8/28/2006 Times Square ------------------------------------------------------------------ Times Square is the centerpiece of the city. It is located at the intersection of Seventh Avenue and Broadway and stretches a few blocks in length. Playhouses, movie theatres, and nightclubs dot the area. Times Square is also home to the Allied Chemical Tower, the location from which the 'ball' drops on New Year's Eve. ------------------------------------------------------------------ Stan catches the hey. Well, he did run off a little faster for that person than he did for anyone else. With a very quick bow to the girl he walks back to her, moving much slower than before. Of course, Stan's 'slower' is about three times the speed of a car in a high speed chase. ------------------------------------------------------------------ Often this extremely twitchy lad is smiling, though his expression isn't usually clearly visible because of the large mouthpiece he wears. He is fairly tall, standing a bit more than six feet tall, and has an about average build. His clear tanned skin and shoulder-length cinnamon hair brings out his green eyes fairly nicely. Whenever he grins, his very clean white teeth are clearly visible: it looks as if he puts a lot of care into his appearance. Most of the time, this young man is wearing simple blue overalls, with a mechanical backpack bearing the logo 'Stan-ware'. Underneath, he wears a simple white shirt and blue jeans with a black leather belt to keep his pants up. In the pockets of the overalls, there is almost always some kind of candy bar or snack, ready for eating. On his feet, he doesn't wear any footwear of any kind. It seems odd that anyone would be walking around the streets without shoes on. Over his ears is a large pair of headphones. ------------------------------------------------------------------ "Um... hi?" Jaycee says to Stan, just blinking at the display of rapid speed. This is one of the few times she's run into a super-powered being. "You're fast," she says dumbly. Stupid! "Er. I mean. Kinda hurt my ears," comments the girl, sticking a finger in one said ear and wiggling it. ------------------------------------------------------------------ Standing at about 5'3", with a rather slender figure, the girl before you is not the most imposing person around. Two deep blue eyes peer out of a nearly perfect oval shaped face, framed in locks of hair that accentuate her delicate jawline. Said hair is of a brightly colored blond hue, which continues down to the small of her back in a long ponytail, tied in place with a simple black band. Her skin is smooth and pure, a healthy shade of peach in color, and nowhere are there any signs that she uses makeup. Her straight, well formed nose seems to fit the size of her face just right, being neither too small nor too large. Her lips, full and pink, conceal a set of nearly perfectly straight white teeth when her mouth is closed - she must have had braces at some point. She doesn't seem to know how to dress though - for clothes she wears a pair of cross trainer tennis shoes and some cargo jeans, baggy everywhere but the hips. Over that a snug white baby-tee hugs her slender figure quite well, but it's mostly obscured by the loose, oversized red and black plaid flannel she wears - which looks like it was made for a male about a foot taller and maybe twice as heavy as her. On her left wrist she wears a steel 'Fossil' watch that looks like it was actually made for a girl - other than, perhaps, the wire rimmed glasses that sit on her nose. Overall, the somewhat ratty clothing gives her a sort of 'tomboy' appearance, but she could still be considered quite pretty. ------------------------------------------------------------------ Otto makes his way through Times Square at a purposeful stride, hands buried in the pockets of his coat, the brim of his hat pulled down, dark glasses obscuring his eyes. Yes, sunglasses at night. Though by every appearance a man with places to be, he pauses as the super-speedy young man zips by him on the way to the girl, turning to peer toward the pair of youths. Stan replies through the mouthpiece that he's wearing, "Why, hello. I am not fast, though, that's merely your perception of me. To tell you the truth, you are extremely slow." This speech of his has been repeated many times and sounds very rehearsed. He could be a pro at saying that; it almost sounds convincing enough to be believed! "/I'm/ slow?" Jaycee raises an eyebrow, not liking the sound of that. "How arrogant," she murmurs, looking offended. "Do you go around to everyone saying things like that?" she asks. Her accent is... undeterminable, though it's got a slight hint English in it, perhaps. She's definitely not /from/ here, wherever she's from. Quite the opposite of Otto's purposeful stride, Marta makes her slow, timid way through Times Square, eyes wide and fearful as she looks around, arms hugging herself tightly. Her appearance is a bit disheveled, hair wind-blown, the neck of her dark brown over-shirt falling down over her shoulders. Stan waggles a finger rapidly at Jaycee, generating a tiny gust of wind like a fan. "Oh, don't take it like that. Perhaps you prefer the term 'accelerationally challenged'?" is played through his