Misty Knight, I am your man!
The lights are low - not to create a romantic atmosphere, but so the diners can't see who's sitting at nearby tables. The menu is in Turkish with some grease-pencil bits of both German and Arabic scrawled into the margins, and the occasional cell-phone number alongside surprisingly clear drawings on the back. Raven's already ordered a large plate
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"Yeah, it's just around - unfortunately, no fancy stuff in it that allows me to call it to drive here. Fortunately, it's max speed of 300 miles per hour makes up for that." She says with a very content smile, taking the ice cream bar and eating it quickly. She pulls out a packet of beef jerky and hands it over to Mystique, just in case she's still hungry after the ice cream.
"Gotcha. No littering, and no jaywalking."
She takes one last bite of the ice cream bar and swallows.
"Ready to go?"
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"I'm ready whenever you are, beautiful." She forces herself not to leer as she hops on the back of the bike, opening her arms wide to give Misty plenty of room to slide on in front of her. Raven's been looking forward to this part of the night since a pogo-stick was bounced on her head.
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And with a turn of the key, a twist of the handles, they are off.
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She scoots closer. "After all that time with Forge, I have to say I have a hard time resisting the seductive allure of machine oil." She rests a chin on the shoulder of Misty's cybernetic arm and shifts in her seat to make sure Misty knows the full length of her appreciation.
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"Living for a century really has allowed you to perfect the art of straddling the line between being friendly and just blatantly saying you want to get at my panties." Misty shoots back with a grin as she swerves through traffic.
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"There's the statue," she points up ahead. "Go left. The road we want is at eight o'clock, if you count the horse as the center."
Some retro kids on rollerskates circle the statue, glaring at any passing cars. Two stare in admiration at Misty's bike while another gives them the finger.
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Uncontrollably kind of hot.
And Mystique does have a sexy voice. She wasn't getting into her pants, but Misty gave credit where credit was due.
Misty follows the directions, promptly flipping off the kid in return with her metallic arm, far more imposing than his still developing fleshy fingers.
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"Looks like we've got some admirers," Raven mutters.
They're almost to the imposing stone monument. "You just don't get architecture like this in the States," Raven sighs. "Slow down."
She squints. A group of four intent looking Germans are sitting on the ground below the far left column of the Gate, apparently playing cards. One column over, a crowd has collected to watch three well coordinated men in Karate uniforms shadow box. "Damn," Mystique mutters. "Just what we need. An audience. If that Pogo-Ninja was telling the truth, his reform school buddy should be out here somewhere."
( ... )
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Misty dismounts, made slightly difficult by the grip Mystique has on her. She boots the kickstand up, and lets the bike rest.
"Mild electric shock if anyone tries to steal it." She says quite casually, pressing a button on her keyring.
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The roller skaters are slowly catching up to them. "You might want to tune that shock up a little higher." She jerks a thumb in their direction. "Those kids really like your bike."
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The kickboxers routine is beautifully cooreographed. Without ever touching one another, their shadows appear to punch, pummel, block, and even fall. Meanwhile, the kickboxers themselves move with an easy elegance that shows years of practice.
"I'd do that one," Raven points at a deeply tanned brunette with a ponytail and a handlebar moustache.
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Misty switches her eyes from watching the kickboxers, looking for the pogoer, looking around her surroundings, and looking at Mystique looking at something else, keeping her eyes busy all the while.
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Although she keeps a loose arm around Misty's waist, Mystique's eyes glaze with nostalgia. Therefore, she doesn't notice the young man in a boarding school uniform carrying a briefcase in one hand and a pair of panties in the other. He nods once at the kickboxers, then moves past them to the adjacent column with the bridge players.
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Misty trails after him, stepping close, tempted to pull out her Magnum, but sides with swinging her metallic arm a small distance away from his face, hoping to stop him dead.
"Remember this?" She says, grinning.
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