Log:Night at the Museum: Serendipity

Night at the Museum 2021/08/04 Felix Kid Tengu Magda Sunbeam Grimm 3

Evan comes into the coffeehouse with a new addition to his normal gear: an umbrella! Since it's forecast to rain later.

Evan places his normal order for a number of pastries as well as an extra large Turkish coffee with two shots of espresso added. To which, when he reaches the table he adds lots of sugar and cream. He smiles brightly after taking a sip then takes out his sketch pad.

Tyson slips in behind Evan and slips into lockstep with him. He looks like he's been at the beach- though knowing KT he's really been stalking the city streets giving the wrong kind of people the worst kind of days- or in the process of a similar teardown.

"I feel like I haven't seen you in ages. What have you been up to, Ev?" The alien inquires curiously/

The red headed teen continues to smile brightly (Is he on drugs? Where is his scowl?) as he says, "Oh, let's see," he says after checking to make sure no one's listening as he ticks things off on his fingers, "since Summer and the rest have been all 'normal teen' life-zoned, I've been to the one of the human god's realms of the dead, Hel's hall to be precise, then I've been gathering shick to build creations from varius junkyards, one of which I got caught at by Magda Gutzu, you know, the immortal physics lady and philanthropist, and now trade work there for shick I can repair and restore. And I was accused of robbing a museum, which I totes would never do, so, I'm working with a detective and his assistant to find the real thief. And in practice today, I nailed a three and a half somersault so I'll be doing that at the next competition." He beams. "And, for some reason, I'm just in a really really good mood today. And I'm hoping it's real and not some messing with my mind."

Evan shrugs after one of the longest speeches you've ever heard him utter. He takes a bite of an apple pastry.

Tyson is shocked by all of these things, but is clearly very proud of his human- so much ehe doesn't even force a hug of bonding upon his friend.

"Wow! So -- Tuesday stuff then?" He says slyly but then slides into a seat across from Evan.

There he leans in and whispers, "If it's someone messing with your brains I will..." He takes a sniff to note any scents and continues. "...make sure I'm playing with theirs by tomorrow."

With that- the overprotective alien slips back into his seat and pulls the table side holo-menu to him to order.

He tries to remember what kind of coffee Tyson likes- which has been made much easier thanks to his practice with Dialydd's training.

He keys in a sugary macchiato and orders triple sprinkles.

"You need any gears greased for any of that?" Tyson asks casually, happy to help.

Evan murmurs, "Well, not that I'm aware of. I haven't heard back from the detective yet..." His voice drops to a whisper. "I should say it's a meta detective, Night Marshal. Not a CBPD one. And Ms Grimm, who was there when I was interrogated about the pawn shop shick, which led to her thinking I was behind the museum shick. Magic and tech was used to steal and replace this not really valuable bayonet."

Tyson looks over Evan, idly wondering if not hearing back yet was a good thing or not. He looks outside suspiciously, scanning the rooftops and other likely hiding spots- looking for a tail on Evan.

Tyson's alien ears pick up on the whisper easily and he nods. "Ah- I've run into him before." He says, thinking of a time he encountered the cowboy vigilante as Nightflyer.

"Not that valuable? Why steal it then? And if it wasn't that valuable- why'd they think you swiped it?" He inquires quietly.

Magda enters the coffee shop herself, although she does not look anywhere near as cheerful as Evan appears to be. She goes through the counter rigmarole, ordering her usual double shot of espresso and some sort of pastry.

"Well, 'cause apparently a mix of tech and magick is my style," Evan says, making quotation marks with his fingers as he continues to speak in a whisper, "I was lucky. If they'd shown up a few seconds sooner they'd've seen me changing back from Felix."

"As if I'd steal from a museum...unless the museum was run by thieves which the CBSU Science Museum isn't. And, I think that the original conceals something or has a message on it.," the teen continues, still in a whisper.

