2014-07-18 Razzi Infestation
This scene is rated Everybody
Warning: N/A
Players: Black Cat, Phantasm, Surge, Wade Shaw (NPCed)
GMed by Who GMed?
Title: Razzi Infestation

This part of Manhattan is home to several businesses and attractions, being home to Stark Tower and Grand Central Station. It is one of the busier sections with frequent traffic jams and impatient pedestrians. From here, one can enter the subway's major terminal, or head off to Grammercy Park, the Upper East Side or back to Manhattan's lower areas.

Midtown Manhattan on a Thursday evening. While plenty of the day traffic subsides as workers return to their homes, a lot of which requires the ferry to manage, there is a small influx of the bargain day tourists. It seems a bit tourist heavy around the city with a number of them finding their way in Midtown. There's even a cluster of them hanging around the Bax-

Oh wait. Those aren't tourists.

It's much worse than that.


Mixed results so far in the whole 'let's have a look around town' itinerary. The first outing on his own, he found someone getting mugged. The second time, he stumbled upon some black market tradings and a pyromaniac. Maybe the third time will be the charm?

Insofar, it's been a nice enough outing. The teen makes his way along the sidewalk, enjoying the diminishing population and the gradual quiet it brings. But one can't have a gathering of paparazzi without drawing some attention. In no time at all, an inquisitive Drake is attempting to peer between obstructive heads to get a look at what the big deal is about…

As Drake cranes his head, what he gets a glimpse of is a rather tired and weary looking doorman glancing to the razzi that are camped out as he passes through the crowd.

A cab pulls up outside of the building. Getting a taste for reporting blood, the cluster of moral questioned photogs ready their cameras.

Drake sees… a doorman! Shock and awe! Actually, that hardly seems impressive at all. So naturally, he has to assume the person (or people?) this group has gathered around for hasn't yet arrived.

Up comes a taxi. He can't quite help but feel a bit of anticipation build. He quickly tries to come up with a list of celebrities he knows lives in New York. That includes… Tony Stark? And.. uh..


Actually, Drake's drawing a blank. His youth's been filled with a rather narrow scope when it comes to world news and popular media. So that cab gets an extra-scrutinizing look.

As the razzi turn to focus upon the taxi, a figure behind Drake brushes by him, heading down the alleyway. Wearing sweats, and a hoodie with the hood pulled over, it's just another one of your run of the mill folks, heading towards another entrance.

As the doorman opens the cab door, a short blonde haired man, known to Greysong fans as Wade Shaw, starts to get out slowly, cuing for the flood of flashing camera lights.

"Mr. Shaw! Has Nick told you what his status is?"

"What about his father? Have you met him?"

"Are either of them a mutant?"

"Are you a mutant?!"

Drake feels a bump and spies a man in a hoodie move by, and it's enough to completely rob his attention. Drake's been a player of the game for years now, and it's become instinctive to always check valuables after being bumped or moving through crowded areas. His hands dip for the wallet and cellphone hidden away in his cargos, and should they be in place, all will be well. After all, that's a part of his past he's trying to put behind him.

But if everything settles, the frequent use of the word 'mutant' will certainly draw his attention. This celebrity isn't someone he recognizes - what they peddle in is probably not his scene, or he just hasn't paid attention to the people behind the product. But still, he lingers. Matters of mutant interest and all.

The flash of bulbs continues with their onslaught as a few of the nosier members of the group take notice of the second person in the car, presuming it to be Wade's friend. "NICK! Nick! If you're not a mutant, then why won't you answer the question?! Are you one or not?!" They try to get a better glimpse but the slow moving Wade is not helping them get better positioning.

It appears that the man wasn't trying to take anything as Drake's belongings are still where he left them. As the Razzi burst out in their questions, in particular the one that's asking Wade his own genetic status, the hooded figure's head turns, glancing back Drake's way, revealing the face of Nick Drago.

Pushing on the plush seat of the cab, Felicia moves over the hump in the middle of the car towards the door. "I have no idea what you all are talking about but I'm certainly not a mutant." Her green eyes snapping up to the nearest reporter before she blushes and leans back over to grab her back. Rolling to sit back down she holds her hand out towards Wade asking for his help out of the car. "What's the deal with all these people?"

Drake has to take a moment to just… blink. They're really hammering this mutant thing, aren't they? It's kind of brutal. And it definitely makes him self-conscious about his own abnormality. If any of these people caught a glimpse of what he could do and traced his residence to the mansion…

The man in the hood catches his eye again. Alas, he doesn't recognize him either. Drake can only assume he's here for the same reason as himself - a lookie-loo, as it were.

