The Dragon's Den

WHO: Benedict and Plain
WHAT: Benedict seeks directions from Deacon Plain and gets introduced to a new religion as well.
WHERE: El Barrio - Manhattan
WHEN: May 18
NOTES: I wasn't certain if I would post logs here or not but in the interest of adding to the little content that's here I present Bennie's first scene.

The twisting alleys and sidestreets of this part of town are never easy for newcomers to navigate. Fortunately for him, the man with the stack of pamphlets in his arm is no newcomer. He's fairly handsome, in decent shape, and wears simple, black clothes, a button down shirt and slacks - for those familiar with the religion, he seems to be dressed like an off-duty priest, only without the white collar. Every once in a while, he pauses at a convenient spot to place a small stack of pamphlets, then moves on.

Benedict is indeed a newcomer, though he doesn't exactly look to have fallen off the back of a turnip truck. Still, world-weary or not, it doesn't help him with the winding streets any. He's been wandering awhile now and though he's not in any great hurry to get anywhere, by his third time down the same stretch of street, he's getting impatient for some progress here. There don't appear to be many approachable types willing to give directions to lost tourists, so when Benedict spots a man who looks a little more approachable than most, he jogs casually across the street to catch up. "Excuse me, uh, Father?" Coming up from behind, it isn't until too late that he notices the lack of collar causing him to hesitate slightly in his address.

Plain turns from his latest pamphlet-placement and glances at Benedict. Despite the apparent mistaken liturgical rank, he smiles warmly. "Deacon, please. Deacon Plain. How may I help you, sir?" At this point, Benedict can clearly see the bright pastel pamphlets in his hand, and make out the biggest font - "UMCC - The United Mutant Church of Christ".

"Ah, my mistake," Benedict says flatly, nodding his head as he makes note of the correction. "I was wondering if you could perhaps point me in the direction of, well, anywhere but here. Times Square would be a good start. Or the nearest bar." It's now that he truly notices the pamphlets, having taken note and disregarded them earlier. Canting his head a little to one side, he quickly reads the large font before his expression shuts off and becomes even more inscrutable.

Plain continues to smile warmly. "Ah, you're actually pretty close." He points to a cross-street. "If you head to that street and take a left, you can follow it to Central Park... from there, you can find signs to Times Square pretty easily." He does notice Benedict's eyes traveling to the pamphlets, so he plucks one off the top of the stack and offers it forward. "I don't suppose you're interested in hearing more about the United Mutant Church of Christ?"

Benedict's steely gaze looks off down the street, mentally following the directions as they're given. When he's made a note of it, he gives a short nod of comprehension. "Left, Central Park, got it." It is pretty easy to get. His eyes return to Plain as he's offered a pamphlet. There's some hesitation before he reaches to take it. "United Mutant Church of Christ. That's a new one." It neither a yay nor nay on hearing more about it, but rather a humourless observation.

Plain nods in agreement. "Well, mutants aren't exactly old hat, are they?" He continues to proffer the pamphlet. Aside from the ugly pastel shading - all religious pamphlets come in ridiculous pastel colors, it's just a rule - it looks pretty nicely laid out, as if someone put a lot of thought into it. "If you are interested, you can take a pamphlet, or I can answer any questions you have."

"That's the rumour," Benedict replies in a non-committal tone about mutants. Certainly he wouldn't know from personal experience is the implied undertone. But he does shrug and then agree to at least taking the pamphlet, silent as he gives it a cursory once over. And then lifting his gaze, he asks tersely, "So what's the catch?" There's enough cynicism in his tone to suggest he's too familiar with organized religion, but no outright hostility.

Plain continues to maintain that warm, friendly smile. If it's fake, he's apparently good at faking it, since it certainly looks sincere. "Catch? Depends if you call fulfilling the will of the Lord, Our God a 'catch.'" He chuckles slightly. "If you mean our beliefs... well, we of the UMCC believe that mutantkind is more than a mere biological coincidence. Only God could have granted mere mortals such powers - and it is our goal to determine how, through prayer and studying of the Scripture, God means for us to use his Gifts."

"I might. Depends on what fulfilling his will these days entails," Benedict replies without a trace of humor. But as Plain speaks, he does listen like the good little Catholic boy he was raised. "So finally religion has come up with its newest argument against evolution," he muses, not particularly directing that towards Deacon Plain or expecting an answer. There's a grudging sort of respect to it. "Still, a bunch of mutants, organizing together, that has to be setting off a few alarm bells."

Plain waves a hand dismissively. "Now, now, we -are- a modern faith. We have no problem accepting the findings of science - even the -Catholics- recognize that if God created everything, that includes natural laws." There's something about the way he says "Catholics" - he's trying to keep his tone polite, but even behind that mask of propreity, the word drips with malice and disgust, an unsettling break from his otherwise friendly demeanor. "As for setting off bells... well, the 'United' part is admittedly a bit of more hope than reality. There aren't all that many who embrace the UMCC's teachings just yet."

He doesn't miss the change in tone as Catholicism is brought up, and though the change is slight, his expression does change to one of mild curiosity. Still Benedict seems reluctant to fully engage, instead choosing to remain on the periphery of the conversation. "It sounds like a hard sell. As I understand it, your target audience isn't one looking to reveal themselves as... followers of such a faith."

