2017-01-09 A Mime is a Terrible Thing to Waste
This scene is rated Everybody
Warning: N/A
2017-01-09
Players: Sallow, Borgon, Phantasm
GMed by Who GMed?
Title: A Mime is a Terrible Thing To Waste

With an estimated population of 90,000 to 100,000 people, Manhattan's Chinatown is also one of the oldest ethnic Chinese enclaves outside of Asia. It is in Lower Manhattan, New York City, bordering the Lower East Side to its east, Little Italy to its north, Civic Center to its south, and Tribeca to its west.
Lots of tall apartment buildings, seven to ten stories high, stretch up off of the sidewalks and hosue all of the citizens that call this district home.
Canal St. is the center of shopping in Chinatown. With low-rent, open, store fronts that sell a massive amount of knock-off brand jewelry, perfume and clothing. This draws a huge amount of shoppers from all around the globe.
Joe's Shanghai, Congee Village, Peking Duck House, Nice Green Bo, are just a few of the cantanese eateries available within the Chinatown district with Wo-Hop City Inc. being the most famous open 24-hours a day.
Columbus Park is the only park in Chinatown. It is quite common to find locals relaxing here playing dominos, chinese chess or doing tai-chi.

"Ha!" does Robert Sallow, punching at an invisible opponent in front of him, just like everyone else in Master Cho Dan Yan's Kung-Fu class. "Very good, very good everyone. This is all for today, let's salute. I expect you next Sunday afternoon," Master Cho says. Everyone bows then break ranks in a chaotic ballet of white pajamas and colored belts. Robert walks to the back room, to get his bag from his locker. The locker is empty? "Who moved my stuff?" Robert asks. Then he spots a guy out the front window walking nonchalantly away, holding three duffel bags. "Get this man!" Robert shouts, starting for the door!

Borgon had been waiting outside the Dojo for Robert. As an unoffical room-mate, Sallow was pretty much his guide. He had been outside watching…. everyone. The way they talk and interact. From T.V to the streets of NYC, it all their to educate the half troll being. Infact he even watched the theif stroll on by him, not realizing the man with the dufflebags was a theif! He heard the cries and looked into the window of the dojo to see what is going on.

Not in the building but off to the alleyway beside, a portal opens, spitting out a figure that contrasts drastically with the light cast by the afternoon sun. Black hoodie with nothing for facial features save for the glow of the eyes and jagged teeth, the more humanoid form of Phantasm lands in the alley. The metahuman lies there for a moment staring up into the sky. "…Is it really that hard for him to ASK for the help before grabbing me for this shit?" He ponders aloud. Grumbling, he pushes himself up, glancing around the alley for potential looky lous before shifting to his more famous form, "I hate demons…"

Jogging, Robert crosses the Dojo's threshold. He spots Borgon, waiting for him by the bay window. "Borgon, this guy over there, he stole a bunch of duffel bags!" Rober says, pointing at the man with the duffel bag, who is waiting on the street corner. The man Robert is pointing at is dressed oddly, his shirt stripped horizontally in thin black and white, a french beret on his head, sporting white gloves and his face is painted white. "STOP, THIEF!" Robert shouts. The man in the beret is surprised at first. He turns to look at Robert, frees his right hand and make a gun with his pointer and thumb and fires it. No sound. All the sames, Robert's shoulder jerks a little and blood trickles out. "What the…" says Robert, in shock, looking at the wound.

Rubble. Rubble.

Borgon looks to Robert and then this mime looking person, confused before the word theif is mentioned. He is about to turn before he sees Robert look like he is getting shot. His turns slowly. Ever met an angry troll? Here a tip - never anger a troll. Borgon -sprints- towards the mime at the speed of a car intent on tackling the Mime down. Some folks are shoved aside, and those father away, quickly get out of the way. He even dart by the alley way Phantasm is in

As Mike switches back to huma form and the sounds of 'Stop Thief', the performer rolls his eyes, form shifting back to the Phantasm one, he glances out of the Alley to see where the commotion is. Taking a few running steps first, he leaps unnaturally towards the thieving Mime.

Robert applies pressure to his wound, cursing at his ruined Kung-fu suit. Undoing his orange belt to tie it around his arm will take him a few more seconds. The Mime drops the bags to the sidewalk and makes a comical 'oh!' face at incoming Borgon, the Asgardian troll, failing to spot Mike. The Mime seems to smooth the air in between him and Borgon or is he… patting at an invisible wall? The Mime is doing the proverbial Wall, shaping his kinetic powers into one, in hopes it will shield him from harm.

While Borgon is talling than… pretty much everyone here, most likely, the wall was none the less effective. After all, all he saw was a Mime making dumb faces, which made him angrier. He face was a snarl of terror… untill suddenly BAM! He hits the wall straight on! SUre, he has the capability to break through a brick wall easy, but normally he sees those comming. Broken barrier or not, the troll make utters some jumble with a finger raised up. He was dazed and seeing stars "Hi papi, we in casito du!"

