It's Joe

March 02, 2016:

Joe comes to Melody's apartment and finds Dr. Kenway there. Words are shared. (Emits by Rant)

Kenway's Brownstone

Characters

NPCs: Arthur Kenway

Mentions: Melody Kenway, Bruce Banner

Plot:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

Joe shows up at Melody's place much different than last he did. He got Banner to write out the address for him, during the measly time he let the scrawny bastard out. Hey, sometimes even Joe had to take a nap. Banner had been angry at first, but now almost seemed relieved to be pushed back from being the dominant personality with Joe's emergence. Joe's a jerk, by many accounts, and certainly causes trouble, but he's not the walking time bomb his savage green counterpart is.

Joe's actually wearing a nice suit, having intimidated a tailor into sewing one up for him, blue and grey pinstripe, with a nice purple tie. He debated a hat, but went without, settling on just a pair of aviator sunglasses. His dark hair is slicked back as he knocks on the door, figuring if this chick is so big on Banner's mental radar, he'd best oughtta make sure she's okay and smooth any ruffled feathers, lest she start gettin' cute ideas about trying to get rid of him.

Joe had no intention of going anywhere.

Melody obviously wasn't there. Even though her brownstone was in tip top shape for the moment, she wasn't there. Arthur was pecking away at Melody's laptop once he heard the knock at the door, his suit coat discarded upon the couch, shirt unbuttoned about half a ways, his expensive pants nearly wrinkled from sitting in place all too long as he gives a glance towards the door, to the laptop, to the door again with a sigh.

He closes the laptop then stands from the desk, pacing his way towards the door, cigarette fished from his shirt pocket as he lights up to take an inhale to answer..

The door was tugged open.. and.. this was the last person he expected. Well, it's possibly he didn't expect this person because he didn't know him at all.

"Can I help you?"

Joe Fixit towers fairly large, although not as large as his green companion. Skin the color of granite and, frankly, a face to match. Suit or no suit, he was big enough to block out the sun most place and wide as your average family sedan. He has a toothpick in his teeth which he draws out with big, meaty sausage finger. "Dat makes two of us, bucko. Yer Melody's pops, right? Dude what plays 'pin the science on the kid' with her immune system an' shit, right?

He casually reaches out and pushes the man back into the house, ducking and stepping past him to get inside. "My name's Joe Fixit. My…lesser third, Banner, has been friends with her for a while. Don't worry, they ain't fuckin'. Brucey don't got much interest in that. Damn shame, she's got a nice set o' cans. Mel around or you hear plantin' bugs in her house while she's gone? Maybe turnin' her microwave into a test tube or somethin'?"

The last thing Arthur wanted to do was meet someones tie. He had to take a step back to take in the towering mass of grey man that has his right eye twitching in a tick. "Excuse me?" Yes, he was Melody's father. Yes, he actually did play pin the science on the kid but it was for the good of manki—

"Ooof.."

The shove was nearly more than he could handle; Arthur was a stocky fellow himself but the push actually hurt! His hand presses against his chest, rubbing ever so slightly as he casts a glare towards the Hulk.. part tres' as he forces himself into the apartment. Alright. So, this is Banner's third half. Interesting.

The door was soon closed as he closes his eyes to take a breather. Drawing in and out, hand feeling up the wood to touch along the locks to lock everything in place with a click. Granted, it was clear that Melody gets her emotional ineptitude from being housed as she was, but that anger.. that was a Kenway anger. And not her lovely mothers side of it all.

"I'm actually looking for her. She's been gone for two weeks. Three now." He takes a step closer, practically eyeballing the large man, this was interesting. He's never been -this- close before. "Missing, actually. Untracable. And if she's untracable that means her nanites are completely down and she's exposed."

Joe Fixit raises an eyebrow and loosens his tie a bit with a thick finger, "Well dat, doc, sounds like a bit of a predicament. I admit, I don't know diddly squadoosh about her nanites an' stuff, but I'm under the impression dey keep her breathing and all that," he says. He looks around a bit, "Place looks pretty clean, no worse'n when I last saw 'er couple weeks back…if she got snagged, weren't from here. She'd put up a lot more fight,' he says.

"I probably know a few leads worth checkin' out," he says. "I'll give 'em a poke an' maybe get back to ya. Provided ya remember to keep the bass outta your voice unless you wanna lose the marbles what bangs the drum, capisce?"

Arthur takes an inhale of his cigarette which was nearly forgotten, his eyes cutting up towards the ceiling as he runs through various and possible scenarios of what could have happened to his daughter. He's made no enemies as of yet, he wasn't some schmoe who would go out of his way to jump into a fight and rescue a damsel so much as publish anything he's done in the scientific world to the papers. Alright, not much. How else did he gain the few little military contracts (overseas) that he has?

His jaw tenses for the moment, brows raising, nearly missing the ass end of the threat as he finally blows smoke out of his nose. "I see, Dr. Banner." Is all he states for now, drawing away from the main sitting room and into the kitchen, which was still within viewing. Melody hated walls.

"I'm sure you have my number, correct, Bruce?" He wasn't even addressing Joe anymore. He was trying to agitate him into bringing out Dr. Banner.

Which, of course, is a rather backwards course of action. Trying to get Bruce should involve soothing, rationality, possibly an extensive discussion of differential calculus. All being called 'Banner' does is make Joe grit his teeth.

He turns around, "Maybe you didn't lissen ta me when I came in. My name's Joe. Banner's a different guy. Whatever you think o' our situation, a man asked you to call him by the name he wants, polite thing to do is to call 'em that…Artie,"he says. Quicker than you'd expect for a man of his size, he reaches out and grabs a handful of Arthur's shirt, tie and all, lifting him about a foot of the ground as he takes off his sunglasses with the other hand, tucking them in his pocket.

"Now, I'm pretty sure I can get in touch witcha, sure. But my hazy memory o' Brucey boy seein' you play dotin' daddy, maybe I won't bother givin' you a call. See, I bet you did some research an', if you did, you know we got a special place in alllllllllllll our hearts for abusive fathers," he says. His fist squeezes tighter, making the tie choke just a bit. "So maybe you oughtta be careful o' how you talk t'me, huh, chief?"

"But then that would sugge—.." Before any further words draw from his mouth, he's lifted from the ground, his hands drawn up in a defenseless stance, fingers dangling the cigarette at an angle in which would burn his own hand from how he's held. His feet weren't even on the ground! It's a true testament to the Hulk even if he assumes that he's at half capacity. All brawn and probably no brains. But Joe could probably see it, the way the darkness of his iris' light up and begin to collect information. He was obviously recording. She was her father's daughter, after all.

"Hey.. hey.. Joe.. my mistake!" He laughs uneasily, forced naturally, but still uneasily. "Everything's cool. Like, really cool. Aces', is what the kids say now a days, right? We're aces! No more funny talk!"

Joe Fixit smirks, "Aces, huh?" he says, "That's what they're gonna be callin' you, you talk shit to me again, old son. 'cause you ain't gonna have but one," he says. He drops Arthur and brushes him aside, moving to walk back thorugh the door. He knows who's gonna know where Melody is - motherfucking one-eyed motherfuckin' asshole.

That conversation was long, long overdue.

"One what, ya ask?" he says, glancing over his shoulder. "O' everything. Whatever you got comes in pairs. I'll take fitty percent. That's for bad attitude…or, if something bad did happen to Mel an' I find out you or yours had anything t'do wit' it. Either way, I'll be seein' ya, chin."

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 License