Log:A Question of Art

2019/02/10 Talia Amara Jak

1

It's late morning. The sun is shining and clouds drift over head, dotting the blue sky with hazy gray clouds. The streets and sidewalks have patches of wet on them, drying up from the early morning rain. It's warm, with a cool breeze to make one comfortable with only light layers.

The shopping district has yet to get too busy with tourists and shoppers, but this is the best time to start thrift shopping and running errands. One never knows what they'll find in the stores around here. Or what stores will be found. They open and close quickly, springing up and shuttering due to the gentrification and rising leases. Many a hidden gem, long mainstays of the area, have eventually gone extinct.

Such a fate has happened to Talia's favorite breakfast/brunch restaurant for pre-shopping fuel. She stands before its location on the sidewalk, but the restaurant has since been redesigned into some sort of art gallery, full of paintings and sculptures in an open floor design with several pedastals and stands.

Two things are peculiar. One...she recognizes one of those statues looks suspiciously like an ancient artifact. And two, she notices Amara arguing with one of the docents over another statue that looks neo-modern.

Talia was going to get a cinnamon strawberry bagel with cream cheese and extra lox. She's had a busy week and definitely got in more than her quota of exercise; she's earned her sweet and smoky treat.

WHERE. IS. HER. SWEET. AND. SMOKY. TREAT?!

In the middle of her slow build toward rage, Talia blinks. Her head swivels so that she can focus her gaze on a particularly (peculiarly) interesting object on display in the midst of this offensive gallery. Talia cocks her head to one side, lips pursing in intense consternation as she tries to figure out where she's seen that aged, weathered statue before. Was it in the Journal of Achaeology? No, no. Social Science Review Letters?

A flash of metal in the light catches Talia's attention next. Her head swivels ot focus on Amara in profile, silently voicing her vehement objections to the display of another statue. What in the world could be so offensive about such a bland statue?

Completely intrigued, Talia strolls into the gallery and peers at Amara. Her head remains slightly cocked to one side as she shamelessly eavesdrops on the argument.

"But it's -ours-," Amara debates with the male docent in a cross, lightly accented voice. "Why should We pay for what you have stolen?"

"This belongs to our collection. It's not for sale," a man in a suit uniform insists.

"It most certainly doesn't belong," Amara huffs as she reaches out to the pedestal and grabs the base of the statue, which has a mix of holograms and moving clockwork parts combined with an organic shape. Abstract doesn't even begin to explain the strange piece.

"Miss, I'm going to have to call the police!" the docent warns as he grabs the statue opposite Amara, trying to pull it back.

"Thief!" Amara sharply accuses the docent.

"Miss, you are the one stealing!" the docent argues back.

"Considering who she is," comments Talia, folding her arms across her chest, "Maybe you ought to call the cops. I'm sure they'd very much like to hear you explain why an art gallery is displaying an artifact that belongs in a cultural museum nowhere near here. Not to mention whatever it is you've got from her people."

"I...I'm getting the owner!" the docent threatens, and starts to march away urgently.

"Yes, bring him," Amara commands, having waited for that all along. "Tcha, making me wait like that." She turns towards Talia and suddenly smiles as she recognizes the person who backed her up. "Ohhh, it's you."

"Well I'm sure you didn't properly introduce yourself," comments Talia, smiling at Amara. She offers a fist for a celebratory fistbump before looking back at the neo modern artifact. Clucking her tongue, Talia cocks her head to one side as she considers it seriously for several moments. "This is a lot older than it looks, isn't it?"

Amara smiles in amusement at Talia's comments. "I believe I said something to the effect of, 'As Queen Amara of Riddersholm, I demand you return what was stolen', but I don't think he believed me." And that's probably not so surprising, as she's wearing plain clothes. Well, not armor or regal clothes. But normal looking tight black leggings, brown laced knee-high boots, a sleeveless knitted olive green tunic with a built-in cowl, and a white long coat that's form fitting but looks light for the winter.

She bumps fists in return, having been taught this by Jak. "Yes, it's several centuries old. Reported missing after Mechanon's attack crippled my Kingdom. So imagine my surprise seeing it here."

"Well you don't exactly cut a royal figure at the moment," notes Talia.

After completing the fistbump, Talia folds her arms across her chest again. She returns to investigating the Riddersholm artifact without actually touching it, a curious expression playing across her features as she muses over it. Talia absently circles around the pedestal once or twice, investigating as best she can.

"That's a really cute outfit," adds Talia, smiling, "Very cute long coat."

The sculpture is bizarre and abstract. But beautifully intricate. Lots of fine moving and floating parts.

"Oh? Thank you. What brought you in here? You mentioned an item belonging to a cultural museum?" Amara asks. In the back area, there's some urgent hushed conversation as the docent explains things to someone unseen.

