He Can Fly!


albert_icon.jpg dee_icon.jpg scrivner_icon.jpg

Scene Title He Can Fly!
Synopsis He can fly, he can fly, he can fly, he can fly, he can fly!

Ellis Island - New York City

For half a century the poor and huddled massesrefugees from other landsstopped here, before entering America. The old wooden building that served as the final gate to the American Dream no longer stands. In its place is a small, simple white building. It looks too new to be on the grounds of history. The lawn surrounding the Ellis Island Museum is well kept with small patches of daisies and dandelions whitening the dark green. The museum contains photographs, paintings and artifacts from the early 1900s. For a few moments you can watch the faces of dreamers, hopeful immigrants coming to a new land of hope, full of promise. Inside, for a few moments, you can feel the beginnings of a new century, and a new America poised on the dawn of recovery.

When the sun sets, the air grows chilly over New York. A faint, sickly orange glow lights the skies, drowning out the glittering of stars. It's a shame. There's no cloud cover tonight, and the moon high above shines like a pearl. The tourists have all mostly gone home since the museums are closing, meaning the island is emptying out and the ferries will soon stop coming.

For one man that's hardly a problem. He didn't come by ferry to begin with. Dressed in a three piece business suit and trenchcoat, carrying his sword in a case across his back, Rufus Scrivner stands on a stretch of sidewalk beneath the glow of a street lamp, facing a building that… isn't quite all the way there. Mortals cannot see it. They walk through it as if it weren't even there, completely oblivious. To anyone with ichor in his blood, however, the building stretches out over the pavement, reminiscent of an old immigration station from the early twentieth century. It looks like it's seen better days. It's still, and it's quiet, but Rufus is watching it.

Albert can be seen leaning up against a tree, seemingly asleep. However, if you listen closely enough, you can hear him talk to himself. "Come on," he muttered, "I still can't do it. What's wrong with me? I know I have the potential, but I just can't seem to do it. Maybe…"

He stops short of finishing his monologue. He spys Scrivner staring at a building, and then after awhile, starts staring at it himself. "Hey," he asks, "what's so special about this building? Just its historical value, or is something interesting about to happen?"

Hearing that voice calling out to him, Rufus turns his head slightly in Albert's direction, soon finding the younger man standing beneath the shelter of the tree. He doesn't answer straightaway. The Englishman arches an eyebrow, glances back at the building, and then he pushes himself forward and takes a few slow steps towards the young man. His hands slip into the pockets of his trench coat, and idly, he replies, "This building is part of a rift. It is half in this world and half within another. Albert is your name, isn't it? I've seen you about a few times, here and there, getting into trouble with the rest of us."

"Yeah," Albert says, "I'm Albert. Who are you? And… half in this world, half in another? What world would that be?" While he says this, he tenses up, seeming to try to fight gravity.

"One of the Overworlds, I expect," Rufus muses, glancing back at the shadowed building, looking it over. Calmly he reaches into his coat, slipping his fingers into an inner breast pocket of his suit jacket. Once he's found what he's seeking, he pulls free a business card and hands it over between his first two fingertips. "Rufus Scrivner," he says. "Son of Tyr, and if I remember rightly, as the son of Thor, you are my cousin. A pleasure to make your acquaintance at last." The smile falters slowly, and he's left studying the younger man with an arching eyebrow. "I say… Are you all right? You look as if you might be having a spot of digestive trouble."

Dee has arrived.

Glancing over at Scrivner, then back at the building, Albert whistles. "One of the overworlds," he says, "huh. This is definitely big…. oh, no, I'm fine. Just trying to remember how to fly. Or learn, if that was just a dream I had."

The card remains held out between his fingertips, with Rufus studying Albert a moment or two longer, vaguely perplexed. "Yes, it is rather big, though this rift has been quiet for several weeks. I've been monitoring it personally, as well as others around New York City. I thought this evening there might have been something happening, but… It must simply have been a temporary glitch with my equipment." He glances down at his card, lightly flipping it about. "Flying, hmmmm? Did your father give you a relic imbued with his power to help you? That is how it works, I'm afraid. A Scion cannot handle the power of the gods without a buffer of some sort."

