2012 01 03 picked The Wrong Guy To Mug

Log Title: Picked the wrong guy to mug.
Characters Involved: Sebastian Shaw, Phantasm, Empath
IC Date: 3 Jan 2012
Where: Upper East Side - NY
Brief Log Summary: Sebastian Shaw gets mugged. It turns out as well for the muggers as you'd expect.
Rating: PG-13

-==[ Upper East Side - New York ]==-------——

The Upper East Side is one of the most expensive residential areas in the entire United States. Here you will find high rise apartments, overpriced high rise condos and the occasional mansion - though most are no longer private residences, occupied instead by exclusive clubs for the immensely wealthy, or embassies such as Latveria's taking advantage of the proximity to the UN. The businesses in the area are suited to that clientele - elite boutiques, expensive restaurants, art galleries, and so on. Most buildings in the area reach 20 to 40 floors, and the more expensive boast views of Central Park or of the river. Limousines are regularly seen among the taxis that crowd the streets - as, closer to the park, are horse-drawn carriages.

Winter is definitely in full swing for the city of New York. Although not as bad as last year, the 18 degree temperature is enough of a reminder for the absent minded that oh yes, it is still Winter. As a result not many linger in the streets as vehicles do the primary dropping off wile what few people who didn't travel by car are hustling their way out of their buildings to the considerably warmer underground temperatures of the subway. OH GOD WHY IS IT SO COLD?! But hey, on the bright side, there's not many people topside to mar what's left of the snow that's on the ground. Nor are there any falling flakes to help dissipate the light cast by the street lamps, which consequently make the street seem a tad darker. What count for alleyways in this area are pratically unseen with the cast of shadow with the buildings.

A well-dressed man walks slowly down the street, heels clicking softly on the pavement. He is a big man, head slightly downcast in thought, hands in pockets. Sebastian is heading back to the Hellfire Club after being dropped off down the block after a meeting with an irksome little bureaucrat from a Senate subcommittee with the Dept of Homeland Security. A nuisance about whether some of the off-record funds would be more properly spent there or with the DoD. He is walking to clear his mind, the chill penetrating a little, but the crisp air bracing. His corded muscles are loosneing up a bit and he sighs, breath fogging instantly in the air.

Near the alleyway entrance, a man, dressed in what looks to be a torn business suit, slams a hand against the brick of the building corner. He leans against it, seemingly in pain as he gives a bit of a gasp. "Help," he implores of Sebastian, turning to stumble his way.

As the man speaks to Shaw, there is the glint of metal coming from a firearm that juts out from the alleyway as the person the stumbling man may be requesting help from speaks, "Sir, if you will bring him back here we'll get this done with as quickly as possible."

Shaw slows as he walks, his eyes crinkling a bit as he turns to regard the interruption. His expression betrays something perhaps not to be expected from a man stumbling across such a sight.

Annoyance.

Surveillance -clearly- needs a little talking to once he gets back. Such things simply should not be allowd to progress this far so close to the Club. That, and those involved are clearly not as professional as the armed man is making himself out to be. A target should never be able to break away like this.

An audible huff escapes Shaw as he turns slightly and asks, with deliberately exaggerated sarcasm, "Really, now? -Here-?"

"I don't get to pick out the weather." The man with the firearm snaps, gun seemingly more focused upon Shaw than the other, "Wallets. Now."

The escaped victim teeters near Shaw but by the grace of what balance he seems to have left, does not run into Shaw. He looks over to the man with the gun giving an overly frightened expression as he tosses over a rather thin wallet towards the robber. Ah, such a good victim that guy is.

And then, to add to the atmosphere, a purplish black raven swoops down upon the group, landing upon Shaw's shoulder. Oddly enough, there's no actual weight setting upon it. And yet the bird is there.

