2013-01-11 Caipirinhas and Conspiracies

With temperatures in the forties, it's no surprise that so many of New York's mutant set should seek refuge inside. More specifically, many of them are lurking in one of the shadiest bars in existence. At first look it seems like one of the many basement bars that give the downtown areas of any major city a bad name. The bar is so inconspicuous that it doesn't even have a sign on the door, or a doorman. Instead, it has a tiny, misshapen bald man in shabby clothing who sits cross-legged on the floor directly inside the entrance. Beside him is a much larger bald man with equally misshapen features and arms the size of a sumo wrestler's legs. As various people walk down the stairs and go through the door, the littler of the bald men looks at them and gives the patrons a weak nod when he seems satisfied that they 'belong' there.

Making an attempt to blend, Quicksilver has thrown a black trenchcoat and a pair of shades over his normal Brotherhood Terrorist Costume. Zipping into place in front of the stairway, he descends at a relatively normal human pace and walks through the door. Receiving the nod from the smaller man, he makes his way over to the greasy bar and (without touching anything) says something in a low voice to the bartender. Receiving an indicative point from the bartender, he follows the direction of the man's finger and saunters over to the least well-lit booth in the entire shady establishment.

This is not the first place Jubilee would pick to meet a friend. But there are two reasons why she's here. One, her friend works here after school, in the stockroom, and two, her friend is the proprietor's kid. So it's here or nowhere. Fortunately, Amanda can let her in via the back door. If she's busy and can't, the two at the front know her.

Right now she's in the stockroom with her friend, both giggling and chatting about girl stuff in cautiously low voices. Coincidentally, the curtain that leads into the back is not far from that ill-lit booth.

"... here for almost two hours Mr. Mercury. Thought you were supposed to be fast." From the direction of the ill-lit booth, some slightly tense pleasantries are being exchanged. However, it is not a simple conversation between two people. Rather, it is a conversation between two men speaking different languages, filtered through the voice of a female translator. The woman continues to translate the rapid stream of Espanol that is being thrown in the direction of "Mr. Mercury." "... how did you even find this place? Isn't there a zoning ordinance against sewer-dwellers getting a liquor license?"

Good-natured chuckling comes from the man with the most see-through alias ever. Quicksilver, aka "Mr. Mercury" entertains his spanish-speaking guest's questions with a sense of humor tinged only slightly with hostility. "First, let me thank you for coming on such short notice. I regret leaving you waiting here so long, but I was in your home country tying up a few loose ends before my family's... vacation. I've just arrived back in New York a few seconds ago." He waits for a second to allow the translator to catch up before beginning again. "These people are, as you say, sewer-dwellers. But they are surprisingly resourceful and every bit as motivated to bring about change as my family is. You will be quite comfortable here during your stay, I can assure you."

"I want to thump one of those guys. He told Broo that Fruit Of The Loom was some kind of designer brand!" Jubes is saying softly to Amanda. "When we got home I was like, 'Dude, they make bargain athletic stuff and underwear. You were had.' He was like, 'You're sure?' I said, 'I'm wearing some!'"

"Oh, poor Broo! He must've been so disappointed," Amanda replies, equally softly, though she's stifling giggles, her hair turning warm pink and rippling in little waves. She has prehensile hair that changes colors and grows on command to great lengths, shrinking just as fast. Aside from their similar interests, she values her time with Jubilee because she doesn't have to worry about her mutant-ness around her. "If he believed you, I mean. Did he?"

"Totally." Jubilee winks and undoes a few buttons on her jeans, loosening them and sliding them down a bit to show the signature waistband of her blue Fruit Of The Loom panties. "I've never lied to him, and I had proof!"

Amanda goes into a gale of giggles that she quickly stifles, though her hair ripples more quickly and turns a brighter pink. "Stop that! My Dad might come in here!" She grabs Jubilee's jeans and tries to pull them back up.

Jubilee playfully resists, but blinks when she hears rapid Spanish from not far away, along with a woman's calm voice in English. Then another voice in English, followed by the same woman's voice in Spanish. "Wha..? I think I've heard that voice before..."

"Who?"

"Listen... someone's translating. The guy speaking English sounds familiar somehow."

Silence ensues as two pairs of ears strain to hear all three voices. "The shipment has already left New York and is being guarded by some of my best men and a few of these mutant friends of yours. The extra sum we requested will prove very useful getting the packages to their final location without any pesky questions being asked. I would estimate that in three days time, we will be ready to begin the initial phase, and then we will wait on you and your... family... to be ready for your vacation." The woman's voice is clear and sharp, but with a hispanic accent that is obvious even to the untrained ear. "The anguish in Quicksilver's voice is obvious from the very first word of his response. "Three days... it might as well be three years. Still, I suppose that's what we get for working with humans. I'll just have to think up a way to occupy myself in the meantime." Two sounds of whooshing can be heard through the curtain, occuring so quickly that they seem to be one continuous noise. "The bar is, as you've no doubt observed, terribly understocked. So I grabbed us a few caipirinhas to celebrate." The sounds of clanking glass, and random spanish, ensue.

"Wow, that sounds shady," Amanda whispers, moving to a better spot to listen.

Jubilee gives a little yelp and trips as Amanda lets go of her jeans to move, accidentally jerking them down past her knees. "Hey sneaky, tell me when you're gonna do that!" she hisses, catching herself against the wall. "Shipment? Shipment of what?"

"I dunno... they're not saying. But it'll get there in three days, whatever it is. And they said something about an initial phase and the English-speaking guy's family."

"Yeah... he seems kinda scornful of humans... wait, that's where I heard him before! He was stealing sunglasses in SoHo. I called the police on him."

"Well, I suppose it's time I got back to planning our next move. I'll be in town for the next few hours if you need anything, then I'm heading back down south." The sounds of people getting up and exchanging handshakes can be heard, and Quicksilver says a few words in spanish himself, cheif among them being 'Despedida!'. Suddenly, another of Quicksilver's trademarked 'whoosh' sounds happens, and then the only sounds in the bar are the low notes of people muttering conspiratorially in spanish.

"What's that whooshing sound?" Amanda asks. Naturally, she can't see what's going on.

Jubilee doesn't need to. "That means he's moved. This guy is /majorly/ fast. Like that old joke about running around the block where you don't move and ask if they wanna see it again, only for real."

"Wow. That's fast!" Amanda marvels. "Does he do it a lot?"

"I only saw him do it a few times, but probably." Jubes frowns at her friend. "What does despedida mean?"

"Dunno. I'm not doing too good in my Spanish class," Amanda says, her hair turning bluish and ceasing its waving. "By the way, you really should pull your pants up. Unless you just enjoy standing around storerooms in your undies or something."