mouthpiece. He shakes his head rapidly, "No, that is too long. I use the term 'slomo', and it's not intended as an insult. It's merely your nature which you cannot help." Nexus ------------------------------------------------------------------ Marta is a young woman of average height and build, with the dark complexion often found in those of a gypsy line. Thick, wavy brown hair with lighter highlights falls to just past her shoulders, and from under long bangs, dark, haunted brown eyes peer out at the world, often as though seeing something that seems not to be there. She's wearing a tan tank top under a darker brown, loose, long-sleeved shirt, which often falls off of her shoulders, and a matching broomstick skirt, the bottom hem of which has a gold flower design woven into it. Her feet are bare. ------------------------------------------------------------------ Otto catches just enough of the conversation to make his lip curl. Or maybe he just doesn't like Stan's face. Turning his gaze away, he notices the unsettled woman wandering through. Something snags at his attention, and he looks downwards. Bare feet. He glances back at Stan. Another who scorns shoes? "Hippies," he mutters, under his breath, derisively. Jaycee frowns at Stan's response, then shrugs, adjusting her backpack on her back. "If you say so," she shrugs, not seeming to care about it anymore. "I'm a 'slomo' then," she, ironically, waves at him extra slow and begins to plod away into the restaurant that she's in. It's odd that she, aside from at first, did not seem surprised by the display of super speed. Nexus gasps and shies away from some unseen obstacle, pressing back against the wall of one of the theaters that line the Square. Her wide eyes move as if watching something pass, and then she lets out a shuddering sigh before sinking down to the ground. Stan hears what Doc Ock has said through his headphones and then gives him a dirty look, "I'm not a hippy." He looks a lot more like a janitor than a hippy. Or a business ownder. He puts his hands on his hips and dashes in front of Otto, giving him a long look. Long for Stan, though, is about a second. He then says, "Why are you wearing shades? Isn't it sufficiently dark?" Otto jerks backwards, his frown tightening into a grimace, baring teeth; the extra arms underneath his coat, though they don't show themselves, shift underneath the tan cloth. It's difficult to say which he dislikes more -- being startled or being asked nosy questions. "That," he grates, "is none of your business." He attempts to move around Stan. Jaycee glances over to the next person Stan decides to annoy, interest drawing from her at those glasses. Then Nexus catches her attention - the mage strides over to her, looking down and offering the girl a hand up. "You need help?" she asks earnestly. Nexus seemed oblivious to most of what goes on around her. That is, until Jaycee approaches her. Marta looks up fearfully, then reaches to take the offered hand, almost clinging to it. "Help? It exists? I was losing hope. Sinking, sinking so deep." Stan appears right back in front of Otto with a 'pop' sound as he displaces all the air. It's not teleportation, but it's pretty close. "My business is none of your business, so how would you know what my business is? If you know what my business isn't, perhaps you know what my business it, then?" He rapidly shrugs. He's grinning behind that metal mouthpiece that he wears, but it's not really visible. The look that Otto gives Stan is full of murder, a desire to catch and grab and strangle. He holds back the violent impulse; he's been in the news far too much lately as it is, and dealing with the super-speedy types is always... problematic. Speaking quite deliberately -- refusing to lower himself to match the youth's verbal pace -- he says, "I know that /I/ am /not/ your business. Excuse me." Once again, he moves to go around and past Stan. Jaycee pulls Nexus up to her feet a little, "Hey... you okay? Are you lost?" the blond asks her, thinking that she's probably hopped up on drugs - but then again, who the hell knows. She wonders what people thought of her, wandering around asking for money... She and Nexus are standing next to a largish building of some sort, while Otto and Stan are... nearby, arguing with each other. Stan taps his foot against the ground rapidly as he waits for Otto's slow response to finish, stirring up dust as he waits. He thinks that it's very rude to make someone who is moving normal speed wait for the whole slomo time to elapse. He doesn't move in front of Otto again, but does say, "You're excused, Darky, but you might want to consider a lighter shade for nighttime. It's better for, y'know, visibility. Which is what eyes need to do what they do best." Nexus shakes her head. "No, no, no, not okay. Never okay. Always... Can't. Hold. Anymore." She takes in a sharp breath, then glances over toward Otto and Stan, her eyes widening as they focus upon the Doctor. As it happens, Otto can see just fine through the dark glasses (which, while not as advanced as his special goggles, are no ordinary pair of sunglasses). Neither does he dignify Stan's words with any reply more than another sneery grimace as he continues onward, his path taking him past Nexus