|Marvel: In the Beginning...|
Westchester County - New YorkEdit
Westchester County, it is a suburban county. There are a number of municipalities along the way. With New York City and Long Island Sound to the south, and Putnam County further north past North Salem, and Connecticut to the east with Hudson River on the west, it is an ideal location for the mostly upper-middle class. There is also the flavor of old money from some of the country's wealthiest families for generations have resided in this county. A number of major interstate highways run through the county, and it is still a lovely place to drive through with pieces of country that seems alien if one just left New York City.
- North Salem - New York <N>
- The Bronx - New York City <S>
The man is to put it simply all muscle and hair, short at 5'3" he still manages to be large at somewhere between 195-200lbs, without so much as an ounce of fat on him, he's very exceptionally broad shouldered, with no neck to speak of he's got densely packed muscle on his chest, his arms are thicker than most mens' legs, yet somehow he still manages to remain agile. His skin's slightly tanned, thick hair apparent on his arms and hands, his eyes are a light blue, and have a hardness to them, his features are likewise hard, and framed by long black handle bar sideburns. His hair's somewhat combed back, but mostly unruly, the sides sticking up which the centre seems to remain down.
Currently the man is dressed in practical work clothes a light weight A-shirt showing just the top of his chest, with some hair sitcking through is worn under a black leather jacket, while he wears simple blue jeans with a fairly generic belt and black boots.
Cute little girl. That is the first impression she gives. Her age might be anywhere from about sixteen to about twenty-five, but tends in appearance towards the younger end of the range. She is barely five feet tall, and petite, with red-brown hair cut into a neat bob that falls only to her chin, framing a delicate, triangular face in which blue eyes are set beneath arching brows. Her complexion is very clear.
She is wearing gray dress slacks and a matching jacket over a blouse in a soft lavender hue. Small studs glint in her ears, and a delicate silver wristwatch encircles one wrist. Dress shoes have slight heels that lift her height from 'tiny' to just 'small', and are black in color. A matching purse is slung over one shoulder.
Tall for a woman, this young lady stands just shy of six feet when in flats, and has a mature enough look and curves most would take her for her late teens, just under twenty years of age. She has a long, full mane of lustrous raven black hair which tumbles smoothly down to frame her face, over her shoulders and down to mid-back. Her face is a natural oval with high cheekbones, full lips, a narrow pert nose and raven dark sculpted eyebrows over deep crystal blue eyes framed by long dark eyelashes. Her neck is gracefully slim, shoulders broad but natural for her height, lending balance to her toned and trim unfairly hourglass figure. When she speaks, it is a warm, cultured soprano tone with clean diction. To be honest, this young woman is gorgeous, the sort of looks one would associate with (non-anorexic) supermodels and actresses. Say, isn't she familiar?
Currently this young woman is dressed casually in a tightly fitted scarlet red t-shirt with a low but still modest scoop neckline, long enough it could almost tuck in but isn't, perhaps flashing only a hint of skin on her tummy as she moves. She wears a pair of hip-hugger designer blue denim jeans with beadwork along the outer seams, on both back pockets, echoed in the loose, decoration-only beaded leather belt slung through the loops. She's wearing a pair of modestly heeled open-toe mules in scarlet red on her feet. A small black leather backpack rides one shoulder, with an obvious iPhone in a pouch mounted on the strap.
Upstate New York is not exactly the wild, untamed wilderness, but it is most certainly not The City, either. And there are lots of trees compared to the jungle of concrete, steel and glass that is New York City. Which makes it a refreshing change of pace for those used to that oppressive high-rise atmosphere. And with the advent of summer comes the weekend treks into the area for a variety of reasons: camping; hiking; fishing; canoeing; and antiquing. Yes, seriously. Antiquing.
At the moment, Andrea Tellierra is riding along in a largish SUV in the back seat, along with her lovely guest, lady lawyer Jennifer Walters. Up front? The driver, of course, would be Edward. He drew the 'short straw' amongst the security detail at the mansion today. And in the passenger seat is Jerry Matthers, Andrea's adopted father, legal guardian, lawyer and 'business manager'. Jerry has managed to get a few words in edgewise to the chatter going on in the back seat. But not many. Ed? He's not even trying. He is busy directing the SUV up the road, approaching another roadside 'tavern', advertising all manner of the usual roadside fare, and a liquor license. It looks to be larger than the average, and may actually be near to a town that is not quite on this particular road, as it boasts a pool hall as well.
