The Prometheus Project

[Silverback]

The following day had turned out to be a typical May day. An overnight shower had freshened the the earth and air and the warming sun drove away the remaining clinging globes of water. It seemed so calm and peaceful compared to the chaos of the previous day which, fortunately for the team, had resulted in nothing more than a few bruises and stiff muscles.

Tomahawk had watched in embarassed silence as the other team members joked and catcalled his performance on the early evening news. At least laughter had been a good release for all the stress and tension they had experienced. And now, here they were, sat in the opulently furnished wardroom, awaiting T'Challa and the beginning of the days briefing.

In one corner, unobserved behind a large planter, sat Hiro and Amy quietly whispering to each other as the giant Wakandan strode into the room, his stance, demeanor and stride demanded attention - here was a man with something on his mind. The troubled look on his face indicated that what he had to say probably wasn't going to be pleasant.

From a highly polished oak table the leader of the Tribal group picked up a shallow stack of newspapers and, wandering purposefully around the room, he threw a single copy to each of the Carlton Hotel participants. Opening the paper out revealed the news sheet to be that of the Daily Bugle. Splashed across the front page was the headline:

Mexican President Kidnapped
Tribal Group Pictured at Scene!

Below the headline were a series of pictures depicting the comrades in action. As T'Challa returned to the table head he finally spoke aloud, "would anyone care to explain this?"

[Hiro]

"Ano... what he mad with?"

Seated in the crouched, legs-tucked-under seiza position behind the planter, the young, sandy-haired Japanese boy whispered to the girl behind him. She was annoying, and often so hyper that he couldn't understand a word she was saying, but she did have a better grasp on English than he did... when she stayed calm enough for him to understand it.

Feh, think that means either they've been south of the border... or they're getting played for saps, the ghost of Hiro's sword said from where the apparition stood, as though standing guard over the two children, the ancient spirit of the unseemly Shaolin monk leaned up against the wall. The boy and the ghost exchanged a brief glance, before Hiro's attention returned to the Hot Wheels™ car that he was absently playing with, running the matchbox-sized corvette up and down the sides of the planter as he just sat in the shadows and listened.

Just as Hiro had seemed to be picking up on the spirit's knowledge of fighting skills and ancient magic, Dancing Rain had begun to exhibit some of Hiro's knowledge; such as being able to read the English newspaper headline. How or why the two were swapping such knowledge, neither understood. The fact just went to deepen the invisible bond between them that both shared a love-hate relationship with; eager to end the link, yet also secretly needing the same.

Looking up and leaning so he was peeking out from around the planter, the young mutant let his eyes run over the group seated at the table. He'd never seen such diversity. There were two darkly brown men, and a man whose skin was like between white and brown, and still another with light skin but green eyes! He had hair about the same color as Hiro's though. And there was a woman too, not like Amy's superdoofus form though, but someone who was a real adult. She looked kinda Asian, but he knew she wasn't Japanese or Chinese.

Or Korean either. He could tell a difference between those three.

Returning his attention to the toy car in his hands, the boy resigned himself to listening and waiting to see what the adults did about the fuss T'Challa was making over a newspaper. How could a newspaper make someone so excited? It was just a bunch of boring articles about money or working or something... wasn't it?

[Madclergy]

Antonio rose from the seat he had been sitting in previously, it still held his heavy impression; mainly because he had been slouching in shame of the newspaper clipping.

He addressed the man with shame in his voice, which was amplified by his thick Spanish accent.

"I will explain, it is my fault.” it was simple and to the point, that was the way Antonio handled everything, but it seemed this was not only Antonio speaking .

“I was sent to protect El Presidente and I have failed." Antonio hung his head a little lower but then raised it to look the man whom had addressed the team in the eyes "But trust this, whom ever has kidnapped El Presidente and his family will pay dearly"

Antonio's voice was filled with the tone of vengeance, as if it irradiated from his mouth with each word that exited. It was safe to say that it was Guerro del Sol whom had put the vengeance into the words and who had the power to back them up. As much as Antonio and Guerro were in the same body, they were two people of separate traits.