"There was a nice brunch place here a couple of weeks ago, I was hoping to get a bagel and lox."

Talia sighs softly and shakes her head, gesturing with her chin toward another statue some distance away. Her eyes shift from one statue to the other, a thoughtful expression on her face. She chews lightly on her lower lip, green eyes looking over at Amara after a few moments of thought.

"I was standing outside when I noticed an artifact on display. Then I saw you arguing with that docent, so I figured that I'd step in and see if I couldn't figure out what's happening."

"Bagel and lox is a nice brunch item? But that sounds so...simple," Amara says as if the concept is a let down. Of course a queen would think that. She turns her head to follow Talia's chin-pointing. "An artifact? I assume it's not supposed to be here, either?"

"It's very familiar to me, but I can't quite seem to place it," replies Talia. She purses her lips again, racking her brain to try to remember where she's seen the artifact before - or perhaps to place its name and origin. Talia shifts her weight, moving to one side of the Riddersholm artifact as she ponders. "Artifacts like these don't generally show up in art galleries."

It's late morning. The sun is shining and clouds drift over head, dotting the blue sky with hazy gray clouds. The streets and sidewalks have patches of wet on them, drying up from the early morning rain. It's warm, with a cool breeze to make one comfortable with only light layers.

The shopping district has yet to get too busy with tourists and shoppers, but this is the best time to start thrift shopping and running errands. One never knows what they'll find in the stores around here. Or what stores will be found. They open and close quickly, springing up and shuttering due to the gentrification and rising leases. Many a hidden gem, long mainstays of the area, have eventually gone extinct.

Amara and Talia are standing inside an art gallery, full of paintings and sculptures in an open floor design with several pedastals and stands. One of the foot-high sculptures looks suspiciously like an ancient artifact. Another statue that looks neo-modern is near Amara and Talia. It's a mix of holograms and moving clockwork parts combined with an organic shape. Abstract doesn't even begin to explain the strange piece. But it's definitely of Riddersholm origin.

Jak Venture is a man of many talents- well, two, three if you count his super power. In any event, these three often conspire to put Jak in situations most people would never find themselves in but also provide many opportunity for both fun and profit.

Some mornings though are perfectly void of anyhting other than the same old sources of entertainment.

After hustling up a few American credits in the Central Park on a couple of games of Chess, Jak gets some grub and checks his personal feeds. Still nothing. A couple of games of cards and the like but nothing thrilling.

That brought him to 'Duty' which prompted him to 'pop-in' on his favorite Royal.

Jak pops his jacket's collar and then vanishes from his perch high above New York City.

In the span of nanoseconds, Jak arrives- popping into place with a flash of light. Amara recognizes that look. He's bored.

Amara hardly reacts when Jak pops into existence next to her. She's accustomed to it. It's only resulted in an embarrassing incident twice so far. Any other person would be imprisoned for seeing what Jak saw.

The owner of the gallery starts to walk out from the back with the docent, but he hesitates as Jak suddenly apparates into the establishment.

Talia startles when Jak appears. She jerks away from him, eyes wide as she puts her hands up in a defensive position. Her stormy sea green eyes lock with the gallery owner for a second or two as he hesitates.

After a few seconds, Talia seems to calm down as she realizes that Jak isn't about to start killing everyone. She breathes out heavily and reaches out to sock Jak in the shoulder.

"Don't do that! You're liable to get killed like that."

Jak apologized a thousand times over for both occasions and swore to never discuss them with anyone. Especially REDACTED.

And that one REDACTED when she REDACTED.

Jak's eyes are scanning his immediate vacinity- purposefully averting his eyes from the area Amara is in so he can avoid any further REDACTED.

Jak's eyes are quite naturally oscured by his RidTek blackout sunglasses. He looks over them after being socked gently. Not hard enough to trigger his personal forcefield so Jak just smirks. "I didn't mean to startle you ma'am. My apologies." He says, clearly only meaning it to the limits politeness requires but not enough to change his behavior in any way.

Luckily, Talia is dressed so that means the Queen is too! He turns and grins at Amara, giving a half covered wink to the Regent of Riddersholm. "So what's up, Q?" He asks her curiously, that is until his eyes set on the object she was looking at. "Ooooh." He seems surprised to see whatever it is. There's recognition of it being familiar, the way an Etruscan might recognize a bronze scupture as familiar- not necessarily the make/model/creator/etc.

"I'm trying to reclaim one of our stolen art pieces," Amara explains, shooting a sharp glance at the gallery owner. The man appears to be in his early thirties, dark brown hair, clean cut, wearing a suit jacket, a plaid shirt with the collar unbuttoned, and khaki slacks with sneakers. The man is just...slimy in some way.

"Hey, hey, these were consigned to us by some of the biggest up and coming artists on the East coast," he says in defense of his business.