Andrea is currently exclaiming gleefully over their latest bargain found. The piece is actually a beautiful ivory shark, positioned around a rock-like 'outcropping' of aged wood. Andrea believes this will be a wonderful piece for Jennifer's office, and is trying to convince Jen of this despite any misgivings the lady lawyer might have. "Surely you get the joke, don't you?" Andrea offers, smiling that dazzling smile of hers.
"Of course I get the joke. I told you, I still have my soul. I just leave it outside the courtroom." The diminutive lawyer is, though, smiling a little as she examines the shark. She might well be a good way convinced. And relaxed. She's pretty sure that this particular trip is a lot less likely to end up with anything turning green. Well, no. It's really NOT true that its happening every time she leaves her office to go anywhere other than the courtroom. It just seems that way.
Logan's spent some time on the road now, he's not had a good time of it either. He's stopped for the time being, at the tavern that the ladies happen to be passing for two simple reasons, they have a pool hall and more importantly they have a liquor license, both of these things appeal to Logan, so he brings his bike to a stop outside, he looks for the signs that it's not going to be in any form of risk, the bike being a Kawasaki ZX-14 Ninja, a true work of art, and quite possibly the one thing in his life at present he loves. Confident that said bike's going to be ok he heads into the bar, his eyes instantly scanning the room for exits, possible entry points and potential trouble, in fact his every sense seems to be searching for trouble, for anything not quite right, paranoia doesn't count when you /know/ they're out to get you after all.
The SUV that starts pulling into the parking lot not too much behind the lone, slightly scruffy biker is really more notable for the customized license plate - ANDREA7 - than anything else. The paint is forest green. The detailing is nothing special. Even the tinted windows are pretty common and not worth much of a second thought. But the hyperaware might actually pick up that the sound of the shocks is off: that thing is a lot heavier than it should be, and using very tightly adjusted, augmented shocks because of it. And those are run-flat tires.
"Pardon me, ladies. I just need to pull in here and fill up the tank. I don't want to end up at the end of this run without the gas to get us home." Edward comments. Jerry offers a smile at that, and pulls out his wallet to assist Edward. "The best lawyers always find a way to smuggle their souls into the courtroom. Or so I've always believed." he comments to Jennifer.
Andrea glances around briefly and then back to Jen, smiling at her friend. "Well, we could always hop out and get another slice of 'local color'. I am getting a little hungry, after all." Hello, teenager's appetite. She won't eat much, but she'll graze constantly given the chance.
"I don't know whether I'm the best yet," Jen comments to Jerry. To Andrea, "Why not?" The lawyer hops out of the right hand side of the SUV. They're too far behind to notice the biker, but Jen's eyes do rest on the bike for a moment. Yeah, she can recognize a good set of wheels when she sees them, even if she'd rather have a sports car herself. Nothing unusual about her...not much over five feet tall, and some of that her shoes. The exact opposite of intimidating. "Hrm. I think we need to watch out for the *other* kind of sharks," she adds, continuing the joke as she notices the 'Pool Hall' sign.
Logan turns, still only half way in the room, he hears the socks, and he knows the most likely reasons for such alterations to a car, he watches as the trio leave, he makes a note of them, but doesn't think they're much to worry about, his attention turning back to the bar he finally enters properly, two things will become obvious about Logan, he's almost certainly the shortest man in the room at five foot three inches, though likely not the smallest, and more importantly is the way he carries himself, he's obviously not looking for trouble, but at the same time he seems to make his presence known he almost manages to shout that he only wants a quiet drink, he gets himself a beer, and quickly turns his attention to finding a game of pool, his hand reaching into his jacket and removing a cigar no thought given to the act.
"Could we please wait to go inside until after I have pumped the gas?" Edward requests, politely. He's the employee, here, and not in charge. But it is the sort of request one would expect of a driver who is also something more. That too would fit with the theory of an armored vehicle, for those whom have reached that conclusion.
Jerry glances at the ladies and smiles, shaking his head. That's his daughter, alright. Ever ready to make new friends, or at least try. Seemingly afraid of nothing, though he knows that isn't really true. "Andrea is rather good at pool." he comments to Jen with a hint of real fatherly pride. "I taught her, but now she beats me more often than I do her."
