Dinner Catchup

December 05, 2015:

Trying to alleviate Berto's worries, a dinner is organised

New York

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions:

Plot:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

Brins concerned a little about 'Berto. Alright, maybe a lot. Warm Twin has been through a lot lately and it's time to try and get him to focus on something else… so she's put out a call to their friends - Dinner at Churrascaria Plataforma.

Dressing herself up, shunning the normal jeans and t-shirt look, Brins told 'Berto to be ready and has picked him up from the Penthouse. Arrving at the restaurant and getting out of the car, the mousy mutant (who might not look so mousy tonight) fixes him with a look "No thinking about Reignfire tonight. You look great and we're going to kick back with some friends, ok?" and she guides their steps to the restaurant.

They'll soon be inside and seated …


And The Destroyer of Homes is already inside. He wasn't in his feline guise, however, because that would have been conspicuous.

He also hadn't been at the entrance when Berto and Brin arrived- he'd been in the Gents', so he waited for a few more minutes after the couple had entered before the Salonero told him that his party was already in the dining area.

Keith took exception to that. HE was the party.

"Well, hello hello there!" the redhead grins as he approaches the table, "Long time no see, strangers."


And really, how else would Brinley have managed to wrangle a reservation to that swanky a restaurant on such a short notice? Easy. She's got connections. And to prove it, the reason for their having this table tonight approaches from where she'd stepped away to take a phone call. "Brinley. Mr. DaCosta. Keith. So glad you could all make it. We have one more person joining us tonight." Partisan is back in town, after all, and they haven't yet picked back up on their monthly cook for each other routine.


Roberto might be a little bit skinny from his time in exile, but he still has a closet full of truly excellent 'night out' suits. When he hops into Brin's car, he's wearing a light gray suit that contrasts beautifully against his skin tone, a deep violet shirt, and a glossy white tie. It inverts the usual color relationship of a suit, which makes him stand out — but Roberto da Costa has never shied away from a bit of extra attention. "You know you don't have to offer me a ride," he tells Brinley on their way over. "I'm pretty rich, it turns out."

When they arrive, he greets Vorpal with a grand one-armed hug. "I see. It's to be a sort of reunion. I'm up for this," he says, straightening his tie and teasing his fellow mutant. "I may be a social mess since I got back, but I do look fly as hell. That's nine tenths of the battle. How are the Titans?" He shifts his attention to Vorpal, being a bit more social. Partisan, he hasn't recognized quite yet. Call it a consequence of his upper-crust upbringing.


Normally Part doesn't do mixed company social gatherings, but well she can only be busy saving the world or in the middle of a gunfight so many times. So we find her outside, leaning her bike over onto it's stand before rising out of the saddle with a sigh. She pauses to get a cigarette lit the moment she rolls her helmet off, before heading towards the entrance and loitering stylishly. Just yaknow, don't ask about the cyrillic on her T-shirt. Once she's got one burnt, in she goes with a roll of the shoulders. Peering about the place, before she makes a B-line towards the table. "Hey Kiddos, you know it's past my bedtime at the old folks home but well I heard the world would end if I didn't drop by and say hello."Brin gets a wave, Pepper a shoulder nudge. "Oh goodness, new faces look at me getting all distracted. My apologies, I'm Charlotte Hardy. Brinley and Pep are good friends of mine."She looks different, again of course. Well and thats a new name, same old schtick though.


"I know 'Berto." Brin eyes Warm Twin with a small laugh. She's just fairly used to organising things and this was her idea after all. "Hello Keith, nice to see you again." Brin has a passing acquaintance with the Titans due to X-Reds connections there. Pepper though gets a hug and she looks over as Partisan arrives.

"Hello Charlotte, this is Roberto DaCosta. Berto, this is Charlotte." beat "Thank you, Pepper for arranging the reservation on such short notice."

As the party is seated, servers appear and start to take the drink orders. Brin, this time lets Berto order … she's here to be social as well …


"Nice to see you too, guys. Hello, Pepper… and lady I don't know," that was to Partisan, obviously. Keith's fine with meeting new people. "The Titans… right now we're at a sort of lull in membership. We just can't seem to keep Robin from going back to Gotham, I blame Batman's posessiveness, and Bunker's not around right now. It's getting rather lonesome. Hard to get new recruits these days, all the young heroes are playing World of Warcraft and League of Legends." Keith smirks and orders a water- because it is a bad idea for the cheshire cat to drink alcohol.


Roberto, frankly, hasn't figured out what to say to Pepper Potts. Some kids grow up admiring Nickelodeon personalities and cartoon superheroes; Roberto grew up admiring futebol stars and corporate movers and shakers. As a consequence, Pepper is the sort of person he collected trading cards of in elementary school. (Figuratively. There's no actual trading card set including her.)