and Jaycee. Wandering down the sidewalk and toward the rather mixed group is a very tall dragon-chic. The girl currently is munching on a funnel-cake and on occasion, feeding a little cat-sized dragon that is currently perched on her shoulder. The creature takes the piece in its forelimbs and begins to nibble, as it looks around, though remains on Leigh's shoulder like some kind of little stick-tight. And then the dragon girl catches Jaycee's attention, as she looks over for a moment, oblivious to the supervillian that walks behind her. Huh-buh-wha? "Can't hold? What can't you hold?" she asks, blinking several times. "Should we go to the hospital?" Now she's getting geniunely worried that she's holding the hand of someone who's in some serious trouble. She squeezes it gently, "Don't worry. It's gonna be okay. We'll figure this out." Stan just shrugs and then dashes, an extremely low pressure zone following after him, on over to the dragon girl, saying through his mouthpiece, "You do not look like you are an average human." He states is in such a way that almost demands explanation, but it's really just him pointing out the obvious. Weird looking people usually know super-people. Nexus continues to watch Otto suspiciously as he draws near, more focused upon his coat than his face. "I see everything. Always, everything. Too much, too fast, can't take it," she whimpers to Jaycee, then she draws in a sharp breath at Stan's words, looking over to see Da'lia. "Dragons! Demons. Black darkness so cold. Turn on the radio, it was a long winter in 1847." Otto catches the madwoman's words as he passes, and when he glances her way the already-tense scientist spots her attention on his coat. His mouth tightens as he moves past, more quickly, thanking his good fortune that Stan has found someone else to pester. Da'lia looks at Stan curiously. "Ummm. What?" She replies, having been engrossed in talking to her familiar a few short moments ago. "Ummm, anything I can help you with?" she finally asks, before she rubs the back of her neck. "And yah, not many dragon-girls roaming the streets these days." Jaycee glances, "Yes, she is?" and then confused by the '1847' comment. Turn on the radio? "I um... You wanna come with me?" she asks, furrowing her brow. She's unsure of what to do. Certainly, she can't just /leave/ this person out on the streets. She's liable to die, or get killed or... something. "I've got a... a place you could stay," she comments. Stan snaps from position to position around Da'lia, trying to figure out what exactly she is. "You are a very uncommon sighting. Do you mind if I take a picture of you and me together for my scrapbook?" He has a lot of hobbies to keep him occupied. Apparently taking pictures of himself next to stuff he considers weird is one of them. Nexus pulls away from Jaycee as she mentions a place to stay. "I... I can't. Not safe," she says, looking around frantically, then she reaches up to clutch her head. "What... is happening to me?!" The woman takes a couple steps back, trying to take in a few deep breaths while she closes her eyes tightly. Otto hesitates, glancing back again at Nexus, his frown turning worried. She could be mad, this barefoot woman. She could also be about to explode in a firestorm of destructive force. Either way, it seems wise to put distance between himself and Nexus and thus he does so, tugging down the brim of his hat as he walks on. No Good Samaritan /there/. Da'lia blinks curiously, then Pheiden climbs into Leigh's backpack. Leigh then looks around "Well I don't care, but right now I have somewhere I need to be." She replies and shrugs "Next time we meet, allright?" She then turns and wanders into the crowd, the dragon-girl mumbling something to her self as she walks and well somehow dissapears into the crowd as well. Those that follow the girls' movements closely might see a brief shimmering, and a 5'10" girl with predominantly black hair with red tips go wandering down the sidewalk, with the head of a tiny dragon just peeking out of her backpack. Jaycee lets go of Nexus, taking a step back as she watches the woman... who is no doubt apparently crazy. And yet... there seems to be nthing she can do at all. "Doesn't anybody CARE?" she accuses whoever may be around her, namely throwing a glance to Otto. Stan already has his camera out before Da'lia gives him a response. Oh, poo, he thinks as she decides that next time will be better. How many next times are there when it comes to dragon girls. He snaps on over to Jaycee and Nexus, though, and emits from his mouthpiece, "I would care if I knew what was going on. She seems ill and off her rocker. A hospital would be the best place for someone like her. Possibly with beds that have good restraints." "Restraints," repeats Nexus in a colder voice, lifting her head to look over at Stan with a more focused gaze. "No one will dare to restrain me. Leave me for the dogs. I am not to be left helpless." She starts backing away even further, and then to the side as she hits the wall, eyes narrowed. This is New York City, and lack of caring (except where one's own skin is concerned) is, alas, in great abundance. In this, Otto Octavius is not much different than the rest of the crowd. He doesn't even look 'round.