With the vengeful words released, Antonio took the leisure of sitting down, he sat in silence trying to think of a way to find the President, and once he did, how to explain how this could have happened.

'I am not about to allow someone to kidnap my charge and get away with zero punishment. Pagarán con sus vidas! If not for that..that...thing hitting me in the back of the head, I would not have lost him and his family, they must be scared to death. I must find the culprit, even if I pay my life in doing it.'

[Silverback]

The rich, deep bass voice of T'Challa rolled out audibly over the gathered heroes. "Antonio, self-pity is not an aspect that we welcome here at Tribal. Self-pity, turns to self-loathing which in turn becomes self-hatred. These emotions can cripple a man, cloud his judgement, cause them to make irrational decisions."

At this point he paused, "These thoughts and feelings make you a liability. If you're a liability how can you begin to help those you were responsible for?" Without waiting for a reply he continued by turning to the remaining members of the team before him, "Can anyone else shed any light on this situation?"

[Amazon]

As the tall, dark figure of T'Challa strode into the room, Amy shrunk back against the wall. It was obvious that the man was upset and as big and strong as he was, that made her a little nervous. "Catman is angry..." She whispered, mostly to herself. She was clearly relieved to discover that she wasn't the focus of his irritation and peered out from behind the plant at the strange collection of people seated at the table.

Hiro, like herself, was wondering what the problem was, but Amy didn't have a clue. Might've helped if she had been given a newspaper to look at, since that seemed to be a clue, but all she'd likely read was the comic section anyway. That was all newspapers were really good for. Well, that and papier-mache, paper airplanes and other such crafts.

Then the one guy stood up and claimed responsibility for whatever it was. She still wasn't sure exactly what had happened and the man's accent didn't help make it any clearer. It was very weird, sitting there and watching it all, not knowing any of them except for the dark giant who was quite clearly the boss.

Amy leaned over slightly closer to Hiro, though her eyes continued to watch between the leaves of the plant. She kept her voice as quiet as she could manage, even managing to keep in mind that she needed to talk a little slower for him as she whispered. "I think they made a mess or broke something. My parents always yelled at me when I did that." A quick glance down at the toy he was playing with brought a very abrupt change of topic, a cheerful smile lighting her face. She hadn't really seen any toys since the fire. "Hey, where'd you get the car?"

[Silverback]

Khalifa slowly arose to his feet and began to pace like a caged animal. T'Challas eyes observed every sinuous movement and action taken by his African 'brother'. Sensing that the young man had something on his mind he remained silent, allowing Silverback to gather his thoughts before speaking them aloud. Finally he turned to face the leader of Tribal.

What he was about to say could shed a whole new light on the situation, like a blanket being lifted to reveal that the only source of light was a raging fire. In his thick Congolese accent he finally uttered the thoughts that preyed on his mind. "As we arrived at the Carlton I took the opportunity to 'see'," at this point he waggled his hand, "how many people were in need of rescue. As far as I'm aware we evacuated every single person that I originally sensed." He looked at both Tomahawk and Bengaline to see whether they agreed with his statement.

"That is until Antonio appeared out of . . . nowhere. At one point he was not there, the next . . ." he clicked his fingers loudly. "Either some 'one' magicked him into the building or, and this is the most worrying, my ability to detect his presence and that of the Mexican presidents family was being 'blocked'." He sat down heavily and the leather upholstered seat 'sighed' as it settled into place. "Whatever truly happened out there we were unaware of the families presence."

