2011 09 09 Donation And Dash

Log Title: Donation and Dash
Characters: Revelin, Mike
IC Date: 9 Sept 2011
Location: The Paramont - hotel - Theater District
Brief log summary: Revelin finds a Mick Drago at a FDNY related charity function and gets to play mini-hero much to the shock of the other attendees.
Rating: PG
There is no TS in the log: Yes


With September being a slower month for New York tourism, hotels find other ways to make use of what room they have. In the case of the Paramont for today, their building has become the center point of yet another one of New York's many charity events. Despite the fashionable interior, the people moving about the lobby level and conference area sport a vast array of clothing styles. From prim and proper suits all the way down to shorts and a T-shirt, all walks of life are represented in this gathering.

But there is some uniformity, that being in a group of persons proudly wearing shirts declaring them to be members of the local ladder. FDNY's finest mingle along with an all-star cast list accompanying them, working to make sure every gawker and potential donor that has wandered in gets greeted and filled in on their cause.

Today's cause is near and dear to the firefighter's hearts, a fund meant for the care and well-being of the families of firefighters who have paid some of the biggest prices one can pay in the line of duty. Similar to an event the police department had for a similar cause, they are working to raise money.

Somewhere in the planning stages, a Mick Drago appeared on the list of celebrities. Maybe the planner had kids, or maybe they've been talking to other event planners and his name came up. Who knows how, but he is here now. His attire a bit far from the normal, he has donned simple dress pants, a red tee shirt, and a jacket, unbuttoned but providing sufficient contrast to be considered dressy. It may not be a tux, but combined with his long hair pulled back into a neat stub of a pony tail, it borders on some semblance of class. Holding a plastic cup containing some of the punch being served at a nearby table, he ignores it for the most part as he smiles, giving an occasional quiet nod to one of the over dressed mar- err, potential donors in attendance.

You have left channel Public.

Tom Revelin appears in the crowd, suited up - or disguised up, as is usually the case with him - in a long suede jacket, dress-pants, his hair combed and goatee trimmed. So long as no one looks at his feet, he should be fine. He wanders in from the Men's Room and makes his way toward one of the tables where 'Mick Drago' is standing with a cup of punch. He chuckles a little at the turn-out, the suits and topics of conversation he can hear.

"Well, mate, they really do go all out for something like this," he grins. He reaches for some punch and a cup and pours himself some.

The person he is 'gabbing it up with' finishes with her monologue, giggles and gives a quick fangirlish hug to the unsuspecting, but really should have known it was coming, musician. Cup lifting up, he barely avoids the woman's incoming arm which may have resulted in a non-alcoholic party foul. Instead the red concoction sways with the sudden movement, giving just a weak threat to its potential. Mike's eyes shift over to Revelin, brow lifting in question but without saying anything as he gives a solitary pat on the woman's back. Hug taken and with likely exaggerated stories to tell, she scoots off, leaving Mike to tend to the other attendee nearby. "If stacking the guest list to pull in fresh blood will get the numbers needed to help a good cause, then so be it." The cup lifts in a mock toast. "To a good cause."

"To a good cause," echoes Tom, raising his own cup with equally dry humour. "Who's the sheila?-erm, dame?" He asks after a moment - and points toward the departing girl who nearly spilled Mike's drink. Are they all like that here? Or just the ones at charities? Oh, excuse me—" He cuts off as a middle-aged man and a woman nearly push past to reach the table and the punch-bowl. Tom flashes them both a humorless smirk and steps aside. "Creme de la creme, here…so what have they got you doing?"

At the question Mike glances in the general direction of the woman who has gone on to accos- uh talk to yet another special guest of the charity. "Cass-" A head tilts in attempted recollection "-ie I think. Seems to be a bit, friendly?" Glancing to the table and their general proximity, Mike starts to step a bit away from it, encouraging the conversation location to be a bit further from traffic, "They're trying for a bit of a quasi-open, meet and greet event." Mike replies, "So we got a variety of types in here." His head tilts over to some other sort of familiar looking musician types, then towards a local news anchor. "We're pretty much here for incentive to come in. And to promote the charity." He gives a smile, "So, have you shown your love for the FDNY recently?"

Tom follows Mike toward the table and pulls out a chair. As he sits down he says, "My father was a firefighter back in Sydney. My mother still works as a nurse in Calvary Hospital there - yeah, I've shown my love for the FDNY - when I got here. Have you?" He grins, perhaps because he's throwing the question back at Mike, or perhaps because his comment about his parents is totally bogus - but he grins nonetheless. "How many of these events do you usually do? What happens at them?

"Your father was a firefighter?" Mike asks, his tone a bit curious, "Hmm." He lifts up his cup to take a sip before glancing back to Revelin, "Lets see, in the past few months I'd say, three?" He pauses, glancing up as his free hand starts counting quietly as his lips murmur quietly. He shakes his head, "No, four. Number kind of varies. I was doing a lot more when the album was fresh out and I was touring more." He glances around the room, lazily looking over the room occupants.