Sebastian Shaw starts, just a touch, at the unexpected contact. Weightless, and he is -deeply- sensitive to physical touch. No energy transfer at all. Unnatural. His mind runs over this information in an instant, filing it away. He actually -relaxes- a touch, because now, he reasons, he likely won't have to brutally kill several armed men right in front of the Club, something he'd much prefer not to do.

His lips quirk upwards in a contemptuous smirk, "A mugging? Is -that- all?" he asks, sneeringly. His confidence might be a bit intimidating to the weak-willed.

The bird's head tilts, beak opening, either to the response from Shaw or from what movement the potential victim is expelling. Whatever the response the bird flies off of Shaw's shoulder, seemingly disliking the disagreeable perch.

The staggering man isn't staggering much anymore as he seemingly straightens, hand reaching into the tear of his suit. Quite a nasty tear, really. He should really see about replacing it.

As for the man with the gun he's frowning, "Your wallet. YOU don't need it."

Sebastian huffs again, shaking his head slowly, exasperated with the annoyance. He betrays literally not one iota of fear, "Perhaps you 'gentleman', and I use the term loosely, should run along now and go bother someone else." His eyes darken, dangerously, "I'm not in the -mood- right now."

The man with the gun glares at Sebastian, keeping the firearm trained upon him as he shakes his head, "And I'm not in the -mood- for your uppity better than you 1 percent asshole stalling." Ok, gentleman he is not, nor is he observant as the bird that flew off just earlier arcs its flight to divebomb into the alley, beak pointing right at the man's back. "So you either give me y-AOO!" He stumbles forward, with the abnormal force of the bird hitting him, gun arm swinging down in an attempt to balance him.

As for the companion, he blinks at the sight, momentarily forgetting to retrieve what it was he was pulling out of the suit, "Sh-" He removes his hand from his pocket and starts running off.

Shaw 'hmmphs' softly. As he suspected, something abnormal is indeed at work here. He doesn't spare the man running away a second glance, he's on video, if he feels the need, he can likely be tracked down, maybe as a bit of 'extra training' for the surveillance staff. That thought makes him smile, grimly.

He steps back two paces, hands still in pockets, to watch.

The fight at hand is a tad bit comedic. As the gun hand goes down, the raven's flight jerks up and seemingly loop de loops into a straight path for the gun holding hand, beak stabbing into the flesh around where the tendons controlling the trigger finger would be. Finger twitching outward instead of inward, the gun ends up getting dropped completely as the man is instead screeching about rabid birds. Gone is the serious robber and here instead is the shrilly wannabee crook. When the bird seemingly starts flying for the face, that hints to the man to start running. Skidding along after his already long-gone companion.

Sebastian Shaw has barely moved, hands still in pockets, he's actually smiling a bit, amused. "Well," he addresses the bird, "I see I had a guardian angel tonight." Obviously he wasn't concerned about the attempted mugging whatsoever.

After being sure that the man wasn't coming back, The bird seemingly brushes its wings before strutting back. At Shaw's response, the bird looks up at him, head tilting, "If I was your guardian angel, I'd put in my two week's notice after tonight." The bird replies, shaking his head, "Tell me, when someone has a gun on you, do you always try to encourage people to pull the trigger? Or were you just extremely bored tonight?"

Sebastian Shaw smiles even more widely, walking over to look down at the 'animal', "Oh, let's just say men like me take precautions about our safety. A pair of amateurs out to score a wallet likely full of cards they couldn't use and -hopefully- some cash? I've been trained to deal with that. But really, how much could there reasonably be? A few thousand at best?"

He shrugs slightly, eyes drifting towards the Club entrance, his second home.

The truth, of course, is close to that. Shaw -has- been trained by some very hard, very dangerous men, but that aside, he could have killed them both with such ease it would have been laughable.

The bird scoffs, craning his head to look up at the Shaw who is seemingly looking down at him, there's a bit of temptation to take the form of something much bigger than Shaw in appearance, but really the image of Shaw talking to a bird that's just a little over two feet tall? "A few thousand to you might not be much but to some, that's what? Two? Three months of minimum wage to some? If there's a next time, just toss the wallet."