Dee, too, has headed towards Ellis Island without the need for mass transit. She's all in her black riding leathers, and wearing her helmet to hide her identity some. She seems perfectly comfortable in the air, as she flies towards the rift and in fact right towards Rufus.

"I have a relic that gives me flight powers," Albert replies. He then taps one of his gauntleted hands with the other. "These gloves give me powers of the sky or something, which I'm pretty sure includes flight. I think I even flew once, though that could've been a strange dream caused by that Halloween party…"

Albert senses something shooting at him, and prepares for battle. He raises his right arm, to block any incoming attacks with his shield, while preparing his left arm for a punch…

Rufus glances down at his card, and calmly he tucks it back into the inner breast pocket of his jacket. Seeing Albert react so, his eyes quickly dart up to follow his line of sight into the skies. He recognises those black leathers, that feminine figure. "Cousin mine, if you punch my dear friend Miss Floros, I shall have to box your ears and knock some sense into your skull." The Englishman raises his hand and waves it to the lady, calling up to Dee, "I say! What are you doing about in this direction?"

Said Miss Floros has a hell of a sense of hearing, it seems. Once she's closer to the pair, she notes with a grin "Rufus, you've seen things try to hit me. If he can connect, I deserve to get hit." Meanwhile, she comes to a stop nearby the gentlemen, hovering a few inches off the ground.

"Heheh… sorry," Albert says, embarressed. "I always was a little hasty to enter battle. So, what's up?"

Once again, Albert seems to contort with concentration. "Ergh… up up and away," he asks, rhetorically, as he punches towards the sky.

"My dear Dee, let's not encourage him," Rufus says with a smirk. His hands remain casually in the pockets of his coat, but his pale eyes flicker from the lady to his younger cousin, watching him quietly. He arches an eyebrow again, and then he looks back at Dee. "Fancy helping me to teach my cousin a lesson? He wishes to fly."

Dee continues to hang in the air. "Oh? Why can't he fly?" she looks Albert over, circling him to do it. "Why can't you fly? I heard you say you have a relic for it."

"I DO have a relic for it," Albert sighs, "but for some reason, I can't remember how the heck to fly. I mean, I can't remember how to activate my flight ability, or I don't know how. Depends on whether or not my memory of flying is one."

"I imagine he hasn't mastered it," Rufus muses. Calmly he buttons up his trenchcoat a little more securely, doublechecks that the strap of his sword case won't come open easily, and then he tenses. He gathers himself, then lightly springs into the air, coming to over a foot or so above the ground. He looks up and around, and then he smirks, finding somewhere he thinks is quite perfect for a starting point. Then he extends a hand down to Albert, for him to take. "Take my hand," he says. "I'll carry you up."

Dee hmms. "You can't remember how to fly." she echoes. "That was pretty much the first thing I did, when I got my boots." She grins at Rufus then, and says "That was some very painful months." She settles in to watch, still hovering.

"Okay…" Albert says, as he extends his hand to grab Scrivner's. "So, how high up we going?"

His grip is strong and tight as he reaches down, fingers wrapping around his cousin's wrist. Rufus kicks out one leg so the kid can plant his own feet against him, give him something to brace himself against. But in a few seconds, he firmly jerks up, and the Englishman has his arm wrapped around Albert's chest like he's an overgrown kid getting carried like a sack of potatoes. Then up he goes, turning his head to call back to Dee, "My first flight… I thought it a brilliant idea to walk to the top of St. Paul's Cathedral and fling myself from the highest point. It was amazing that I didn't break my neck."

Soon enough, Rufus comes to land atop the roof of a three story building, one that looks over a quiet, empty expanse of manicured lawn and trees.

There's a laugh from Dee. "Wow. That was pretty stupid. No offense." she adds then. "I didn't jump off something really high for about a week. Well. Almost a week." There's a beat, then "Well. It wasn't the first day."

"So… jumping off tall buildings with a single bound is a bad thing," Albert asks. "I never really had a problem with that, interestingly enough. Fallen off a few buildings without incident. Anyways, what now?"