"Among other things," Tom replies off-handedly. "Do they get you to perform at this stuff? Or just… be here? Charities etc back home have a lot of live music. Heh, I reckon no one shows up unless there's someone important singing. … the punch is okay. I'd go chat up that Cass…..ie, you were talking to - but I want to keep my drink!" He chuckles and starts making eyes at a red-headed girl across the room, who is standing with an older couple.

Mike chuckles a bit at the joke, not spotting the red head as he is not glancing in the direction that Rev is, "They didn't ask for a show this time around. It's more of a meet and greet than a dinner and show type event." His glance shifts back to Revelin, "But you're right in that these types don't make as much as the one with the entertainment. But it also costs less to do this type so there's less risk." He pauses, giving a small frown before he nods to the hooved man, "Rev… right?"

Shrugging, Tom replies, "Rev, Tom, Revelin - any of the above. …Just not 'Thomas'. I can't stand that. My mother calls me 'Thomas', even now when she calls. I always begin to think I'm in trouble or something." He raises his cup to his lips and drains the last of the punch. "I haven't been to a charity function like this in ages…" he murmurs to himself.

"Hmm." Mike gives a slow smirk, "Don't ever mention that bit to Wade. He'd call you that on principle." Eyes shift over to another table where the pledges and donation jars are situated. "Well, if you like charity functions, New York is the place to live. I could probably book a years worth of charity functions without even setting foot outside of this city." He gives a questioning look towards a woman situated near the table who upon actually seeing Mike smiles and thumbs up. Mike gives a nod. Smile deepening as he looks back towards Revelin. "Getting settled alright?"

You have left channel Help.

"I'll bear that in mind. Wade seems to like razzing anyone anytime - hmm, sounds like me." Tom chuckles and looks back at the red-head and her smile at Mike. He frowns. "I think I just lost that one to you, mate. Or do you know her? Can I get an introduction?" He smirks. "I'm settling in fine. Made a couple of friends, I guess. I reckon I'm going to visit Massachussetts soon. One girl from there can't keep here eyes off me."

Mike glances over to Revelin, and then towards the woman who just thumbs upped him. "Oh her?" He asks, giving a smile, "Sure." He tilts his head in the direction of the table, beckoning his conversation companion towards the table. "Massachussetts? I was just over there a few days ago for another one of these events."

"Who is she?" Tom asks, looking over at the red-head and flashing another smile in her direction as Mike waves her over. He's not quite prepared to give up on the notion that she might be interested in him, instead of Mike. "And yeah, I met a girl who goes to boarding school in Massachussetts. I was going to head there for a visit sometime. What's it like? The charity event go well?"

The one in Massachussetts was a performance related one. A 'save the music' campaign. It went rather well. Lasted a bit longer than expected though." Mike's steps slow to a stop as he turns to look to Revelin "Just how old are you?"

"How old am I?" echoes Tom, with surprise. "Twenty-two," he answers - being honest for a change. He frowns. "Why, how old do I look? I get told all sorts of different things when I ask that. How old are you?" He smirks again, and toys with his goatee while glancing back at the red-head.

Mike pages: Human Torch won't keep their fingers to themselves.

You paged Mike with 'Human Torch won't keep their fingers to themselves.'

"27," Mike shakes his head, smiling a bit, "And yeah, you look close to that." He glances towards the direction of the red head who has gotten distracted by a new cluster of people near the donation table, "So, you interested in the girl at that school?"

Tom shrugs. "I don't know. I can never tell - I mean, how interested is 'interested'? I've met her twice now, and she's… a lot of fun. You know? I think she knows you too- well, she mentioned you by name, so I guess she does." Tom grins a bit, and scratches the side of his jaw. He looks a little crestfallen as the red-head turns her attention elsewhere. Oh well. "Her name's Chenda, and so far, she's great. Hey—you got someone Mike?"

"Chenda?" Mike repeats, tone a bit questioning. His lips quirk up in a chuckle as he nods, "Oh yeah. I've met her a few times. Wade thinks she's his type. But considering Wade…" He shrugs, "And uh, no. Not for me. Nothing exclusive."

Tom chuckles, both at the mention of Wade, and the comment of 'nothing exclusive'. "I've never been very good at the exclusive thing. Why bother? There's plenty of time yet for the settling down thing later on, I reckon. Funny… Chenda never mentioned Wade." He grins again. "I got to shoot Chenda up a few times in the Mall, last time I saw her - Blast…Tag? That's what you call it here? It was fun."

Mike's smile contorts to one of knowing mischeviousness, "Yeah, there's probably good reason she didn't mention Wade." Mike tilts back his head to finish off his drink.

Coming from the donation table, there's a sudden burst of movement as the red head raises her voice. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" To those who glance over, the answer seems clear as two of the men in the group from earlier are now running to the door, near full donation jars in their arms as they manage to knock over some of the older attendees as well.

"What??—" Tom exclaims as he turns toward the sound of the red-head's yelling, and then back toward the two guys running off with the donations. "Bastards," he mutters and starts looking about for something to do. The would-be, tasteless thieves are nearing the door, so Tom points a hand at it and in the course of a second or so, a dark spiral forms at the entrance to open up into a six-foot-wide portal. A similar portal opens in the air near Tom, angled down at the floor - clearly if the thieves run into one, they'll fall out of the other, almost on top of Tom and Mike in the middle of the room.