"Oh, it isn't the money." Shaw notes dryly, "It is indeed the principle. One simply can't let people demand what they want and roll over for them."

The man certainly seems at ease chatting with a bird in the middle of the street in the dead of winter. Must have an interesting life.

The bird's head bobs, eyes looking up towards Shaw before he straightens up to his full visible height, "Well, principles are fine. Until you get shot over them. Sometimes it's smarter to give a small concession."

Sebastian Shaw says, "I'm willing to take risks for my principles."

"But that, was a STUPID risk." The raven snaps. Giving a shake of the head, the bird struts over in the snow towards the gun, "HOW many people's lives are dependant on you being able to continue breathing?" The wing reaches over, picking it up as he proceeds to start unloading it in a display that is highly uncharacteristic of a bird. Or the design of a bird's feathers for that matter. Eyes shift over to the wallet that the other robber tossed in an effort to prompt Shaw to do the same, "You're supposed to be SMART aren't you?"

Pulling up in a limousine driven by a rather buxom young blond, Manuel de la Rocha has arrived in a style and manner befitting the neophyte member of the Hellfire Club. As the limo pulls into the driver, it suddenly slams the brakes. Empath has spotted Shaw. He had heard of the Kingâs return, but seeing the man in the flesh makes it more palpable for the Spaniard that any plans he had for a coup, must be put on hold until he can figure out Shaw's game. Taking a quick exhale, the Spaniard gestures for his driver to exit and open his door. As he steps out and is dressed fashionably well in modern day garb, with a accoutrements showing the ancestry of the club. The Black Rook exits the limo and approaches Shaw, making no notice of anyone or anything else around them. "Senor Shaw, it is good to see you."

Sebastian Shaw's smile remains, "I'm still here, unharmed, aren't I?" he notes, a bit more quietly, "You also were a bit less than unnoticable. Your weight-" he notes, "-or lack thereof."

The big man's head turns slowly to regard the younger one, his expression losing its mirth to some extent, "Mr. de la Rocha," he notes evenly, "I'd heard you'd managed to avoid the…unpleasantness." no details, not in front of the 'bird', who he seems to have just been addressing. In fact, "This…personage," he gestures to the raven, "just happened to have done me a bit of a favour just now."

"That would explain why I always did seem a bit light on my talons." The bird murmurs. As the limo nears by and comes to a quick stop, Phantasm grows quiet, glancing towards the now present Empath. The bird's head tilts, opting to seemingly be a bit more like a bird but that is short-lived as Shaw directs Empath's attention towards the bird. There's a lift of a wing, giving a bit of a wave in greeting. Yeah, who's kidding who? It's a bit late to be passing himself off as just another bird.

Avoiding the unpleasantness is quite the understatement, however, he endured his own test of the fittest inside a volcano, but that's a story for another time. Noting the loss of mirth, Manuel seems to frown ever so slightly as he acknowledges the bird. Studying it a moment, he attempts an empathic scan of it as he notes it, "Well, whatever the favor was. Thank you…" He seems at a loss of words for a moment, "And what is this bird's name so that it can be thanked properly?" He smiles ever so amused when the bird lifts its wing in a waving gesture and nods his head in a similar gesture of greeting.

Shaw certainly does take things in stride. He simply gestures expectantly to the bird at Manuel's question.

The bird lowers his wing. "I'm called Phantasm." He offers, giving a name and indirectly an explanation to the oddities of earlier. The bird glances from Empath and then towards Shaw. Taking note of the proximity to certain locations, there's a general pause as he stuffs his wings into his pockets. Wait, pockets? Well dang. This bird has pockets it seems. Although it's very hard to see just WHERE the opening is.

