The City That Never Sleeps

[house-of-mystiq.livejournal.com]

A soft pop precedes the Exiles appearance.

They're on a busy streetcorner, standing at the side entrance of a massive steel and granite museum building. The Empire State Building dominates the skyline, but it's a skyline from another New York, out of another era.

The street is packed with Studebakers, Cadillacs, Crossleys, Fords - all with the windows down to let out the heat. On the sidewalk, women in knee to ankle length skirts and heels click-clack down the nearby subway entrance. The men all wear suits. Everyone over the age of 12 is wearing a hat.

"Poppa! Poppa! It's a traveling circus!" A little girl strains on the tether of her father's hand, pointing at them with her free arm. "I hope they have a monkey!"

"Hush." He covers his daughter's eyes, glaring at the naked blue teenager surrounded by what looks like a high wire act, some jugglers, and maybe a magician. Hard to tell without the plaquards. "We don't need those kind of shows around here, missy. The rest of you should be ashamed. If that's what it takes to sell your circus, then you must be darn poor performers."

He drags his daughter away, but the two of them are replaced by a large, curious crowd.

"Let's see ya juggle, mister!" Shouts a heckler

"Ooh! Ooh! Have they got bendy people? I love me some contortionists!"

"Nah! Nah! Itsa magic act! Right, right?" A guy's already holding out a bill, smiling eagerly. It's right at five o'clock, a great time for some cheap street theater before hopping on the subway home.

Comments

[house-of-mystiq.livejournal.com]

Mystique turns around, kneeling behind some of the men and pretends to rummage in the improvised jacket satchel full of her former interior contents. She still can't quite make that chest cavity work right.

Her arms move around distractingly and she appears to put on a sequined top and skirt to match the red of her hair.

She pops back up, does a flip forward in the air, grinning, and comes down doing the splits.

[marvel-citizens.livejournal.com]

The applause is kind of watery. This is New York. You've got to do better than that to keep an audience.

[uneasy-rider.livejournal.com]

And, by God, does she know how. The crowd hears a motor gun on Roxy's Harley, deafing everything. Using a nearby junker car, she and her baby leap over the blue lady on the ground, popping a wheelie on her way down and around.

This is knows. This she can do.

[spidey2099.livejournal.com]

Spider-Man looks over the crowd, for anyone familiar... they just keep going farther and farther into ancient history, and it doesn't get any less frustrating.

Idly tapping on the Tallus to try to get some information out of it.

Feeling like a complete idiot in a head-to-toe bodysuit.

[marvel-citizens.livejournal.com]

The Tallus whispers to him:

Two fatal loins, so proud, must not unite
Else drowned the world will be in spite.

[exiles-media.livejournal.com]

"Paper-paper-buy a paper!" calls out a young boy a few yards away. He is waving a thick newspaper above his head.

[tj-nocturne.livejournal.com]

It's TJ who gathers the dropped coins and goes to see about purchasing a paper. Let's see what this world has to offer.

[exiles-media.livejournal.com]

"Paper, ma'am?" The newsboy holds out a paper to her. "Two bits."

It's a copy of the Daily Bugle, and the year on the masthead is 2007.

[tj-nocturne.livejournal.com]

TJ guesses at just what that means, and holds out a palm with two quarters, a nickle and a penny for the boy to pick out of. "It's hard to handle coins with my hands like this," she says in apology. It's kind of true.

[exiles-media.livejournal.com]

The newsboy seems unfazed, nimbly plucking a quarter out of her hands and offering her the paper. He tugs on the brim of his cap. "Thanks." Turning away, he lifts another paper and resumes his cry: "Paper--paper--buy a paper!"

On the front page, near the masthead, is a black-bordered photo of a man with a camera slung around his neck. The caption reads, "346 days and still no arrest." The main headline trumpets a story inside regarding rumors of the governor having ties to organized crime in NYC.

[house-of-mystiq.livejournal.com]

Mystique shuffles behind Morph and Patriot, once more pretending to rummage in the leather jacket she's tied into a makeshift bag. With enough slight of hand, it appears that the red sequined getup is replaced by a respectable cotton blouse, skirt, heels, and, of course, hat.

She stays blue. Just because she can.

"Five o'clock, on the hour!" she shouts to the crowd. "A different streetcorner every day! Check us out on your way home from work, then bring the kids to our BIG show on the weekends!"

She waves at their audience, grinning.

[marvel-citizens.livejournal.com]

"You gonna have a fire eater?" shouts a grubby faced boy.

"Ooh! Ooh! You gotta high wire act?" asks a nearby girl.

"You don't got no clowns, do ya? I HATE clowns!"

The adults are already drifting back home, clearly content with their post-work diversion. The children linger a little longer, hoping to eke out one more bit of show for a proffered nickle or penny.

[house-of-mystiq.livejournal.com]

Mystique gives the kids a conspiratorial wink. She accepts thier small change then solemly borrows the barettes out of the girl's hair. She uses them to pin her skirt closed between her legs, then takes a deep breath and falls forward into a handstand. She crosses her ankles for the sake of modesty as she walks on her hands, weaving back and forth between the children, all without losing her hat.

[marvel-citizens.livejournal.com]

The little girl takes her barettes back, open mouthed with awe.

"Go ahead. Now YOU do it," says the boy next to her.

She sticks out her tongue then runs off towards the subway. The show's over. Time to go home and see if she can get more nickles from Poppa tonight. A different streetcorner every day, huh? She'll sure keep an eye out for them!

[house-of-mystiq.livejournal.com]

Mystique saunters over to the rest of the group. This place is refreshing. She likes it already.

"If a newspaper is a quarter and taxi rides start at fifty cents," she nods towards a passing yellow cab, "then I think we just earned enough to stay some place with plenty of hot water and no roaches."