"Now, I am going to explain to you how I maintain the power of flight," Rufus says, as he makes a landing and rakes his fingers back quickly through windblown hair. He walks up to the edge of the roof, looking out for a moment before he turns his head to Dee. Smirking at the lady, he mutters, "Pot. Kettle." And then back to Albert, he briskly says, "It takes time to accept and fully /believe/ and /expect/ the winds to lift you and carry you. Once you have mastered this, once you've gained trust in the power your father has bequeathed to you, the winds will obey. They will push against you and hold you aloft, then carry you where you wish to go."

Dee grins. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you. Speak up next time?" Yeah. Nothing wrong with her hearing. She just lets the menfolk do their thing, focusing instead for the moment on the rift.

Albert frowns at Scrivner's words. "Man," he says, "this stinks. I can't believe that I've been trying to make myself fly… it is the power of the winds that allows flight. I can't believe I couldn't think of that myself. Hold on…"

Albert concentrates on the power of the wind, using it's power to push himself upwards… by about a foot. He manages to stay there for a few seconds, before landing. "Okay, I think I got step one," he says, seemingly out of breath. "I think I need more energy, though. Perhaps if I needed to fly, then I'd be able to summon the willpower to do so, but I don't see me needing to fly any time soon…"

Here is where Rufus smiles. "Yes, that is generally how it is done," he says, mildly. "We are now prepared for the next step of our lesson, Cousin mine."

The Scion of Tyr suddenly lashes out, moving like a blur of colour to the mortal eye. In less time than it takes for a heart to beat he's dashed up behind Albert, snapped out his hands and /pushed/ with a great good deal of strength. Not all of the strength he can muster, of course, but just enough that it would send Albert flying if the kid doesn't dodge him in time. Fly!

Albert flys! Look at him go, flying straight… down. No, wait, that's called 'plummeting'… Albert suddenly stops, mid-fall. Looks like he has air-brakes. He is breathing extremely heavily, but then his breath slows down, until he is breathing normally.

"Heh… I'm doing it," Albert exclaims. "Now, uh… I take it the sky isn't made of cement." He then flips himself upright. "Now, I know which way is up… how to go that way?" He then wills the wind to push him up, and suddenly, Albert accelerates upward.

Rufus walks up to the edge of the roof again, folding his hands behind his back and calmly leaning over to watch his cousin with a smirk on his face. "Just like that, I expect," he calls out. "Now the third step is to practice! There is little more that needs to be done to teach you."

Dee returns her attention to the gentlemen for a moment, and calls upwards to Albert "Might not want to go all that high, at first… Gravities a bitch."

"Thanks, guys," Albert says sincerely. "That really helped. But I do have a question… is the 'succeed or die' method of training the Aesir method of training? Because Wesley tried something similar to teach me combat. Not pushing me off a building, but… actually, it might have been even more dangerous than this."

Mention of Wesley gets… something of a sigh out of Rufus, but he says not one ill word against his other cousin. "For the most part, yes," the Englishman calls back. "They believe in something called tough love. They are oft-times brutal in their treatment of their children, because life /is/ harsh and the sooner the child learns this, the better. Rest assured, Albert, I would not have pushed you off of the building if I thought that you could be seriously hurt by it. You already demonstrated an ability to hover." His smirk is faintly amused. "And if fledgling birds can learn to fly by being pushed out of the nest, I had full faith in your ability to learn as quickly as a fledgling."

"I thought as much," Albert sighs, his mind seeming to be focused elsewhere. "Anyways… that building is bothering me. Not sure why it is, but it is. Expecting anything to jump out of it?"

Dee can only shrug. "Don't ask me - I'm Greek. We seem to do things really differently. Really, really differently." she adds with a grin.

Rufus cannot help but turn his head, arching an eyebrow at Dee this time. He opens his mouth as if he would ask, but he decides, in the end, he probably does /not/ want to know. But then again… Vette is descended from the Greeks. Hmmm. Clearing his throat, he soon turns back to Albert, then he glances at the building. "Not tonight," he says. "As I mentioned before, it's been quiet for weeks. I do believe it has been abandoned by whatever forces were once using it. If I could find a way to close it permanently, I would."