As the Mime indicates the wall, Phantasm takes note of the imagined structure. Feet adjusting as he comes down his unnaturally long and high leap, the hooded figure adjusts the position of their feet, landing on the ledge of the wall. He kicks towards the mime's face.

The Mime winces and shields himself as Borgon crashes in the Wall, which is no more. A bruise, a cut appears in between the Mime's wide opened hands where the Mime's forehead was unguarded. Bam! Mike the Phantasm's kick connect with the Mime's jaw, sending the french clown in a grotesque pirouette dangerously close to the end of the sidewalk. "Aye bordel the merde!" the Mime says in Paris french before falling sitting where he stood, groggy. Robert, still by the Dojo's entrance, missed all of the action. Done with his makeshift bandage, he walks toward the street corner, his face a shade whiter than usual.

Borgon snapped out of it. He glances to Phantasm and wonder where he came from. But Wall… shooting.. anger! This mime was using magic of all things! Well at least Borgon though it was magic. And now the mime sat there taunting him? Nope. Borgon tackles the Mime again, and more than likely will begin strangling the poor human to death if someone dosn't stop him.

As the wall goes away, The Phantasm remains standing in thin air, staring down at the french mime. His head tilts "…Is he talking about prostitutes?" He asks.

"Don't hit me!" the Mime pleads, "I surrender!" He struggles hopelessly against Borgon's steely grip, wriggling against the concrete as best as he can like the french worm he appears to be. Bystanders are gathering from a safe distance, some of them propping up their phones for a good picture. Robert finally arrives nearby. "Don't kill him too much, Borgon?" he suggest. "And… who are you?" he asks to the masked figure, to the Phantasm. "Thank you for helping, sir." Robert gives the Mime a frowning look, visibly restraining himself from hurting the Mime further.

Borgon grip on the mime was -tight-. Sure it was one hand, but the man was turning blue, as he struggles agaist the trolls vice grip. He wasn't letting up. Infact he seemed about to twist the mans neck untill Sallow says 'don't kill him too much'. His grip loosens a bit, barely, as the man was still struggling. But he looks to Robert "…bit… he shoot? Kill shooter, that how work home." he says with confusion on his face. Though he was also looking to Phantasm floating in the air "….how mage among people here?"

The glowing facial features twist to a slight smile, "Phantasm." The, Avenger answers. He looks to the Mime, eyes glowing brighter from the darkness where his face should be. "Arrested. Then trial." Phantasm says to the one speaking in broken English, "Fate decided by a jury." He pauses, reaching into the shadow of his form, retrieving something. "Can you watch him while I make a call?"

Robert nods to Phantasm, "Yes, do what you need to do, Phatasm." Uneasy, Robert shuffles closer to Borgon, to place a hand on the troll's shoulder and bend a little over the Mime. "The Phantasm is right, Borgon. This… clown here doesn't get to die easy, we will give him a trial and he will be punished. Just hold him for now, I guess," he explains. The Mime coughs, gasps for air. "Merci, merci," he whispers, grateful.

Borgon grunts and he drops the mine "Fine" he crosses his arms. But, he does put a foot on the Mines leg. Trying to get yourself from under a being who weigh 500+ lbs is no easy feet. But hey, at leas the mine can breath. He looks to Phantasm as he papres to make a call "Hmmmm" he was curiouse

Phantasm nods, stepping into an alley. Keeping his back turned to them, he shifts back to human form, immediately reaching back to pull his ACTUAL hood over his face, hiding away any actual facial features he may have. Able to make the call now, he makes a phone call.

"…Hey. Phantasm her- Yes I know it's been awh-" He grumbles, "Strange happened. Uh-hu- Hey. Can we talk about this later? I'm in Chinatown about half a block from Master Cho's. Need a pickup. Mimes his weapons up…" He pauses, shaking his head, "No I'm not joking."

"Putain ma jambe!" the Mime exclaims, acting pain, making a bigger deal than he should about Borgon's boot on his leg. "Well, you should have thought of it before shooting at me, jerkhat," he says, "I have lawyer friends, you're going to the Island for a while. Can you mime dropping a soap bar?" Robert chuckles again, dryly. "He is no mage, Borgon, just one of the humans with power I told you about. Some are bad. He is bad."

Borgon stops and looks to Robert "…ummm, what significant… about dropping this soap?" he wonders. He raises a brow in further confusion. Apparently he needs to be introduced to some more prison movies. His ears twitch as he waits for this mysterious phantasm to come back

Mike brings a hand up to rub at his temple through the fabric of the hood as he continues with the conversation on the phone, doing his best to ignore the siren call to injury lawyers. "Ok. Yes. Pick up now. Talk later. I'll wait." Shutting the phone off with a press of a button, Mike slides the phone back into pocket before shifting back to Phantasm form. "Just another day in New York."

"I'll explain later, Borgon," Robert says, "It's not proper with all the people recording." Indeed, the crowd has thickened, peppered here and there by a white streak of Kung-fu uniform. People are talking in low voices to each other.

