ArchivedLogs:Common Heroism

Common Heroism
Dramatis Personae Paige, Steve
In Absentia	2016-11-12 "New, homesick, homeless, and a demon."
Location <NYC> Lower East Side
Historically characterized by crime and immigrant families crammed into cramped tenement buildings, the Lower East Side is often identified with its working-class roots. Today, it plays host to many of New York's mutant poor, although even here they are still often forced into hiding. Though Saturday is bright and clear with autumnal, there's a hushed tension that's never quite lifted from the streets of the Lower East Side. Businesses, sidewalks, even signs have been vandalized with anti-immigrant or anti-mutant slogans. Just after lunchtime, the residents walk their streets more watchfully than they otherwise might, but word has been getting around of a pro-mutant rights protest planned for the afternoon. No such protesters are yet in evidence, but a few /counter/-protesters have already shown up. Some of them are readily identified by their picket signs (TAKE BACK NEW YORK, MUTIES GO HOME, KEEP AMERICA HUMAN, etc.) while others could easily be mistaken for any cluster of visitors huddled over their smartphones. Protests are not Paige's scene, either pro or against. Too many people, too much tension, too many things that could go wrong. But when you're homeless and wandering the streets of a place like New York, it suddenly becomes oh so much harder to avoid these things, -especially- with the recent election results. Keeping her head low and, of course, hooded has worked for her so far, but she's still obviously a mutant. If her awkward posture and seemingly 'off' gait are not enough of an indicator, she also has a pair of large horns sprouting from the top of her forehead. What with her also being female, not very tall, and visibly distressed, it's as if she has a target painted across her back. So it should come as little surprise when a group of three young men break off from the counter-protesters and begin shadowing her, peppering her with questions. "Where are you going, freak?" "Why are you walking away?" "Too good for us -real- humans?" It only takes a minute before one of them gets close enough to pull her hood off her head, causing her to stumble a step. Wearing a brown leather jacket over a purple, white, and blue plaid flannel shirt and crisp indigo jeans, Steve doesn't quite look the part of Captain America today. Except, perhaps, for the great round face of the shield slung across his back, a white star blazing at the center of a blue circle ringed with white and red. He's humming to himself as he walks briskly toward the subway station from the waterfront, but stops when he catches sight of the young man reaching for Paige's hood. Crossing the street, he calls out, "That's quite enough, now. I don't think they want your attention." The three would-be counter-protesters have begun to surround Paige. "Wow, look at this shit!" the one who had unveiled her horns exclaims, "maybe it's not a mutant. Maybe it's a /demon!/" He closes the next step to her and shoves her, hard. Emboldened by their fellow, the other two also catch up coming at her from the side as if deliberately herding her toward the edge of the sidewalk. All three turn to look at Steve when he speaks, then one of them laughs. "Hey, this is none of your business," says the one who has been laying hands on Paige. "You better go." It's only half a beat later that one of his compatriots says, "Uh, is that /Captain America/?" Paige doesn't have much of a chance to respond to her harassers aside from an exclamation of, "Fuck!" as she gets shoved from behind. At some point in the past, she may have been able to recover from such unexpected forward momentum, but her altered feet don't fair well with balance shifts. She falls quickly onto the street from the sidewalk, mananging to catch herself with her hands. "Ow. Fuck," she mutters under her breath, the little rocks and debris of the road pushing harshly into her hands. At least it sounds like her attacker is now distracted. The young woman attempts to stand herself up with curses of "fucking legs" and "fucking feet", but it's a hassle. Catching the name of someone who her grandparents talked of at length and who had recently been in the news, she grumbles. "Yeah, right, as if Captain America would just be wandering the streets of fucking New York." Even with enhanced reflexes, Steve isn't quite quick enough to prevent Paige from falling once pushed, but he arrives in time to offer her a large, calloused hand up. "In the flesh, though I'm not exactly /wandering/ at the moment," he agrees with a wry smile, "I'm going to visit a friend." Then, much more quietly, to Paige alone, "Are you hurt?" "Oh shit, it /is/ him," the man who had pushed Paige stage whispers to his companions. All of their eyes have gone a bit wide, and a flood of conflicting overlapping mumbles rise from them: "goddamn freak-lover...", "...not as tall as I thought...", "...betray his own species...", "...think he'll autograph my phone?" But once Steve has reached to help Paige up, they evidently decide as one that they were done