Studying the bird a moment, partially amused and partially annoyed, Manuel's empathic scan reveals nothing from the bird…as if it was a true Phantasm. "How Edgar Allen Poe of you? A phantasm in the form of a raven." He looks back to Shaw as he was the one who the bird helped, let him deal with it. Manuel simply remains standing and watching as he does an emotion scan on Shaw.

Shaw is feeling a few last, very soft traces of annoyance at something which occurred before all this, as well as a vague, unpleasant sense of upcoming malice - the muggers, they will make excellent 'practice' for the Club's surveillance team, but he is also amused by the whole current situation. Bizarre, yet harmless things such as this aren't often part of his life, "How apropo." he notes to the bird.

However, his mind also harbours a touch of suspicion, directed at the younger man. Unsurprising, really.

"Not much better to scare the hell out of people than to have their asses handed to them by the embodiement of a short story." Phantasm comments the bird's head tilting as he looks towards Empath, "Or more embarassing to try and live down." The bird sighs, pulling his wings out of the pockets as he turns his attention back towards the now unloaded gun and the wallet. Eying the size of the gun, the bird glances in the general direction of the nearest precinct.

Smiling to himself. o O (Well good to see I scan him. I will have to play this one carefully. With Shaw back, I will just have to bide my time until I can take over.) Manuel watches the whole interaction with the bird and thinks what an odd way to start the year. Though his eyes follow the birds to the gun and the wallet, but he makes no move to get either, simply stopping and staring is all.

Giving a shake of the head the bird looks back towards the gun and stretches out his wings, as he relaxes,the bird seems a bit bigger and the talons seem a bit wider. Shifting over, he sets one foot upon the gun while the other grabs the wallet.

With that Shaw nods his thanks to the bird, "And while this has been most intriguing. I've business to attend to." Turning to Empath, â?I will see you inside shortly, Mr. de la Rocha.â He exits the scene. Manuel nods his head and looks to the bird, "So you are not human. Clearly. You can change your size and still grasp at things What are you a mutant or some sort of magic or technological creature? Alien, perhaps?"

The bird looks over to Empath, looking at him for a few lingering moments before giving a bit of a smile. One that, really does not fit on a raven's face. Heck, do any smiles fit? "It'd depends on who you ask." Phantasm replies, "You get a lot of weird interpretations. I've even run into one guy who considers me a herald."

Actually chuckling for a moment, Manuel who has seen all types of people and dealt with everyone from centuries old witches, seen ancient Roman city in the middle of the Amazon and been teammates with some of the more colorful mutants on the planet, he finds this particular interaction more amusing and less annoying now that Shaw has gone. "So what exactly happened here, Phantasm?" Noting the gun and the wallet, "I hope no one was foolish enough to try to rob Shaw."

"Not one, but two." Phantasm supplies, still standing on the gun and wallet as if they were the most comfortable things to stand upon. "You seem quite sure it was foolish on their part when they were the ones with the gun." The bird tilts his head curiously, "It makes me think he had his own Ace up his sleeve when it came to such a situation."

"Well, one never really knows. He is a famous businessman. They would not have gotten very far. Shaw is as recognizable as any celebrity." Manuel pauses a moment and then adds, "Well, I guess the average person does not know who he is. Thus the muggers trying to rob him."

"Or it could be he's out of context for them." Phantasm considers, fluffing out his wings, "Either way, hopefully that won't be a discouragement from him continuing to support local charities." He flicks his head, looking back to Manuel, "I'm going to go drop this stuff off, You best run on insiide. If what I saw on the thermometer's right, it's cold out."

"It won't be." Upon the bird mentioning the cold weather, Manuel shivers a bit and nods his head, "Very well. Thank you for this rather amusing start to 2012. Happy New Year, Phantasm." Manuel takes his exit.

Left alone, the bird waits a bit longer, making sure that the other two are gone. Stepping off the items, the bird contorts into a more human like shape. Hoodie on with an unnatural shadow set under the hood to obscure all the features of the face, the new figure picks up the gun and wallet and heads towards the station.

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