A Moment to Myself ((Open))

[Martin Findlay-Lewis]

"Don't I know you from somewhere?"

The curious tone of the girl behind the counter made Martin Findlay-Lewis look up at her pretty green eyes for the first time since arriving in the café. He noticed that the dim light of recognition in her gaze wasn't about to erupt into a full-blown 'oh, you're THAT guy' moment, and so shook his head with a shrug as he removed his wallet from inside his jacket.

"I've just got one of those faces. How much?"

"Oh, seven eighty-five."

He already had the exact change in his palm before she could speak.

Taking his tray with the best smile he could manage, Martin headed back through the door to the outdoor tables, inhaling the strong scent from his black coffee as he went. There were no shortage of more upmarket restaurants in this part of Manhattan, places where someone as rich and influential as he would be expected to dine...which was largely why he chose to differ and headed for smaller, cozier establishments like this one. Plus, he reflected as he slipped down into a free seat, it was easier to keep an ear to the ground and figure out what was important in the day-to-day lives of the average suburbanite, those less well-off than himself, if he actively sought to live around them. And he needed to know that. In fact, he would argue that he needed to know everything.

The weather was beautiful today, and the chatter around him was aimless and pleasant. It was hard to imagine that, scarcely a week ago, the world had been menaced by a massive asteroid on a collision course - an asteroid loaded with deadly alien symbiotes, at that. He had thought of stepping in and deploying his own forces against it, but the Avengers had responded to the situation quickly, and he was interested to see how they would handle it. As it turned out, they did exceptionally well. Martin had also heard that the team had made some interesting findings from the asteroid, something which mattered much more to him; he just needed to concoct an excuse to get access to the Stark Tower labs...

Speaking of Stark, he thought dryly as he pulled his tablet computer out from his pocket - a Chrysalis proprietary design, it telescoped from a 1.5 inch square to a 7x5 inch rectangle when active - and tapped on the online news feed. The first headline caught his eye: "Stark Industries announce renewed push towards Zero Point Mass engines." He smiled. Chrysalis had debuted their first working prototype ZPM-powered jet the past week. It worked, but it wasn't cost-effective, something Martin had known before he decided to show it off...but, Stark Industries had behaved exactly as he'd expected, and with them also developing the same tech, the manufacturing costs would be forced down through both businesses competing with each other. Martin didn't care if it cost his company a fortune, or even if the boys at Stark actually beat him to the punch with a more effective design getting to market first. Just so long as it got there. The ZPM was an important part of his designs for the future, and -

He was snapped out of his thoughts by a distant explosion, and the sound of shrill alarms. Folding his tablet away, Martin leaned forwards to peer around the people that had stood up in shock - and even from what was a good five blocks away, he could see the thick plume of smoke rising into the sky, the flashing blue-and-red lights of police cars, and the repeated cracks of lightning that accompanied the dry barks of gunfire. A bank heist, he thought. How quaint. He shot a glance to his watch and counted the seconds. Four...five...six...

The sonic boom from overhead brought a smile to his face, and he looked up again just in time to see a black-and-silver feminine torpedo with a shock of blonde hair zip overhead, making a beeline for the crime scene. He was too far away to see what happened after the woman dived into the fray, save for a black SUV being thrown 30 feet into the air before getting torn in half, but the gunfire stopped very quickly. Some of the other patrons took out their camera phones as they talked very excitedly...

"Did you see that?"

"How fast was she going?"

"She totally just threw that car on a guy's head!"

A moment later, the female blur snapped back into the sky and flew back the way she came. Martin waved as she passed, though he had no idea if she saw him or not. She would later, in any case.

Picking up his coffee, Martin leaned back in his chair and took a sip, letting the hot liquid slosh around his gums before swallowing. He didn't have any specific plans for the rest of the day...yet...but he had the feeling it wasn't going to remain peaceful for much longer.

(TBC by anyone who feels like it)


((OOC Note: The flying girl is not one of our existing characters; I'll be knocking together a fresh account and profile for her soon))

[Bruiser]

<sub>What had started out to be a dull and uneventful day had continued on to be an extremely dull and uneventful day. Nothing exciting had happened, no news that just needed to escape gossipy mouths had turned up – and Klara telling her that she was going on a vacation didn’t count, certainly didn’t count when she herself would not be having a vacation any time soon. It was depressing. Nothing good had happened that made Molly Hayes grin excitedly and make some sort of stupid remark. Then again, nothing bad had happened either, and so it was rather peaceful for the time being. In a way, that was the good thing of the day she supposed. Many people would tell her that days like this were what the good guys were striving for. Peaceful times with no fights. If that day ever happened a lot of people would be out of a job and wouldn’t be allowed to complain about it.

So there were no fights. Yippee. But Molly was someone of action, and though she was rarely ever short of words she was inclined to get out and do something. Anything. Sitting around in the X-Mansion waiting for people to turn up had bored her. The rest of her little group of runaways were off out and about, trying to enjoy the day instead of waiting around like her. If only she could take their example. But she had promised that she’d help out during the week as a teacher (of sorts) at the school for young mutants. Tell them all about herself or whatever. Like that would go down well. Molly had never been a fan of school, and at twenty she still considered school to be a sort of prison for her.