Evan adds in that same whisper. "And oddly, it was an exact duplicate. Not that I;ve gotten to see it since apparently stealing like that is a crime."

Magda has just recently entered the coffee shop. At a corner booth, two handsome teenage boys are having a whispered conversation. Teen romance?

Tyson chuckles. "Well, you do have a certain 'flair'- or maybe you're just getting stale in your old age." Tyson teases before cocking his head at this latest detail, bringing Magda into his periphery. "I wonder how exact -- and how many more are out there? After all, if you can make one..." The teen alien reasons as his coffee is delivered.

"Thank you." He says kindly before returning to their conversation.

Magda gains her espresso order, and glances around for a place to sit and people-watch. Unfortunately, her two favorite people-watching seats have been occupied, and so she winds up taking a table offset from where the two boys are having their conversation, although she does sit down with her back to them.

Evan gestures with his head towards Magda as she sits. In that same whispered tone, he says to Tyson, "And that's her: Magda Gutzu. She was born, I-shick-you-not, back before World War II. She's probably some kind of mutant, cause she's not magick. She's really well known."

He then adds, "And yeah, I wonder that as well, Tyson. I'm hoping I'll get a chance to see it in person."

Tyson takes a sip of his coffee and then makes a surprised face at Evan's reveal of Magda's age -- even if it's just an estimation.

"Now that -- that /is/ interesting." He says, wondering what kind of trouble she's gotten into in all that time.

A sly look slips across his face and in a heartbeat he's standing and making for the counter with various spices for use- not because there's anything wrong with the coffee,but to steal a glance at the 'well known mutant'.

He returns to his seat as if nothing had transpired.

"Well, where is it and who has access to it?" He asks, with a look on his face that says everything.

(Everything being: "Whoever it is, I'll dupe 'em and stupe 'em then we'll get in and out with no one the wiser.")

The redheaded teen started to sketch when Tyson walked away on his errand and continues to do so when the other teen returns. His whispered murmur consists of, "Science Museum high security vault. And no idea who has access. They've got good comp security."

The sketch seems to be one someone, probably a woman, in diesel punk style armor a la Buck Rogers.

Sunbeam, or rather Daisy meandered on through the coffee shop doors, leaving them open a fair touch longer than might seem necessary as she made her way in. Wrapped in her humanoid look, only a small tan bag resting at her side differentiating from the norm. For her though, the goal in here was clear. Coffee, sure. Something sweet, a bit on the large side, and a honeyed roll, whipped up and paid in card. Then... the hard part. Seating. A pair of kids over there. An almost familiar looking face to their side... Nah. For now? She made her way towards the drink fountain, standing a bit to the side as she worked on pulling up her roll. "A good day deserves a good treat..."

Magda's identity as the super(something) Korkoro is a matter of public record, revealed more than a decade ago. On balance more a hero than a villain, she is -- or at least was -- well known for ignoring legalities in favor of the moral thing. Irony of ironies, last year she taught a course, 'Ethics of a Superpowered World', not only at CBSU but also at several local high schools -- including Bayside Academy.

"Oh- now /that/ is going to be more than a smash and flash job." Tyson says quietly, turning his head to watch Daisy slip inside. Naturally the unfamiliar face prompts complex feelings of curiosity (prompting him to memorize details about the young woman for later) and paranoia (prompting him to narrow his eyes suspiciously) before turning back to Evan.

"I think I saw something about her when I first got into town- either that, or she's got a familiar face." Tyson says of Magda while using a euphemism for their arrival in thsi dimension.

She may also be sharp enough to catch the real reason behind Tyson's stroll to the counter.

Evan murmurs in his ongoing whisper, "The museum is bringing in a metallurgist to look at the replacement left for the bayonet. I wonder if it;s made by the same Fae or dwarven magickal artificer who made the silver coin that overcame the museum's security systems. There's a lot of questions, Tyson." He glances at his drawing then over at Magda.