(…Yet.)

Inasmuch as the Brazilian scion can ever be starstruck, he is now. He distracts himself in two ways: by shaking Charlotte's hand and favoring her with his most winning smile, and by explaining to a patient waiter exactly how to make a proper capirinha. It's not a common request on New York's aristocratic circuit, but it's worth getting right nonetheless.

He looks at Vorpal for a moment, then leans in, turning his head to one side. "You really, really don't want to hear about my issues with Red Team membership. They'll make a lull in new recruits look like a walk in the park, I assure you," he says.


Pepper Potts smiles a hello to Charlotte, not yet sure if a hug is okay with the Partisan, then offers another set of introducations. "Keith, this is Charlotte, an old friend of mine. Charlotte, this is Keith Anderson." As they're seated and the server arrives, she offers Brin a smile. "I've been wanting to try this place, so it worked out for us both." And she requests a 'brazilian' beverage, some fruit juice sort of concoction from the menu.


"Charlotte, my friends call me the Partisan if we're all going to talk shop though."Shifting gears to order, well a cocktail. "Aguardiente with a slice of cucumber, otherwise neat if you please and lets call it a double eh?" Settling in casually before slipping her backpack down to rest beside her chair. "The CCU isn't exactly a font of new recruits either these days, I blame schools really. Back in my day, you give a young man a rifle and tell him to fight for his freedom and he did so without hesitation. Nowadays, it's always somone elses problem."Nudging Pepper gently and offering a grin, if only to smooth over the lingering awkwardness. "You know everyone would rather just argue on the internet, because that clearly is what solves the world's problems these days. Lots of young faces been getting into the war down in M-town though, which is good. Time some of these kids start growing up."


Brin listens as Berto explains how to make the capirinha and nods "I'll have one of those too, please." 'Berto might need to organise the car home, it seems. Nudging 'Berto as he mentions his membership troubles "It's just formalities now, 'Berto…"

"Maybe they're getting burned out." Brin offers to the conversation "With the Purifiers now targetting individuals and putting the challenge out to the major heroing groups … it's understandable really." she murmurs as she looks at Charlotte with a smile.

If anyone is paying attention, Peppers bag rustles and shakes a little, at the same time something scampers across the table and disappears into a tea cup. Keith might feel something with his magic ….


"Madonna," Roberto says, raising an eyebrow in Partisan's direction moments after her speech about the youts. "You talk like a baby boomer. I assume you blame selfies and the sexting?" There's a teasing tone to his voice, but it's light: he doesn't seem invested in any sort of argument on that point.

His focus is much more on his drink: he accepts his caipirinha, one-handed, from the waiter, and takes a sip to test its potency and taste. Giving a quick nod of approval, he has the audacity to pass it toward Pepper. "If you want to try a Brazilian drink…" he suggests to her, trailing off before suggesting that her fruity, flavored martini is well shy of authenticity. "Think of it as an Old Fashioned made with a sweet vodka instead of whiskey." This description is, of course, utterly useless, as are most cocktail descriptions: you simply have to try the drink for yourself to understand what he's getting at.

Any shenanigans with small animals in Pepper's bag are ignored. Growing up among Native Valkyries and sweet-natured alien death robots gave Roberto an overabundance of tact where people's quirkier personality traits are concerned.


"Yeah, but we haven't been dealing with the Purifiers," Keith adds. To Berto, he says "We should get together and talk. Y'know. When we can tallk shop. Maybe we can figure out some ideas… or get drunk. But not both. Drunk ideas are the worst.""

Keith looks at Partisan for a second, parsing what she's saying…

~She sounds like my grandfather used to when talking about-~
~She can't be older than…~
~Okay, so she's choosing to talk like my grandfather?~
~Maybe its the next step of Hipsterdom?~

Keith gives Partisan an appraising look, especially her clothes…
~Yah, I don't think so.~

"It's actually Keith Logan," Keith says. Actually, it's Keith O'Neil, but he does so enjoy confusing people sometimes, "And no blaming the sexting. I personally blame Madonna, you are completely right, Roberto. She should've never done 'Evita.'"

He has only been drinking water and alcohol hasn't touched his lips tonight.


Pepper Potts sees the odd martini-like drink arrive and politely and apologetically asks the server for something non-alcoholic. She'd thought that drink was only juice! And then 'Berto is offering her a taste of his drink. "I, uh… thanks but I think I'll pass tonight." She offers him the drink back, completely unaware of any rustling going on in her purse, or of a sugar packet from the container on the table disappearing under the edge of a plate.


