2013.03.25 - Ageless in New York

About 20 minutes after Namor has made his grand re-entrance into the world a young man can be seen coming out of a tourist trap type shop, looking mighty unhappy. "Fifty bucks for a hoody!? And almost the same for a pair of jeans that I swear is going to be falling apart after two washes? Thank God She-Hulk has small feet for her size. Dunno where I would have gotten shoes around here. And friggin' Namor showing up out of nowhere, trying to punch me for offering a hot dog and making me waste mine to boot. This is one crappy day... Now where was that hot dog vendor." He starts walking down the street bordering the harbor, looking for the aforementioned hot dog vendor, determined to fully complete the 'mission' that brought him to the harbor in the first place.

Most ship captains wouldn't really let strange looking or acting folks on board, but when that strange person is a female, of amazonian proportions (though not as big as She Hulk, yikes!) and when that woman pays with like a handful of rare stones and gems along with a couple gold coins that are antiques... exceptions can be made.

The trek across from the Baltic sea was long, but Brynn offered to pitch in and help where she could. After all, the tech level of these people was -deplorable-. She crafted tools for them to use that would not break or bend and would almost never wear out for the life of the ship, and she spent a lot of time simply sitting on the deck, watching the sea go past.

Her weekly ruminations to the Captain about, "Are you sure this is as fast as this vessel can travel?" and, "Are you sure you have never heard of Contra-Grav drives?" got old really quick... in the end, the cargo ship pulls into port at New York and the lone passenger disembarks. She is dressed in what could be considered way out of date clothing... more like armor. But there are oddly advanced styling to it. Sleek looks and far thinner than any medieval armor would be. Super lightweight stuff y'know? A breastplate with leather straps... a sculpted breastplate for that matter, along with leather breeches. That's it. No sleeves, no shoulders other than those straps, and look, belly button! She's carrying a couple things. In one hand a large canvas style bag (durable as hell) and obviously filled with many things. The other hand carries a large case... like tuba sized, and both are hefted effortlessly as she meanders down the gangplank.

Gabriel finally having found that elusive hot dog vendor is now leaning against the rail that Namor decided wasn't to his liking, once again with one hot dog in each hand. Since he's watching ships come and go as he eats he can't but help see then tall, impractically dressed woman arrive at the docks. And watch he does. After all, he is an 18-year-old and she's a hot woman. Although he does cringe as he thinks about how cold that breastplate has to be right now...

It is a very good thing that the inside of the breastplate is lined with soft cloth... like shammy soft. And.. she is for all intents and purposes not just immune to the varied temperatures, but almost doesn't even notice extreme heat or cold unless she goes out of her way to do so. Reaching the base of the gangplank, she sets down her ... packages and turns to wave back before calling, "My thanks! Safe travels to you!" There is an odd accent to her voice. Something Northern European... maybe German, Russian, something... a linguist might even be confused but, it is what it is. The deck hand that waves back, shouts something in Russian and she grins before nodding. "Da!" she calls out, "Vodka "

That done, she turns to reach down and heft her over-sized parcels and looks at the city with... well there is a mix of dread and overt curiosity in her gaze. "Local tongue.. English." she nods to herself as she says that in her accented voice.

Gabriel follows the newest visitor to New York City with his eyes until she's at the end of the gangway and near his place at the rail. With a small smile he says, "Well, yes, English works. But this /is/ New York City so depending on where you go Spanish, Chinese, Japanese, or Italian will work just as well." Then he takes another bite of his hot dog, finishing the first one, and adds, "Isn't that outfit a bit cold for this weather?"

As you start to speak, Brynn turns and her ice blue eyes regard you for a long silent moment. "So many languages in one place? So many languages in one world." She shakes her head a bit and adds, "I am continually amazed that the denizens here have yet to unify under one government and one language." She then directs her gaze downward and shrugs, "It is functional enough. As for the temperature..... oh yes. Mortals do tend to be affected by temperature extremes. I had forgotten..."

