Derek nodded his head. "Totally. I trust that place with my life. They've done so much good, taking people in that have no where else to go. That place deserves a metal or somethin'. Then again, who they produce is recognition enough." As far as the Mansion went, it was just as important as Elise Isle and the Statue of Liberty.

"I understand. If I'm goin' to be apart of Haven, I have to keep my emotions in check and not try and do thin's half-cocked." Derek chewed on his bottom lip and studied Artair's face, "I promise I'll be daft-free." And that was a promise he intended on keeping.

This was about to be it. Artair and him was about to go on their mission. Derek ran through the movements in his head. He hoped that he could keep himself and Artair free from harm.

"...if you want, I can send a couple of birds ahead of us to give us a good idea what we're walkin' into," Derek scratched the side of his neck, "is that okay with you?"

Daft free was good and if he kept to that idea, chances are he’d do better than Artair had on his first run. “Can’t ask for more than that mate.” Derek was remarkable honest with his facial expression and general body language, it was pretty refreshing to deal with. It did get exhausting trying to figure out when and how people were lying to you.

“That’s a great idea and feel free to do what you think’s needed while we’re out there. We’re not the military and I’m not your boss, just give me a heads up if you’re doing anything big so I can be prepared. I’ll do the same.” Artair wasn’t one for orders and he didn’t want Derek getting the impression he was giving them. The way he saw it, working together and knowing when to action was more important than just following orders. Free thought was always preferable.

They had everything, so they might as well head out now. “We’ll get a cab there, shouldn’t take too long. If you’ve got any questions for the journey feel free to ask, about Haven or even just me if you're curious,” he added with a smile. Experience had taught him people usually wanted to know something when they met a strange Scot in America.

Leading him out and towards the front of the building, the cab he’d order was already waiting. God working with Haven did have it’s benefits sometimes.

Derek nodded his head. Of course because this was his first time in action, Derek would follow Artair's lead. It was more so learning while watching and doing than anything else. The last thing he wanted to do was mess something up while out on the job.

While walking out with Artair, Derek turned his head to look at his partner as he talked. "Trust me, I'll probably be askin' a lot of questions," Derek smirked. He honestly wanted to know a lot about Artair just in case he needed to bake him cookies or simply go out with him on a mission again if this one went as planned.

Now outside, Derek turned his gaze to the skies. He studied them for a bit before making a couple of whistling sounds. After a few minutes, a couple of birds could be seen circling overhead. "Down here!" He called as he waved to them. The birds could be heard squeaking as they slowly flew down as Derek extended his arm for them to rest on. When they did, Derek started talking,

"Hey, guys. We have a job for you," Derek decided to be verbal so that Artair was informed, "what?" He looked at Artair, then back at the birds, "no, he doesn't have any worms on him. Listen we need you two to go ahead of us to scout a place out. Where?" He looked over at Artair. "They need the location."

"Feel free to ask, mate. But I'll expect as many answers from you as I give out." While he wasn't one to generally inquire about people, if he was working with them it was always good to know how they ticked. What made them do what they did.

OK, so Artair was pretty aware how freaky it was for some people when he used his power, after all, he could pull flying weapons out of nothingness. But seeing Derek call down birds and start talking to them was, well down right weird. Passing over the location, he was still giving the birds a curious glance. It didn't look like they were effected in any negative way by Derek's ability, they were just, there.

"It should only take us ten minutes to get there, traffic willing. It's the area around one of parks nearby, mostly at the edges. We'll take a wander around the parks perimeter, see if we spot anything dodgy." He was't holding out much hope they'd find anything, but any information they got was useful, especially if it could be collected and passed on to the right people in Haven.

Opening the door and motioning for Derek to enter, he climbed in after and gave the cabbie the go ahead, him having already been told of their destination. "How long will your, influence over the birds last? And how much info can you normally get from them?"