Andrea protests, however. "That's because you let me win." But she's smiling, despite Edward's request. "We can wait." But part of that is because for Andrea, she can already see inside the bar. That shorter man is rather interesting. She really would never expect a man that short to be that broad. Or heavy. The youngest of the small group from the SUV, Andrea is also second to tallest, towering over Jen by nearly a foot, Jerry by a few inches, and only shorter than Edward by an inch or so. She also has a face that those familiar at all with modern popular culture would pick out in a heartbeat.
Jennifer Walters follows Andrea's gaze, but she isn't in a good position to see what she's seeing. She shifts a little. "I'm afraid I've never really played," the older of the two women admits. She's...oh...late twenties, quite a lot older than the teenager. But she's waiting for Jerry as well...no, she doesn't need a bodyguard, but she doesn't really want anyone KNOWING she doesn't.
Logan makes his way over to the pool tables, his attention on the players, he lights the cigar in his mouth, apparently not concerned, or aware of the smoking ban, it doesn't take much to judge that it's more likely the former. He tests the cues and picks one, finding himself a quiet spot to watch the games in progress before nodding to those playing. "Anyone wanna play the new guy?" it matches his manner so far, it's said in a level tone, almost companionable, but there's just the faintest hint of a challenge in there.
Once Edward is finished with the gas and paying at the pump, he drives the SUV over to a parking spot and then gets out, and locks up, returning the card to Jerry at that time. "Thank you for waiting, ladies. Shall we?" he offers, moving to the door to hold it open.
Jerry falls back to wait, following behind the ladies. It's a lifetime's habit, of course. "We'll have to see if we can get a table, then."
Andrea doesn't much turn her head away from Jennifer. She doesn't have to, and a lifetime's habit says to pay attention to the person she's with, rather than looking away and upsetting them. "Food first?" she pipes in, with a smile, and then heads through the door with Jen. "Thank you, Edward." she offers, as they all step inside and let the door close. The others' eyes have to adjust to the interior. Andrea only pauses because - or if - Jen does, before glancing around and considering a table.
Jennifer Walters does pause for a moment. In this form, after all, she's all but indistinguishable from any other human...unless you have certain senses or sophisticated scanning devices. "Food first," she agrees. "Maybe then I'll make you teach me pool." She glances towards the archway for a moment. Likely...she's a little over-dressed for this place.
Logan's lets he group measure him up and place him where they think he fits in the social standing, it's strange in how many ways pack mentality can break into human behaviour, it's not so strange that Logan finds himself high on the list, his cigar removes from his mouth briefly as he exhales and takes a long gulp of his drink.
He watches the group eating their dinner, it's subtle, but if their security's good he might just catch it. Of course Logan can't be blamed, he might not know who Weapon X are, or why they're following him, but he's more than aware that they are.
The security for this little group is comprised of ... Edward. That's it. But he takes his job seriously, placing himself between the rest of the room and the table the ladies pick out and keeping his attention focused more on everyone else than on his charges.
Jerry follows and takes a seat, making sure to let Jen and Andrea sit together. He is rather amused at his adopted daughter's befriending of the young attorney, but he approved. Jennifer has proven to be a bright, personable young woman. (Far better than that rather brash and often shameless She-Hulk person!)
Andrea settles down beside Jennifer and smiles, taking up the little plastic-covered menu as she visibly persuses it. All the while, she is rather carefully observing what is going on throughout the bar and the pool hall, without appearing to do so at all.
Which is how she ends up spotting the pair that invite Logan to join their table and play the winner. She can see they're sizing him up as to whether they can shark him. She doesn't yet know his level of skill, so this will be interesting. Might also be interesting if they try something afterwards.
Jennifer Walters is, for her part, relaxing. She's out with professional security, so she's letting them do their job. To Logan, when he glances over at the group, she likely seems to be just some random businesswoman. Not hard eyed enough to be 'family' of any kind, but not soft enough to be completely naive. "I wonder what's good here," she muses, peering over the menu.
With a faint grin Logan nods, he's a good judge of character he's joined the table happily enough; his cigar rolling from one side of a casual smile to the other, he gets to his game and he quite happily lets them go through the motions of sharking him, winning the small wagers, by just enough to seem a fair player... but definately not great. He's waiting for the turning point the point where they want one last chance to put the last of their money on a game, they'll struggle together to gather their money convinced the man their playing's fair, but not great. He's happy to let them if that's what they choose of course.
Edward remains aware, and mostly quiet. No need for conversation induces a sort of guarded silence from him.
Jerry glances at the menu, and then around at the decor. "I imagine the subs and such would be their specialty. Standard fry cook fare."