With the screaming, Mike glances back in time to see the men running. With such a scene, he doesn't quite catch what it is Tom's saying as he's a bit distracted. Dropping his cup, he starts to move after the men, but this lasts for just a bit as he ends up catching a shoved attendee instead. Righting the other person, he glances helplessly as the two men start to reach the door only for a portal to appear. "What the-" The musician turns,expression bordering upon suspicion as he looks around with the intent of spotting any persons of a certain greek-esque persuasion.

The pair of men are so intent on their moving through the crowd, shoving people out of the way and making good running time that they simply miss there being a portal in front of them. And who can blame them? What are the odds of that happening? They end up coming out of the other one, the awkward angle of entrance and lack of floor for their next step attributing them to pile ontop of each other. The donation jars, smack the floor, one breaking while the other rattles. The sound travels through the room as the sounds of surprise have converted into the silent sounds of utter shock.

"Gawd blimey!" Tom exclaims as the wannabe thieves come tumbling out of the second portal and he is forced to leap away - and he really does leap. He manages to clear the distance before neither thief nor jar can land on him, tucking his legs up and landing a few feet away with a clatter as his hooves strike the floor. He pants for breath, his attention flitting between the pile of people in front of him, and Mike who is next to them.

He suppresses a shudder and glances furtively about. "Oh boy…"

Mike is not quite lucky in that he did not get to leap out of the way. He did luck out in that the worst that he got is a random foot falling in a way that kicks him in the leg. "FF-" Through whatever God given grace that has been bestowed on him for today, Mike bites back what he wants to say as he instead takes a step back and glances to Revelin. Mike's eyes quickly shift to the thieves afterwards. No. He did NOT just see that kid just jump that far in such a manner. Ok, so maybe he did. But he's still totally looking at the the thieves. Bad thieves.

The gathering is not so accomodating as plenty of eyes are still set upon Revelin.

"Did he just-"

"That was a big jump."

One of the thieves groans, head turning to see the source of the commotion. "Hooves." He observes, shaking his head as he starts to get up, "God damn mutant."

The portals promptly vanish after Tom's hooves hit the the ground, and he brushes at his trousers. "I work out," he mutters. With so many eyes on him he starts to act self-conscious for a moment, and then adjusts his posture and demeanour to one of feigned horror - ever the actor. "Thieves! Security!!" he shouts, pointing at the thieves as they try to get up. "Someone do something, already!" He ignores the comment about his hooves and glances at Mike and then around the room - hoping someone takes over the apprehension of the thieves, before he has to do something else himself.

"Now that you mention it those legs are a bit funny looking"

"He attacked those poor men-"

As the man starts to get up, Mike reaches over to push the guy back down. "Just where the hell do you think you're going?" Mike asks, voice raised eyes giving the thief a death glare, "What the hell would make you decide to rob a charity?! That's like stealing the wig off of a locks of love kid. You don't do that!" He shakes his head, "Stupid. Just stupid." The musician's pale eyes shift up, looking towards Revelin. Expression switching to one of neutrality as he studies the portal maker.

"You can say that again," Tom mutters, eyeing those in the crowd who keep making comments about him. He moves closer to the thieves and crouches down a bit to bring his face near the men's heads and mutters: "If you two don't apologise everyone here now and turn yourselves in, I'll open up another portal underneath you and drop you from fivehundred feet up. Your choice." He glances at Mike afterward and smirks just a little. "I've always wanted to try that. After - I'm gonna go. Already getting more attention than I want."

The one who had tried getting up is sitting back down. Some how realizing that they may have peeved off a person who might very well kill them, they glance to Revelin a bit concerned. It's a mutant. Who KNOWS what those things think? One of them glances up, looking to the gathered mass of people. "We're sorry," he says rapidly, glancing towards the goaty vigilantie with a bit of concern. He glances over to his friend who remains quiet, scowling. But at least he's not trying to run away.

Mike's quiet study soon finishes. A slight nod is given before he steps forward slightly, offering a hand and a friendly smile to Revelin. "Thank you for your help in saving this fundraiser." That, is probably not helping avoid attention. Someone in the far back claps slowly. Followed by another. Followed by- no one else. Ok, so it's not a full out riot of cheer in the room, but at least not everyone's in panic mode.

After the apology from the thief and the thanks from a few in the crowd, Tom smiles a little. He looks a bit embarrassed - he's not used to actual praise, especially for being a mutant. "Um… no problem," he says in response and moves away from the thieves. "Someone… should clean up all that broken glass before anyone gets hurt." He glances at Mike. "I'm gonna go - these two aren't making it out of here with anything now. This isn't quite what I bargained for in a fundraiser. Catch you some time soon, ok, Mike?"

With that he starts heading slowly toward the door, sometimes eyeing various people in the crowd warily.

Mike tilts his head in a half nod, be it a yes or be it another acknowledgement, it is not clear but that is the response Revelin gets. Mike glances down to the would be thieves, allowing for Revelin to make his leave. "Can we get someone to clean this up, please?"

Just another day in New York.

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