Logs:Can wicked rulers be allied with you, those who contrive mischief by statute?

Can wicked rulers be allied with you, those who contrive mischief by statute?
Dramatis Personae Leo, Marinov, Steve	2022-05-11 "I bet PepsiCo would pay a real fortune to get their hands on your reds, whites and blues."
Location <NYC> Times Square
This, possibly the most famous plaza on the planet, is perennially lively, but it's become notably more lively this week. The Free Jackson Holland rallies have relocated here from the smaller and lesser-known Federal Plaza. The slim profile of SHIELD's headquarters has been vaulted from obscurity to international attention when the news of the former HAMMER detainees' final transfer broke. Steve has been here since before the action began with the other volunteers, though he has since gone off-duty at the insistence of his comrades. He's in a tight black t-shirt that reads "None of us are free until all of us are free", faded blue jeans, and black combat boots, the shield across his back decorated with Friend's Bear's crossed-sunflowers belly badge. Despite the absence of color-coded volunteer armbands, he's still scanning the edges of the crowd, checking in those who look like they're wearying, keeping a weather eye on the NYPD and the gawking tourists. Also keeping an eye on the NYPD today is Leo, who has mostly been right in the thick of the crowd. He's dressed today in purple mandarin collar shirt with very subtle blue-pink colorshift piping, black twill trousers and black kilt loafers; he's been far enough removed from his last haircut that his hair is tied off in a short nub of ponytail at the nape of his neck. There's a small printed sign in his hands -- black on yellow, it reads 'MUTANT RIGHTS ARE HUMAN RIGHTS' in bold text and, smaller at the bottom, www.revcom.us. Leo is examining the poster with a faintly bemused frown as he drifts over toward Steve. He tips the sign up demonstratively as he approaches, informing Steve very solemnly, "Someone told me to hold this." While Marinov does not seem weary exactly, their twitching tail indicates a degree of stimulation that has them moved over to a sparser part of the crowd. They're wearing clothes that do not have the kind of flair that they are necessarily known for, instead opting for some more breatheable workout clothes, still stylish light pink and purple top and shorts. They raise their hand in greeting to Steve and Leo, remarking, "Someone around here thinks they're the boss of signs? Guess the writer of the slogan is trying at least." Steve lapses into a brief smile when he spots Leo. "Hey. Those guy -- folks have been showing up at every kind of action lately." He taps the bottom of Leo's sign. "But they're not working with any of the organizers that I've noticed. How are you doing?" In the process of his latest diligent sweep of the crowd he spots Marinov and waves back. "It sure seems that way! Maybe they were referencing the pretty speech by the president of the UN Human Rights Commission." He tips his head back and looks up along the mirrored glass side of the SHIELD building, his eyes narrowing. "An awfully pretty speech." "They had a lot of signs to give out. Maybe they are the boss of signs." Leo holds the sign in question close to his chest. "Do they just show up places to distribute signs? That seems --" His brows knit. "What do they want?" His fingers are tracing lightly against the glossy-smooth surface of the poster. "I didn't listen to the speech. Did he say they were going to let Jax out?" "I don't really know who they are," admits Marinov, "But they should probably work with the organizers if they're gonna be handing out copy-paste slogan signs." They rubs their chin lightly as they evaluate their sign, "But their website is pretty prominent. Maybe want people to think they're involved in organizing shit? Gotta hustle for that clout and all." They cross their arms over their chest and their ears swivel back in an annoyed movement. "I really doubt they'd be letting him out without enough consistent fuss." "Maybe! Or a way of recruiting, or fundraising or..." Steve shakes his head. "I'm honestly not sure. The organizers mostly just ignore them, probably because the sign-bossing makes it kind of hard to tell which ones are the actual RevComs." He glances up at the building again. "They're not. He just grandstanded about how the UN will treat these detainees humanely without compromising the safety of the public." His head shakes sharp and quick. "I don't know if they're going to be any more responsive than HAMMER was, but we're sure as heck more visible here." "I don't actually know what a RevCom is," Leo