"Abandoned," Albert muses. "Strange. Oh, what do I know. This seems beyond me for now. But I would've tried to close it. So, can't you just nail the door shut?…I'm kidding, I'm kidding. You mean the rift, right? Hmm…"

There's a grin at Rufus, Dee looking as though she's daring him to ask. And, looking as though she's sure he'll be mortified by her answer. Especially given Vette's one of hers.

Oh, he /is/ tempted. More and more. Especially when the lady grins the way she does. Rufus eyes Dee out of peripheral vision, trying to focus instead on Albert. "Yes, little cousin, I do mean the rift. It's a much more complicated process than nailing doors shut, and not one that I or my dear Miss Adams knows how to complete. Still, I expect someday we will be able to do so. Just not for awhile." Then he turns to Dee. He can't /take/ it anymore. "Just… /how/ differently do the Greeks teach?" he asks in a murmur.

"Hmm… how connected is this world to that one," Albert asks. "Is that a two-way door, a one-way portal, or a window? I'm worried about what might go in, more than what might come out…"

It's obvious that Dee's enjoying herself in a manner that has nothing to do with any flight lesson or discussion of the rift. No, it's purely at Rufus' expense. When he finally breaks down, she says "What, you've never really looked at all those figures on plates and urns?" You know, the nekkid ones. "I can't really tell you everything - we Greeks are a little closed-mouthed about our rituals, but there's a lot of wine and dancing involved. Clothing optional, of course." She doesn't say it with a straight face, but she doesn't make it absolutely simple to tell she's lying.

He gets it. Oh, yes. He does. Rufus' cheeks heat up, and he clears his throat, trying to fight down a smirk. "/Why/ do I ever talk to you, Miss Floros? You've a one track mind, and it's full of dirt." He almost fails that battle there, and clearing his throat, he turns his gaze back to Albert. "Hmmm? Oh." Yes, he needs to stop being distracted by the teasing Greek lady in black leather. "Ahem. It was a two-way door, yes, but it's crumbled and been sealed closed, more or less, by a cave-in. Nothing goes in, and nothing has come out."

Dee can't help laughing. "Because somewhere, deep inside all that British repression, you love it." she replies to him, still hovering nearby.

"Still…." Albert starts, then stops. "You know what? Nevermind. I'll think about this place later. For now… thanks for the help, but I must be off." Albert then flies away - erratically, but still… he can fly now. That's a good start, right?

Albert has disconnected.

It's a good start indeed. Rufus lifts a hand to wave bye to the kid, even as his cheeks burn. Then he turns around to look up at Dee, arching an eyebrow. "I plead the fifth," he says levelly. Then he gathers himself and launches up into the air, easily swooping about in a circle around the lady. Then he offers her his hand. "May I offer you an escort to wherever you're going?"

Dee waves to Albert as he flies off, then looks back to Rufus and chuckles as he blushes. When his hand is offered it's taken, of course, and she says "Certainly. I was just having a quick look here, before heading back to the hub. Anywhere you need to be at the moment?"

"Not at all," Rufus says as he takes the lady's hand firmly in his, sweeping in closer so he can rest it about his elbow instead. It's less intimate that way and far more appropriate. "To the hub we shall go then." They won't be able to fly the entire way, of course, but the Englishman swoops down low through the skies and begins to soar across the water.

It's obvious that Dee loves to fly. She lets him lead, of course. He is the gentleman, and she is capable of manners when she so chooses. "So, how are you and Vette doing?" she asks out of nowhere. So much for those manners. Or tact.

He supposes he should have expected that question at /some/ point, given what the lady's already witnessed. Rufus' jaw tightens as he flies low over the water. He's so close he could just reach out his hand to trail his fingers through the choppy, cold waves. He doesn't, though. Rather, he says, "I think we'll be all right. We've had a spot of trouble lately, but I blame the stress of what we're facing. She has had to reconcile herself to things she's unused to. It's a growing period for her."

