Jack's Pub Goes Wet n Wild

Brief Title:
Wet n wild

Characters:
Hydro-Man Sand-Man Phantasm

Scene Runner/Watcher:

IC Date:
2009/08/03

Location:
Jack's Pub - Chelsea

Summary:
Hydro-man attacks Mike. Sandman comes to Mike's rescue. Mike returns the favor. Kind of. (time jump converted)

Social or Plot:
Social

TS:
Yes

Log:
-----==[ Jack's Pub - Chelsea ]==---------------------------------------------



A low lit, well furnished, standard English bar. Jack's Pub has quiet music playing in the background, sometimes an actual piano is being played for tips. The bar itself is located in the center part of the room and is well manicured, polished, and decorated. The waitress' all wear short, black skirts, yet still hold the feel of beauty and elegance. The bartenders all wear tuxedo shirts and bottoms and have a smile wanting to serve you.



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With the early Friday evening budding to life, there is a trickle of early birds making their way into Jack's Pub wishing to beat the rush of people that tends to start a couple hours from now. One such early bird is seated over at one of the booths. Before Mike, an almost finished meal and several empty bottles of beer dot his side of the table. His blinking eyes hint to perhaps a nice easy slumber coming his way whenever he choses to head home. But regardless of the sleepy-inducing heavy food and beer, the musician is in no hurry just yet as the short skirted waitress comes by to drop off another darkly colored bottle of beer.

Sand begins to pile up outside the entrance of Jack's Pub. Slowly, the sand piles higher and higher until it begins to form into a humanoid sand body. Eventually the body becomes flesh and turns into Bill Baker, aka the Sandman of the Avengers. Entering into the bar, he looks about until he finds Mike and makes his way over, "Mikey. . .how's goes it, rockstar?"

Bill's approach, although different, does not merit the lowering of the bottle as Mike tilts back the one he was working on to empty the contents. When the task is finished however, he sets the bottle down, freeing the hand up to gesture towards the seat across from him. "Barring the concerts of the surprise variety, it's been quiet. Still no word on who hired the crazy bitch at the festival." He leans back, tilting his chin towards Bill, "And how goes for you, Baker? Keeping busy?"

"Yeah, still need to follow up on the Scorpia incident. Been busy with the worldâs robots going all nuts and stuff." Sandman makes his way to Mike finally and gestures to order for a beer. "Alright. So now, what do you think I should get?" He asks the short-skirted waitress. She hmmns and purses her lips, "Beer is always good. But we got some stronger stuff, for a strong man like yourself, Mr. Avenger-Man." Sandman smirks, "Ya know what I think I will have me a beer. Coors is fine." She seems disappointed but goes to get his order.

"Yeah, New York's a busy busy place." Mike murmurs shaking his head, "...So it's more than those blurbs in the new-" He pauses, watching the exchange and the disappointed looking waitress. He bites his lip, stifling a snicker. "A beer for Mr. Avenger-Man," his head shakes in amusement, "It's good to be an Avenger, huh?"

"Pretty much." Sandman shrugs as he takes a seat. His expression reads as one of a man who is tired. Very tired. "So no attacks on you. Then? You've been safe." He smile as the beer is brought over. He takes it and lifts it in the air, "To safety and security." Some people hear him in the bar and agree clapping along or lifting their glasses in toast form.

Mike snerks at the question about attacks on him question, frowning for a second before the lips turn to a wry smile. "I live in New York." Mike dismisses of the action, lifting up his bottle in return of the toast, "To RELATIVE safety and security." Ah the realist. What the hell is he doing in music?

Nodding his head, "Yes, to relative safety and security." Sandman smirks. "Too true. Too true." Bar patrons nods and then he slams down his beer and orders two more for himself and another of whatever Mike is drinking for the rockstar. "How goes the music? Anything new going on?"

Mike downs a sizable amount of his beer, likely meriting the additional one that Baker ordered. He gives a small nod in response to the question before adding an explanation, "Mostly if I want to do a concert right now I can't go announcing it too far in advance in case whoever hired Scorpia has someone else on payroll." The smile weakens, "Don't want anyone else getting killed because of me." There is a rather pregnant pause before he continues, "But... surprise appearances, those I can do."

