United Heroes MUSH - User contributions [en]

12317/Atlantis Meeting

2020-10-30T02:17:55Z

Tempest: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2020/10/09 |Location=Atlantis Poseidonis Embassy, Oyster Bay |Synopsis=Concerns for the Atlantis field trip are raised and addressed. Xiomara bows..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2020/10/09
|Location=Atlantis Poseidonis Embassy, Oyster Bay
|Synopsis=Concerns for the Atlantis field trip are raised and addressed. Xiomara bows out. Fears are raised and confronted.
|Cast of Characters=9660,113,9674,8765,9604,248,9741,9712,9643
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' The school bus deposited the kids at the embassy was comfortable enough for most. The Embassy has a lot of water, but given just what nation this ground belongs to that is no real surprise. The place is immaculate. Even better, there is food. A buffet line set up with mounds of teenage favorites alongside some healthy vegetarian offerings. Garth was a teenage hero. Teenagers can pack it away, and Garth's staff has seen to it that the food is hot, plentiful, and tasty. Holograms display vast city shots of the ocean and the 'skyline' (waterline?) of Poseidonis. Lights fade away into dark blue waters that fade away into inky black, starless, still, deep, and tranquil impossibly deep waters. Lights form soft nimbuses amidst the inky darkness. It is a scene hard to replicate above water. Scenes flicker in and out at a slow pace. Showing mermaids and mermen, atlanteans, some using technology others wielding what appears to be magic. It is a casual sort of images; the sort of thing one would show in a travel magazine. The students and staff are afforded time to get situated before Garth joins them. He moves through the buffet line, picking at it a little. Seems he likes the stuffing that was set out; it must not be something easy to get in Atlantis. Setting at his spot at the table, Garth smiles at everyone. "I'm Prince Garth of Shayeris, and I am so happy to meet all of you. Miss Frost has spoken about her students with a rather fierce pride and an almost maternal affection. You must all be very special people, and I look forward to getting to know you better. I am the ambassador of my nation, essentially half of the Atlantean possessions. My king is Aquaman, not the Sub-Mariner. I want to talk to you about the trip, how things will work, and I am here to answer your frank questions. Everything except about the bathroom." His brows rise and he reaches over to a folder and points. "We have pamphlets for that." He pauses. 'That can wait until after dessert though, eh?" His violet eyes skim over the others, though they linger on Emma for a moment or two, tilting a brow and getting a little grin on his face. "Guys. Just ask away. There is no title or protocol. You are guests in my home, speak freely and ask away. Comment too, if you must. Just realize we have an ancient culture and some of the stuff we do is simply ritual. It sometimes does not make sense." Garth admits this conversationally. "We have three thousand years of existence below the waves, and a couple of thousand before that, depending on who it is you ask Some of our practices, like about blond kings and purple eyes in the heads of mages? Well, they are downright barbaric by your standards. There are reasons for that, but I will not lie and say they are objectively good reasons." 

:'''{{#var:113|Emma Frost (113)}} has posed:''' Emma seems mostly at ease in this place, if her usual cool reserve is anything to go by. The casual nature of getting everyone settled into a place with food -- teenagers and food always go well -- gives her time to settle. The word 'maternal' makes her quirk a brow at Garth. <Rude,> she teases him. "Before you pipe up and ask anything, bear in mind that if I think you're being outrageous or rude, there will be consequences." She peers at her students. "We are visiting a place that doesn't have a lot of experience with surface worlders in a positive way, so you will be the face of the surface world. Please do try to remember the manners I'm sure you've all been taught." 

:'''{{#var:9674|Indira Bhandari (9674)}} has posed:''' Normally Indira favors athletic style wear, but they're going to an embassy and meet a prince so she figured she should dig out something slightly more presentable. She's got on black pants, a neon purple and teal shirt, and a high cropped black blazer top. Distinctly, she's got short, matte black gloves on that seem a bit thicker and stiffer than normal. She follows the class into the embassy, her eyes not stopping for a second as she takes in the new sights. When there's food to be had, she helps herself to the vegetarian options and doesn't seem picky about their contents otherwise. As the meal wanes and Garth begins speaking, she dutifully listens in as opposed to cramming more food in her mouth. For her apparent flamboyance, she's shown so far that someone seems to have hammered some table manners into her. When the time for questions comes about, she stalls for time as she sucks down several mouthfuls of water before remarking, "Well, I guess the first thing is... what /shouldn't/ we do? Like, what's considered rude, or insulting? That's usually rule one of visiting new countries." 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      For a being that looked more as if she belonged in the air, Shannon seemed oddly at home in the embassy. The images that flickered in and out of existence around them each brought a smile to her face, each with a draw nearly as powerful as the edible offerings that have been left out for the guests of the evening. There had thankfully been enough time for her to change into something with a bit more decorum than her attire of earlier in the day, opting for dark blue jeans, calf-length caramel suede boots, and a wine-colored turtleneck. As usual, she has her little brown leather pouch with her.      A smile tugs the corners of her lips upwards as she reaches out to brush her fingers through the hologram of the 'skyline' of Atlantis itself. "Very beautiful," she murmurs, gazing at the image a minute longer, before turning her attention to the food. It would not do to be rude by ignoring something that the Prince had gone to such trouble to have set up!      As she moves to join the others near the table, she smiles over at Garth, sketching a somewhat theatrical bow with an outward flick of her wings. "Thank you and yours for this hospitality, Your Highness. This is not the first I've encountered one of your own, but it has been a little while."      The rather telling glance over at Miss Frost has the winged teen lofting her brows, and hiding her smile behind her hand. However, she at least has the grace to say nothing on the matter--at least for the moment!      Glancing over at Indi, she nods in agreement, sitting down along with the others. "Indeed. And just as important, are there things we -should- do?" 