But the times had been mixed up, and she wasn’t needed in a class until late on in the day, and even then it wasn’t likely she’d have to do anything. Just observe, see what happened. Danger Room session.

Walking along the street, the young woman shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans. Sure, sure… no one she pulled up to and talked to on the streets would tell her that working with the Avengers and current X-Meny teams was a boring thing. But sometimes a gal needed a bit of excitement to get her day rolling.


Yawning, Molly took a hand out of her pockets and adjusted the woollen hat on her head, before shoving the hand quickly back inside the jean pocket. She may have grown taller, but there was no doubt she was just as immature and childish at times than she was when she had first ran away from a group of friends. Which really made her surprised as to why she had been invited to be the guest speaker at the school when any of her other team mates would have been a much better choice. Thinking about it briefly, she decided that it was likely one of the You—no, no Avengers (she had to stop thinking of them as the ‘Young Avengers’ now) who had done that. Namely either Kate or Tommy, who still seemed to think it was fun to prank Molly every now and again. She’d get whoever sent her to teach, to school back at some point.

Turning around the corner and getting out into a main street, Molly began to weave her way between people. Hands still in her pockets, her fingers tightened around some loose change. Enough to get a hot drink? Hopefully enough. The Runaway glanced at some cafes as she passed, before spotting one that looked nice enough. Smiling, she went inside and placed her order. A simple coffee – she only had enough for that. So Molly may be helping out the Avengers and X-Men, but she still didn’t have much money. Once a poor runaway always a poor runaway? Maybe. But she was happy. And didn’t everyone say that counted for something? Silly people did anyways. Resting one arm on the counter, her fingers slowly tapped out a random beat, eyes absently trailing around the place. Soon her attention was diverted outside, where cries and booms could be heard.

Her coffee not yet done and far from her mind, she rushed outside to find out just what exactly was going on. Molly’s inner child became excited at the thought of being able to release some pent up energy, but was quickly dampened as she spotted a super-heroine friend pass by her in the sky. She always got there first. Pfft. Well, next time there was a bank robbery, Molly was making sure that she and Chase got there first. Smiling, she rolled her eyes as the figure passed by in the sky, before heading back into the café. Just as she headed inside her eyes stopped for a moment sitting in one of the cafes outside tables. He had waved and that had caught her eye. But just as a spark of recognition came to her, and she tried to work out who it was, her coffee was finished.

Heading inside, Molly handed over the money, and took the lovely warm coffee. ”Thanks,” she said, brightly at the person serving before heading outside and looking for a good table.</sub>

[Martin Findlay-Lewis]

Nothing else on Martin's PDA seemed to be of immediate concern. All's well with the world, at least for the next ten minutes or so. Maybe he should just head back to the office, much though that place bored him. Sighing, he made to get up - then his gaze drifted over to the café's entrance, and he stopped himself short as a slightly familiar face appeared. It was a girl, wearing a woollen hat that distracted from her face somewhat, a face that was good-looking in a youthful, cherubic sort of way. He racked his brains - this definitely wasn't one of the Avengers, or the primary X-Men, especially since no-one else seemed to be recognising her...GeNext? X-Force? It must be something obscure...

Then, the name came to him - Bruiser, that was it, she was around during the Civil War. Things must have been quiet for her since then.

Martin belatedly realised he'd been staring at her whilst standing in an awkward half-crouch for several seconds, and it was beginning to look as silly and suspicious as it was uncomfortable. Reasoning that he had no schedule to keep - and trying to hurry off now might give an inquisitive person cause for alarm - he raised one hand and called across to her. "Ah, excuse me. Miss?" He didn't want to call her codename out in a public place, but he still couldn't quite recall her actual name...

[Bruiser]

<sub>The cool air swept over her as she stepped outside once more. By this point the confusion and excitement over the robbery had died down – at least it had where she was situated at any rate. Taking a sip of her coffee, and feeling the liquid almost burn her throat, her eyes scanned the outside tables. Most were full, and the two empty ones had no chairs next to them. A little bit unfortunate.

As she scanned quickly, she felt someone staring at her. It was strange, but not altogether frightening. Turning her head, she quickly spotted the source of the staring eyes. And surprise, surprise, it was the familiar to some extent face of the man she had spotted on her way in. Molly slid her eyes away, taking another drink of her coffee. She was certain he meant her no harm – at least not at the moment. And if he was staring at her then there was a chance he recognised her as well.

About to pass it off as just a coincidence, the man called out to her. Turning back to face him, she made the effort not to allow her curiosity and slight suspicion to show on her face. A tough job for her. Walking around the other tables, she stopped at the man’s facing him with the table between them. A relaxed grin found it’s way onto her face, ”Hi. I uh… Do I know you?” Way to not be blunt, Mol. It wasn't as if there was much need to be subtle here, though. She either knew him or she didn't. Perhaps if she had some sort of name from him, that would ring a bell - alarm or otherwise - inside her. Or not. It depended. Perhaps what she should have done was give her own name? Ugh. Social niceties.</sub>

[Martin Findlay-Lewis]

Standing straight, Martin pulled a second chair over from another table and waited with a pleasant expression. As the girl got closer, he could see the doubt in her eyes; clearly she was having as much trouble placing him as he was with her. At least she didn't look offended or unfriendly.