"So you're saying that this isn't one of the Han Dynasty bronzes stolen from a Belgian museum five years ago?"

Talia gestures with one hand toward the bronze statue of a prancing horse. She arches a red eyebrow inquiringly, her lips pursed in a manner that suggests that she is utterly unconvinced of the gallery owner's story about consignment. Or, perhaps, more to the point, Talia is utterly unmoved by the story. A stolen artifact is a stolen artifact, after all.

Jak begins to understand exactly what's going on based off of Amara's poised response and Talia's pointed accusation. She clearly knows her stuff. He doesn't expect anything less of someone who the Queen is working with.

He simply nods, sizing up the place to see what his haphazardly honed smuggler senses are telling him about this place- if anything. Afterall, he's moved plenty of illegal cargo- including art back in the day. At least he might know the channels one might acquire something like this illegally and back Talia's claims up a bit. Of course, those tides move fast so he may not have anything current.

"That is exactly what I'm saying," the greasy gallery owner states with smug certainty.

Amara narrows her eyes, unamused. "I know for certain that this piece," she jerks a thumb to the Riddersholm sculpture, "is not created by one of your people. Nor was it for sale to the likes of you."

Jak recognizes the bronze horse statue that Talia refers to. In fact, it was one of several items he helped move from a fence in Rotterdam, getting them to New York since they were too hot for the European market.

Talia's eyebrow quirks further upward at the flat denial. Her arms fold across her chest again, lips pursing sourly as she studies the slimeball that owns the gallery.

"So you have documentation of this piece's provenance?"

Jak double takes at the bronze horse statue. Interrupting the man if necessary. "Actually... I remember that piece." He says looking over his glasses at it. "That reminds me to check in with your Rotterdam hook. I'll have to let him know you're drawing a lot of flak by causing a ruckus over a single piece. These two are connected connected. It's definitely not worth it, man. Just imagine- Feds all over, smacking down supeonas and confiscating your peices. That's bad for business. That's bad for everyone. Instead- you could just ... maybe help us out of this little 'clerical issue', and we'll consider it a favor. That sounds much better- don't you think?" Jak start wheeling and dealing immediately now that he's got something worth trading.

The gallery owner takes out his phone and starts texting on it. "I don't owe you any documentation unless you're planning on purchas--" he starts, getting cut off by Jak's sudden interruption. As Jak talks, he looks increasingly uneasy. Is that a bit of sweat breaking out on his brow?

"For both pieces," Amara reminds sharply.

The owner looks at the trio as he stops texting. His eye twitches slightly.

"...take them and don't come back here," he grumbles.

Talia frowns at Jak's wheeling and dealing. She starts to say something, but trails off as Amara and the gallery owner come to an agreement. Naturally the frowning intensifies as Talia tightens her arms in their crossed position over her chest. It promptly causes her biceps and triceps to bulge under her hoodie, the fabric creaking in ominous protest as her yoke shows a bit more prominently than she intended.

"Fine," asserts Talia in an icy tone. Recovering two relics is better than recovering none, she supposes.

The World's Most Dashing Vagabond sparks a grin as his terms are met without even so much as a counter-offer. "Aww- don't be cross man. I just saved you a world of pain- not to mention your business." He give him a fingergun salute as he adds, "You're a good guy." After speaking to the patron Jak turns to Amara and Talia.

"Back to the thr--- err, your place?" He inquires as he steps towards the first piece he saw ready to teleport it away.

He notes just how Talia's clothing fights to restrain her angry muscles.

"We should return the artifacts," Amara agrees with Jak. She looks to Talia, not wanting to leave her alone with the shady gallery owner. "Come with us? We'll return you shortly to return your artifact as well," she promises with a smile.

Talia moves to the bronze statue and collects it with a moderate grunt of exertion. Her muscles strain against the task as she hoists the bronze horse aloft and moves toward Jak, Amara, and the Riddersholm relic. She casts a smoldering, malicious glance toward the gallery owner as she steps up alongside the others.

"Fine. Let's get out of here before I do something else that I regret," growls Talia.

"That'a girl. Sounds like we just won without even having to shoot anyone." Jak grins, reaching out and touching Talia's shoulder.

Once Amara touches either the Riddersholm artifact or Talia, he'll zap them straigh to the Palace throne room.

Amara rests a hand on Talia and the Riddersholm art piece. The trio get teleported into the throne room, which looks quaintly medieval, but instead of worn stone, everything looks new. Rather than torches, there are floating light orbs. There's tapestries bearing the royal arms of Riddersholm, and a raised dais with an impressive throne that has points of gold radiating out from it like rays of a sun.

A startled cry comes from one of the cleaning droids when the trio arrive, until it realizes it's Jak and his nonsense again! "What have we told about--oh my sparks! Queen Amara, I didn't realize he was transporting you," it says with a deep bow.

