Sandwich
Chicken Shawarma          $15
Lamb shawarma             $18
Kafta kabob sandwich      $14
Steak and cheese sandwich $20
Flafel sandwich           $12

Plates
Chicken Shawarma Plate:   $20
Lam Shawarma Plate:       $25
Kafta Kabob Plate:        $19
FlafelPlate:              $22
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Burgers
Hamburger                 ($10)
Chicken Burgers           ($10)
Fish Burgers              ($12)

Extra
Cheese                     $1
Egg                        $2

Special
Chicken                    25
Lamb                       28
Kafta Kabob                23
Steak                      30

Varieties
Chicken and Fries         $17
Chicken Salad             $17
Lamb salad                $20

Hommos
Baba Ghannough            $6
Tabouleh                  $10
Fries                     $7

Desert
Baklava                   $7

Darien picked the fries still left on his plate, swirling each briefly in a puddle of ketchup before eating it. He was pleased that his presence was kept out of the papers so far, thankful that the press had more obvious person's of interest. Whom he was eating lunch with now, so he wasn't sure how much longer his anonymity would remain intact. "Not that I think it's the end of the world or anything, but anyone have thoughts about why all this weird stuff is happening right now? Did it finally hit critical mass?"

Jason sits in front his untouched food and rubs his bleary, bloodshot eyes. Another night chasing dead-end leads on Temere left him tired and cranky. These daytime meetings usually helped; they gave Jason a chance to speak freely and reminded him to eat. But today, he just wasn't feeling it.

"As far as I'm concerned, things have always been weird - People are just finally noticing it," he mutters snidely before looking up "The real question is, what are we going to do about it?"

(The Spook is not in costume at the moment, and I am assuming that everyone present has been informed of his true identity, in the utmost confidence of course. :P)
This message was last edited by the player at 19:21, Tue 11 Aug 2015.

Nate picks up some schawarma and sits down.  His real life identity isn't extremely famous but he has been in a few financial and gossip columns since his parents death and becoming the sole heir to the Zieschang fortune a few months ago.  Depending on what you read, you may recognize him.

"My great grandpa fought Nazi sorcerers and science experiments... gramps showed me some of the memorabilia.  So things have been strange before, just much lower key.  Curious if there is a reason for what is happening now."

OOC: At which point, we should all turn our heads toward Devilgirl. :)

"I'll buy that," Darien said before slurping up the last of soda. "But to your point," he added, nodding toward The Spook, "is what now?"

"Just look at the paper," Jason exasperatedly snaps "People are freaking out, they're calling it the end times! Even the Mayor is under a religious witch hunt. My point is that we need to take action before the whole city collapses under its own paranoia. There doesn't seem to be anyone else that can."

"You can't stop people from panicking or politicians from politicking. And it's not like a bunch of freaky people with freaky powers can convince people the end of the world isn't coming." Darien shrugged and leaned back in his chair.

The breaking news interrupts Jason's reply. He stares at the small TV briefly before making up his mind.

"We might not be able to stop people from panicking," Jason starts quietly. He abruptly stands, skidding his chair loudly while gesturing at the screen "But we should at least try. I don't know about the rest of you, but that's what I'm going to do - and that's where I'll be. Enjoy your fries." He storms off without waiting for response, opening his backpack for a quick change of clothes.

OOC: Exiting to the Front Page News thread - probably need the head start seeing as I'm going on foot, eh?
This message was last edited by the player at 19:31, Wed 12 Aug 2015.

"That is why we might need a PR agency.  Put the right spin on our appearance."

Noting the riot.

"But we have things to take care of... like seeing what's up with the riot."

"You mean not run off like an a-hole?" Darien asked sarcastically. He drifted off to his own thoughts for several moments.

"Be nice."
"Meh. Screw him."
"What's wrong?"
"We shouldn't be adding fuel to the fire."
"Are we?"
"We weren't causing a ruckus at the press conference."


Darien sat upright, the front legs of his chair banged the floor. "Can you get us there quicker than the subway?"

Can any of us perform any sort of crowd-control? If there are as many snakes as it seems then we really do need a plan...

How many snakes are immediately guarding the hostages? Just the one that nearly sniffed me out?

(OOC, see the front page news.)

There weren't many things Henry could do without fanfare or attention, yet he occasionally could find a moment's peace on his Triumph, especially when he exited the employee garage of his headquarters, instead of his known "public" means of ingress and egress (even the "I don't want to be disturbed" private entrance).

Today was one such moment as he pulled his bike into an available spot in front of the Schawarma King, leaving his helmet on until he was inside the restaurant.

Ordering a lamb schawarma, fries, and an iced tea, Henry found a spot long the wall (away from the storefront) and took a seat...

After a little while Henry's number is called and he's served his order.  It all drips with grease, tasty but heavy.

Darien slid into the booth and flopped a little on the cushioned seat. He looked at Manmirror across from him. "We did a good job and the right thing and all, but I can't help but feel we should be doing more. Waiting for bad things to happen and cleaning up afterwards seems like a not great use of our time."