"You'll get answers alright. Hopefully they won't be long and drawn out." The second to last thing he wanted to do was talk Artair's cute ears off. On the way there to their destination.

He waited until Artair was finished explaining where they were going to both him and the birds before nodding his head. "So, go along the perimeter and get back to use. Also, if you find any other birds or, ah, a fox maybe, tell them to meet up with us." The birds chirped before flying off to refill their tasks. Huh, maybe being able to communicate with animals did come in handy.

Derek thanked him as he slid to the far seat and buckled himself in. "It usually lasts after they finish their task. After that, they go on about their business." He explained with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. "I can get a good amount of info from them. It's...it's sort of like a...it's hard to explain." He chuckled a bit and turned to look over at Artair. "What about you? How does your powers work? Can you form other things from your mind?"

Shaking his head and trying very hard not to crack any Disney jokes, he couldn't stop one just slipping through. "Not bad Snow, keep it up and you'll be impressing the boss man in no time." Giving him a sidelong glance, an evil grin forming, "Things like that get you noticed. Most of us need the extra chance to turn heads with Devon around."

For a guy that looked like a run way model, he was pretty dense about his effect on people, at least in Artairs experience. Shaking the thoughts away for now, he paid attention to Dereks explanations, it was important to know what the people watching your back could do after all. "I'm not entirely sure, to be honest. I just, fix the image in my head, push some energy into it and I can just, pull it into reality." Shrugging, he'd never really known how to explain that particular bit of his power. "As for what I can make, think of pretty much any medieval weapon and I can make it. Can even do crossbows, but that takes a lot of energy."

"I might not have a massive range, but they are pretty handy. Most people nowadays have no clue how to fight a guy with a longsword or using a shield. Tends to help in fights." Although it'd help more if he didn't feel the need to play nice with it and try to take people down non lethally.

On a whim he asked another question, "Where you from then? Before coming here, of course?"

Did...Did Artair just call in Snow White lowkey? Derek was so shocked by this that he couldn't stop laughing. No one had ever made that connection before. "Well, anythin' that catches Devon's attention..." Derek decided to trail off on that statement. He'll keep his crush on the supermodel as much as a secret as he could.

"Ah, well that sounds cool," Derek bit his lip and scratched the side of his neck. "So, do you ever may bow and arrows out of your mind energy," he cleared his throat and looked out the window, "Mierda." Derek snickered at his own joke. It was good that both of them were now at least more relaxed with each other than what they had been originally. Though, Derek still had a lot to prove.

Longsword, huh? Derek's guttered mind wrestled with his tongue to keep it from saying anything. "Well, at least you're a force, Artair. If I saw a guy coming at me with a...mace and shield lookin' like a berserker I would turn the other way and run."

He turned his head to look at Artair. "Raleigh, North Carolina. Nothin' special really," he answered with a shrug, "What about you? Are you from Scotland?"

Artair just grinned at the reactions, pretty sure he'd hit the bullseye. Not that he'd judge, Devon was a damn good looking guy, nice too which helped the whole image. He'd be lying if he said he didn't think the guy was attractive, but at this point, he was more a friend than anything else. Good wingman though, surprisingly.

His own grin broke into full laughter as well, not able to hold it back anymore. Derek was a bad influence on him, making him all happy and funny. Hows a Scot meant to grump effectively with so much cheeriness about? Down right rude of him to be so nice. "Can't say I ever had a proper nickname but that's one hell of a one to start with. And yes I can make bows. Just a bit pointless since I can't fire them more than 30 feet. Unless you've got some arrows stashed away somewhere."

All joking aside he was enjoying his time today, training could have been so boring. Thank god for people with an actual sense of humour and now that he'd relaxed, the lad was a good laugh.

If he'd heard of the place he'd couldn't remember it now, but that wasn't surprising really. America was really big and he was already an outsider anyway. "Got it one lad. Scottish born and breed, from a place called Kirkwall, on Orkney." At heart, he was a small town lad, not really at ease in the cities. "What gave me away? The frankly fantastic accent or the fact that I'm a few shades paler than white?"

