Privilege and Necessity

Brief Title:
Privilege and Necessity

Characters:
Beta Ray Bill and Phantasm

Scene Runner/Watcher:

IC Date:
08/23/12 22:00

Location:
Chelsea Rooftops

Summary:
Bill and Phantasm run into each other while patroling. They chat

Social or Plot:

TS:
Yes

Log:
-----==[ Chelsea - New York ]==-----------------------------------------------



The Chelsea neighborhood takes its name from a single building, now demolished for a century and a half - the birthplace of Clement Clark Moore. Somehow, the artistic element never quite went away - anchored by the presence of the Hotel Chelsea, a residential hotel that's housed artists from Mark Twain to Stanley Kubrick to Jimi Hendrix (and, most notoriously, played host to Sid Vicious's probable stabbing of his girlfriend). These days, Chelsea's back in the center of the New York art scene, as art galleries have started migrating northward from SoHo.

Chelsea is, however, still primarily residential, offering apartments, tenements, and renovated warehouses as housing options. Most of the businesses here cater to the locals.



The warmth of the summer's night is an inviting thing. Coupled with the lure of the Thursday nights and the addition of those recently transplanted here from move-in day for their choice colleges, there are plenty of people out tonight, getting to know the sites and sounds that the New York Nightlife has to offer. Also being offered with the increase of people moving around is the potential for assaults, drunk driving, drunk walking, and some women wearing way less clothing than they ought to be. Should they be separated from the herd, there is an invitation for much worse things to come later.

This is why a raven sits upon the ledge of one of the many rooftops, glancing down as he watches a small pack of college girls heading into one of the clubs. Shaking his head, the bird seems to sigh. Looks like it's going be a full night in Chelsea.



The warmth is not the comforting heat of home. But then, home no longer exists. But it's something. Being granted the gifts of the storm seems a strange and dark power when one comes from a place reknowned for its brightness and heat.

Beta Ray Bill asked around among the other Avengers what, in general, they did when protecting this place. After having 'patrol' explained to him he decided to give it a try. It's not unlike MP duties really, one just sets one's own routes. It's a bit rambling at first, until he decides to concentrate on larger concentrations of humans with the potential for 'cutting members from the herd'.

He settles above this neighborhood, standing at a high vantage point, careful to try and go unseen. It's not exactly a specialty of his, but then, he's noticed, few of the people below look up.

The night is early and with more people out in the streets. The problems will likely show themselves later. Well gee, what can he do to pass the time? Take a Na-

Oh right.

Wings spread and the Raven hops off of his respective roof, opting to take a swing around the area for any forms that seem all 'ambush'y. As he arcs his path, he comes across another form high up. Definitely not a bird, and likely not a mugger being that those prefer to be on the ground. Curious, the path adjusts even more, taking him over towards Bill.

Bill is, after all, a massive figure, even kneeling on one knee as he is, and isn't hard to spot from above. The motion doesn't draw much of his attention. He's learning that the rooftops are festooned with small birds.

So he shouldn't be all that concerned when a 2-3 foot purplish black raven perches upon Bill's head with no weight whatsoever to back up his presence. The bird's quiet for a moment, looking down where the Avenger's looking before Phantasm hurms, "It's going to be a long night."

Oh. This one again. The alien seems to take it with surprising equanimity. He's had what on might call a staggeringly bizarre life, and this? This is Thursday. Which does amuse him somewhat, considering just -whom- that day is named after.

"Is it?" he replies to what he supposes is some kind of spiritual being, after what he saw him do some time ago. "I don't believe we were formally introduced the last time."

Things tend to be quite busy when we run into each other it seems. So let's get the formal out of the way before it gets that way again," Phantasm agrees, hopping off of Bill's head to land on a ledge. He turns, giving a rather theatrical bow, one wing bended while the other extends out. "My name's Phantasm." The bird straightens up, "And you?"

"I am Beta Ray Bill." he intones formally, "Champion of the Korbinites, wielder of Stormbreaker, oath-brother to the Mighty Thor." Well, he knows how to introduce himself, that's for sure.

The bird's head tilts. "That's a long introduction. Starting to wish I lengthened mine." Phantasm looks back to the scenery below, "Um. Lets see. I mainly just tag along with those I run into. Only heard the Champion thing once. And uh. That's about it." There's a pause, "Um-" He pauses again, "Yeah, that's it." Not as good an introduction.

Bill chuckles quietly, his own formality amusing him somewhat, "I am used to that level of detail often being expected." he explains, "And what brings you out above the city this eve? And does it ever get any warmer?"

"Because I can." Phantasm replies, not glancing back to Bill as he keeps watching, "Likely why you're out and about." He glances towards Bill, "I thought it was supposed to be warm tonight. It's not?"

"My standards are...different." Bill says after a moment, "Korbin was in a cluster called The Burning Galaxy. A place of shining light and comforting heat." he continues wistfully, "Your star is slightly dim to mine eyes, your warm winds still carry a coolness. Not unpleasant, but..." but it isn't home.

"Ah." Phantasm nods, "Ok. So it is warm out." The bird chuckles, "Truth be told I don't feel anything when I'm like this so if a cold snap came through during the evening I'd be the last to know."

Bill looks to the sky for a moment, and the strange bond he shares with the weather tells him much, "It is still above. Warm and still. Humid, yes, but the few clouds are quiescent." he looks down to the people moving below, "But then, much of the dress down there would tell you -that-." he doesn't sound as if he's judging any of it. It's too far removed, too alien, for him to attach any significant meaning to it.