admits, his frown continuing. "I do not think I am a very good protestor." As if to cement this fact he's setting the sign down atop a small stack of discarded signs that have been piling up on a nearby newsbox. "So that means no torture? I guess --" He's fussing with the signs here, trying to straighten out the pile even though the very disparate sizes of posters make this tricky. "-- the bar here is very low." "I'd guess either revolutionary communists, or like, the revelry commission. If it's the latter, I'd be probably pretty enthused to sign up," says Marinov, then sighing dramatically. "But unfortunately, I expect that's not the case. Not that, uh, I dislike revolution or communism or anything, but..." They trail off and tap the toe of their (very) customized shoe against the ground. "Well... humane treatment is something, I guess. I don't know exactly the shit that HAMMER was getting up to, but in the world of government fucks they seem among the fuckiest." Steve chuckles, blushing ever so faintly. "To be honest, I don't know what it stands for, either, though..." He quirks a lopsided smile at Marinov, "...I'm not sure they're cool enough to be called 'revelry commission'." His smile fades. His jaws clench. "That was the implication, but he didn't say it explicitly. I was under the impression the HRC more or less exists to call out governments for committing atrocities." He takes a deep, calming breath. Lets it back out probably quicker than he'd intended to. "Yeah, and I suspect what's come to light isn't the half of it. And I doubt HAMMER is going to get any less --" He struggles for a word, finally settling on, "-- fucky." "I think if it were Revelling Communists they'd get a lot of support." Leo leaves off fussing with the posters -- for a moment -- then carefully straightens another one Just So. "Well, we heard about the waterboarding so who knows what else they're doing we haven't heard about." His gaze is drifting away, stuttering briefly on a knot of police officers not far distant who have been looking intently in their direction. "I don't really know much about HAMMER but as far as I've been able to find out they basically exist just to hunt down mutants. These people have to be a step up from... that, right?" A rumbling growl that starts up in Marinov's throat is quickly stifled, and then they stay quiet for a few moments. "Sick fucks. Waterboarding... they should just combine HAMMER with all the other people-hunting dumbass acronym fascist departments like ICE, and then transfer their headquarters to deep inside an active volcano." There is still a grumble behind their words, and they scuff their foot again across the ground. "Sorry, I get worked up about this shit... though as venues go," they gesture vaguely to other protestors, "probably the right place to." "The folks actually putting in the work for these actions do try to bring some revelry to relieve the..." Steve swallows. Shakes his head again. "Well. Just, I think a lot of us would have burnt out already if there weren't folks working hard to bring joy and energy, even if they don't feel like they've got much of either themselves." His eyes flick over to the stage. Then back to his companions. He keeps his breathing deliberately even, but he is visibly quite tense. "Yeah, it is right to get worked up about it, and I hope everyone here would agree, however they express that. SHIELD..." He bites his lower lip. "I don't trust them, but I have worked with them. They aren't exclusively about mutants, but..." His lips compress, then skew slightly to one side, his gaze settling on Leo. "They are supposed to monitor and manage...potential threats to the world that don't fall under existing UN orgs' jurisdiction." "Oh I don't think --" Leo is starting, wide-eyed, at the suggestion of combining HAMMER with ICE, but quiets down with an approving nod at the idea of where to put them. "More people should get worked up about this, then maybe we wouldn't be here." When he starts to reach for the pile o' posters again he catches himself, folding his hands behind his back and taking a step away from the line of newspaper boxes. His mouth thins when Steve's eyes fall on him, shoulders tensing and his eyes skating back to the tall building in front of them. "This is why we are so thankful for the opportunities America gives us," he says gravely. "Back home I would maybe only have two different types of police hunting me down but here we get such a variety." "We are lucky for all the good that capitalism has brought us. There is always such selection. Truly, we have a kind of cop for every occasion," says Marinov, rather dryly. Their gaze turns over towards