"Oh nice. . .well all of that makes sense and it is good to hear that your business team and agents and all that have the right idea about planning out how to give you good security and everything." Finishing up his last beer, Sandman is already gesturing for another. "Well, you may want to stay indoors for awhile. The world is going to hell in a hand basket."

A brow arches. "Business team?" Mike repeats, "I'm a musician. Not planning a merger." He lifts up his bottle, taking a sip, "When is the world NOT going to hell?"

"Speak it, brother. Preach it, brother." A young woman urges Mike to preach on. Sandman simply laughs, "It's true. I guess. So anything new with you?"

The woman gets a glimpse from the musician before he blinks, looking to Sandman, considering. He sips his beer. "Not much," he lies, "When we had that whole demons from Hades thing I just crashed at the Baxter Building and that's about... it. So what about the evil robot stuff? "

"Well, hopefully Ben and the others will let you know if you can stay there if things get bad. Robots are stuff are going nuts. Not sure where or what is going on, but I've been attacked a few times." Sandman sighs, "As with most of these things, we defend and hopefully the smart types will figure out what is going on."

"I kind of figure the robots will be easier to see coming than amorphous blobs of darkness that can probably go through walls without even tearing the building apart." Mike surmises with a monotone voice, "But, I'll keep that option in mind should the robots organize and start a robotacalypse.

Starting to laugh, as he envisions an old episode of Futurerama where there was indeed a robotacalypse. Sandman sips his beer, "Well, good enough then. If things don't work out with Ben and the Fantastic Four, then give me a call and maybe I can can you and some others over to the Mansion."

Mike's head tilts curiously, "You guys do that too?" The tone to the voice is a bit surprised, "Dang, if I knew that I'd have seen if I could have stopped by when you got hurt with that whole dual persona thing you had going."

"Well, I guess I would check, but I canât imagine turning someone away. Of Course, you canât simply just walk around a willy nilly or maybe even just show up. But yeah, we would do something." Sandman offers and gets another beer.

As Sandman's on yet another beer, catching up to the head start the musician had, Mike picks up his own bottle, sipping it quietly as he looks casually around the still not full but getting there pub. A rather nicely figured waitress in a short black skirt walks by, unfortunately not the one serving their table. There's an Mmm-hmm in response at Sandman's answer, "It's good to know there's that option. I'll keep it in mind but try not to abuse it. And be sure to call if I do." He pauses, frowning, "Hey Baker. I gotta ask. How DO you bring a cellphone with you if you're always traveling around via sand cloud?"

Winking, "You'd be surprised what the geniuses among the heroes can invent for us to use." Sandman chuckles as he sips his beer, "We got a couple of different inventions that helps with stuff like that." He gestures to his shirt and pants, "Even my clothes are a bit more than what you would think."

A waiter comes moving between the tables...a waiter, most people thought only waistress' actually waited on the tables. The man where the bartenders. Placing the tray down on the table, speaking in a low growl. "It looks like you gentleman could use a refill...here let me help you..." Raising an arm slightly from his side, five fingers pointing at Mike. Strangely, water running down out of the cuff of his shirt. Spashing down onto the table. "Its free refills..." Then suddenly a torrent blast of water aimed at Mike's face....

Mike looks to the clothing as he considers the answer, "Ah. So kind of like that thing Sue tried giving me once..." When the waiter comes up, Mike starts to look to him curiously. Being that the person serving their table had boobs and nice legs earlier, this is quite a change in appearance and calls for attention. "We're good on the b-" He stops talking as the sight of dripping water. The oddity of the situation is a bit of a lifesaver as being at a loss of words leads to a nice side effect of his mouth being closed. Quite nice considering the jet of water that is currently knocking him further back into the booth he's situated on is not also rushing down his throat. That would be extremely unpleasant indeed.

Instantly recognizing who the villain is, "Bench!" Two arms made of sand reach out attempting to grab the collar of his waiter uniform and the other grab the back of his waiter trousers to yank him back. "Morris! You been laying low. . .you should've stayed down in whatever toilet you were at." Sandman chides the aquatic villain.