Gabriel frowns a little bit and covers his confusion by taking the first bite of his first hot dog. Definitely not offering to share this time, last time it almost got him turned into Gabe-paste. Once he swallows he asks, "You're not from around here, are you? One government? Maybe once we figure out one that works... Although Star Trek is a pretty good example... Maybe if we followed their ideals. Anyway, back to you, what's this talk about mortals? Aren't we all mortals here?"

Smirking a bit, Brynn adopts a kind of reflexive almost dismissive or condescending demeanor. It's not a conscious choice, it's just... well she's immortal, she does that. "I haf lived among mortals, and passed as a mortal many times, but this time, I feel that it ist time to simply be myself. So no, I am very much not mortal. As for this.. Star Trek, yes, I did just return from a trek through the stars, but I fail to see vhat that hast to do vith a world government..."

Gabriel arches an eyebrow and takes a moment to think through the comment finally saying, "You /really/ aren't from around here are you? Star Trek is a television show in which not only the Earth nations but most of the galactic races in what they call the Alpha Quadrant have actually all united under one government called the United Federation of Planets. Under the UFP hunger, war, and all the other social maladies have been eradicated leaving people nothing to do but explore the galaxy "looking for new life and new civilizations". The perfect socialist Utopia, where everyone is equal."

Just... watching you for a few moments, Brynn has trouble keeping a straight face. Of course, she's not really -trying- very hard. "All social maladies... war no longer happens?" she asks. "Vhat fantasy ist this?" She inclines her head and adds, "Vhat ist this thing you speak of... television?" Now she -is- starting to laugh a bit. "Truly you do not know vhat ist really out there, do you? Skrulls, Kree, Thanagarians, Shi'ar, the mad Titan... the only constant in all the universe is conflict. There is -always- war, but the mortals of this vorld are truly mad, for they make war upon their own kind... proliferately."

Gabriel's mind is kind of blown at this point, "TV, you really don't know what TV is??" He turns to look around the area and spotting a nearby sports bar he motions towards it, "Hmmm. Well, I can show you what TV is all about. And you're probably hungry after your trip too. You could get some food there as... Wait, do you even have money?" Yep, completely ignoring the list of alien races for the moment.

"I do have money. Ya." says Brynn as she shrugs her shoulders and follows along. Food does sound good... it's not that she is starving but she is able to appreciate a love of food. "I hafe not lived among mortals in.." she pauses to do some mental math, "Roughly four hundred and forty years." She grins and shrugs, "Give or take a year or two. I hafe been among my people, unt then exploring the universe vith many of them united." Her nostrils flare as she smells the food from the sports bar as the two of you approach closer. "What.. interesting smells." she states...

Gabriel plays the gentleman by holding the door open for Brynn, which in this case is as much as practicality as it is a gesture of politeness since she has both hands full. Once they're inside he leads them to a table and points at the TVs along the walls, "Those are TVs. They receive signals from the broadcast offices that let them show different programs. Most of what they're going to have on here is sports. " Once they're both sitting and have menus he goes back to the Star Trek conversation, "And there is plenty of fighting in Star Trek, just not among the members of the United Federation of Planets. War and other social maladies have only been eradicated on Earth in the show's history."

Moving inside, Brynn grins, "It ist like a drinking house from the Northmen peoples." she states as she moves over to one side of the door and drops her pack with a metal *chink* of many metal items inside clanking together. Then she sets down her other case, the hardwood, ironshod case with the single handhold atop it. That done, she follows you to a table, her movements that of someone who is comfortable in her own skin, the grace of a tigress... not like super nimble, just someone who has had a lot of chance to learn the way her form moves.

Seats, right... she settles in and studies the TV screens. "I see." she remarks, "They are image monitors. Why did you not say so at first?" She gestures about with both hands, "Image monitors. Show me a view of this location from orbit!" she exclaims. Though.. when nothing happens except for many of the customers to stare at her... she inclines her head and looks at you in a manner that wordlessly says, 'really?'