The first query out of her mouth, delivered with a light, impish lilt, confirmed his suspicions. He nodded gently and extended one hand. "Martin, Martin Findlay-Lewis. I run a company called Chrysalis, and..." He wondered how best to explain his often-perplexing ties to the superhuman social world, before deciding humour was the best option. "...and I suppose you could say I'm a out-of-the-closet superhero stalker? Not the scary type, though, I promise."

Martin reckoned it would be better not to throw the name 'Bruiser' in after that...joke. She's going to freak out, isn't she?

[Bruiser]

<sub>Molly took a quick look over the man as he said his name, a smile still present on her face. Martin Findlay-Lewis... A slight bell was ringing there. Should she know it? Probably... But at times memory wasn't her best aspect, even Molly could admit that. There was still no vibe of 'Danger! Get the hell out!' so Molly sat down in the empty chair, placing her coffee on the table carefully.

Chrysalis, okay now that too was ringing a bell. Ugh... She needed to read more files and listen in at meetings. But... That just wasn't how she was used to doing things. She reached over the table to shake his hand, "Molly. Would be me." She never usually said her second name. Never had to really. Hadn't in a long time needed to say it.

"Superhero stalker?" The young woman laughed brightly. Now that was great. Weird, slightly strange but... Funny all the same. She took a sip of her coffee, looking over Martin once more. She had a feeling something was being left out but at the same time... She shook herself lightly and brushed the thought away. "Alrighty then... And you're choosing to talk to me." Not a question, just a though running through her mind. Though Molly helped out a lot on various superhero teams, like the X-Men and Avengers, she was still just a big part of the Runaways. And they weren't exactly heroes, nor did they have too many followers. So... It was strange that someone had picked her out - unless it was just luck, and he didn't really mean anything by saying that he watched the heroes. But that kind of coincidence just didn't happen. Ever. "Sounds interesting.</sub>

[Martin Findlay-Lewis]

Belying her codename, Molly's touch was gentle on the handshake. And she laughed, much to Martin's relief - though there was still a certain wariness in her eyes as she prodded him with "Sounds interesting." A bright one, I see, he mused, wondering if that spark of suspicion was caused by some long-ago betrayal or something she'd been trained to do. More likely the former; she didn't look, sound or act like a soldier.

Whatever the case, it made him think carefully about his next words. Truth be told, he had called her over just to pass the time...partly. On the other hand, he needed - well, not 'needed', more 'wanted' - to canvas a wide range of the superhuman spectrum as part of his future projects. He had concerns about them, about why they did what they did and the effect it had on the minds of the greater populace, and he'd desperately like to be wrong, at least on some counts. With Molly, he had a good feeling, though he couldn't quite explain why.

Now, how best to put that into words without sounding like the second coming of Doctor Doom? "Well, it's interesting with a little asterisk beside it, leading to a footnote saying 'but a bit easy'. There just don't seem to be that many mysteries surrounding our heroes anymore; I mean, we've seen so many new faces running around in costume these past couple of years, but even if we don't know their names, we know they're the son or daughter of whoever wore the same outfit before, yes?" Martin decided it'd be best to leave out the fact that he did actually know all their names, via one source or another. "But you...I've seen your face before, but only in historical mentions from a good many years ago. And, might I add, you don't look a day older. So I'm curious. How could someone like yourself drop off the radar so completely?"

[Bruiser]

The young woman took a sip of her coffee, glancing about the street for a second before then turning back to Martin in front of her. He was strange. There was something odd about him and she still could not place her finger down on exactly what the odd quality was. A familiarity? Something like that? Something about what he was saying?

Molly knew that the man could tell who she was, calling her over... Though perhaps it was just a way to pass the time, it was also because he knew who she was. Which surprised her. No one ever knew who she was. She was background stuff, when it came down to it. She listened carefully as he went into a bit more detail - and listening carefully wasn't her thing. But she did.

Nodding, she took in what he said. Now all the heroes were the children of somebody or other. It was odd, but natural too. New people, new ways of doing things. It was nice but also weird that so many heroes had had children that were now running about saving people. The family business.

She let out a soft chuckle. There it was. Who she was had come up. Yeah, dropping off the radar was a good way to describe it. "Oh, well see, me and my friends built a rocket and took off around the universe for a while. Exciting times." Molly smiled, relaxed - but still a teeny bit wary, just in case, but not enough so that affected her in any way as she took another drink. "Okay, so while that is possible for some people, it isn't what I did." She shook her head. "I've been hiding and running since I was a little kid. Even littler than I am now, which some people find hard to believe. Practice makes pefect and all that jazz, and after all the practice I'm an expert at hiding now." She grinned.

Leaning back in her seat she then shrugged, "That and I never have been a big player."