Those vibrant emerald eyes flit back to the cab, and "Felicity" makes an appearance. Someone he recognizes! But what's she doing in /this/ fiasco? He didn't take her for someone famous when they first met. Unfortunately, while he has a plethora of questions based on that alone, Drake has no illusions about his ability to approach her at the moment. Furthermore, the last thing he needs is paparazzi following him back to Xavier's estate.

His wallflower routine has to continue, alas. But it's with a particular tilt of his head, attempting to catch the woman's eye and give her a questioning look.

Although likely not to get sold to any papers, one lucky photographer got a wonderful shot of Felicia's… blessings.

Wade reaches a hand over to assist Felicia as her hand motion draws his attention to her while the doorman waits nearby. "They're kind of a crossbreed. Part human, part vulture." He looks to the paparazzo that asked whether he's a mutant, "I'm going to take a page from his book and say, 'Think what you want.'" He gives a bit of a grin. "Oh I may or may not open a laundromat in two days but I'm not going to tell you which one. Think what you want with that as well." He smiles, raising his voice, "Any more stupid questions?!"

Nick lingers in the alley. Not because he's distracted but because the door he's waiting to be opened hasn't been opened yet. Looks like SOMEONE missed their assignment. So instead he's watching the scene unfold.

Looking around, over and past the 'razzi, Felicia looks down towards the hooded figure and Drake. Recognizing a face in the crowd and with lights flashing in her eyes, the thief gives a wink towards the familiar face. "Wade, spurring them on didn't seem to work for him, why would it work for you?" She asks, smiling towards her newest escort.

The wink merits a bemused smile from the teen, followed by an appraising look. Just who /is/ this chick? Not to mention the guy with her. Bodyguard? Boyfriend? That look is cast to Wade, attempting to scrutinize him a little further.

Finally, a thought occurs to him. Why here?

Drake about-faces and cranes his neck back to peer up at the Baxter Building, attempting to place it or sort out some significance behind it. Unfortunately, he's drawing another blank.

In short, everything insofar is just confusing. But hey, Drake's totally mastering this 'wallflower' thing.

"Because I'm not as much of a celebrity." Wade replies under his breath, before smiling, setting a hand behind Felicia's back while he steps forward wading their way through the crowd.

The doorman closes the cab door before following after the two.

Clunk! With the side door opened, Nick heads to the entrance. FINALLY!

Felicia's wink does not go un-noticed as one of the masses decides to be an individual and turn around, focusing on the smiling Drake. Busted. "Are you one of their friends?"

"You're enough of one to warrant questioning." Felicia says, a white brow raised towards the artist. The grin grows into a toothy smile at the hand behind her back, she stutters in her walk to slow down just enough to make sure his hand is touching her, she does like to give people a show. While he's still a stranger to her, she does trust him as a friend of Mike's. Her head turns as the doorman bolts past and she makes a playful gesture with her free hand for him to open the next door in a rush. "I'm only teasing you Terry." She smiles some how even bigger.

Drake bristles when a voice comes his direction, and he promptly whirls around. While it looks like the celebs are heading inside, Drake has inadvertantly brought some attention onto himself! At least it's just the one guy, right? Back in California, this might even be fun.

But now? He has no idea how to handle it, and that tension is very clear on his face. Classic deer in headlights.

"Ah, err, I just know Felicity, that's all! Kind of! Passingly! Met'er once! No big!," he stammers.

"Get in here!" Felicia says pointing her hand towards Drake. "You're with me. Stop looking some simple by stander." The woman with a small bandaid on her forehead urges the one mutant to come inside.

Wade's walk pauses briefly as Felicia addresses Drake, cracking a bit of a smile as the proverbial 'Jessie's Girl' comes to the aid of some bystander getting harassed by a papparazzo. The doorman holds the door open for the trio, glancing over to the mutant Felicia called out to. Oh well.

Drake's gaze snaps to the white-haired femme, and he doesn't even question it. He simply bolts forward to join them. "Whatever was I thinking~?," he drawls.

And the moment they're in the building, he glances back to the door, and finally to Wade. His words are directed to Felicia, however, allowing his more natural smile to come through. "Someone's got some 'splainin' to do," he notes coyly.

Upon the four making it safely into the building and the doorman returning to his post, guarding the entrance into the building, Wade looks over towards Drake and then Felicia, "Friend of yours?"

Having gotten in through a back entrance, Mike steps out of a back hallway, Hoodie now draped in his arm, exposing a plain black tee.

"Someone does have splainin' to do." Felicia mimics Drake as she looks over towards Mike, "Are you that afraid of reporters that you throw me to the wolves?" She says stepping towards the musician.

Over her shoulder she addresses Wade, "He is. Drake, Wade. Wade, Drake." Felicia turns to Mike and taps a finger above her brow to the band-aid and whispers, "He's the one who helped me with the mugging. He thinks I'm Felicity." Followed by one more wink.