The wizard of water, turning his head to look at other person a snear on his face as the sandy arms grab the waiter's uniform. Lips pulling into a grin, "No...just its time for a payment on my yacht...so this bloke has to get flushed...but it looks like its going to be a two for one, since you are here William!!" The torrent aimed at Mike, suddenly stopping and shifting in a watery fist. Rippling with currents just under its bluish surface. Coming around moving towards Sandman's head. Getting pulled as the waiter's uniform is yanked...

Somewhat thankful for the reprieve from the blast of water that has laid him out on the bench, Mike sputters. "Wh-" He rolls off of the bench seat, landing on the floor underneath the table as he lets what water that accumulated in his nostrils drain out. "Th-" He shakes his head, working on catching up on his breath while he's still got the opportunity to breathe in air. "Ff-"

With the uniform yanked and revealing Morris Bench as the villain. Sandman has little time to react and defend against Hydro-Manâs attack. The watery fist strikes the Avengers and sends him flying into a table, smashing it apart with his body. Solidifying his body to make it fully flesh, he mutters, "Mike, get outta here! Everyone, get outta here!" Suddenly the patrons get upset and cause a lot of chaos as they flee running past and pushing against Mike, Morris, and Sandman.

Running water as the uniform is jerked, Morris' body shifting...phasing from looking solid to liquid and back, reforming in his never changing look of dark tee, jeans, and brown boots. Looking from Sandman, over to Mike as he seeks cover. "You Sandy, are the bonus tonight...but him, he has...well, lets say I am getting paided...ALOT..." Right arm stretching out, right fist turning into water, "I hope you can hold your breath!" The large fist, watery fingers trying to close and curl around table. The fist spanning from edge to edge. Squeezing, the wood groaning in protest and then splittering. Sending a wood in all directions. The panicky patrons moving this way and that way, bumping into Morris each hit causing ripples run through him, showing he clearly isn't flesh and blood...

It is very hard to get out from under a table when there is a crowd of people fleeing right in that path and considering the results of the last time Mike followed Sandy's advice, he's... going to not head in the direction of all the fleeing bystanders at the moment. Or. That would be a great plan if the table around him wasn't breaking and Hydro wasn't blocking his way out from under the table. Shit. He takes a very deep breath. Damn it.

As wood flies, Sandman's body begins to shed sand through the smallest minutest spaces between the wooden planks on the floor. "Hey, Bench, ya idiot! You know you want the real match-up wid me. Money ainât gonna buy ya the chance to beat me." As sand sinks under the floor, more and more of Sandman sheds away and sand starts to rise up at the opposite end of the bar. People still continue to cause chaos running amok.

Patrons running amok in the pub, drawing a glance now and then from Morris. Turning to look at Sand-man, snearing as he looks at his elemental opposite. Turning to face, the Sand-man. Raising both fists, both swirling masses of water. "Perhaps, you are right...there isn't any where my mark can hide from me in this city...water is everywhere..." Frowning as Sandy, falls away fading from voice, yelling out. "You running away?!?!" Back to the mound of sand reforming across the room...

While Sandman works to distract Hydro-man, Mike takes this moment to scoot out from what's left of the table and bolt, not for the door, but towards the kitchen, away from the fleeing crowd. He's double timing it. Bolting through the swinging door like a musician on a mission. A mission of 'get me the f- outta here'.

With Mike clearing out of the bar, Sandman's voice rings out, "So, time to play. . .Bench." The mound of sand across the other end of the bar form into two duplicates of Sandman. The opposite end of the Sandman splits into two Sandman. With four Sandman surrounding Hydro-Man. "Things have changed since we last fought." Each Sandman takes a defensive stance as the last of the people have cleared out of the bar.

Hydro-Man arching an eyebrow as there are now four sand men...not the normal one. Frowning, narrowing his gaze as he turns slowly in tight circle, moving from one to another Sandman. Picking Sandman number 3. The lower half of body shifting turning to a column churning white water charging forward. Snarling, "I am not sure how you did that...but it won't save you!!!" Forget fire hose blasts of water, instead going for brute, blunt force attacks with his enlarged watery fists...