While the cleaning droid is complaining at Jak, Talia sets the bronze horse down again. She folds her arms across her chest and casts a cross, sidelong look at Jak while Amara settles matters in her court.

"This is a fine mess. How many other stolen artifacts did we leave in that gallery to get bought by god knows who?"

Amara sets down the sculpture she was carrying. "That's quite alright. HiraThree. Could you notify the royal art museum that we found one of the pieces we assumed was destroyed?"

She looks back to Talia, who looks rather cross, and just smiles kindly. "Do you think I'd really let that thief off so lightly?"

"I don't really know what to think right now," replies Talia.

Talia flexes her fingers, growling a little bit as she turns away from Jak and the bronze horse. She looks Amara in the eyes, her own flashing brighter for a few moments as she stares Amara down. Her fingers clench tight as she regards the Queen.

"Why are you employing an art thief or a smuggler or whatever kind of black market thug he is?"

Illustrating her point, Talia gestures toward Jak.

Amara looks to Jak, then rolls her eyes as she's reminded of him. "I didn't know he was an art thief. He's one of my subjects," she mutters. "And not a very typical one. He spent most of his life out in the world, and it corrupted him from many of our ways." Wow, she just talks like that about Jak in front of him? Well, she knows he's probably already distracted by being home. So much so that he's already vanished along with the Riddersholm art sculpture to take it back where it belongs.

Talia snorts in derision at Amara's "defense" of Jak. She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest again, the fabric of her hoodie straining as her muscles give an involuntary flex.

"So what? You're just going to double cross that scumbag?"

Amara gazes at Talia as she tries to understand the attitude. "You make it sound like I'm the worse one for not letting Jak keep his words to a thief."

"You're a superheroine and a ruler of an advanced nation," replies Talia. She tips her head, turning to look Amara in the eyes again. "Do you really think you shouldn't be held to a much higher standard than some sleazeball black market fence?"

There's a pause where Talia stares meaningfully at Amara. After the moment passes, however, Talia lets out an aggrieved sigh and snorts again.

"Not to mention that you told him you're the Queen. If we just call the cops or go back there and clean him out with your fancy tech, don't you think he might know who to blame and try to exact revenge on you or, I don't know, your sleazy little subject?"

"Of course I should, but keeping Jak's word?" Amara sighs in exasperation, caught in a moral quandry. She strokes her chin with her thumb an forefinger as she considers what her father would do. But there wasn't any situation like this that she knows of him dealing with.

"It would seem better to let United State authorities to deal with the situation. We received our stolen goods. Whatever he has left most likely is from beyond my kingdom.

She smiles slightly at the talk of her sleazy subject. "Jak can take care of his own messes. His time as an unintentional exile has made him resourceful. And I can't imagine that little art thief posing much a threat to me." She's overconfident that a caveman like the gallery owner could do her harm.

"Good to know that you're impervious to sniper bullets, poison, and advanced magical techniques," remarks Talia.

"Overconfidence doesn't become you, your majesty," notes Talia after a very long, tired sigh. This was not at all how she planned on her morning going. She was also hoping for less strength training and more cardio on her day off, but doesn't life enjoy making fools of us all? Talia looks at Amara seriously and continues, "I guess I'll just have to clean up this mess myself."

Amara's hands come to rest on her hips at Talia's barbs. "And how do you intend to resolve this without the same issues you've thrown at me? I doubt you're more imprevious to those things than I. And the gallery owner saw you come to my defense and point out the artifact he had."

"Impervious? No," replies Talia, her eyes scanning Amara's body language for a few moments. She cocks her head to one side and regards Amara seriously, her eyes narrowing a little bit as she regards Amara.

"What makes you think that the gallery owner would recognize me? There's a BIG difference between me and Sinmore. Or did you forget about that?"

"And how will Sinmore supposedly come across his little scam, if not informed by one of the trio who caught on to his scheme?" Amara suggests back.

"You're not the only person here who knows people with a checkered past," replies Talia, "But at least the people I know are remorseful for their past deeds. And, at least, the people I know haven't gone around plundering the cultures of the world to keep the future from understanding its past."

Amara lets out a brief sigh at Talia's retort. "Very well. I'll leave it to you, then. You'll be returned to Colonial Bay, near where we left. Unless you have somewhere else you'd like to be transported to?"

"Steel's Gym would be fine," replies Talia.

Talia uncrosses her arms and shakes her head a little bit. Her green eyes look from Amara to the bronze horse, lips pursing thoughtfully while she rests her hands on her hips. Shifting her weight thoughtfully, Talia lets out a little sigh.

"I know Jak can be a good guy and I know that you mean well, Amara, but I can't stand by and condone the illegal antiquities trade of /MY/ world anymore than you can stand the illegal antiquity trade of /YOUR/ people."

...to be continued