Magda closely observes 'Daisy' as she goes about her ordering, apparently finding the girl to be of great interest. For herself, her silver hair is drawn up in complicated 'Cloud City' loops of braids -- and images of her in her combat suit (which bears some resemblance to the 'stillsuit' design from the earliest movie version of 'Dune') are easily found online.

Sunbeam, er, Daisy relished the simple sweetness of her roll for a moment, eyes drifting shut at the taste. Gentle sweetness with a touch of a syrupy bite, thin and buttery breaded pastry below, little more than heaven on earth. At least as far as baked goods might be. Though, as her gaze opened once more, sweeping back across the room it fell back upon the lady at the table. Something... Right! They taught, and were an old Hero! Right? Well, considering the town, fair odds. She took a half step over towards them, only stopping at that kid's look. A leering glare... met with confusion and slight frustration. A look that just yelled, "What?" Shot back

Tyson sniffs the air again- this time, less casually but still while maintaining the cover of a handsome teenager with attitude.

He lifts his coffee up and takes another drink to cover his sniffing.

"I wonder if we could somehow score that gig." Tyson muses as he tries to place the scent- its familiar yet wholly foreign and so he memorizes it. In the end it tells him everything he needs to know for now.

Tyson shifts in his seat to keep Daisy in his PoV. Whatever he smelled, he didn't trust it.

Evan looks over at Tyson as he takes a sniff of the air but doesn't comment. He murmurs in that same whisper, "I suppose we could. I mean, we've got the skills. But, I think Night Marshal would come down on me like a ton of brick shaped objects if I broke the law...especially as he didn't react well when I asked if stealing something that was put in place of a stolen object was a crime and he said 'Yes."

How is a person supposed to miss a gesture like that? Magda lifts one hand, palm-up, and offers a place at her table to 'Daisy'. Unlike Americans, Europeans are well known for sharing their tables with each other.

Evan continues to draw as he talks with Tyson. More details get added to the pioture such as 'Cloud City' style braids to the as yet unfinished figure's head.

Aaaand now the other kid joined in on the leering look. Daisy took a deep breath, shifting in place and pointedly looked elsewhere. "Just stupid kids...Chill," Is all she'd mutter to herself, trying to push the feeling off. Another bite of her simple pastry, and... there. Just breathe. Shaking her head, she looked back and... ah! Seems that older Hero Lady had seen her. A slow stride on over, a small smile and nod given their way in turn. "Ah, even'n! Mind if I join you? Food's always better with others you know!"

Magda nods in acknowledgment and acceptance. "Do you need any particular accommodations?" she asks the young 'woman'. The older Hero Lady remembers well Daisy and her encounter with Natasha.

Daisy would pause at Magda's question, no direct change in posture or stance, but there was still a touch of stiffness that seemed to flow over her form. But, words. Answer the lady. "Ah, n-no. I... should be good for the moment." Flashing a brief smile back as her mind reeled, the lass looked back to the seat, a low creaking heard for a moment before seeming to sit down. "Thanks. And, pardon for the bother. New places you know? Reaching out and whatnot." A shake of her head, and a dry cough later, she'd try, "The name's Daisy, by the by! I... know you seem familiar, but the name slips my mind. Pardon."

Evan continues to draw as Tyson's attention is taken away by a text from one of the theatre kids. Or so Evan supposes given that's who Tyson hangs out with usually so far as Evan knows. He adds some details to his drawing, some fantastical background details of flying cars and taller than tall spire-like buildings.

"Seems like all the more reason not to get caught- but I guess the cowboy is more sheriff than vigilante gunman." Tyson says in a disappointed whisper before taking another drink from his coffee.

He brushes his hand over one of his ears to cover it growing a bit when the obvious non-human 'woman' sits near Magda. Suspicions grow within the alien youth, but luckily he's a trained actor and master of subterfuge- and so he nods to Evan as he considers all the questions he's come up with so far.

Evan glances up at Tyson's words then whispers, "What has you on edge all the sudden? Did one of the theatre kids get bullied again?" His tone is concerned.