"No, it's the whole 'everyone gets a trophy' thing. Kids don't have a work ethic like we used to."Part looks, like she should have been carded for that drink. A little on the pale side of white, short bleach blonde hair. "You kids need to leave the purifiers be, I'm handling them. Thats a legitimate insurgency, capes go down that road and you're only giving them legitimacy. Red gave M-town to me, and getting yourselves involved is only going to get more folks hurt."Her delivery is tilted with no small amount of, well casual indifference. You could call that almost haughty air, well catty you know. "Boomer hm, well sweetheart I'm a fair bit older than I look so have some patience and let an old woman rant hm?"Snagging her Aguardiente as it's delivered, before giving it a pull and a pleasant little sigh. "I'll have to bring some proper Rakia next time we all meet, not quite the same when a stranger is mixing the drinks you know?"


"Don't be ridiculous, Vorpal," Roberto says with an admirably straight face. "Drunk ideas are the best. I only pass along ideas to my team that I came up with three sheets to the wind." He sits back in his seat for a moment, then laughs. "I love the idioms for 'drunk' in English. They make drunkenness sound like a romantic adventure."

He's deferential enough to Pepper that he simply accepts his drink back, asking her nothing about her plans for the night or why she has turned down a very pleasant path to inebriation. As for her seeming preference for sobriety? Well… his treatment of her as a role model only goes so far.

When Partisan more or less confirms her agelessness, he lifts a finger. "Called it," he says with a gentle laugh. Her comment about the Red Team 'giving' her M-Town, however, draws more concern. The Brazilian gives Brinley a skeptical look, then raises his eyebrows as he addresses Charlotte directly. "Last I checked," he ventures, "M-Town was no one's to give."


There's giggling coming from under the edge of Peppers plate and a teacup rattles as it starts to teeter on the saucer.

Brin shakes her head to 'Berto … "We asked for help, a few months ago." Which had been the cause for some interesting discussions "Charlotte, you've been away and the situation is changing. We should talk." She's trying to shut down that discussion now. "Charlotte has some interesting … experience that we thought would be useful."

"Drunk ideas are not the best ideas, 'Berto." Brin rolls her eyes, she's the one that has to make sense of them later … document and process and all that. "But they are certainly, interesting."

"Pepper, will you order another drink." she asks casting an apologetic look to Keith - the name mix up had been entirely her fault.

The rustling in Peppers bag gets louder and a brownie pops out to sit on her shoulder, just as the server approaches with the first round of food.


"It does provide some great puns. Like 'what's so bad about being drunk? Ask a glass of water,'" Vorpal adds to Berto's comment. When Partisan speaks, he simply listens until she mentions how old she is and Berto corroborates.

"So wait, Charlotte's a vampire?" the redhead peers at her over his glass, "… wait, that's not right, vampires can't drink alcohol." Or at least, he thinks they can't, "If you're as old as you say you are, Charlotte, you must have a better plastic surgeon than Joan Rivers."


Pepper Potts sis already ordered a different beverage and seems completely unsurprised by Charlotte's hinting at her actual age. Something Pepper's already aware of, perhaps? Either way, her attention is drawn to the teacup in front of her teetering. She reaches to still it, starting to look slightly concerned.


"No, I'm not a vampire. Those guys are push overs anyway, they just have great PR. Honestly most of the supernatural stuff in the first world war was way worse, lots of crazy magic and bad science. Humans are far more dangerous in open warfare though, vampires like a lot of supernatural kids tend to presume their special snowflake powers to the exclusion of technology at hand. Humans are much more adaptable, theres no fixed attack pattern or ideology of conflict you can just assume is in place."A pause as Part tucks away more of her own booze, setting down an empty glass. "Your average cape can take a Vampire without breaking a sweat as long as they have the right amount of aggression."Slumping back comfortably in her chair as he gaze drifts towards Brin, but she seems to have let the topic drop for now. "Vampires, are just emo chumps. They're punks, all of them. Sure bullets don't kill them, but fire sure does. Grenade will end that fight pretty quick, nevermind UV floodlights."


"'Interesting,' 'good' — really, what's the difference?" Roberto asks. His voice is so earnest that he has to be joking. "Honestly, I think most important decisions should be made while drunk. It's why I have open bars at all of the DCI board meetings." This, at least, Brin is sure to know isn't true. There are open bars for the receptions after DCI board meetings. During would just be ridiculous.

"Yeah, she's not a vampire," Roberto says with some certainty. "The vampires I've met are pretty distinct, and she doesn't have any of the signs." He shrugs. "Probably just some weird Cold War longevity project. They've always assumed we would want their input forever — it's not just a recent idea they've had."


"Of course, 'Berto. Without those decisions, people like me would become bored quickly." Brin shoots back to 'Berto. Yes, she's aware that the bars are open after the board meetings, but she'll play along for the night.

Food is delivered to the table as they talk… someone might have to explain what it is….

