Who:Regan Wyngarde and OTA When: Thursday, mid-morning Where: Starbucks in Chelsea (61 9th Avenue) What: Enjoying coffee, people watching, people manipulating. Whatever Regan wants Warnings: TBD
For the most part humans were predictable creatures, especially when it came to their coffee. Regan had been sitting in the Starbucks for a couple of hours slowly nursing a hot green tea. She noticed that people were very sure when it came to their drinks.
"Grande caramel macchiato," they'd say with such conviction. "With soy milk and sugar-free syrup," they added with an air of pride. They were able to order a drink just to their specifications, and though her telepathy was limited Regan could tell that they were happy with themselves. This was the perfect start to their day, and they weren't going to let anything bring them down.
And then the next person in line, followed by another, and yet another. This particular Starbucks didn't seem to ever have a lull considering how big it was and it's central location to so many things. Regan brought the paper cup to her lips and sipped slowly. Her eyes trained on the man that had just passed her with a croissant in his mouth, a briefcase in one hand and a steaming hot coffee in another. He looked to be in a rush which made him the perfect candidate for her games.
She pulled him into an illusion, one where he believed he was the Hulk, and he proceeded to smash the cardboard coffee cup in one hand, spilling the hot liquid over his skin and burning it. He then threw his briefcase at a stranger before he began to topple over tables and chairs. He growled and roared and yelled "HULK SMASH" as he continued to destroy all the things around him. Regan chuckled at the display, and added a few by-standers to it allowing them to "see" the man as the Hulk as well. They screamed and ranted, while others stood far enough away to capture the spectacle on their phone. It was entertaining at the very least, and Regan was quite proud of herself.