Andrea makes a face at this. Fried? Hello, model here. That's not going to happen. "I'll probably go for the tuna salad on whole wheat. Maybe a fruit cup if they have one." Even if it isn't great, she's assuming they won't serve something poisonous. Learning experiences, see?
The duo at the table do indeed scrape together enough for 'one more game' with Logan, to 'get their money back.' And finally, the gloves come off. This time, the one of them at the table plays to win, and plays very, very well. Not unbeatable. But easily several degrees better than either has played up to this point.
"And I think I'll get the Italian deli sub...ham, turkey, cheese." She's NOT a model...although she's in remarkably good condition for a trial lawyer. Maybe she cares about her appearance. "I think that short man is being sharked," she adds. Yes, she's noticed him. There's something about the way he moves that, oddly, reminds her of, well. Steve.
Logan has good steady hands and good spatial awareness, add to that the fact that he's been playing in pool halls against sharks probably fo longer than the duos combined lives, and so he just manages to edge ahead, knocking his own game up several degrees the wide grin disappears replaced with a much more natural and stoic expression, he still speaks around that cigar of his. "Seems we've both caught our second wind huh bub?"
Edward glances in the direction of the pool hall briefly, but he hasn't really been watching, and doesn't immediately consider anything happening there to be a threat, so he merely turns back to what he has been watching. Given a chance, he orders a cheesesteak sub with grilled onions and peppers, and a side of fries. Then again, he supposedly works out enough to get rid of all that poison.
Jerry grimaces, and goes for the grilled sausage and peppers sub, and pepper slaw. And his own searching glance towards Logan is followed by one towards Jennifer, as if wondering how the lady lawyer would have spotted something like that.
Andrea, on the other hand, doesn't glance at all. She orders her lunch, as planned, and then simply looks up at Jennifer. "I think you may be right. But he does seem to have it handled." How'd she do that? And did Jerry just nudge her under the table?
The duo look at Logan, and the player grimaces a bit, then nods. "Seems so." He plays hard, doing his darnedest. They weren't kidding about having put up pretty much all of their cash on this game. They need to win. Of course, that also ratchets up the tension a good bit. If they lose, they are not going to be happy at all.
Logan's acutely aware of the tension, but the kids wanted to play the game, they have to be ready to lose. It doesn't hurt that Logans' confident that if they don't accept the loss he'll be able to take them... and their friends. Or that he needs the money himself. He plays hard himself, and it's close, but not close enough to give the other guy much of a chance, he finally finishes the game throwing back the last of his beer, he begins to collect his winnings from the table. "Thanks for the games, let my buy you a beer." It's his last effort to end things peacefully after this he'll quite cheerfully start throwing fists.
Blame She-Hulk. She likes places like this, even if Jen doesn't. She glances over again. "Well, it's obvious who won." If this turns into a fight, then...well. She might *try* to let the professional security take care of it, rather than stepping in herself. It would be nice to end the day as herself for once.
Andrea makes a point of turning her head at Jennifer's comment and looking towards Logan's table before turning back to say, "It does seem rather obvious." She might well have said that without looking. Blame Jerry for reminding her.
The offer of the beer almost manages to mollify the losers. There is actually a serious pause, as one of them starts heading towards the bar. But the one with the cue still in his hand is clearly rather more than a little sore at having lost, and lost all that money. He decides to take this as an insult, so he twists his hips and throws a punch towards Logan as the hulking man-midget passes.
This is not going to end well.
Jennifer Walters makes a soft acking sound. "We might want to make an exit." She's not going to interfere in a bar fight unless and until it starts involving, you know, people who don't *want* to be involved. She-Hulk might join in. Jen...has more sense on that front.
There's a grin from Logan as the fist comes at him, hit or miss the guy's going to hurt for it, but Logan's in a good mood so he blocks the blow probably saving the man from a broken hand if he'd connected with Logans metal skull, however Logan's quick to counter with a punch of his own, he'd known this was coming from the moment they started sharking him, and while he's not going to admit it he'd kind of been looking forward to it, this is where he really shines. "You shoulda let me buy you a beer."
Andrea is looking right at Jen, not at the pool hall. But she flinches as Logan blocks the punch and counter-punches with such devastating effectiveness. (Metal bones will do that; greater strength just makes it that much worse.) "I ... I suppose." she starts.
Edward waits rather calmly, turning his head to watch it all unfold. But his real concentration is on the rest of the bar patrons. If the fight does not spread, they can stay. But the moment it does, they are out of here. The tension in his body is clear.
