Green Sharks Prefer Frosted Flakes

March 20, 2018:

Jennifer Walters makes a house call and picks up a whole new type of clientele.

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions:

Plot:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

Scott is more than happy to have been able to escape the constant attentions of the DEO's Men in Black, being held up extra in the hospital for no other reasonable excuse beyond, 'It's for your own safety' was irritating. The X-Men's team lead had figured by now with their recent work they have established a better rapport than treating him like a moron. Their transparency in this particular instance rather insulting.

The bandage that was around his forehead and over one eye gone now, ruby lenses back in place, his busted up features bruised, stitches on his lip still visible, the only serious looking harm he might have looked to have gone through is the braced arm and wraps over one collarbone. Superficial wounds if you ask him. The tenderness of a dislocated and relocated limb with some torn ligaments minor damage compared to what he could have went through.

Casual wear not even a thing, stubborn as usual Scott managed to get up and fully dress himself, a button up shirt, slacks and dress shoes, navys, blacks and silvers are an often default color choice for him.

*

It was not hard to miss the reports, both open and closd off, of the fight in Mutat Town. It is Mutant Town afterall, and as The World Turns, that is an epicentre right now.

An email is opened, files uploaded, images, a medical report of one Scott Summers, video feed of the fight, still-shots and pans as well as zooms…

*"/Rebekuh/…Move all appointments tomorrow and fit them where they go within the next week and by level of necessity."*

The desk communicator is spoken into and a robotic voice chimes back of the female, the pucks across the Firm lighting green in tandem.

*/Message received, letting the secretary know and filtering through appointments now for suggestions, Miss Walters./*

Early morning the Challenger SRT8 purrs along the drive to Xavier's, dark purple and black paint reflective and evident in the angle of the sun. Shutting off the engine at the circle before Xavier's the door swings open, heels hitting the pavement, followed by feet that insert into them and loft an already tall height from the vehicle, no wonder she was not wearing them while driving.

Pencil skirt is straightened, glasses pulled from the rest upon her head to rest on the bridge of her nose, pushed up by incex finger to rest where there is comfort. Briefcase in hand she makes for the door of Xavier's.

*

Scott's at that very same door opening as the chime goes off, it's not every day he finds himself staring upwards at a woman, though his particular gift makes colors a trick for him to discern often he is able to guess somewhere in a generalized area of what he is seeing.

"Miss Walters, I hadn't expected you to show up at our doorstep." A step aside and he motions in, Scott's a tall man but the Gamma infused woman at the X-Men's doorstep is a titan, she has almost a head over him.

"Scott Summers, I've seen your ads." He adds as if explaining how he knows her name, "Followed your work some, you're somewhat of a celebrity for us mutants." A polite smile, he patiently waits, avoiding the chilly outdoors.

*

"Us /Extranormals/, you mean?" A lower of chin, just enough to meet Scott eye to… visor. but he can see behind her own faux perscription lenses the light roll of vibrant green eyes and the quirk of her darker green lips. Everyone gets a 'precious' title now-a-days, but Jen has to be PC, afterall.

Stepping inside and past him she does not bother to even take a look around the foyer of the manse, the accordion side of her briefcase is thumbed open and a file-folder is held out to Scott non-chalantly. His copy of the files she has gathered. It's about as thick as Jane Eyre in original leather-bound script.

Heavy. Like justice.

"You should have expected me after the incident in Mutant Town that left you hospitalized and detained unlawfully beyond your release by the DEO. Treated a criminal after beaten by extremists in a Mutant Neutral Zone. If you really followed my work you would not be surprised, Mister Summers." Although Jen speaks matter of factly, clipped, and business-like, it is not hard to miss the lingering smile…

Until she falls her gaze to his splinted limb.

"I have questions."

*

"You're correct. Uh us… extranormals." Scott's lips twist up at the word, "Not a fan of that term or what it intones. More labels to reroute the status quo in to favorable line of sight."