:'''{{#var:9604|Jeremy Statton (9604)}} has posed:''' Tagging along with the group is Jeremy, who is dressed in a pair of black slacks, a button down black shirt and a tie. It appears that he dressed 'up' for a trip to a royal embassy. The young techno-path is also wearing his glasses along with his long black trench coat. He looks more 'vampire' now than he does Goth. No dog collar at least. Once he settles down next to Shannon and Indira, he folds his hands in front of him to listen to the lessons and rules. He reaches up and shifts his glasses into place. 

:'''{{#var:248|Megan Gwynn (248)}} has posed:''' Megan Gwynn is dressed in dark blue jeans and a shimmery blue green halter top resembling fish scales, which maybe she wore in hopes of fitting in or something. Either way she seems to enjoy the beautiful sights and sounds as she peers this way and that, wandering about but not straying too far from the group. Still, there's just sooo much to see and take in, and she's always been fascinated by the sea, even if she's never really gone on any major sea voyages..Or undersea treks. Either way, Megan joins the others at the table, wondering where to even start! 

:'''{{#var:9741|Tabitha Barr (9741)}} has posed:'''     This whole trip was something set up just before Tabitha arrived at Xavier's, but when she heard about it her curiosity was certainly piqued. Bar Harbor may have done its level best to ignore her entire existence, but she's still blood and bone a Maine fishing town girl. Her recent introduction to the whole 'shopping' thing has even allowed her to dress the part. Bulky light tan cable-knit sweater that could pass for a sensible dress on her tiny frame, wool watch cap, jeans, boots, and wool socks pulled up over the jean legs. Other than the watch cap it all has a look of straight off the shelf. She has foregone her veil and gloves so her chalk pale skin and solid black eyes are on open display.     She tends to stay in the shadow of Shannon's wings, inclining in a silent sort of best attempt at a bow as Shannon greets Garth. Then she's gathering up a healthy teenage plate of food, well two healthy plates. Tiny body, big furnace. She listens quietly while introductons and admonisions are made, then questions start being asked. After a time she gathers her courage and speaks up. "Is it very cold there? I... have to be careful of cold." 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' Indira's question makes Garth smile. He replies. "Generally? There are fewer societal taboos. We are hard to offend. People might be touchy when it comes to you as you are surface dwellers, but an apology will smooth that over. Aquaman and I will see to it if you genuinely offend someone or inadvertently break something it will ultimately be a financial windfall for them." Garth pauses. "Which means do not go crazy while there, but you are encouraged to explore. We want you to both see and to be seen. You are all exceptional people. Emma has vouched for you all." >I am not rude. You are a mother hen. It is endearing.< Garth looks to Emma, nods, then looks back to Indira. "Just be honest. Be good, and if you make a mistake, you will be fine. Please refrain from making it sound like you feel your culture is better. Even if to you it certainly will be. You are ambassadors. I will have guides for you. They are younger folks, and they are sworn to not turn you in. Do not ditch them?" Garth tilts a brow. "I hope that answers your question." Smoothly he pivots over to Shannon. "That is another great question. Have an open mind. Try new things? Be open to new experiences, but also say if you feel uncomfortable. If you are scared or uncomfortable, speak up. Atlantean society places a high value on ritual and the rules of hospitality. You are, by law, not yet adults. You are also guests of the king. You will be humored and taken care of. I expect people will be quick to please and share. Others, not so much. If you feel unsafe, get out. I will smooth over anything and there will be no consequences if you leave when you feel you need to." Garth says that last bit with a deep, certain confidence. "Also, guys. My name is Garth. Not your highness. Not your grace. You are not my subjects. Please, call me Garth. Even if Emma has asked you to call me by some title." He pivots to Tabitha. "Extraordinarily. The water pressure would also reduce your bones to jelly, and you cannot breathe underwater. All of those needs will be met by magic. I would? respectfully caution you against removing the necklace you are given to prevent those lethal side effects. Removal of the necklace will teleport you back to the Embassy, and it will be basically impossible to come back. Your trip will be over." He pauses. "You'll feel like it is a warm Spring's day. Shorts and Tshirt weather. Atlanteans are resistant to the cold, and we do not tend to wear a lot of extra clothes because of it. Especially Tritonian women." He gives a little shrug. "So? you might see some more skin than you are accustomed to. You have been warned." He makes a slight face at that. 