[Tomahawk]

“This entire thing is annoying,” Tomahawk thought, sitting quietly in the meeting. He had taken the catcalls and jokes in stride the night before, realizing that had it been someone else, no doubt he would have had some jokes of his own to say, and besides, none of it was meant in a cruel way. He hadn’t really slept well- too many thoughts and questions, and far too few answers. He had intentionally taken his breakfast in his room rather than going down to meet with the others, hoping to spare himself even more jokes from the previous day’s events. When T’Challa called the meeting, he calmly dressed, went downstairs, and took his place amongst his teammates. No one mentioned his performance on the news last night, which was a good sign. With some luck, the whole thing might just blow over and be quickly forgotten.

would anyone care to explain this?

Well, so much for that idea.

…As far as I'm aware we evacuated every single person that I originally sensed.

“Aho.” Tomahawk interjected instinctively, not to interrupt, but to express his complete agreement with what his friend had said. He had been listening to all the things said in the meeting, formulating his own thoughts for the time when it would be his turn to speak up.

“This whole thing could not have come at a worse time. I wanted a chance for some peace, to reflect on things, to do ceremony. I had hoped to have had a chance to speak with ‘Shaman’- Dr. Twoyoungmen- as he is the only one I believe can relate to my experience- the Vision I had. Since Grandfather is not here to ask, that is…” He thought silently to himself.

Tomahawk slowly stood, gathered his thoughts together, and spoke.

“What my friend Khalifa has said is true. We came to the scene, and started right away assisting the fire-people with rescuing the persons trapped inside the building. Bengaline,” He motioned with one hand in her direction, “and I went into the building while Khalifa used his abilities to give us eyes in the smoke.”<br>
He paused for a moment and considered his words carefully before continuing,

“I only saw Anton here after there was an accident, and a portion of the building had collapsed. I had not seen him or anyone else on that floor beforehand. What happened afterwards… I lost consciousness. When I awoke again, Anton was carrying me out onto the fire-stairs and out of the building. Bengaline was there as well, so I assumed that I was safe enough at that moment. However, I still do not know anything about this man, how he came to be inside the building on a floor I was told was already cleared, nor did I see or hear anything about any ‘El Presidente’. And these things bother me.”<br>
In his pause, a small voice broke his concentration.

Hey, where'd you get the car?

He immediately recognized that it was in no way any sort of threat, and somewhat found it amusing that the children he had seen the evening before had been clever enough to slip into the meeting unnoticed- at least, until now. Choosing to ignore it for the moment, he continued,

“I do not know how things such as this are handled in this place. There are many things about this city that are very strange to me. I know, however, that we have some Medicine Men here among us; my suggestion would be to go back to the hotel, and see what the Spirits have to say about what truly happened. Surely that would give us a ‘lead’ in our investigation- ifwe are even to investigate. But this small hunting-dog paper- 'Daily Beagle'- has made its accusations, and honor demands we solve this and restore honor to our names. Mitakuye Oyasin, Aho!”<br>

[Hiro]

"Catman is angry," the young Nihonjin heard the girl whisper beside him, drawing the boy's chestnut colored eyes up from the die cast corvette in his hands to glance across the room at T'Challa, considering the girl's observation as he took in the tensions in the room. "Honto desu ka?"

Tension was something he was familiar with. Between the discipline of having to maintain face on a daily basis and dealing with a rebellious - and homicidal - sibling, the small boy had dealt with more than his share of anxieties.

"Ie," he replied in a quiet, pensive kind of tone. "He is confused... how you say... frustrurated-o," he added, rolling around the word frustrated in his mouth as best he could. These phoenitcs were all very strange to him. Consonants and fricatives side by side in words were inflection was a heavily used took and often some vowels in words were unspoken. There seemed a great many contradictory rules in English.

"I think they made a mess or broke something. My parents always yelled at me when I did that."

"Ee," he whispered, echoing her sentiment. He noticed she seemed to have edged closer to where he was kneeling, and was astonished to realize it didn't bother him to be so close to a girl. It felt... nice... that there was another kid here with him. He wouldn't even be object to playing with her. Even if she was a girl, she was also the closest thing to a friend that he had at the moment.

"Hey, where'd you get the car?"