now, and begin ambling back toward the rest of their counter-protesting group. Having not expected to actually be overheard, Paige stares at the hand and follows it up the arm to the person it's attached to. "I, uh..." she stammers as her face reddens. Aside from the issue with her hands digging into the pavement, she seems to have suffered a few bruises on her legs. "No. I mean, yes. Kind of. Not really? I...you are?" Perhaps a bit starstruck, the young woman decides it would be best to stop making an idiot of herself and take the offered hand. Steve's grip is perhaps surprisingly gentle for a man of such legendary strength, and he takes considerable care helping Paige onto her feet, then back to the sidewalk. "I'm Steve Rogers," he replies with an easy smile that might look smug on someone else, but somehow bespeaks reserved pride on him. "Whether or not I'm Captain America when I'm not in uniform is another debate, but that's a role I've played, yes. And you are...?" He does not step away from her at once, but hovers near for a moment. "Would you like to sit down for a while, perhaps? Evolve isn't far." "I...I'm Paige. Thank you, thank you so much," the horned woman responds as she stares at her hand in Steve's for a moment before withdrawing it. "You're actually Captain America? I never expected...I mean it's like an honor to meet you." Paige switches her statement; an attempt to -not- accidentally insult her good-looking savior. "Evolve sounds pretty good right about now," she replies, wiping the dirt from her pants. "I'm Captain America, when that's what people need. The rest of the time I prefer just 'Steve.'" This with a sort of boyish grin. "Regardless, it's /my/ honor to be of service. It's deplorable, what those fellows were doing, but unfortunately all too common lately." He's begun walking toward Evolve at an even pace. "I take it you're new around here?" "Thanks, again," Paige says as she walks with Steve. "I never really expected you to be a nice person, but apparently I'm some sort of 'demon', so I guess weirder things can happen. I've been harassed before, but never...never like that. I've only been around for only a week, though it's felt much longer than that." She pauses for a slight moment to reach back and pull her hood back on. "New, homesick, homeless, and a demon." Steve chuckles, and perhaps blushes just a touch. "I'm afraid the older media -- comic books and what-not -- preferred to depict me as the perfect soldier whose only past-time is punching Nazis." He shrugs philosophically. "I certainly did my share of Nazi-punching, but my real job? The important part? Was always about protecting people, /helping/ people." His pale blue eyes skip aside to study Paige. "I'm afraid you picked a bad time to be in New York, much less the Lower East Side. There's been a /lot of violence this past week." Arriving at Evolve's door, he holds it open for Paige. "I'm no expert on demons, but I wouldn't peg you as one. I can't help you with new and homesick -- but if you need a place to stay, there's at least two guest rooms vacant at the Harbor Commons..." It's Paige's turn to shrug. "I never did much comic book reading and it was kind of a...I really had no choice," she replies, rubbing her arms. "Heh," she chuckles as Steve opens the door for her. "It's been a while since anyone has actually seemed like they -wanted- me to enter an establishment - thanks." Then the hooded, horned young woman lets out a hesitant sigh. "As much as I'd love to get a room somewhere, I don't have the cash to pay rent or anything. A night somewhere would probably break my budget a bit too much. I asked some kid the other night if they could ask around. Hopefully something will come of it," she admits as she enters Evolve. Steve's lips press into a thin line. He follows Paige inside and ushers her to the counter, where there's a short line for the register. Fishing a wallet from the rear pocket of his jeans, he pulls out a twenty dollar bill and a business card. "The Commons is a mutant-friendly residential community. If you're feeling wary, you can research them online -- the website, address, and the number for the leasing office are all on this card. But..." He proffers both cash and card folded together. "...if you'll accept my word as vetting, the core of the community is solid. And we don't charge our guests. Just tell them Steve sent you." Paige takes a moment to stare at the twenty dollar bill, hesitating. "I'm not really one for charity. Especially after you scared those goons away for me," she says, blushing as she takes the money and the card. "But I...I probably need it. "And what do you mean 'if' I accept your word. You've been nothing but the nicest person to me since I got here. And, besides, you're kind of a hero and all. And now you're kind of my my hero, too. So, uh, yeah, I don't think I'll doubt you on this," she continues with a grin. "I...Look, Steve -- thank you. I can't express that enough. You've done more for me in a few minutes than anyone I've ever known. If you, uh, ever need to find me, I guess you'll know where." This last part is said with an even deeper blush. "Thanks."