She-Hulk gets a wide enough birth to move in freely. Scott's hand falling back to his side after closing the door behind her.

"I really never expected you or anyone else to show up and to be honest I'm not really interested in any sort of legal retaliation against ether the DEO or the Brotherhood either, Miss Walters. The DEO is attempting to do it's job and the Brotherhood, well, thats a problem of another variety. Not one I can exactly hold to a court of law off this alone. Not without names or witnesses."
"I may have answers to your questions though. To which, if I can answer them I will." A wave towards the adjacent doorway, "Would you like a drink? Just made some fresh coffee."

*

"I am a Gamma Radiated Human Mutate by classification, Mister Summers. I am not extra-anything save another drink away from being my cousin." Jen, that height altered by heels touching almost on Seven feet, skin exposed from hem-lines of her 'power-suit' of attorney levels, is a grassy hue. There is nothing human about the woman's appearance safe a silhouette and hat she wears, her speech…

Extranormal right?? Beg to differ…
Why she's here..

"I am not here for retaliation, Mister Summers. But now you ar aware of a counter suit, should you be brought before the Court." A small quirk of her lips, that underlying meaning made blatant if he picked up what she put down. "Oh, I am used to dealing with the tight-lipped witnesses, but I need direction." A pause and She-Hulk, Jennifer Walters, the 'Extranormal' Power Suit Attorney for Affairs of the 'Extra' turns while pushing her glasses up on the bridge of her nose and smiles.

"Coffee would be great, Mister Summers."

*

Scott cultivates a renewed smile, "I'm hoping that doesn't end up the situation. I doubt it will." No further comments given towards the mutate or extranormal topic at least at the moment.

"This wasn't meant to be a publicized event, the reality of it is, I know who attacked me and why. I am in part responsible. This incident doesn't hit courts, this isn't one of those fights meant for any sort of publicity. So I really cannot give you that direction to begin a battle, it would be pointless."

Don't get me wrong, Miss Walters, I mean, I am flattered, I'm actually almost not sure what to say in this matter because I've never had anyone show up wanting to tackle anything of this sort for us. That alone speaks quite a bit about your conviction but it's just usually now how we operate here."

Scott touches Jenn's elbow lightly to direct her through the doorway, in to the cafeteria area crossing it to pull out a mug each and begin pouring.

"I can use your assistance though, somewhat unrelated. If you are wanting to help us but I am not going to take this as a fight to be dealt without side my own closed circle. It would be a waste of your time and ours in the long run. I'd rather not do that to you or anyone else." Her mug is extended over, "However, I do have another offer…"

"Maybe you would like to represent the school and the X-Men in regards to our legal affairs in the future? We could use someone of your particular status and profile to help us."

"It's is after all exactly what we're after here, what you do, who you are, what you symbolize." A big green 'normal' person getting by in a world thats massively confused about variety and unification.

*

Jen watches Scott as they turn towards the deeper rooms of the Mansion, the touch to her elbow aiding in directing her through, although unnecessary.

Once in the cafeteria the glasses lift from her nuclear green eyes, perched back upon her head like a 'band to keep her hair back from her face… Because with each and every step, Jen is ensuring no 'prying eyes' and releases an exhale that aligns with a demeanor more like the woman.

The briefcase is pitched aside on a table and left there perched just above the kick-off of those Prada-spiked heels, leaving her bare-foot across the tiled floor to accept the coffee from Scott.

"I do not think you understand, Scott. My offer is not just the representation for a legal stance in regards to justice and jurisdiction between affiliated "government" operatives. It is also that," A breath and Jen pauses as she sips the coffee, turning to prop posterior against an empty table, the legs slightly grinding in a /screech/ across the floor before weight equals leverage.

Jen listens and turns the mug in her grasp before she drains the contents and offers the empty mug back to Scott for more. "I know who you are, I know what you stand for, and I do not need to stress to. You of all people that I stand behind it. I am not one to bite off more than I can chew.." The large smile can be taken in soo many ways when arms fold across her chest in her lean.

