friend for fear of 'what may be'."
"I do, yes. It's a favorite actually." She smiles and seems to relax. As Hank continues her eyes widen a bit. She isn't often surprised but it does happen. For instance, later tonight she's definitely gonna be surprised and also find out that a week can indeed be very long for her. That will be later's problem though. Right now, Jesana grins, her entire face lighting up and she sort of just springs forward too fast to follow and hugs him. Then she's back in her spot just as quick. She doesn't wanna overstep but by the Creator she has been *lonely* and starting to regret the move to this city and Hank has just done wonders to change all that with a few simple words.
"Huh. That's interesting. I'm..an action kinda person. Never thought or at least, I don't think I thought words were all that important. You seem to be teaching me otherwise already. I think we can learn a lot from each other." She aslo definitely thinks they can have some together and certainly get into some trouble. Trouble is her middle name. Or it would be, if she had one. Maybe. "I dunno what brought you to this park today, but I'm sure glad you were here."
Hank is a bit surprised at the sudden hug, but he's quite a solid fellow, if a bit bulky to hug! He's not overly tall at five-eleven, but he IS very broad of shoulder, and his build is more along lines of a barrel than anything else, and his musculature is rather imposing. Especially true of thick forearms and lower legs, and massive chest muscles.
"I sort of caught that, Jesana." Hank says with a wry smile as speaks of being a girl of action. "I suspect that hesitation happens for you about what, every few years?" A wink. "IF that often." He laughs at the last bit and then produces a passport and his driver's license. "Paperwork. I…haven't always been so hirsute." A pause. "Well, I was born smoothskin, got fuzzed, then managed to unfuzz with SCIENCE!.." And yes, he says it wit that degree of emphasis, even religious fervor almost. "…and then…got fuzzed again in an altercation that qualifies as one of those exotic events I mentioned." A warm smile. "Anyway…mostly…I needed a break after that much red tape."
Well. No wonder he doesn't find her terrifying. He's been through and seen some things. This though explains some of the scents and emotions she picked up from him. "I see. Well if you need more IDs or anything in the future and don't wanna deal with that hassle..I can get them for you." Because of course she can. The thought of b eing stuck in a goverment office for hours is shudder inducing. Though likely it would be just as much so for the office and for an entirely different reason than boredom. "I told you, fur is where it's at." She grins and reaches out and takes his hand. "You don't need to worry you know. Her eyes are warm and her expression faintly amused. She knows he's aware of her interest in him in another way. For once in her life she's not going to immediately attempt to pursue that interest. She wants a friend. A good friend. Not that good friends can't..'Down girl, damn!" Jesana thinks to herself.
"What was I saying..right, You are one fine looking fellow, Hank McCoy." Oh hell, that is not exactly what she was going to say. Coyote wants to play. "Sorry. Sometimes my mouth operates seperately from my brain. Or maybe more in conjunction with my animal brain." She muses thoughtfully.
A soft laugh. "Oh sure, offer to help /after/ I spent the day in various offices of the state." Hank says with a grin. "Truly, it is fine. I'd rather do it legally, I mean, I /could/ have just hacked the files, but that's not polite." Points for not worrying about her having other means to get them though, maybe.
"Apparently so." Hank says with a hint of pain, but then a broad smile. "Regardless, this is who I am. Not going to change any time soon, if ever."
He can't help but laugh and blush at the continued flirting. "Really, Jesana, I am flattered." And surprised. Still. The dope. "Don't worry, you're the daughter of a Trickster, I imagine iron-discipline and stern propriety are not really your thing." He allows the gripping of his hand, sausage thing fingers closing with care to squeeze gently. "So…friends then? I should warn, I /do/ have a girlfriend, so…" Yeah, probably not going to be 'with benefits' depending on the girl, and their relationship.
Jesana grins. "I've had girlfriends too. I promise not to try to steal you away though. I was serious. I like you. That means be..be-uh. Wow. Behaving." She looks around, waits a few moments. "Heh. That was kinda anticlimatic. I was sure something was gonna happen." Clearly not a word in her regular vocabularly. "Never say never though, my friend." She squeezes his hand encouragingly. She's living proof of that and she wants him to have hope, if that is what he wants. Hm…maybe she could dye her fur blue in support? How to get it to stay that way though…it would doubtless come off when she shifts, or leave her with blue skin for a bit. It will be interesting to see.
"Hey I.." Jesana pats her hips and then frowns. No pockets. "Aw dammit. I usually have cards.. now that I think of it I had a phone and a wallet and.. I remember. There was a fire in a building, I ran in and was getting some kids out and then I dunno, crying about a dog so I went back but there was an explosion I think. Gas maybe?" She smiles. "That's great. I don't always manage to figure out why I was gone. Injuries can be tramatic I guess. Or maybe its the transistion? Oh, I was gonna give you a card.. sonofabitch! Losing the phone means I need to get a landline because that is gonna happen a lot." Apparently she can be quite chatty too. "The point, the point was my adress then I guess. In the Bronx, 1244 Colgate Ave. I live there and have my office." Dusk is coming soon, she should get back, get some food and check her messages and he's probably got things to do too. "Again, it was great to meet you."
Hank puts away his papers and as he puts the license in his wallet, he takes out a card of his own. "Here." A smile. Thankfully has no idea she's considering a makeover in blue, that would probably be awkward. He rises then, and nods to the jacket. "You can return it later." It is very clear that the cold is /not/ equal to the task of chilling this fellow, not even close.
He will be the one to initiate a hug this time, and then watches as she departs.
Softly, half expecting — more than half — that she'll hear. "Be well, Coyote's Daughter."
And then he does indeed have to get on his way. Ear buds replaced, he heads towards Bessy, his 78 Grenada, and thence home.
.~{:--------------:}~.