Derek laughed along with him, turning his head from the window to watch the Scotsman face light up like a Christmas tree. He certainly had the red and green down packed. Yep, it was official, Derek would be giving Artair a pair of reindeer antlers when December rolls around.

"Well, you're welcome for the new codename." Derek smiled at Artair. He slowly positioned himself so that his body was slightly angled toward the Havenite. Derek was all about body language. "And I'll talk to my home girls Cinderella and Tiana about gettin' you some arrows." He playfully winked at Artair.

Score one for Derek!

He was glad that he didn't guess that he was Irish. With a grin, he shrugged his shoulders, "It was that, your hair, eyes, and the 'change 'er fate' accent. Which I always found interestin'." Derek grinned over at Artair before turning to stare out the window. "We'll have to excuse my American education, but what's the difference between Scotland and Ireland? I dunno why I get those two confused."

He just snorted at the comment, but it was a fair point. Maybe he should ask around Haven, see if he could get some equipment through them. After all, he might not be fully in the know, but he had his suspicions abut just how big the more, illicit, side of the picture. Yeah, he not be asking questions right now but he wasn't an eejit.

God Derek knew just how to stroke his ego. "Aye, more than one bar trip's ended well thanks to the voice. Does wonders over here." Back home, well it was just how they talked. He had to rely on his personality and god knows his wasn't the best out there.

"The dirty little secret is, they're not. At least not much. The Gaels came across from Ireland in the early medieval times. Settled down and kind of over took the locals." Not much left of the Picts, which was sad really, just a few bones and some carved stones. "All we've left of the Picts is this," he held his ring up to show the script wrapped around it, "comes from the Ogham stones."

"The rest of the culture differences came about after that. Our sheer blinded stubbornness is probably left over from having to deal with the sassanachs."

They were nearly there, the park coming into view, now just a straight shot road of New York traffic. Yay. Turning back to his companion, he kept up the round of questions, "Why'd you move here then, to New York?" It was always the big one. 

Derek was a great stroker. Ego, that is. "Oh, yeah. Americans love hearing foreign accents: Spanish, French, German, British, Scotish, you name it," Derek was one of those people. He found it incredibly...hot. And he was okay with that. He wondered if he went across the pond if his own accent would get him some drinks.

"Ah, okay," Derek slowly nodded his head as Artair educated him on Scotland and Ireland. He winced at bit at the mention of taking over to locals. However, his face regained its cinnamon rollish charm when Artair showed him his ring. "Oh, that's really nice." Derek smiled a bit. "Yeah, taking over locals is, uh, well, y'know," he shrugged his shoulders, "apart of that time. We have a handful of Native Americans here and most of them have been pushed aside."

Sassenachs? Sounds like somethin' his grandma would say to a bunch of bad kids. He'll ask him later.

"For the Mansion," Derek answered, "I ah, -- there was an incident that ended with a guy bein' slightly mauled to death by a dog," Derek didn't like to think about that. Things had gotten way out of hand that night. "So I needed to come here. Plus, New York is way more acceptin' than the south is."

Now don't get Derek wrong, he was a proud southern, but there was still a bitter aftertaste of racism, sexism, and homophobia that he didn't like. "What about you, Mierda? Why did you decide to come here?"

"Aye, unfortunately most of human history is one group strong arming another. The US is just one of the more recent examples." While his own history was marred with constant fighting with the English and glorious moments of freedom, it was easy to forget their role in the colonial events. Hard to not the effects though, now that he was in America.

That would do it, sounds like a pretty rough way to be forced to move. But at least the mansion as a good place, free from a lot of prejudices around. "I know how you feel. Back home being openly bi was bad enough for the town, there'd have been hell if they knew I was a mutant." Rural places were lovely and sweet, but they were also usually pretty backwards on equality issues. Didn't stop him loving the place, it'd always be home.