Dee considers for a long moment, quiet as though trying to decide how to approach it. Clearly, this isn't Rufus' favorite topic for discussion. "Yes, but I mean as a whole. Apart from whatever little spats come up. Are you thinking this is a long haul sort of relationship?"

"Oh." It's clear he's taken aback, and Rufus quickly glances at Dee. It won't take him long to lead her to the opposite shores, and he alights upon the ground after making certain no one's really paying attention. He guides the lady down to the ground with him, and then he smoothes down his trenchcoat. "I'm quite… taken with Miss Adams," he says awkwardly. "I certainly don't wish to lose her company anytime soon, so…. yes?"

Dee lands gracefully, of course. She really does have a good handle on the flying thing, as he does. "Well, good." she replies with a smile, and is apparently content to leave it there.

He doesn't take his elbow from the lady, but he does watch her as if he expected something more to be said. When it doesn't happen, he relaxes a touch, and he exhales a deep breath. Then a thought occurs to him, and Rufus tilts his head at an angle. "Miss Floros," he says slowly. "Let us say, hypothetically speaking… that an Aesir wished to propose marriage to a Greek lady. Should he expect to approach the lady's father first and gain his permission?"

Dee tilts her head just a bit, then looks at him sidelong. "Really? How long have you been seeing each other? And you do know that her father, in particular, is likely to have all sorts of awful weapons laying around, right?"

Not /quite/ the encouragement or approval he might have been hoping for, and Rufus' cheeks darken a touch. His jaw tightens, and after drawing a slow, deep breath, he murmurs, "Since late May. Around five months now. It is early, yes, I realise this. I…" He frowns as he inclines his head, going quiet for a second or two more. "Do you really think her father will disapprove so violently?"

"He's a god. Who can say?" Dee replies. "I'd be more worried what he'd do to you if you hurt her. Or if he thinks you've hurt her."

"I rather wish I knew more about Hephaestus in general," Rufus quietly rumbles. "From what I've heard, he's a rather bitter, isolated sort who does not appreciate how his wife Aphrodite is the bicycle of the pantheon. I do not even know how to begin finding out what I should do. You don't happen to know anyone who'd know of the proper etiquette amidst the Greek gods, do you?"

Dee thinks about that for a long moment, then has to admit "I really don't, sorry. Especially with the goddess of love being said bicycle. Are you sure she's ready for that kind of thing, though? I mean, she's still really young."

"She is twenty-six," Rufus counters, glancing at the lady. "Hardly old, I know, but hardly the young and blushing teenage girl fresh out of high school. I don't know that she's ready, though. I don't know that /I/ am ready. It is, however, something that I have begun contemplating, and I would like to know all about what I am about to leap into before I take that leap."

Dee considers. "Not young, but she still seems kind of young. Maybe it's just me, though. It's good to know all about what you'd be getting into, of course.

He smiles wryly. Now Rufus sets off at a brisk walk, making his way through the streets towards the parking garage where he left his car. "She is… It is all so very complicated. She has had a …" His flailing for the right word soon ends with a deep sigh. "She has some issues with… confidence in herself and her abilities. Sometimes, it makes her appear very young."

Dee nods to that. "She does have huge confidence issues. Hopefully being settled in with the Band is helping her with that. She definitely had her place, after all. Like we all do.

His steps echo quietly, and some of the tension drains from Rufus' shoulders. "I blame her father," he quietly states. "He did not see to it that she was placed with a good family after she was born. She was shuffled from one family to another in foster care, and though she was never treated unkindly, she always grew up with the sense of … a sense of worthlessness. If she did not behave herself, if she did not be the perfect child and have something valuable to contribute, then she would be cast out. It has been hampering her potential, and I … I don't know what I can do to help her. I've been trying, but a great good deal of me fears that I will only make the situation worse."

There's a quiet 'hm' from Dee. "I was lucky. My mother raised me well, and she taught me the things I needed to know. To, uh, not get caught." She says that kind of quietly and fast though. Moving right along…

He glances sidelong at Dee, and he smirks. "I was fortunate as well," Rufus murmurs. "I was raised by my mother and her husband in high society London, and when my mother died, Tyr stepped in." The smirk fades away, and for a second or two, something peculiar comes over him, forcing him to look away quickly. He roughly clears his throat, then he scowls. "Part of me is inclined to challenge Hephaestus if he thinks to give me any difficulty over whether or not I can be a suitable husband for his daughter."