Gabriel chuckles a little bit at the reaction and shakes his head, "Like I said, television, not image monitors. If you ask the waiter nicely they /might/ lend us the remote control for one of the TVs so we can change channels." Motioning at the menus in front of them he says, "Their hamburgers here are pretty good. I really like their cheddar mushroom ones. So, where are you from anyway?"

... "Remote?" Brynn looks about and then leans forward, "You mean they are not voice controlled, but require a..." and she says this part almost as if she refuses to believe it, "... handheld control unit? I had not realized that mortals had remained so primitive. I thought that they had at the very least advanced to a moderate technological level. I am told that seventy years ago... the atom was split. Tell me they have at least managed to miniaturize fusion reactors small enough to install in their ground cars..."

Another pause and she shakes her head, "Whatever you wish to eat, I shall join you. Do they serve ale here?" she adds. Talk about a walking paradox.. talking high tech and then vikinesque... "Oh, and I apologize for being rude. I have been ignoring your questions and comments. You say that upon your... screens, you watch these treks among the stars? They -must- be entertainment and fantasy, because they could not be reality... and as for where I am from... I am afraid that I cannot reveal to you the location of my home. But I have spent the most time among mortals, in the land you call.. Scandinavia."

Gabriel arches his eyebrows a little bit and shakes his head, "I think people are worried about radiation poisoning so we use combustion engines in our vehicles. And yes, Star Trek is a fantasy entertainment show." Motioning to a waiter he orders two cheddar mushroom burgers along with whatever ale they have on tap, and yes, they have ale, and a glass of soda since he wasn't planning on drinking so doesn't have a 21 and above ID on him. Orders complete he returns to the conversation.

"Scandinavia, huh? Well, that explains why you don't seem to be bothered by the cold we have here. So you talked about being yourself this time around, what does that mean? At this point I'm guessing you're a mutant or an alien... How close am I?"

Smirking a bit, Brynn shakes her head, "Neither. My people are of the Earth... We are Eternals." she remarks, though it could be just as easy to have not heard the plurality used there. "And I don't worry about the cold because... it does not bother me. We control our bodies ... entirely. We do not allow ourselves to succumb to disease, temperature extremes, aging...." Um, she can -choose- to stay young forever? WTF?

The waiter comes back with Brynn's ale and Gabriel's soda, setting them in front of their respective owners. And after a promise of a good tip he also comes back with the remote to one of the TVs, which Gabriel offers to Brynn, "There we go. Now you can experiment with it." He doesn't seem too bothered by the idea of someone that can control their body at the cellular level, which some might find strange but instead he seems interested more than anything else, "So why come to the US? It sounds like your people have a whole other civilization going on that's a lot more advanced than ours..."

"I haf been vith them for almost five hundred local years. They asked me to focus on our people unt not upon the mortals I spent a millenia vith." Brynn shrugs and looks at the remote, all of those buttons and she inclines her head while continuing to speak, "I am still quite young, so I do as the elders order. But... when we returned, they gave me leave to return to the world of the mortals, and told me that New York City was one of the largest concentrations of mortals on the planet. Plus... events transpire that I vish to take part in. I haf heard that even Thor, god of thunder, resides in this city."

She reaches down to a boot and pulls out a knife, which she aims at the remote like she's about to try to pry it open and examine the innards... unless stopped.

Gabriel lets out a low 'Ack!' and snatches the control away. "Whoa there. Not only will they take it away but they'll probably make us pay for it if you take it apart." Then his eyes focus on the knife, which gets another raise eyebrow followed by a quick look around the sports pub to see if anyone has noticed it, "And please put that away. I'm pretty sure its too big to be legal in NYC." After a few more moments thought he nods his head and adds, "And yes, I do believe I've heard about Thor living in NY... Are you two related?"

Eyes narrowing as the remote is taken away, Brynn flips the knife around, blade running back against her arm. It's a posture of safety, reflexive to prevent it from cutting anyone or anything by accident. "I guarantee you, technology as primitive as that... I could easily repair or improve." she mutters before your comment about her blade. She flips it back around then, and laughs.. more of a snort, and then a bit more, and then a raucous belly laugh. "If -this- is against the local laws.. I had better do something with those!" she adds before pointing the blade at her packs by the door. Now.. the gleaming sheen of the stainless blade draws quite the bit of attention.