"I'm here for uni. I'm a student up at NYU studying medicine. Needed to get away from home, too many memories, so I came here." Grinning at Derek, "Turned out pretty well though. After all, if I'd stayed back home how would I have met Snow White, in the flesh?"

Looking back out the window, they were here. "Ready lad? Boots on the ground time."

Derek nodded his head and sighed, "yeah, unfortunately," he turned to look at Artair. He wasn't sure if he wanted the answer to the question he was about to ask him, but decided to go for it. "Did...Scotland own African slaves? I know they were all the rave back then." It wasn't going to get upset if his country did. A lot of countries did. It was just the fact of the world at the time. No hard feelings (maybe a little).

He had turned his attention to the window again and watched as the scenery changed. He was about to say something when Artair literally dropped the "B" bomb. Derek was prepared for it and choked on the salvia he was in the middle of swallowing. He put his hand over his heart and started to sputter. Derek tried to get himself under control. "Y-you're, bi?! F*** me." He groaned, shaking his head, "you can't just...drop a bomb like that on me!" At least Derek knew that Artair' pendulum swung both ways. Though, he doubt anything would come from it. He just had this nagging, Khzar-like grumbling in his mind.

Derek smiled at Artair. "I sent my application for NYU! I'm gonna be a animal studies major with a minor in environmental science." Derek chuckled a bit and turned his head to resist blushing. "I guess you're right. Plus, my life wouldn't be fulfilled without Mierda in my life." Derek winked at Artair and looked out the window.

"Ready. Let's go do this." Derek got out of the cab. He walked over to Artair's side of the cab and waited for him to step out. Looking up, he saw a small flock of birds fly away from the park in haste.

"...Somethin's definitely up, Artair. The birds," he pointed to the sky, "it's like they're avoidin' somethin'."

Well, it was a pretty fair question, deserved an honest answer. "Yes and no. At that time they were part of the British Empire so they certainly had some hand in the events of that time, but there was never any slaves kept in Scotland itself. In fact there were no slaves in Britain, thanks to some old laws. 'No man who sets foot on English soil can be a slave'." Old words and a very strange law lead to some serious reforms. "It's part of why Britain was so prominent in ending the slave trade, even if their involvement before was horrendous."

Oh my the lad was flustered! That was adorable, reminded him of Devon the day they'd met. The Scot was apparently more blunt spoken than his usual friends and it made for some fun verbal sparring. "I know, people keep telling me I don't come across like that, whatever that means, but that's the way of it." He was trying to suppress the laughter but it kept bubbling up between sentences.

Artair chose to get his chuckling back into order rather than comment, but it good Derek had plans. Clearly he had something he wanted to do with his life. Wasn't above fun along the way too.

Stepping out the cab, he immediately was on edge with what Derek said. "Well that cannae be good, see if you can get anything out of them, I'll keep an eye out." Upset animals was always a bad sign, like earthquake natural disaster bad.

Glancing around, he kept getting a weird feeling every time he looked into the park. What the hell was going on?

Derek simply nodded his head. His face was emotionless before a small smile came across his face. It was something about the "No man who sets foot on English soil can be a slave" thing. At least the British weren't total monsters.

"...I'm glad you think this is funny," Derek laughed, "I'ma get you back for that, though. I'm just gonna say somethin' totally off the wall next time I run into you."Derek laughed a bit more. Maybe then Artair will learn not to drop something of that magnitude on someone especially if they weren't straight.

"I'm tryin'..." Derek eyes called out to a couple of birds, but they kept flying, "yeah, they don't even want to stop," he looked to Artair, than back up at the sky. The two birds that he sent out earlier came flying down, landing on his right shoulder. They chirped frantically before taking off again. "Damn, something about...a tear. There's a tear that's happening." Artair caught Derek's eyes again. "What should we do?"