Brins not really aware just how old Charlotte is, but she knows enough to know she's not boasting. A grateful look is passed her way for letting the topic drop. "Not a Vampire, Keith… but judging by how you're tucking that alcohol away, Charlotte, you could be well preserved." It's an old, lame joke, really.


"Cold war longevity project, like -" fortunatey, no-one will know what Keith was about to say, because a loud buzzing interrupts him.

Fishing his phone out of his pocket, the redhead sighs and makes a face. "I… will try to get back. There's something I need to take care of." Not too far away from here, thankfully, but this was probably going to take a bit. "Enjoy the food in my name, I'll try to get back but if I don't- don't worry. Berto? We'll do lunch. Or booze." The redhead stands up and waves at everyone before making a beeline for the entrance. He just knows that by the time he's done, his only meal is going to be some cold leftovers from two days ago back at the castle.


"Hah, cold war? Not likely."Part offers a wry little grin as she holds up a finger, no not that one. "Strike one, I had a ticket with the OSI back the day young man. I'm old, and absolutely well preserved even if most of isn't far from leaded petrol."Hoisting her glass, to have it replaced in short order. May have something to do with the 20 she wrapped around it, who knows. "They'd built cemetaries for the business I was in back in the first and second cold wars, From China to France. There used to be a lot of us actually, few thousand years ago we were just all over. Now I'm the last one, well last one still doing what we were meant to do."Pausing to hazard another sip of her drink. "Unfortunate, but it's a sign of the times. Unfortunately, it isn't up to me how many of us there are. It's the man upstairs, or the one downstairs. I never could decide, really."


Pepper Potts is still frowning at that spontaneously jittery teacup when her phone chirps from inside her bag. Still somehow completely unaware of the brownie on her shoulder, she pulls her phone out of her bag and looks at it. "Well, looks like I have to go too. It's a good thing, though, Charlotte, I promise. It's about alpha testing the new armors that we're developing." Yes, for Partisan as well as for others.

Moving to stand, she smiles to Brin and Berto apologetically. "I promise, we'll get together again soon. Be safe, and enjoy the steak." And with that, she's shouldering her bag to leave.


Roberto looks disappointed that so many people have to leave, but at this hour, it's to be expected: business and superheroic crises tend to hit right around the same time. Vorpal probably just has to walk his boyfriend.

"OSI?" 'Berto is bad with acronyms at the best of times, and this one is achingly before his time and far outside his sphere of knowledge. "Certo, fine — you're a relic of the hundred years' war," he teases Partisan. "Point is, we're spoiled rotten and sure to lead to the ruination of the world, just like every generation before us, according to the one before them." He waggles one hand, sitting back in his chair. "We'll make it, somehow. We're annoying like that — as a species, I mean."


"Office of Strategic Services, Operational Studies Institute. Sort've like the CIA's SAD, the DIA's OCA or whatever alphabet agency you want to call these days. Field work, back in the day. Every generation is not worse,but boomers are terrible and the most recent one is garbage. They're all special little snowflakes, it's disgusting. You wanna change the world, you grab a rifle and start voting from the roof tops. These kids are all about nonviolence and whatever, jesus christ. Human beings are mean fucking animals, cruelty is necessary to change the world. It sucks, but what can you do?"Part shrugs, pushing her empty glass away. Apparently satisified for the moment. "Peace sells, but who's buying right?"


Looking up as Pepper starts to leave and Keith does too, Brin offers a smile to both of them. "It was good to have you both here." she adds with a wave. "We'll get together soon, Pepper. See you later, Keith."

Sitting back and sipping her drink, her own phone buzzes - an X-Red alert tone sounds - Berto might recognise it. "We're needed, 'Berto. I'm sorry to cut this short." She's already texting Magik for a 'pick up'. There will be stepping disks opening round the corner of the building in about 5 minutes "You coming?"

With a nod to Charlotte, she pushes her chair back "Sorry to eat and run but duty calls.".


"Bem, I suppose I can't really say no," Roberto answers Brinley. Honestly, it's a good idea for him to have some action in the field before he goes up against his recent tormentors in AIM, and they both know it. "I'll have Simon get my armor ready." He already has his phone out and is tapping out a message to his assistant.

Once he finishes sending that message, he stands and offers Partisan his hand. "Sinto muito — in all sincerity. I would love to stay and challenge your dreary worldview, but I'm needed to punch something, or possibly lift a heavy object." He offers a helpless shrug. "It's not much of a skill set, but it's mine. I'll pick up the tab, of course — enjoy yourself."


Partisan shakes firmly in return, before offering a nod. Switching over to a flawless Medellin spanish, it's like a totally different voice. Softer, more refined "Good luck, my friend." With that she eases back into her chair and checks her watch. Easing back into English "You kids have fun, I'm going to go find some scumbags to put in the ground I guess. Have a lovely evening."

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