Jerry? He just blanches. 'Oh, Hell' is pretty clearly on his face. Such a peaceful dinner, gone to heck.
The punch from Logan sends the attacker's head rocking back heavily, a wobble to his knees. But he turns and swings again, this time for the kidney. His partner spins around, and swings for the gut. So far, the rest of the bar hasn't had time to join in. It's anyone's guess.
Jennifer Walters sighs a little bit. She glances at Edward. Oh, it's so tempting, but she locks it down, forces Shulkie to stay *in* for now. Not to go join in. Not going to go join in. Fortunately, she is able, for now, to maintain her control. It's not even about hiding a secret identity. It's about the fact that she's got mundanes with her who *aren't* threatened right now and might be if she joined the fight.
For anyone with any sort of experience it's easy to tell that Logans' a true master, he moves with surprising agility for his bulk, and it's obvious that not only is he extremely well versed in what he's doing, he's extremely efficient at it, the first punch doesn't do the job so he's moving away from the potential attacker, managing to dodge the punch to the kidney although the blow to the gut lands, getting little more than a grunt from Logan his knee already coming up to strike at his opponents gut.
The blow from Logan to the second man's gut is enough to knock out his wind, sending him to his knees as he chokes and gasps, grunting. But that just makes the first man mad enough to roll in with a hammerblow to Logan's back.
And with all of this going on, other patrons in the bar and the pool hall are starting to rush in, whether to restrain the pair or to haul off and help on Logan is unclear at this point.
But when that happens, Edward is immediately to his feet. "I'm sorry, folks. But that's it. Head for the exit, /now./" Gone is the politeness. In its place is cold, deliberate professionalism and a voice that demands obedience without actually yelling. It's a talent.
At that order, Jerry is up, stumbling, and trying to grab Andrea to push her ahead of him.
Of course, Andrea is actually a bit reticent to get up, and is a lot more leg than Jerry, so she gets tangled up in her chair and goes down roughly. This is getting to be a pain.
So tempting. Andrea is at the right angle to *possibly* see a green glint in Jen's eyes...before she pushes her seat back and starts to head for the door. She doesn't seem TOO worried about whether the bodyguard is between her and the fight or not, though.
With the fight beginning to esculate Logan's pulling out the stops, he rolls with the hammerfist, getting up and bringing his elbow around to hit the other guy in the temple while he's still regaining his balance from the strike, his foot comes out intent on kicking the other man in the face. As he regains his balance, it's with his feet set just a little wider apart, and it's obvious even to the untrained that he's gone from simple brawling to martial arts, his stance implies kung fu movies rather than the bar fight scene.
Of course, angle has nothing in the world to do with Andrea's sight, so the chances of her missing that green glint are minimal. The chances of her knowing what to make of it are nearly as minimal, however. And she /is/ busy getting hoisted up by Jerry and Edward and shoved towards the exit. She tries to protest, something about 'But that poor man, he's in there on his own, all those people ...' but neither Ed nor Jerry are having any of that today. Time to GO little lady!
Seeing Logan take out both of the brothers in such short order is a clear indicator to everyone in the bar that this is not someone to mess with. That he turns on all of them with the look of a real fighter and no apparent concern at all for their numbers is just icing on the cake. They instead rush the brothers, scooping them up and holding them back.
Then comes the 'ka-chunk' of a shotgun, as the bartender steps out from the back, the weapon in hand. "That's /enough/! Jack, Kevin, get out! You know better than to start a fight like that in my place. Move it!" He keeps the shotgun up, waiting to see if his orders are obeyed, and if anyone wants to be dumb enough to start something.
Jennifer Walters doesn't need to be carried. She's heading for the door with aplomb...although less nervousness than one might thing. Its probably fake, though. Inside...well. That kachunk did not help, she flinches a bit at it. Get out. Get out before she loses control here.
Those that catch Logans' eyes will see there's more to it than simple lack of fear, there's just the slightest hint of anticipation, Logan was made for this and then there's the sound of a shotgun and once again Logan shifts, this time getting ready to dive for cover if necessary, when it's obvious that he's not going to be shot at Logan smiles faintly, his cigar still in place he nods to the barman. "Thanks, I think it's time I was moving on." He leaves a larger than average tip as he heads for the door and wherever it is he plans to head for the evening, he even goes so far as to offer a polite nod to the other group as they leave. "Sorry for the trouble."