"Dr. Magda Gutzu," that woman introduces herself to her table guest. "We met briefly during a face-off with one of the city's more flamboyant protectors, but we were never introduced."

"They better not be- otherwise those Savage boys are going to have another visitor." Tyson says, sounding like he's got that little problem mostly under wraps.

He leans back and opens up his shirt, revealing a t-shirt that says, "See the blonde? She's not human" A daisy appears to grow into place once Tyson overhears her name at the other table.

Evan blinks for a moment at this new facet of Tyson's shapeshifting. He then nods as he whispers, "Well, this /is/ a meta hangout. Any reason to be paranoid-zoned?" The redheaded teen seems to get an idea and a diamond lozenge gets added to the armor in the sketch. It appears to be a carbon atom in the classic style.

Mouthing the words 'flamboyant protectors' Daisy looked back to Magda with a small furrow of her brow. "Ah, forgive me, that's a lot of them you know. Though..." A slight pause, and a small pause as she drew her thoughts back. "No... Natasha?" Daisy's face took on a brief expression of sadness before she shook it off. "Sorry then. That was... Ah. Don't know what got in me there you know? Just saw her and was... Well, a-anyway!" Clearing her throat, she tried to smile back, teeth only taking a half moment too long to look normal. "Glad to meet you proper-like, then! Dr. Magda, have to say I've not met too many doctors in the day to day! At least, not without appointments and whatnot. Must be quite a job though, servicing this place!"

That question seems to strike Tyson as strange. It seems he spends so much time on guard, he's forgotten that sometimes he can take it down a notch.

He opens his mouth as if to answer the question, but he doesn't have one for Evan, so he closes it.

"You mean 'specifically'? Well... no. I guess not. Not specifically." He takes a sip of his coffee and then purses his lips, seemingly taking a lesson from the moment- or at least trying to.

Then again, survival of the fittest is rarely 'survival of the guy who thought that branch was just a branch'- nature pushed towards paranoia, so the man who jumps before confirming the snake more often than not passes on his genes.

Tyson chuckles the thought away and says, "This is why you humans would be lost without me."

Magda smiles a little. "To my certain knowledge," she says, "I have no local heroes as patients. My practice runs to psychology and psychiatry, though, not meta-medicine."

Evan smirks slightly as he whispers, "I'm trying to put my therapy lessons to work, Tyson. She says I'm too paranoid for my age. Which given what she knows of my 'history' is certainly true. I'll be glad when they're over. Stupid rules of the school. Therapy cause /I'm/ self-destructive for not avoiding the meatheads? Really?" He shakes his head in irritation."

"Oh! Right, right. Title Doctor, not... Right." Daisy stepped back over her words again with a faint shake of her head. "Sorry about the mixup! Still, sounds pretty fascinating to be honest. Me, I'm just in Construction. For now at least." Another bite to her treat, the last of it vanishing away beneath those teeth before she tried to find words again. "Mhmm, hope I've not taken the seat or so though, not waiting on anyone were you?"

Magda laughs softly. "No no -- a psychiatrist must be a doctor of medicine as well, so that is true too. Not," she adds after a sip of her espresso, "that I don't have a couple dozen other doctorates as well. Construction!! Oh, excellent. Designers and theoreticians tend to overlook the practical wisdom found at the work site. I may well ask you some questions -- all right, many questions -- in the future. And no, not waiting on anyone; simply people watching." A small smile graces her lips. "And listening."/

"Yes yes- as long as it's just for show." Tyson says with a frown. "Can't have that school-appointed shrink dulling your edge. Imagine if you had the feelings they are trying to cling to you? It's a wonder any of them get out of bed if they're all so fragile."

He sighs and looks out the window watching the humans go past.

"Still they've built some world here- meatheads and all. Soft and squirmy on the inside... heroes on the outside." He says in his usual 'still cannot believe it' manner.