As soon as she'd said it, he reacted with a selfish impulse; drawing the car up to his chest with both hands as if to protect it from her, while his light, faun brown eyes narrowed at her as he glared at her from over his shoulder. "Barker-san..." he stated warily, referring to the butler in the mansion. Apparently he had kids that had grown up, and he'd brought Hiro some toys that he said had belonged to them but that they didn't play with anymore.

He would have thought that the same would have been done for Ami-chan, but... now that he thought about it... since she could transform into an adult, that's probably how some people saw her. To be grown up was a contradictory thing. On the one hand, it would be nice to not be a kid anymore; but on the other, adults didn't get to play like kids did.

"Mimasu ka," he asked, glancing down at the toy and then offering it to Amy, in case she wanted to play with it for awhile. He wasn't sure just what the adults were talking about, but it wasn't his problem either. If it was something that involved him, T'Challa or Anthony-san would tell him. In the meantime, he was just... there.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -
Hiro-Engrish Dictionary
• Honto desu ka (han`toe dess ka) - "Really?" or "Is that so?" or "Is it true?"
• Ie (ee`eh) - No.
• Ee (eh) - Yeah [slang]
• Mimasu ka (me`moss ka) - "[You] want to see?"

[Bengaline]

“Easy there, Tomahawk- no need to go off on the war-path quite yet,” Bengaline said, standing up as Tomahawk returned to his seat. She checked for a reaction from him, and as she’d suspected, saw the large Native American blush slightly. “I guess now it’s my turn.”<br>
“I knew it,” she thought. “I was pretty sure he was ‘checking me out’ in the car yesterday. I bet he thinks I didn’t notice, or that I forgot in all the chaos of the fire… I can have some serious fun with this!” She smiled to herself slightly before continuing.

“I first saw Antonio when I came into the hotel to check on Tomahawk. I found him standing over top of him, like some kind of glowing… whatever. I didn’t know what to think, but I didn’t have much choice except to trust him at that point, and he did help me get Tomahawk out to where he could breathe again. Although…” she paused for a moment and, turning to directly face Antonio. “You did lose me my cloak in there.” A low, tiger’s growl escaped from deep inside of her, her eyes flashing and glowing briefly before she continued, “My favorite cloak. And for that, you’ll have to pay… And it’s going to be expensive, believe that. None of that Wal-mart crap, we’re talking Fifth Avenue.”<br>
Bengaline stepped around her chair and moved forward. “Anyhow, Tomahawk’s idea isn’t bad, but there is one pretty big problem with it- there’s no way any of the police are going to let anyone from Tribal even get near that place to check things out- at least, no one that they know is from Tribal. But I’m not just a member of Tribal- I’m also a Journalist. I could use my background in journalism to get insider info concerning the missing president from the Daily Bugle… I was meaning to go down there and get myself a job anyhow- as Sari Kumar. A reputable journalist from India, wanting to get a foot in the door, starting a new life here in New York, American Dream and so on… sounds pretty good, doesn’t it??"

She paced up and down on the small spot where she had been sitting just a few minutes ago. "Does anyone already have a connection with anyone from the Bugle? That could make things so much easier."

[Silverback]

T'Challa listened in silence, absorbing everything that was being revealed by this young team of crime-fighters. Not letting the concern show on his face the Wakandan was worried that someone already knew about Khalifas powers and how to block them. Almost as if . . . as if they'd been 'expected'. A deep frown creased his forehead like an expanding gorge as this revelation finally began to crack asunder his mask of calm.

"Does anyone already have a connection with anyone from the Bugle? That could make things so much easier."

The slightly lilting, musical voice of Sari cut through the Black Panthers personal revelation and, as he focussed his attention on the conversation, the wheels of his mind began to turn as an idea began to form. "Bengaline, I think we may be able to help you out there." He leant forward slightly and flicked on the intercom and gave immediate instructions to Barker. "Please arrange transport for Miss Kumar and an appointment with Joseph Robertson please."

"Very good sir," came the disembodied voice of the butler as T'Challa closed the channel.