Sandman 3 is knocked over his body smashed by the solidified water. Damp pieces of Sandman 3 squirm across the floor as the wetness affects it. The other remaining Sandman shake their fist as a unified disembodied voice is heard, "Hey, remember what happened when we merged last time, Bench. . .too forever to break us apart." The three sand duplicates rush to Hydro-Man's body. "Time to get all close and shit. . .Either get out or we are gonna be closer than besties."

Having smashed into the third Sandman...just hitting him, pulling sucking up some of watery mass of body. Snarling, frowning.. almost as if he was pain. Turning to look between the other Sandmen, narrowing his eyes. "You...think I don't know that!!" Shaking his head, raising up losing his human features turning into a column of water. Raising up almost hitting the ceiling as the other Sandy's charge him. The column suddenly dropping as they get close, collasping water running across the floor in all directions...

As water falls across the floor striking at the feet of the Sandmen, there is a loud howl of pain. Whenever these two touch, the merging starts causing pain and if complete trapping the two in a hellish limbo of uncertainty and confusion. "Ok, I can deal with pain, Bench. . .what about you!"

With all of the banter and attacking going on between Sandman and Hydro-man, it's likely by now it is assumed that Mike has found a back door and is running off to be chased down at a later date. But there's a lot about Mike people don't know about unless they spend time hanging out with him. One of which is his che- *ahem* FRUGAL nature. After years of having a shoestring budget, he is a master of savings. Keep this in mind as the door to the kitchen bursts open, revealing a really p-oed, retired military looking dishwasher and a rather soaked, just as p-oed rock star. Each of with are holding an open sack of unwrapped paper towel rolls.

That's right. The master of savings knows that any restaurant worth their salt will have bought a shit-load of paper towels in bulk to have at their disposal. Mike doesn't say anything. A simple nod is all it takes to cue in his newfound friend from the kitchen to assist him as they commence with bombing anything Hydro about the room with massive quantities of the Quicker Picker Upper. You could even say there is a Bounty of ticked off men in this pub tonight.

Everywhere the water touches sand...there is mud, the water almost seeming to have a mind of its own as it moves across the floor of the pub. After the first few touches and leaving mud in its wake it starts part and move around away from the Sandy-men. Pooling togather across the room from the door to the kitchen. Hydro-Man raising up slowly, as if it takes great effort. Dragging a the back of a watery hand across his frace, catching the dripping water as if it was his precious blood. "Pain...pain is part of life..." Looking like he is going to say more, when suddenly two peopel come out armed with brawny clearly looking like they plan to clean up tonight...

The muddy merging affects Sandman as well, as his only strategy was basically to sacrifice himself or his sanity at least by re-experiencing the worst thing that has ever happened to him so that Mike could get away. As Sandman reforms himself dripping off the mud and separating his sand form from it. A pained almost hurt look form on his face. Unable to do more than facially express his pain, he allows the new arrivals to attempt their janitorial attack.

As Hydro-man becomes a more prominent figure in the room, Mike throws another roll, hitting the watery villain with it. Eyes narrowing, the expression on Mike's face plus his ready posture looks less like one worried for his life and more like one who is hooked in for a fight. He's already reaching for another roll as his recruited friend from the kitchen chucks another one at Morris.

Already, feeling the effects of sand and water mixing...turning his face to look at the two paper towel bombers. Taking a roll full in the face, it hitting him and then dropping down to the ground. A large gouge in his face, a 1/3 missing. Slowly, filling in as the water in his body shifts around. "AAAAAarggghhh!!" Another roll hitting him, it dropping down to the floor a soggy mess. Backing up, narrowing his eyes. "You...think you won!!" Stumbles back, then turns moving towards the door. Perhaps, he did what he needed to do...perhaps he does fear paper products...

Weakened, he is unable to stop Hydro-Man from leaving as Mike and his chef friend defeat the watery wizard. Still unable to turn human, Sandman continues to separate himself from the mud and when formed enough, he crumbles apart and the sand swirls out of the pub and away.

Mike chucks another paper towel towards the fleeing Hydro-Man. Just in case.

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