the officers who continue looking in their direction. "God bless America!" They pause a moment, ears reddening a little bit and glance to Steve. "Er-- no offense. Or. I know you are not America of course but. I don't want to disrespect your Captain name. Uh. Though I guess--" This is finished with a helpless shrug. In spite of himself, Steve chuckles, low. "Not that it was fun back when we mostly only had to worry about one flavor of pork, but it's gotten -- really bad. Down in DC sometimes you see several all at once, eyeing each other uncertainly, and it's just absurd." He looks at Marinov. Looks away briefly in deference to their embarrassment. "It's also right to speak up about America's failings, the way this country harms by its actions and inaction. My feelings about the title are complicated, but as long as I can do some good with this mantle, I will wear it. Reminds me that I don't get to disavow responsibility for my country's failings, especially with the power I have and I don't just mean the superpowers. But..." He reaches back to touch the edge of his shield, devoid of any Americana at the moment. "It is a relief to take breaks from Captain America and just be Friend Bear Steve for a while." Leo nods in earnest agreement with Marinov. "What is freedom if you can't have a range of boots on your neck." He smiles faint and amused when Marinov stumbles over Steve's Title. "Captain Friend Bear." This is swiftly followed by a small frown. "-- how often do companies try to pay you to be, maybe, Captain Starbucks or Captain Reebok for a while?" Marinov does not take long to recover from their awkwardness as they note, "I could actually use a greater selection of boots, but I think they suit me better on my feet than my neck." They gesture down at the shoes that have been customized to fit their feline feet. "Yeah. I guess if you thought America was doing everything right, then you wouldn't be at this sorta thing. Captain Friend Bear Steve is great, anyways, I am shit at staying hydrated, so anyone out there watering people is a true fucking hero." They tilt their head thoughtfully at Leo's question. "Shit, you could probably make the big, big money if you sold out." Steve's smile is a little less rueful now. "You are far more worthy of boots than anyone who would wear them to oppress others, and wear them better." His eyebrows raise up high. "Oh, all the time! Usually Luci fields those requests without even consulting me since my answer is always 'no', so it's probably even more often than I think." He turns one hand up with just a minute hitch of muscular shoulders. "I'm lucky enough I can live off of my pension...and such. Could maybe help these kinds of fights better if I were incredibly wealthy, but I will not make Captain America embody one of the awful things about this country I'm trying to set right." "If I were incredibly wealthy, I would be on a quiet island somewhere with my family." Leo says this with more amusement than wistfulness. His smile fades as a pair of Sentinels join the clustered police at their crowd surveillance. His head dips, finger wringing slowly together. "I should get -- somewhere else. I hope you have -- good revelry out here." "I bet PepsiCo would pay a real fortune to get their hands on your reds, whites and blues," says Marinov, and they cup their chin and look upwards as they consider further. "If I were incredibly wealthy, it'd be sashimi night, every night." This seems more of a lament than anything. Their ears twitch a couple of times when the sentinels appear and they nod to Leo, "Oh. Yeah. I'm sure I'll see you soon. I should get back to it. Unless you'd like some accompaniment?" On this last word, they steal a glance furtively towards the authorities. Steve does look a touch wistful at Leo's wealth fantasy, even if he is also smiling. That, too, fades at the sight of the Sentinels. He takes his eyes off them only long enough to glance at Leo. Nods, wistful still. "It was good to see you both. We really should ah -- hang out, sometime. Do some revelry without cops." Rest a hand on Leo's shoulder and squeeze gently. "Be safe, my friend." "I don't -- need to take you away from the --" Leo's eyes flick back toward the tidy pile of posters he's left, "Revolution, but if you're feeling done here I would certainly not mind the company. Kind of wanted to go see Kitty anyway." He gives Steve a small smile, a small nod. "You too." "I'll be back to bring the revolution tomorrow," says Marinov, bowing their head in both farewell and confirmation that they're going to return with Steve. "And yeah, you could come over, hang out some time! I'll seeya later, Captain Friend Bear."