Dee grins. "Who knows? That might impress him. Or, he might beat you into a fine pulp. It's really hard to say."

He grunts. "Perhaps I'd best take some friends or family with me when I approach him," Rufus mutters. "… /If/ I approach him. Despite my speculations, I'm not yet ready to take this plunge." He glances down at the lady's face, and he smiles ever so faintly. "But thank you for being my sounding board. I'd been wondering about this for some time, but it struck me that Vette would be charmed more if I sprang this upon her as a complete surprise."

"Anytime, Rufus." Dee replies. "I might give you grief, because it's fun, but I respect the hell out of you. You're a really good guy."

He barks a low, rough and quiet laugh. "Thank you, Miss Floros," Rufus murmurs in answer, his smile settling into something wry. "But in all honesty, I'm not certain I deserve that. I've made my fair share of mistakes, and I have fallen along the way more than I care to think about. I must also admit to a great deal of respect for you. You are an admirably cunning woman."

Dee chuckles. "How many of us haven't made our fair share of mistakes?" she replies to him. "It's how we learn, right? I mean, assuming we don't die from those mistakes." She pats his arm, and says "Thank you. It's true. I am admirably cunning." She turns enough to wink at him.

"Hm. What does one do, though, when those mistakes could result in the deaths of others?" Rufus muses. "That is one point of bitterness I do carry with me. I abhor the deaths of innocents, and yet… twice… Innocents have been slain by my own hand because I was too ignorant." He glances again at her, and he smirks. "So modest you are too."

There's a wink in reply, and Dee says "I don't believe in false modesty." She becomes more serious though, when the subject demands it. "As much as I hate innocent people dying, Rufus, it's going to happen. We're fighting things that want to destroy everyone, and sometimes they're going to win a battle." To the issue of the innocent dying at his hands, she sighs quietly. "That, too, is unavoidable sometimes, I think. There's just so much going on, and we can't possibly know everything. All we can do is act according to our conscience, and feel really badly when it happens. I mean, what else is there?"

He reaches out his hand to pat the lady briefly upon the shoulder, and Rufus nods his head. "I've more or less come to the same conclusion myself these past few days," he quietly admits. "Do the best that I possibly can with what I have, then atone if I should go astray from my path." He's approaching the parking garage now, but he opts to take the stairs instead of the lift up to the top floor.

Dee seems fine with just tagging along whichever way he wants to go. "It it's an accident, you're not really straying. You're just being imperfect. It we were perfect, we'd be gods already. Well, if we were closer to perfect, because let's face it…" Yeah, the gods aren't perfect, either.

"Indeed," Rufus quietly states. "Still, I don't wish to be a disgrace to my father's name." The man digs keys out of his coat pocket, which jangle between his fingers, and he steps around his black Ford Escort GT to unlock the passenger side door and open it for Dee. Resting his arm along the top, he frowns to himself. "Do you ever speak with your father?"

"You have a particularly hard father to live up to." Dee notes as he sees to the unlocking. With a shake of her head, she says "Just the once. He is the messenger of his pantheon, though. He's really busy. We did have a really good time that once, though." she remembers with a smile.

Once she's in the car, Rufus closes the door for her and walks around to the driver's side, unlocking it and climbing in. As he buckles up out of habit, he glances over at the lady and smirks. "What did you two do?"

Dee replies "My mother and I went to Greece for my eighteenth birthday, and that's when she introduced me to him. We spent the night talking and drinking. I'm pretty sure he later went off to bed with my mother, but I don't have any siblings to show for that."

Dee says, "Come morning, he was gone. Back to work."

He starts the engine, slips off the parking brake, then slips the gearstick back into reverse as he eases the car out of the space. Rufus smiles a little, and he says, "And here I thought you two would have had some keystone cops caper in some museum. That seems more or less your style." And with that, he settles into driving back to their hub, so he can get back to his obsessive plotting to hunt down Louie.

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