"We may not be able to get you onto the Bugle staff on a full-time basis but they have a minor publication . . . ah, what was it?" Rubbing his temples with his fingertips he frowned slightly in recollection, "ah yes. 'The Pulse'. You may find that they only have openings for freelance staff at the moment. It's about as close to the Bugle as we can get I'm afraid."

Looking at the highly polished mahogany time piece hanging on the wall he continued, "if you intend to get an appointment today I suggest that you leave right away before Mister Robertson becomes overwhelmed with the days work."

He watched as the young olive-skinned woman left the room and, glancing at Tomahawk, he noticed that Michael seemed to be a little 'distracted'. "Now then Mister Two Crows, if you'd care to rejoin the briefing!?" He raised an eyebrow and half-smiled in amusement at the native americans discomfort.

"Antonio, please fill us in on what you know of the president and his family, the reason for their visit, any known enemies, terrorist groups, anything that could explain their disappearance."

Bengalines thread continues in A Finger on 'The Pulse'

[Amazon]

Everyone seemed so serious and it was obvious they weren't having any fun at all, which left Amy wondering why they continued to do... whatever they were doing. Logically, they should find something more enjoyable to do, but then adults could be like that. She sighed, wondering what the big deal was. Hiro said they were frustrated — or "frustrated-o", rather, but Hiro talked funny like that. Maybe they lost their last game and were upset about it? Boys did tend to be sore losers, she'd noticed.

When her new friend offered her the toy car, she positively beamed. He was really nice, especially for a boy. Cheerfully accepting it, she went about studying it, looking to see if the doors really opened and checking the number that was sure to be stamped onto the bottom. It was only a momentary distraction, but she was making the most of it. "Wonder if Mr Barker has more."

Amy, might I remind you that the toy is not yours. A brief defensive look flashed across her face, but it fell as quickly as it had arisen. She knew Athena was right and her mom had always told her to share. And, technically, it was Hiro's. Putting on a smile, she offered it back to her playmate, whispering a "thank you" as she did.

You know, if you actually paid attention to what they're talking about over there... Amy rolled her eyes at the suggestion. It wasn't like she wasn't listening, they just weren't talking about anything interesting. "But they're so booooring. Talking ‘bout El Picante and stuff." She paused in her quiet conversation with (apparently) herself, seemingly trying to remember something. "Wasn't he the Mexican wrestler guy on Jackie Chan?" I don't think so, sweety.

"Oh yeah, that was El Toro. Maybe they're related? They both have the same first name." Families tend to share last names, Amy, not first. "Yeah, but maybe they're backwards, like with Asian people." She turned to focus her attention on Hiro, whispering to him again in genuine curiosity. "Is your name backwards like that?"

She was distracted by the woman's departure, realizing that she'd missed something. I told you to focus, dear. She let out another sigh, this one slightly annoyed, then peered out from behind the plant again before whispering to Hiro. "Athena says we should pay attention. Maybe they'll need our help." Of course, her goddess hadn't actually said the latter part, but it was implied, at least Amy thought so.

[Madclergy]

Antonio sat in the quiet of his inner mind, mentally pacing back in forth; quietly thinking over the questions being thrown around.

"Antonio, please fill us in on what you know of the president and his family, the reason for their visit, any known enemies, terrorist groups, anything that could explain their disappearance."

'Great now they want me to play detective, I am a warrior, a bodyguard to the Sungods ways; not a detective. If anything I should be out looking for El Presidente. I have no idea why I am sitting here doing nothing while CHALCHIUHTLICUE Knows what is happening to them.'

Antonio sat up in his seat, he could feel his weapon wavering on his hip as he sat in the chair uneasy like. He pushed a bit of hair out of his eye and calmed his spirit before continueing with his words.

"I don't know much about them, all I do know is that I was sent to protect them. From what? I was not told. From whom? I was not told. You ask about enemies, it is obvious with my appearence here today that for some reason the people whom gave me this charge thought they had some worth while to protect against."