He looks back to Evan and asks, "So how many more weeks of this Beta-business with the therapist?"

"Until school starts...then probably more once I fall into some meathead's fist again," he whispers. He shrugs then continues, "It's just the way it is. The nups mean well, it's just that they don't, won't have the full sitch. Gives me someone to practice my lying on at worst."

Evan then starts to add in the face on the figure he's been working on. Tyson can see that it's Mage, but with a look of fierce joy on her face.

It would be Daisy's turn to laugh, a single deep bark of laughter at Magda's words, "Ha! Not quite so high in the field unfortunately. One day I'll get up there, but right now, just need something to pay the bills, you know?" A wry smile touched her lips as she looked back, "Though, feel free to ask away! Not certain how much I could tell you, but still. Sometimes an outside perspective helps. People Watching though huh? Common hobby from what I hear. Any interesting rumors crop up?" Another slight pause, broken by a softer basey chuckle, "Granted, not much in this town that isn't interesting."

Through the window, a light rain starts to blow in from the bay. Despite the forecast, as always, many people are caught without umbrellas.

Magda shrugs. "A possible meta-involved break-in at the science museum the other night," she tells the young 'woman'. "They've asked me to come in and inspect some eighteenth-century spearhead that was disturbed. Metallurgy," she adds dryly, "was my very first doctorate."

Tyson bristles at that. He often fakes being weaker for the sake of his human persona but these shapes are meaningless to him. He has a hard time accepting his humans being treated so.

"Bah." He says before relenting because there is undeniable logic in the answer- even if he doesn't like it.

He leans over to get a better look at Evan's drawing and makes a face that shows he's clearly impressed.

Evan blinks at something he overhears then he looks over at Magda. He glances, for some reason, down at his left ankle then up at Tyson. "Did you hear that, Tyson?" he whispers. "Dr Gutzu is the metallurgist giong to the museum. I may have to make a sacrifice to the gods of luck."

Whistling for a moment, Daisy would seem to lean back in her chair, "Goodness. Maybe not the most exciting stuff, but still. Always nice when we get to put some of our first passions into something you know? Though, a spearhead? Why the heck would they want an old spearhead? Surely there are better ones out there nowadays. More appropriate compounds and gunk. Er, alloys. Whatever."

Tyson blinks absently, then his eyes widen a bit in surprise as the realization seems to dawn on him. "I did- and cannot believe your luck." He says with a nod.

"I may have to have you make one of those sacrifices for me too- becuase that's incredible. So how do you turn that to your advantage?" He asks wryly.

Magda shrugs. "Undoubtedly there are," she states, "but I am not privy to the details of the break-in, just that they want someone qualified to examine the item.?

Evan holds up the drawing then says in a whisper, "Wanna introduce me? You're better at the social graces than I am."

Daisy would shrug for a moment, simply closing her eyes and resting there, listening to the sudden draw of rain outside, the pitter patter of people running outside, the smell of the small sweets and the overwhelming aroma of coffee... "Mhmm, Well, I hope that you make a lead in it then, no?"

Tyson shrugs and with a smirk moves to stand up and get to making cordial introductions.

"Excuse me, Misses Gutzu? I don't mean to interrupt- I just wanted to say 'Hi', and introduce my friend and I. We're looking forward to taking one of your classes now that we're old enough." Tyson says before pointing to Evan. "This is Evan, and I'm Tyson."

He smiles warmly and even gives Daisy a wave and completely leaves the narrowed eyes back at his table.

Magda looks up at the young men's interruption. "It would be 'Doctor' or 'Professor'," she corrects Tyson. "If, strictly speaking, we are going off my state of wedlock, it would be 'Miss' -- though I prefer 'mademoiselle'. McMasters and, mmm, Welles? From Bayside. Unfortunately I am not offering the class this upcoming year, but I have occasionally considered hosting a weekly forum."