"My friends will get me out of prison in no time. I will see you again very soon, all of you," the Mime says in his funny accent, his tone riddled with anger. He coughs and spits, missing a nearby duffel bag by an inch or so.

Borgon looks down "…you need explain why bad live then." he says clearly debating if he should just end the Mime. But this was midgard, not asgard. The rules change. Though judging by the look on his face, he wasn't quite a calmed down troll at the moment. He voice booms out "Floating man! How long have hold rake!" he says his patience growing thin

Phantasm walks back over. "Are you two able to stick around to give statements when they come to pick this guy up?" He asks, gesturing to the mime. He looks to Borgon, "I was …summoning people who have a place this man can be taken to." He explains.

Robert takes a step closer to the Phantasm, nodding. "I guess we can do that. I mean, I can't speak for Borgon, he seems to grow tired of waiting. I really appreciate your help, Phantasm." He offers his hand for Phantasm to shake. "Asgardian justice does things faster, murder can be easily justified over there as I understand it. Also, Borgon grows hungry ever two hours or so. I hope your… associates make it in time before Borgon has a Mime sandwich for his tea time."

The Mime overhears that and fear strikes his face, his eyes grow round. He shuts his mouth tight.

Borgon punches Robert in the shoulder, gently. Well tries to be gentle, probably doesn't work to well "Not Asgard, just nit amurca" he been trying to pass himself off as a mutant "Und et not murder. You try killl us, we kill you. It only fair" he says

Borgon looks down at the Mime, and grins widely showing his rather large sharp canines

Phantasm looks down to the hand before taking it to shake. "Asgardian? That explains things greatly." He looks over to the Mime, "You are lucky he wasn't the only one responding. Remember that. Don't do to others what you wouldn't want done to you."

As Robert retrieves his hand, he takes a half step forward from Borgon's friend tap. He turns around. "I get it, Borgon, we have different customs. Trust me, I will explain at dinner. Time to deal with the crowd, that's my job," he explains. He straightens up, placing both fists on his hips to make himself taller, bigger, larger. People stop murmuring. Cell phones change focus to dart to Robert's figure. "Listen up! Authorities are coming, there's nothing more to see," Robert says. He walks to the duffel bags and scoops two of them in his good hand. "I am returning these bags to my Kung-fu friends, thank you for being civic, people." He walks to the crowd, to hand the bags to the eager teens who awaited all this time.

The Mime does a sick face, watching Robert working the crowd. "Show off," he whispers, torn by professional envy.

The act of course gets Borgon attention. He cants his head. He glances towards Phantasm a moment and hmms. He looks again at the mime "Oh, for the record, troll smell for miles" he wasn't above taunting and intimidation it seems. But the scary part? The troll can be stealthy! One moment here there… and the next he somehow dissappear into the crowd, before vanishing completly. Of course he was proably going for food

"Mind your behavior," Phantasm adds in, giving a fanged smile to the Mime as he fades from view and then back into it. "You never know who is watching."

Robert sees himself stuck in public relations and he misses entirely Borgon bolting off for food. In fact, Robert seems to enjoy the attention more than he should. "…just a flesh wound, be reassured. I will be celebrating at my club, the Glitter Ball, in Queens. All are welcome!" he goes on, forgetting all about everything else. He smiles and makes a peace sign.

The Mime rolls to his side and sits himself on the sidewalk, legs spread and half bent. "I am petitioning my embassy, this was torture!" he protests. "You freaks, I despise you all." He sounds very upset and uppity.

Ahem, as life would have it, Borgon didn't exactly dissappear. Well he did, but that arrow had to come from somewhere, as it lands right between The Mime legs, and on it was a sticky note with >:) written on it with the words "Trolls Watching" as a final statement. But none the less he watchs his friend some afar to make sure things are fine. He had great vision and even saw phantasm fading in and out, which he found odd. But for now, he eats hotdogs from a hotdog cart he comadered earlier that day

After what probably seems like ages to the Mime, a van pulls up with no identifying marks other than standard government issue black. When the person emerging is also wearing a suit, Phantasm tilts his head. "Really?"

"Can't complain when it is a short notice call, Phantasm." The suited woman responds back as others start to secure the area. She looks to the Mime, "They got it from here. We'll of course want witness statements."

The Mime does a highpitched 'eep' at the arrow, balling up in defense. He is not going anywhere. When the agents pour out of the minivan, he gives up his act and looks at his shoes, defeated. He stands up, offering his joined hand, ready for handcuffs. Force of habit?

The crowd is thining to nothing in no time, the outdated peace sign might have been a little too much for the millenials. Robert turns around and walks back to the Phantasm. "I guess you will need my statement now?" he says, eager to get more attention. "I was shot," he explains to the lady agent. "Where is Borgon?" he wonders, scanning.

Borgon for now stays hidden up above. He was on the roof of some nearby building watching. In particular he was watching the black van. According to the movies black vans are either criminals or the FBI or some goverment agency normally. He watches the black van, ready to hurl an axe if needed

No axes were needed that night. The mime was collected and statements were taken.

Fin.

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