Drake follows Felicia with his eyes, marking the arrival of the previously-hoodied dude. Ah, he sees what they did there. Things make a little more sense now. This must be the "Nick" they were calling for. But those eyes return to Wade with a pleasant, if unassuming smile. "Acquaintance," he clarifies. "Met'er when someone got a little handsy. Just helped'er home." To repeat himself from outside, "No big."

"More afraid FOR them." Mike replies, casting a small smile to the trio, "If this is how they act because I refused to give one of them an interview, imagine how they'd have reacted if I punched one of them after they repeated the question." He pauses, looking over to Drake. "Hey. Thanks for helping her out." He offers over a hand for a shake. "Sorry if you got caught up in that stuff." He looks over to the other two, "And thanks for running distraction."

Wade gives a bit of a smirk, "We've dealt with worse." He shakes his head, "Well, I'm going to head on up, see if anyone's tagged our door again."

"Whatever you say deary." Felicia says with a wink towards Mike and she quickly leans in to steal a quick kiss on his cheek.

When Mike talks to Drake she can't help but turn to look at the young man, "He really did help me. I didn't know what to do." She says, keeping her act up as though she were still a tourist.

Then she says to Wade, "Oh, I did slip some litter between the door crack, but it's for Mike, not you!"

Drake glances back to Mike and Felicia, then the extended hand. It's taken and given a quick, friendly pump. "It's cool, but I don't think I should be gettin' too many pats on the head. If I did the right thing, she wouldn't have that shiner to begin with," he remarks, nodding towards that bandaid. But it seems this fella is wanting to bail, and he's not about to stop him. The kiss on the cheek is noted, but not reacted to.

Back to Wade, Drake asks, "No offense, but what's with the paparazzi, anyway? Who are you guys?"

Wade gives a mischevious look as Felicia mentions something being left for Mike between the door crack. "Oh don't worry, I'll make sure he gets it later." The smile is unnerving, and promises for… something. Before further clarification to his intent can brought about, he's already heading to the elevator

Mike lets go of Drake's hand, gesturing towards the departing Wade. "Wade Shaw, musician." He points to himself, "The 'razzis know me as Nick Drago, musician and acting." He gestures towards Felicia, "And I believe you two have met."

"We have. Glad to run into you again so soon, but it's getting late, I'm going to follow Wade up. You two can have your boy talk if you want, I'm pooped." Says Felicia, the thief's had a long day, spending some hard earned cash and striking business deals.

"Right. Got'cha," nods Drake. Paparazzi makes more sense now. Felicia's involvement, though? Not even close. But she gets a nod and wave. "Night," he calls after them.

And the moment they've departed, Drake's attention returns to Mike. "So the girl, Felicity - she in your group? Fellow actress? Not tryin' to be nosy, I just had no idea she was someone famous when I first met'er."

Right, he can keep these people straight. See?

"Right. Got'cha," nods Drake. Paparazzi makes more sense now. Felicia's involvement, though? Not even close. But she gets a nod and wave. "Night," he calls after them.

Mike watches Felica's departure. Smiling a little. His head turns to look back to Drake as he's asked a question. "Hmm?" He shakes his head, "Oh, no. Not an actress. She's a bit of a tourist. But, not in the bad sense."

Drake gives a quiet little nod with an accompanying 'ah'. "Tough girl, that." His eyes narrow on the older male, curiousity behind those emeralds. "So, you'n her…?," he trails, the unfinished question terribly obvious.

"Dating?" Mike finishes, he nods. "Yeah. One of them" he nods in the direction of the door where the razzi are likely still camped out on the other side, "Interrupted one of them, which is probably what led to all of this."

A modest chuckle escapes the teen. "You famous people got it made in some ways," he muses, but not in a derrogatory or spiteful way. His tone has slipped back into its naturally relaxed level. A glance is cast back to the door, "In other ways? Maybe not so much. Droppin' that 'M' word an aaawful lot out there…"

Mike sighs, "Yeah, people can be pretty damn nosey. Got asked if I was one, told her to think what she wants, so, she wrote what she thought in a tabloid article." He gestures towards the door, "Voila."

"Sensational," concludes Drake sarcastically. "Why would they think you're a mutant, anyway? Do a show with light effects a little too good? Someone jealous that you're all popular, so you've gotta be using mutant mind-control?" A coquettish grins takes his face, fingers dipping into his pockets. Oh-so-unassuming. Underneath all that, though, he's authentically curious. If this guy happens to be a mutant, there's a chance he could actually help.

The question causes for Mike to crack a small smile, Well, at least I know you don't read tabloids or watched the news involving Club Nightshade." He slides a hand into his pocket, "I may have, removed The Hulk from a club when he was trying to get into a fight with Loki. I think one of her concerns was that I lived through this, which is ridiculous, they're both pretty decent guys."