"We symbolize the same thing, but in different ways. The DEO I will handle with care, this Brotherhood, on the other hand," Knuckles crack lightly in the grip across forearms. "I am but a humble attorney and they have no case with Jennifer Walters LL.M as it would possibly pose a conflict of my interests."

A slow nod has the falling trapping of bun descending along her neck and sweeping over her cheeks as the 'Shark' smile grows. "Then it seems we have mutual business gains, as this whole establishment built in secrecy and now open… Is what we need as a symbol. Retainer fee accepted."

But there was no money exchanged?
Nor asked for.

*

A slow blink behind glasses while Scott watches Jennifer, who, already green as far as he can tell makes a show of getting comfortable. A sip of coffee overtakes his actions as he curiously observes the transformation, the woman sort of just letting her hair down, kicking back and going the road of, 'sup'…

"This is you speaking frank to me, huh?" Scott politely teases her. An attempt to break that ice a step further.

"I understand. The DEO and I have a good working relationship at the moment, however, I'm honestly a little annoyed at the detaining of me but I'll get over that. I am sure it was some procedural exercise on their behalf."

"Don't worry Miss Walters, I will make sure you're paid for your services, we're not without the ability to do so."

Setting his mug down Scott offers a shake of his hand, "On behalf of Xavier's institute and my team, welcome aboard and I look forward to you representing us."

*

She-Hulk lets the flash of her own smile slowly step-down a notch as Scott speaks and her gaze finally wanders the cafeteria. Her focus on a 'juice box' left behind on a table, the slow blink drawing the smile to something more fond in portrayal.

Moving from her perch to the juicy-juice box, she picks it up and speaks as she moves to throw it away, pausing beside Scott, as his extended hand is taken in a hold before the shake.

Nothing but net!

The box is tossed into a trash can with an effortless flick of her wrist.

"I looked forward to this also, as you, the school… Represent enough and now I am in the place to properly 'Give Back'." Now Jen shakes his hand.

"I don't care about abilities, Scott." No more Mister Summers for him in this moment.

"First question. Who have you released statements to in the past year since the School has become Publicly announced?"

Frank? "I need names, affiliations and contact information. You also are not obligated to release student and faculty information to anyone but your representation." A splay of fingertips across her chest in a self-gesture.

"Full disclosure. Frankly? Let the DEO breathe sideways your way again…" Impending dramatic music!! "And next time you set yourself up from a fracture and over-extended ligaments at the hands of uncertified Physical Trainers… I need to know."

By the tone in She-Hulk's voice, she is ecstatic about this.

*

"You'll probably find yourself overwhelmed and regretting this decision soon enough." Scott jests, "For the time being though, uhm Jennifer, just, get acclimated, introduce yourself to the staff here while I see what sort of paperwork I need from the Professor." A fingertip slides inside of his sling, scratching.

"Honestly, I really would rather have some breakfast first, relax a bit and then maybe answer these questions. If you don't mind?"

"You're welcome to join me , I'm cool with the company but the serious stuff, that can all wait. "

"You like Cheerios or Frosted Flakes? Pick your poison."

*

"Frosted Flakes," Jen states as she moves to push out a chair at the table she had left her briefcase and heels at, slowly sinking down to the low-height of the position. Care taken casually, but she has had years to know better than to sink into a seat expecting it to hold her aloft!

No issue…
Exhale…

"Because 'They're Grreeeaattt!'."

Cheesy, showing her age as well, but she /scoo-tch-ches/ her chair in to the table and lets the business aspect slide after dropping her card with her e-mail, fax, address, etc. before his assumed seating position on opposing side of the table.

"Acclimation. Got it. After breakfast. No Wheaties?"

\The taste of cardboard, texture of straw, but flex your (gag) muscles for the Health benefits highlighted on your food Triangle!\

"Good, that stuff is for retirement homes, not here."

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