On the way to the cafe, Manmirror looked down at Darien and said, "hey, check this."
As soon as the words left his mouth he ceased to shine and reflect the light around him. "now, I'm incognito. No one recognizes me."
"Which kind of makes me feel sad, with that much stupidity around you it's hard not to step in some of it."
Once seated in the booth, Manmirror ordered baklava and coffee before he really listened to anything anyone was saying. Finally, he responded to Darien's comments. "'Waiting for bad things to happen and cleaning up afterwards' is a fairly apt description for most of the lives around us. I know we've got a responsibility, because of what we can do. But I don't know the first thing about developing a support system for this."

In the next booth over, Henry overhears the pair's conversation while savoring another bite of lamb (entirely aware this was most certainly not good for him...still worth every bite, though). Normally, he would be content in his anonymity - he'd often gained valuable information that way - but the businessman has seen both of them on the news, especially the until-moments-ago shiny one.

"Sorry to eavesdrop and insert myself into the conversation, gentlemen, but there are off-the-shelf solutions to help mitigate the 'waiting for bad things to happen' part," he interjects. "Police band scanners, apps to scan live streams, even a camera-enhanced ShotSpotter system. A good system of scanners, maybe a computer algorithm to put it all together, and you can react much faster than you could before."

"Dude, all that is just fancier ways of waiting for stuff to happen," Darien replied as he turned around in the booth seat. He wasn't sure how he felt about having is conversation overheard, but that's what he got for not using telepathy. "I mean, taking it to the bad guys before they do something bad. Investigate. The last snake-dudes were not very forthcoming with information--their brains weren't exactly operating at mammalian levels, if you know what I mean."

Henry picks up his tray and invites himself to their booth as he says, "Ah, but in a free society, how can you justify apprehending a villain before he commits a crime?

"All crime fighting - be it police work or vigilantism - is always going to be reactionary to some degree," he continues, not waiting for an answer. "The key is to have the opportunity to react as soon as possible, to prevent the completion of the crime. N'est-ce pas?"
This message was last edited by the player at 17:04, Fri 17 Nov 2017.

Manmirror runs a finger through the honey on the small plate that held his baklava and carried it to his mouth. "You can't beat honey covered pastry."
"It's also illegal to beat a confession out of a guy that robbed your favorite liquor store... or so I've been told. Anyway, I think my young friend is suggesting that the crimes weren't committed solely by those that were apprehended. He wants to find out who was in charge and see that they face justice as well."
"I agree with him, but," Manmirror turns to Darien, "you must understand there is more than one path to the top of the mountain. Personally, I wouldn't know how to get there."

Manmirror must of sensed what Darien was about to say because he jumped in just at the right time. "I don't know about you guys, but if something is going down half way across town, I'm not exactly in a position to stop anything. Unless it happens near a bus stop, that is."

"You are getting riled."
"I know. Snake-faces got me all frustrated."
"Learn to accept the things you cannot change."
"Acceptance is not giving up. Once you decide that you can't win, the fight is lost."
"True, but you should not let things weigh on you to such a degree that it impacts your relationships. Or who you are."
"Fair point."

Darien snapped out of whatever thoughts he was having. "I'm just saying that being completely reactive is a losing game. You'll never be fast enough or effective enough."

"You still can't apprehend someone before they attempt to commit a crime," Henry counters. "That said, tracking down the people behind a crime is something else entirely.

"Now, as far as your getting around, that's what having friends is for," he continues, pulling a pair of cards out of his jacket pocket. Checking he has the right ones in hand, he offers one to each man. "If you gents are willing, I would like to discuss a potential...association. Neither of you are allergic to cats, I hope?"

OOC: The address is Henry's Manhattan penthouse.

Darien took the card and shrugged. "I used to be allergic to everything," he said. His life had changed so much in the past five years since that fateful day in the desert. He added, "I have nothing else going on right now."

Manmirror takes the card, looks around, and says, somewhat furtively, "don't spread it around, I gotta maintain my image. I love cats. If the landlord allowed it, I'ld have at least two of my own."

A smile creeps onto Henry's face. "On my honor, sir," he quips.

"If nine o'clock will be sufficient, I'll see you both then. Enjoy your lunch."

Manmirror takes a bite of baklava, looks at Darien, then glances around before he says, "I been telling everyone to call me Manmirror, but my name's Max. I'm probably going to take the dude up on his offer. Truth to tell, those snake dudes are the first time I felt like I was doing something right. What do you think?"

"Well, Max, do you mean right as in doing something good and noble or as in doing something well and properly?" He was only a teenager, but he spoke as someone who had lived much, much longer. "The former is easy. The latter is the tricky part. Getting bitten and poisoned didn't exactly boost my confidence in my aptitude."

"I mean right as in I didn't break anything that didn't need broken. I saw you get bit, you toughed it out better than most would. Nothing to be ashamed of, there."