Evan murmurs in a faintly Scots tinged West Coast accent, "I've read your most recent article on quantum bonding. It was fascinating, if a just a bit beyond my full comprehension. I got a bit lost in the maths." He then holds out the drawing he's been working on to Magda. "This is for you."

Turning towards the two approaching lads, Daisy would move back, shimmying herself and her chair a few inches back from them. After that though, she'd give a faint smile and nod back to the two as they spoke to the Doctor. Doctor of many titles it seems. "My goodness, ah, Yeah. Hi." A hand raised, but nothing more, her own eyes turned towards the coffee once more, a debate of drinks... And totally not focusing on the no longer leering folk. Nope.

Tyson seems to have gotten what he wanted- otherwise why else would he have used the wrong honorific?

The alien shifter pivots, "I'm sorry- Mademoiselle Gutzu. I guess I've been summering extra hard this year." He gives his most disarming smile before letting it break at the news about the classes not being offered this year.

"Oh." He says before nodding in time for Evan to take advantage of the opening.

He falls quiet it seems just in time for his PDA to beep urgently thanks to the tentacle he's sprouted in his pocket hitting the ringer switch.

"Excuse me one second." He says before stepping away to answer his phone.

Evan nods politely to Daisy. "Sorry to interrupt your conversation, ma'am," he murmurs before returning the bulk of his attention to Magda.

Magda takes the sketch and looks it over for a few moments, nodding in approval, though she does not have the knowledge base necessary for full appreciation. "You have some amount of skill, Mr. McMasters," she states, then lifts her eyebrows at his choice of reading material. "Careful," she says in a quiet voice. "None of that paper was written with the hobbyist in mind. That is the sort of mistake that will give away the level of your intellect." She regards the youth for a moment, and then asks, "Would you like to tell me the real reason for manufacturing this encounter?"

Evan blinks at Magda's words then smiles slightly. "I wasn't dewy eyes enough was I? Awkward enough? I should've been more geeky, aye?" He then adds. "Or maybe put more effort into fooling a psychiatrist. Hmm."

The teen then continues, "I have information about the robbery...and a favor to ask."

Looking back over the rather... strange turn of the conversation, Daisy wouldn't say anything, just following the conversation enough was a task between the pair of them. Topics of intellect, of capacity, manufactured encounters and the robbery. The robbery? Were popcorn on hand, she'd have some. Instead, a simple bemused and confused curiosity lit up her face.

"Nothing to do with psychiatry," Magda states. "Simply experience and intimate knowledge of the topic at hand." She tilts her head at Evan's offer, and replies, "Break-in. Be precise whenever you can. To be entirely honest, I do not want to know any such details as of yet; when approaching a subject of examination, one should have ... the mind at its beginning, as it were. No potentially prejudicial information. What is the favor?"

"Well, I'd like to see the bayonet as well. To see if it matches in any way to the, hmm, devices used in the break-in," says the redheaded teen in a cheerful voice. "I'm, hmm, well, I was accused of the break-in. Without cause mind you as I was at home working on something." He slides a slip of paper onto the table. "If you could think it over, I know a couple of metas who'd appreciate it. And me as well." He flashes a smile again.

The gesture to bring the paper into her hand is the same as what Magda uses for much of her power, but it is no longer only electromagnetics at her beck and call. She looks at the slip for a moment, then glances at Daisy. "What do you think?" she asks the other female.

The slip holds the names Ms Grimm and Night Marshal. And a phone number with the name Evan after it.

"Think? Mostly that Robberies are beyond my skill set. But... " Daisy paused for a moment, looking between the three and back at the page with a faint furrow of her brow, "Beyond that, it would be hard to figure out much of what happened without being where it happened. You said people get stuck in Theory too much Magda, yes? This is one of those times." Folding up her napkin, slowly, the lass would shrug and smile, "If you did commit the robbery, it would not be wise to ask the investigator about it unless you are very brazen. So, for now? Trust, and go to see what you are working with. That's my thoughts."