"Hey, man, I'm pretty much brand new to town. I haven't had enough time to catch up on anything!," Drake freely admits. "Kind've a lot to take in so quick, but I get the feeling /you're/ more overwhelmed than I am." An eyebrow lifts at the mention of the Hulk and Loki. "Don't know what a Loki is, but Hulk?" Hulk, he's heard of. "You.. what, frog-walked the Hulk out by his comically tiny pants? I'd be callin' mutant, too, bro."

"Oh hell no." Mike replies, "By another means. And once Loki wasn't around him, he was pretty easy to talk down." Mike pauses, "Yeah, I see why they would but, there are other ways to explain what happend. And I really don't feel like explaining to a reporter who is being a bitch or setting a precedent where people automatically expect an answer to that question when they ask it."

"Fair enough, fair enough," Drake nods. "Isn't that how reporters roll, though?" Granted, he has no idea. His history of talking to reporters doesn't really exist anyhow. "So… Loki was the hotbutton for the the giant green punch-machine?" Beat. "What's a Loki? Or who? And why would someone try to push Hulk's buttons?"

Mike considers Drake, "For a guy who has a name with a Norse background to it…" He sighs, "Ok, you have Thor. Who does the Thunder and lightning bit. And then you got Loki, his brother, who is more of the chaos and mischief thing. Their equivalent of a teenager."

Drake tilts his head slightly to the side, oblivious. When the name 'Thor' is dropped, there's some recognition that registers behind those eyes. And as details are given, he gives the man a frown. A thumb just towards himself in indication, "Seventeen." He doubts insult was intended, but it sounded like it might've been toeing the line there. Or he might be being over-sensitive. That's a possibility.

"Anyway, a guy named after the Norse god of mischief had a deathwish in a club, and you get blamed for calmin' it down? Seems raw."

"Actual god." Mike corrects. Not at all apologizing for the teenager comment. "Annnd it's a case of damned if I do and damned if I don't. The way I see it, Yes, No, no comment. All of those they're going to turn into a way of saying I am one. And the hell with them, I'm not playing their game. Let them think what they want."

It's just as well. Drake doesn't seem intent on bringing it up again anyway. Instead, he focuses on the dilemma at hand. "It's been said that sometimes the only way to win is to not play the game. Just… be careful about that. I've only been hearing about the MRD and stuff, and it already seems pretty scary. Don't let it get too outt'a control, y'know?'

"The MRD?" Mike looks at Drake curiously, "What?"

"Mutant… something, I dunno, like a division of the police," Drake offers with a helpless shrug. "But apparently they focus on mutants. S'what I heard. And you don't want'em knocking on your door. Just the vibe I'm gettin' from it - a hit to the career could be the least of the problems they bring."

The musician is quiet for a minute, "Consider myself warned. But don't worry about it. I've likely already survived worse than whatever those guys can dish out."

Drake folds his arms loosely over his chest, head turning aside slightly to regard the entertainer with a hint of skepticism. "Now you've got /me/ wondering." After a beat, he lets that grin tug the corner of his lips again. "Then again, there was the Hulk thing. So I've got no grounds to doubt ya."

"Or to believe me." Mike answers, "On one hand, rockstar. Entirely possible. But on the other hand. Actor. I could be just, acting." He smirks.

Drake mirrors the smirk. "I guess I could ask the reporters out there, if you think they'll give me more truthful answers," he chides.

You say, "God, you're more likely to get better information from googling it." Mike replies with a sigh, "Some of the people out there are still trying to pair me off with Wade for Christssake.""

"See, that's why I like goin' to the source." He glances over his shoulder towards the door again, then back to Mike. "But the last thing you want is a stranger burrying you in more questions, yeah?" The teen breathes a simple sigh, and Drake's demeanor relaxes fully. Shoulders roll back, with the exception of one spared for a shrug. "I'll let'cha chill in peace while I find a backdoor outt'a here. Just, keep safe, yeah? And try not to let'em drag you down. You're datin' probably the hottest girl in the city." A wry smile touches his lips. "Priorities."

Mike points from where he came. "Down the hallway, to the right. Glowy sign marked 'exit'. Hard to miss. Try not to tip the Ratz off about that." He smiles as Drake mentions Felicia, "Life does have a way of balancing itself out it seems." He gives the mutnt another nod, "Nice to meet you Drake."

Drake tilts to the side to look past Mike in the direction indicated before straightening his posture again. "Sounds good. Should be fine." With a bright smile, he taps a pair of fingers to his brow before flicking them aside in boyish salute. "Back at'cha, and I'll see ya around!"

With that, he sidesteps and starts towards the back exit. Indeed, clearly marked, and he'll be making his exit with slow caution.


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