Antonio allowed his words to sink in before continueing. He looked the man they called Black Panther in the eyes, giving him a look that was full of rage. Then calmly he continued.

"If I am not mistaken you are the offshoot version of the Avengers, and this is the Avengers Mansion. This much is widely known, you have vast capital and resources..I would be willing to bet that you have the ability to find them fairly easy. If you did this for me, I would be greatly in debt." again pausing for a short amount of time, Antonio added "..if we do not get started searching soon then I fear I must search on my own."

[Tomahawk]

"Now then Mister Two Crows, if you'd care to rejoin the briefing!?"

“Ho.” Tomahawk said, barely audibly, acknowledging the fact that T’Challa had addressed him by name.

“Splitting us up like that… I cannot help but think that that is a bad idea. Although I am certain Bengaline can more than take care of herself, we do not even know what we are up against, and this whole matter leaves me with quite an uneasy feeling. Or is that something more than concern for my new teammate I am feeling? No…” He shook his head silently to himself, and then continued his inner dialogue, “I cannot allow myself to think on such things right now. There are other things which need our attention right now!”<br>
He listened as ‘Antonio’- if this was indeed who this man truly was- spoke in answer to Tribal’s Chief’s questions. One of the first things Tomahawk noticed was not how much he answered the questions, but how many other questions he left unanswered. Immediately his thoughts flew back to their ‘first meeting’ in the blazing inferno the hotel had become. Something had definitely ‘felt wrong’ then, and that same suspicious feeling was creeping it’s way over the young Blackfoot Lakota with each word that was said.

Then something in the dialogue caught his attention- not so much something said, but the tone in which it was said. Tomahawk quickly assessed the glance this young man dared hurl in the direction of Chief T’Challa, and became ever increasingly ‘not amused’. When he went further to insult Tribal by diminishing their significance as an organization, the final straw had been laid upon the camel’s back.

"..if we do not get started searching soon then I fear I must search on my own."

“Then perhaps it is just as well you do search on your own, Wasichu!” Tomahawk blurted out, unable to hold in his rising anger any longer.

“You have yet to explain how you even came to be in the hotel in the first place, when we have already established that you were not there when we arrived. Or, someone who knew about Silverback’s abilities deliberately blocked them, just to shield you and this ‘El Presidente’. Very strange, if you ask me, that you were blocked out as well, unless you are also in league with these kidnappers. You have given me-“ He paused for a moment, and restarted,

“You have given us no reason to trust you whatsoever. And you come here, into our home, threaten our Chief with your hate-filled glances, and then mock our very existence by calling us the mere ‘off-shoot version of the Avengers’?? How dare you!”<br>
By this time, Tomahawk was already on his feet, ready for action. Advancing forward, he continued,

“Do not think I did not notice you came to this council bearing weapons- I believe that makes your intentions here all too clear!”<br>

[Hiro]

Unlike Amy, the small Japanese boy didn't have any trouble understanding why the adults were continuing in their boring discussion over the possibly even more boring shimbun that they had laid out on the table with the weird headline or something. They did it because it was their job and they had to be responsible for it. The only thing he couldn't comprehend was the tension that was thickening in their air with every ticking second. Even if they were frustrated with their responsibilities, they still should have been putting forth face; appearing to be stoically content or even happy with their given job.

These gaijin were very strange. They seemed to say exactly what was on their mind, without regard for how the receiver of those thoughts and words might be affected by them; or even wore their feelings openly, particularly hostility in the case of this room. There seemed no decorum, no etiquette. The social rules as he knew them just did not apply to these people. It was not Japanese.

But, then, he was not in Japan.

"Wonder if Mr. Barker has more," he heard the young girl beside him comment, with regard to the die-cast model corvette that he'd been playing with and passed to her.