Magda hmmms for a few moments. "In exchange," she tells Evan, "after my examination I will have questions of my own -- why you were suspected, that sort of thing. However, what do you bring to the workbench? Do you have knowledge of metallurgy? Or can provide a viewpoint I am not likely to possess?"

Evan looks over at Daisy then back to Magda. He then murmurs, "I have a different set of skills than you, mam'selle Gutzu, while also having an overlap, if lesser, of similar knowledge as you. I also, likely, perceive, hmm, reality in a different way than you. And yes, I am a metallurgist and, despite my lack of calluses, a weaponsmith, even. So, there is that." He shrugs. "And I've no problems with questions. Although, if too close to the bone, I might have to answer 'I'm sorry I cannot tell you that.'"

Evan smiles slightly. "Yes, I do, mam'selle Gutzu. It's where I first met you when I attended an open house for young scholars." He gestures at his printed t-shirt and hoodie. "I was dressed better then. And combed my hair. How should I dress for tomorrow?"

Magda smiles slightly. "Think of it as a job interview," she suggests, "whether for me or for the museum. So dress better. And comb your hair."

Evan nods. "Got it. Nice suit jacket, pressed pants, button down shirt. All neat and proper like I'm going before an academic honesty committee but without the school uniform or vague smell of hypocrisy in the air of the room." His lips curl up in something resembling a smile.

A deep rumble of a chuckle would be drawn from Daisy at that, a hand waved to the side. "Nah, that's just the disinfectant. Museums smell like that all the time. Still, hopefully ya'll can figure out something about that robbery then hmm? I'm curious to see how it turns out."

"Oh, there'll be plenty of hypocrisy in the air," Magda replies with some amusement. "Just make sure it neither comes from nor sticks to you. Trust me, it may cause problems in the short term, but it will save you plenty of grief in the future."

Evan shrugs. "Never stuck so far." He looks over where Tyson is talking on his PDA. "I'll go collect Tyson, and get him to his house. Looks like drama with the theatre kids." He nods politely to you both as he murmurs, "Thank you, mam'selle Gutzu, Ms Daisy, you all have a bonnie day!" The teen then goes to collect Tyson and heads out.

Late Afternoon, a text from M. Gutzu: Told you are investigating Sci Museum break-in w/ N. Marshal. Been requested to examine item. Evan McMasters coming along. Care to join?

Gabrielle checks her phone while at a bar with Agent Baker, talking Gamma shop stuff. She texts back: Interesting. Evan McMasters was one of the suspects. I was working with the police on that case. How'd you get involved?

'So he said, which is why I said yes -- and gave him a time half an hour after I am due to examine the piece. Museums are educational, G -- they get a fair chunk of cash from me, globally speaking. And metallurgy was my very first discipline -- get the rich devil you know. Police == Det. Carpenter? Bring him along. Show @ 1:45.'

A followup a few moments later: 'At the museum. Not at my place. Which is where Mr. McMasters is to arrive @ 2:30.'

Gabrielle texts back: Yeah, Carpenter's the one assigned to the case. I did some investigating on my own to confront Evan. I'll let Carpenter know. We should be there unless he's got a work emergency.

'See you tomorrow, then. Enjoy your beer.'

Gabrielle squints and replies back: Wait, how'd you know about the beer?

'Deduction from the routing address, and that you do beer, not liquor. Tomorrow.'

Gabrielle blinks at her phone. Part of her wants to hurl it into the ocean, because if Magda can sense where she is with it, so can some villains. She finally texts back: I don't do liquor this early. Usually. Tomorrow.

Magda flicks her gaze over the complex electronic information when the response arrives. A slight smile is on her lips; for all their tech today, people forget so easily what goes into it. Of course, they'd have to have the girl's number, the computer chops to jailbreak the system's information, and the desire to do it ... not to mention the sheer capacity necessary to absorb and process information as Magda does, which few others have. She leaves the response as-is; Gabrielle deserves to get the last word in.