The reminder of the attire of the women below draws the bird's eyes once more. "It's move-in week for a lot of colleges in the area." He offers up as explanation, "About a fourth of them are experiencing their first time living away from the watchful eye of their parents." Phantasm shakes his head, "About the next month's going to contain a lot of instances where they try out things they shouldn't and if they're LUCKY, someone like us will be bailing them out when they go too far."

Bill makes a soft rolling sound of assent, "I see. That is something the other Avengers occasionally forget, I think. I lack the cultural background for much of this. The other culture I learned most of is not Earth's - though I spent some time here, it was in the company of an Asgardian, and while some of the minutiae are known to me...much of the broader cultural trends are still opaque." Obviously this is a subject he's given some thought to, and while he often comes off as perhaps a bit of an anachronism due to his manner, he's actually looking -down- from a much higher level of development.

"Well then," Phantasm considers, "I guess the next month of patrols are going to be educational for you." He extends a wing, gesturing to a cluster of girls heading into the club. One of which is basically being led in by the others. "One guess to which one hasn't been to a club before."

"Social group behavior is -easy-." Bill notes evenly, "Basics of tactical studies. Social hunting species sort themselves out by rank instinctively. Oh the details differ, but there's a balance of pressure versus encouragement." He speaks as of a long ago memory, "Train a soldier, then put him in his first firefight. You half need to threaten him and half need to make him feel protected to get him to operate at peak at first."

The bird stares at Bill, the wing lowering. He grows quiet, turning to look back at the club goers, frowning. Ah, it looks like there's no more advice. "Some groups don't really follow up on the protection side of things when they shove you in the deep end."

"Unsurprising." Bill notes, shifting his weight slightly, his long cape rustling softly beneath him, "They are children still. This isn't an exercise, but mirth. I have noticed a decided tendency, in this culture, to ignore certain seemingly-arbitrarily-chosen aspects of their lives." he adds, "And I am not speaking of etiquette or the -appropriateness- of such, but simply -ignores- them, as though they do not exist. Perhaps you can explain?"

"They're technically adults, they think because they lived long enough to reach this age that they know everything about the world but are still dumbasses?" Phantasm offers up in some abstract explanation for whatever Bill is referring to. He pauses, eyeing a younger one, "Well, mostly. There might be some fake IDs in there somewhere..."

"Not that, although I cannot doubt your statement." the engineered titan remarks, "I am speaking of the lack of information or guidance imparted about the tribulations and oppurtinies after leaving home. They seem ill-prepared to some extent, and I have seen that it is often due to certain issues, such as courtship or, to be more direct, sexual politics, being ignored as opposed to simply taught with an eye towards imparting lessons as to appropriateness of action."

The bird snerks, "Ever heard of the phrase 'In one ear, out the other'?" He nods his head to the club goers. "There's a lot of stuff going on. The amount of information that schools can possibly teach increases over time but the time period for the kids to get it crammed in their heads before it's time to go to college does not. You got a lot of different ways parents are trying to keep up with things, but with the limited time, they're going to miss stuff or not be able to drill certain things into the heads of their kids. All the harder when they're not listening. I sure as hell wasn't listening to the one that raised me all that often when I was in my teens."

"Perhaps." Bill muses, "But again, I am speaking of lack of information, not unwillingness or incapacity. Your television, for example, says little about it in any useful form, nor, for that matter, much about appropriateness in various forms of conflict resolution." he adds, "Not that we don't comprehend -fiction-, there's enow of that I've seen here and we have a great many such ourselves."

Phantasm pauses, considering matters before he shrugs, "Maybe the reason why there's a lack of information involving dealing with others when they show up on their own is that there's a lot of differences with dealing with others. Or maybe it's because socialization isn't directly tied with the booksmarts that they might be focusing on in order to get into college." He glances in a North Westerly direction. "Try observing an area where college is the last thing on their minds. See if you notice a difference in their young."

Beta Ray Bill laughs at that, still keeping it a bit soft, "Live in Asgard for a time. I believe that is such an envionment."

The bird tilts its beak in the direction of Clinton, "If you need an area of comparison that actually contains counterparts to those club goers, try checking out the Kitchen. Excluding those who are focusing on escape. Most of their thoughts are more on surviving. They HAVE to learn about how to deal with those around them."

"That, unfortunately, is not a rarity. Need oft lives cheek-to-cheek with priviledge" the alien notes, "And it is indeed a shame that many live who have no opportunities to touch their true potential. A near-universal truth, sad to tell. This world is far from unique in that."

The bird nods, growing silent as he looks back down to the club. He sighs.

"Many civilizations like to think they stand higher than others...the Kree, Skrulls, Shi'ar...but in the end, sometimes they aren't 'higher', just older and with more practical knowledge." he muses, "I like to think we've done a better job, to -some- extent, at least. We aren't conquerers, we don't oppress our citizenry. We maybe, I daresay, a bit -too- insular at times."

The Raven's mouth remains shut, giving a visibly odd frown upon the beakline. His head shakes.

"Something amiss, Phantasm?" Bill inquires.

The bird blinks, glancing towards Bill, "I was just, debating about which side of the priviledge coin I was on." He shakes his head, "It's hard to tell."

Bill looks at you for a moment, but says nothing. Obviously, if you say that, there is more to you than you have let on. But he does not pry.

The lack of response is welcomed and the bird siezes it, prolonging the moment as he sees one female club goer leaving the club in very GOOD spirits early on in the night. A bit too early. Her male companions are not quite to that level but they seem content. Alas, the silence won't last, "I got this one." The bird's wings spread as he hops off the roof, calmly gliding along as he follows the gathering.

Bill watches the bird-being fly off, wondering what more he holds back, but supposing, in the end, it doesn't much matter. He does good deeds, so he's seen, and he goes back to watching those moving below, watchful, but also trying to learn more of them from this distanced vantage point.

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