And then there is a shake of her head, "Related to Thor? No.. I was mistaken for one of the Valkyr long ago... Brunhilde. My name is Brynhildr... you can see how they might have made such a mistake."

Gabriel looks up for a moment as he thinks back on the conversation as its gone up to now and realizes something kind of important, "You know? I just realized I haven't introduced myself. Nice to meet you Breenhilder. I'm Gabriel." He offers a hand to shake with remarkably bad timing as its exactly when the waiter brings the food over to the table as well.

Her eyes flickering back to you, Brynn flips her knife over again and tosses it to her other hand before extending her right hand your way. She catches the knife without much apparent effort though. "Well met Gabriel." She has an accent of her own, so hey.. it's not really that bad if her name is pronounced -mostly- correct. "You are a kind mortal to at least try to help a stranger who may or may not be what she seems to be." And then she eyes the server as the stuff is set down and then she says back to you, "Perhaps you could tell me what you suggest I do with my wares and the gifts that I brought should I manage to locate Thor?"

Gabriel makes the shake a little shorter than it would normally be so that the server can put down the food and then winks at Brynn, "Well, most New Yorkers are the complete opposite but I grew up in the South so I guess I still have some of that Southern hospitality ingrained in me. Add to that the fact that I'm not quite what I seem to be," his voice drops a bit at this point, as if he's not really willing to have others in the room hear that, "and I feel a little more comfortable than most would be." He pauses a moment to think about her question and then makes a bit of a face, scrunching his lips off to the side, "Weeellll... I would suggest you maybe say they're collector's items and arrange to keep them in a bank until you've settled on a place to live. As for getting a hold of Thor... He works with the Avengers and they've got a pretty public profile. I bet they could help with that..."

"I've already made arrangements. I sent ahead... perhaps I should simply get to the shop that I arranged to purchase while on the way here. That cargo ship was so very slow!" she adds, almost like she had just said, 'SQUIRREL!' in the middle of chasing you. But then she shrugs, "Those are samples of my work which I will display so that others know of my skill as a smith. Should I show them to you?" she asks. Of course, the burger is before her and she eyes it before a single chop with her utilitarian knife slices it (and the plate beneath it) in half. Then she skewers one half of the burger before lifting it as if planning to eat it that way. "Oh, I must apologize for damaging that.." she says before reaching into a pouch and pulling an ancient gold coin out and laying it on the table.

Gabriel boggles both at the way the knife slice right through the plate and at the gold coin and shakes his head, "Please put that away. How about I pay for the food today until you can change your coins into local money? That thing'll probably pay for my food, yours, the plate, and the meals next two tables over." With a little bit of an eyeroll he pushes the coin back at her and picks up his burger in a more normal fashion. As he bites into the burger he's looking around a bit, almost as if wondering why the staff still hasn't commented on the cutlery. But hey, gift horses and all that. "Anyway, if you have a shop already then you can probably just take your stuff right there and just visit the bank to exchange your money."

Well, this is New York, and Brynn is dressed in like.... a medieval breastplate. But they -are- on the phone in the back, making inquiries and such. Brynn inclines her head and shrugs, picking up the coin. "If you wish." she states before placing the coin back in her pouch. She watches you bite into your burger and then pulls her blade from hers and cleans it on a napkin (after all, that's what they're for, right?) before she reaches down and sheathes it again and eats hers more... traditionally. "Perhaps I should simply transport my gear to my new shop and put it on display properly..."

Gabriel nods in satisfaction as she catches the eating hint without having to be told. And knowing the cues to look for when he's not welcome at an establishment anymore he does realize what's going on in the back so he starts eating a bit faster, already digging money out of his pocket to put on the table. Enough to pay for the meal, the plate, and leave a healthy tip. "That sounds like a good plan. As soon as we're done here I'll help you flag down a cab and pay them for the trip. Make sure they don't go the long way around..."