A nostalgic look crosses her face. "I'd love to stay at the Algonquin (http://www.algonquinhotel.com/) - if that exists here. Or the Carlyle (http://www.thecarlyle.com/)." She sighs, then offers her change to the collective pot. "Do we have enough for a Holiday Inn?"

[rogue-starsr.livejournal.com]

Sarah is glad that Mystique and GR take to the showbiz bit so quickly, and TJ gets the paper. It gives her time to find a bench so she can collapse. Before it was exhaustion, this time its injury. One arm has a dislocated shoulder and something torn, definitely. The other has severe burns. She'll survive, even heal, but right now, moving is horribly painful. At least there's no sign of the Hulk here, and stopping a Romeo and Juliet pairing sounds like something for Morph or Mystique or something, not her... and this time, she's thankful.

"Uhm, Bucky... Spider... don't suppose either of you has enough idea, between experience and your 'friend' to figure out where we're at... and where I can get some new clothes, somewhere to crash, maybe an arm brace? I stick out like a handful of sore thumbs here... and I'm not going to do you much good like this. Besides, honestly, this sounds like a job for... someone a little more skilled with the intrigue thing."

[spidey2099.livejournal.com]

Miguel just nods. Tempted once again to tell them his name, just so they're not calling him 'Spider' all the time.

Later. There seems to be a lot of free-roaming mutants in this place, so chances are they have stranger names than that.

"Bucky, see what you can do about tending to her injuries, all right?" She likes the flag-waver better anyway, and she could use some familiar-style comforting.

"I'm going to see about getting us a place to stay."

With that, he goes marching off towards the swanky place up the street - the Hotel Wundagore. He's sick of all the stone-age accomodations and spartan rooms.

Time for a shockin' mattress.

[marvel-citizens.livejournal.com]

The Hotel Wundagore looks very posh. A small squad of uniformed doormen attend the front door, while bellhops scurry with luggage from curb to lobby, lobby to curb. The hotel's name is not only carved deeply into the lintel above the double door, but picked out in gold.

A number of the business-suited guests seem to be carrying briefcases that could hold laptops.

[spidey2099.livejournal.com]

A little talk with Lyla makes his suit about five times nicer (he hopes, as he's never really tested Lyla's fashion history files) as he walks in the door... and he even gets a nametag that gives him the name of Gabriel D'Angelo, along with the title of Assistant Chief Financial Officer and the face and blonde hair of his despised father Tyler Stone.

It's about time that bastard becomes remotely shockin' useful.

Striding up to the desk, he wears his best obnoxiously-superior scowl and just glares at the clerk.

"Straighten your collar. You look like you've just finished fornicating in the broom closet."

[exiles-2h.livejournal.com]

The woman at the front desk tugs at her jacket, smoothing the tailored line as she pulls her shoulders back. "Sir. How may I help you?" Her hands are poised over the keyboard of her terminal. The computer itself is in a burled-wood case, very subdued and elegant.

In a prominent place at the far end of the lobby hangs an oil painting of a silver-haired patriarch seated next to a younger silver-haired man whose features strongly resemble the patriarch's. A curlyhaired woman stands behind them both, with a blonde standing to her right. Perched on the patriarch's knees are two small boys.

[rogue-starsr.livejournal.com]

The mention of having a room is music to Sarah's ears. She's barely heard half the conversations going on, much less had anything to contribute. Spider-Man gets thanked thoroughly, if tiredly.
After that, she's quick to set the shield by the bed, and does her best, with or without help, to assess her left arm - its bad. Nothing she won't heal from,, with some time, but still bad. Its set with what supplies there are, and the other arm is more or less coated in whatever burn ointment can be managed - likewise, its not pretty. Her ribs get a wrap - something either cracked or broken, not as big a deal.

That done, she falls into the bed. The mission and the world can wait, or the others can deal with it. Still no sign of the Hulk, so she figures she can take it easy for a while.

[wwii-hero.livejournal.com]

Patriot sighs as he looks at Sarah's wounds and their own costumes. Yeah, he's gonna need Stuff to make this work.

He's always been good at finding stuff. Back when he was a kid, the whole camp knew he was the guy to go to if you needed smokes, or girly mags, or anything like that.

"I'll be back in a sec. We need clothes and cash... and some medical supplies to treat her hands."

He gathers the money and heads out. Odds are good they didn't make enough to get clothes for all of them, or for some decent medical supplies.

But Bucky Barnes has always been able to make pennies turn into gold.

[rogue-starsr.livejournal.com]

"Talk to Spider, his 'assistant' can help come up with the local currency. I also heal pretty quick - as long as everything is set right. With torn muscle though, its going to be a couple days before it'll move. If you get the chance though, an artist's bag or something to hide the shield in might not be a bad idea. I can play the part of a painter or something for cover... but until I'm healed a little, I should probably lie low anyway."

[house-of-mystiq.livejournal.com]

Raven puts a warm hand on her granddaugher's shoulder. She's proud of the girl.

"Can a doctor actually do anything for you, Sarah? You've taken a beating two worlds in a row. Mutants look pretty common here. If there's ever a place where the doctors won't flinch at your physiology, this is likely to be it."

[rogue-starsr.livejournal.com]

Sarah nods. "Sure, but we have no medical records here, any of the things a hospital would want. It'd cause problems, unless its someone who wouldn't ask questions or something. I know I have a couple broken ribs... at least a couple bad tears, and my shoulder isn't set right... and then the burns." Her dad taught her a good bit about this kind of assessment, and fighting sentinels with nowhere mutants and powered folk can go for medical care has only helped.

"I don't want to put the team at risk though... what I really need is to make sure everything is set right, and get it braced up... then a chance to rest. And if you can make or buy some industrial burn cream... that'd be good."