"Ano... You can play with my toys if you want," the boy offered from over his slender shoulder. It only made sense. There were two of them and it seemed only he had been given any toys. There was the burden of a social responsibility that Hiro felt compelled to make the offer, even though his inner self would have preferred to not have extended such a favor to a girl. To Hiro's frame of mind, in the context of the enclosed community in which they found themselves inside the mansion, he had certain commitments toward the group.

"Do itashimashite," he whispered quietly in reply to Amy's quiet 'thank you' when she returned the car to him. He rolled it over in his hands, glancing down at it while Amy seemed to become engrossed in a conversation with her spirit tag-a-long.

Whoa, whoa, whoa... just who's the tag-a-long here!? I was minding my own business in that closet before you came stumbling down the rabbit hole, you know!

"Is your name backwards like that?"

"Nani," the boy asked, perking up as the girl beside him was clearly addressing him once again. Backwards? His name? "Oh, hai, hai. So ne. In Japanese my name is Asakura Hiro."

"The family name is... ano... more great than my name," he explained quietly, tapping the tip of his nose to emphasize the reference to himself. "Our... self name is use only for family or close friend."

"If I am not mistaken..."

Something in the tone of the accented speech that caught his ear made the young Nihonjin's head snap aroud to face the table. Tension was beginning to become an understatement. He wasn't meaning to ignore Amy but, like Artemis, he was thinking it was a good idea to pay a little more attention. If the adults started fighting, it would be a good idea for him to get her out of this place.

"Ano, maybe we go play in my room, ne," he whispered in a flat tone of voice, beginning to become embarrassed for how the adults were behaving in front of Amy and himself. This was not the proper manner in which mature individuals conducted themselves. It was not Japanese.

Again, he had to remind himself, he was not in Japan.

"Then perhaps it is just as well you do search on your own, Wasichu!" the man with the raven-black hair barked, terminating his harsh tone words with one that Hiro could not recognize. It did not seem like Eigo, so more likely it was another language. America was a place of many foreign peoples, after all.

Fight! Fight! Fight! he heard Dancing Rain chanting in the corner of the room, as if he was wanting for the men to reduce themselves further to blows.

"Nani dai-o," the boy blurted out at the ghost, though he might as well have been directing the exclamation at the pair who seemed bent on becoming combatants. One of them was already on his feet and, as that man's words described, the child notices that the second man was indeed armed.

It was not right that the two behaved themselves this way in a meeting, or in front of children, the boy thought to himself. It would not be correct for a child to correct their behavior either, but it would be better to better to break from custom than to simply stand-by and them go at it having said or done nothing.

"Sumimasen, shitsureishimasu," the child snapped loudly, rising up from his kneeling position on the floor to stand tall beside the planter, his hands tucked into the pockets of the jeans that he wore. As he spoke, his speech was halted and broken as the boy fought to find the right words in English at that moment to express himself. "I do not believe that you, your... that this behavior is... correct."
- - - - - - - -
Quick Reference Hiro-Engrish Dictionary
Shimbun – Japanese word for "newspaper"
Gaijin – Foreigner or outsider
Do itashimashite – "You are welcome" or "think nothing of it"
Nani – "huh?"
Hai... ne – "Yes, I supposed it is"
Nani dai-o!? – "What the hell do you think you're doing!?"
Sumi... shimasu – "I am sorry to interrupt, but..."

[Madclergy]

As soon at the man took his steps towards Antonio, he stood from his seat and put his hand on his weapon in a defensive maneuver. As well he pushed the chair back away from the table so that it didn't get in his way if he had to make quick battle decisions.

“Do not think I did not notice you came to this council bearing weapons- I believe that makes your intentions here all too clear!”

"¿Usted se atreve los brazos de la toma contra mí? I am the warrior bearer of the power of HUITZILOPOCHTLI, weapons are to me as Air is to you. I do not wish to hurt you in your own home, but if you wish to confront me Vamos caminar afuera"

Antonio's voice was gruff with the obvious transferal from Antonio to Guerro. His accent rung through the words like a bell, the sound clear with each word. It was as if he was personally putting it their.