Plain renews his smile. "Hence the pamphlets." He gestures to the stack in his arm. "They provide a listing of the basic tenets of the faith, so that even those reluctant to join a community effort can, at the very least, have some guidance as they seek God in their own lives." He glances around, verifying that the two of them are alone for the moment. "...Of course, a show of solidarity every now and again never hurts." And with that, Plain outstretches his free arm... and it begins to glow. Not particularly brightly, but there's a definite, visible glow to it, a yellowish-white color. "I am not ashamed of my Gift."

Benedict flips the pamphlet around to confirm that in fact the tenets are there, though he still hasn't committed to the extent of actually reading the information. Instead, he looks back up with a nod, his brow furrowing as Plain holds out the glowing arm. "But you still checked to make sure no one else was looking," he points out though he doesn't seem to care too much about proving his point. "I'd heard there were a lot of mutants here." He might not be so casual about tossing around the M-word in public but it's already been confirmed they're alone and that particular discretion seems silly when he's holding a flyer with the word right on it.

There are indeed tenets there, most with obscure Bible quotes to back them up. Plain smirks. "I can be -discreet- without being ashamed. And not every passerby is as... reasonable as you or I." He tilts his head slightly as he looks at Benedict. "Of course, you don't seem to be flappable in the slightest." The glow in his arm goes out.

"I've been around. Seen weirder things than that," Benedict understates the matter. "Grew up in Jersey," he adds, actually cracking a joke, can it be? And yes, there's the slightest hint of a smile as the corners of his mouth twitch upwards almost like a tick. And then he's back to that lack of expression. "Still, can't say I fault you for not wanting to tell the world. Of course, Deacon of a Mutant church, people might make the logical leap on their own. Doesn't worry you? People being suspicious?"

Plain shrugs lightly. "I don't generally go shouting my message to huge crowds at once. Individually, I find most people are intelligent enough about the subject, if approached the right way. It's the mob mentality that results in... well, some of those ridiculous riots we've had lately." He sighs sadly. "Almost like the Israelites in Egypt... God's Chosen never walk an easy path. But I am fortunate enough - my Gift is not only under my control, but also hardly frightening. I wish I could say the same for the rest of our kind..." Does Plain include Benedict in that 'our'? It's hard to say.

"I've known some pretty messed up individuals," Benedict observes and again there's that sense that he's understating matters. "But I've been fortunate enough to avoid riots. Read about them in the papers though." And yet he still chose to come here. Ben lifts an eyebrow slightly, wondering the same thing about whether it's an inclusive 'our' being bandied about, but he doesn't rush in to deny. "I've heard of some that are pretty frightening, yes. Not the sort of thing likely to sway those who think it's too dangerous." He might not deny, but he won't come right out and confirm either, sticking to vague generalizations that are probably all too transparent.

Plain smiles briefly, as if to relieve the tension of the moment. "But it is because I am so lucky that I consider it my duty to spread the Word as much as possible. When faced with despair, many turn from God and use His Gifts selfishly, for evil purposes. The more hearts the UMCC can reach, the fewer souls will abandon God and succumb to temptation." He thumps his little stack of pamphlets. "If I even help a little bit, I am proud of that."

"Seems to me what's meant to be a gift often turns out to be more of a burden," Benedict notes passively, regarding Plain with that inscrutable gaze once more. "You've got your work cut out for you then." The pamphlet gets a final look before he precisely folds it once in half and sticks it in his back pocket. "You pick up many doing this? The pamphlets, chatting up the everyman on the streets?"

Plain nods solemnly at Benedict's first statement. "I won't deny it. But it is the Oppressors - the ones who scorn us, who try to restrict us simply because we are different - who turn these Gifts into a burden, not God." To Benedict's questions, he smiles faintly. "I'm sure you can imagine that I get mixed results. If I'm lucky, they'll stay and chat, and I'll get a chance to explain myself. If I'm REALLY lucky, they'll attend the occaisonally sermon or prayer meeting. All too often, I just have to hope that my words at least gave them fodder to think and pray about."

"I bet that one's a popular view. Maybe you should open with that," Benedict suggests of blaming it on the Oppressors. "But some of us, we make our own burdens. I'm not oppressed." He says it simply as a matter of fact, lifting his shoulders in an ambivalent shrug. He considers the response to his questions before nodding. "Then I guess today was a lucky day for you." There's a pointedness to him not stating it a REALLY lucky day, implying he's not personally planning on attending any sermons or meetings.

Plain smiles. He saw that Benedict kept the pamphlet, and he had a civil conversation. He's had this go worse. Much worse, in fact. "I guess so. Well, if you ever have any questions, just ask around for Deacon Plain. I'm always open for discussion."

"I'll keep that in mind, thanks," the man replies with a simple nod, before offering a polite hand to shake. "It was nice to meet you, Deacon Plain. I'm Benedict, by the way." He might not be the warmest sort but he was clearly raised to have some manners, especially towards clergy.

Plain shakes Benedict's hand back, firmly and politely. "A pleasure to meet you, Benedict. God be with you."

"Thank you," Benedict replies succinctly. "Now, it's a left and through the park, correct?" But he doesn't bother waiting for confirmation before he starts off in that direction.