:'''{{#var:113|Emma Frost (113)}} has posed:''' Emma sips from her water, composed and interested in what the students will think to ask. She didn't do a lot of coaching of them before this visit. She merely offered the thought that it would be interesting to see a culture that had been cut off from the surface for so long. And she did warn that there was a different level of formality involved -- told them to imagine being British and a bit proper and they'd do fine. She didn't tell them to use his title, merely to used manners. She nods approvingly at the questions offered. Very good place to start, all of the questions. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      Smiling a bit sheepishly at Garth, Shannon nods once. "My apologies. I was brought up a little bit old-fashioned by some standards, to use titles for respect until shown otherwise." The matter of the necklaces did have her pursing her lips, as she nibbled on some fruit and cheese. "I'm guessing that magic will also prevent accidental loss of the necklaces, and any removal would need to be intentional?" The thought of the necklaces floating away on accident flashed briefly through her mind, and the less-than-pleasant consequences thereof. 

:'''{{#var:9674|Indira Bhandari (9674)}} has posed:''' Indira Bhandari listens in on the cautions regarding the magic protecting them from the perils of the ocean and she does hold up a gloved hand while pointing to it with the other. She looks to Emma more so than Garth as she says, "Sooo, if we're underwater then that brings a worry I had. My powers are electric based. I tend to give people static shock when they touch me. Anywhere. It's why I tend to avoid pools. I grabbed some rubberized gloves before coming here in case I needed to shake hands or something. I don't wanna accidentally electric eel anyone down there." 

:'''{{#var:9604|Jeremy Statton (9604)}} has posed:''' As he listens, Jeremy gives his phone a firm squeeze. He has it in an Otterbox, followed by a vacuum sealed sandwich bag. He stares down at it for a moment before looking back up at the others. Indi's question causes him to glance over towards her with concern. 

:'''{{#var:248|Megan Gwynn (248)}} has posed:''' Megan Gwynn blinks a bit as Garth explains the process. She nods to Shannon's comments, kinda wondering the same thing, "Oh yeah, will we be swimming there, taking a submarine? Magically teleporting? Do these necklaces protect us indefinitely or is there a time limit?" 

:'''{{#var:9741|Tabitha Barr (9741)}} has posed:'''     Tabitha can't really go pale, but if she could... Garth's answer about the ocean conditions causes her to briefly freeze until he mentions that accomidations are in place. Then she doesn't exactly relax, but most of the tension leaves her shoulders. "Ah. Thank you." Now she knows to dress for late Maine fall and just has to take being underwater into account. As that question had been taking up most of her brain on the way here she returns to quiet nibbling and listening. When Indira voices concerns over her own powers, Tabby leans towards her a bit.     "If you find yourself building up too much charge or otherwise need to release any electricity safely while we're down there, give me a nudge if I'm around. My event horizon can draw in any excess." 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' "Yes." Garth tells Shannon, meeting her gaze with his purple eyes. They are kind eyes, but his voice is certain. "They will be more chokers or collars. They will have to be removed via force, or by your hand, mine, or Miss Frost." Garth lifts a brow and spares her a little smile. "And again? Removal means a splash of water and ending up on my floor here with several gallons of seawater. You will be safe from the environment while you are there." Tabitha gets a playful little nod back. "You are welcome." He says it warmly. "It was a great question." "See! Your students are brilliant, Emma." It isn't an act. Garth looks at Indira all excited. "Your powers should work normally, but knowing that, I can make sure of that and enchant your necklace special for that." Garth seems genuinely impressed. He scribbles down a note to himself before pointing the tip of the end at Indira. He notes to Emma. "She should get extra credit." He wrinkles his nose as he smiles at Emma. He raps his knuckles on the table, looking genuinely thrilled. "So. Don't feel the need to wear rubber gloves on this trip, okay?" His smile is broad and guileless. "Swimming."Garth says, breaking off from gushing at Indira to give Pixie a smile. "They are good as long as worn. You will be surrendering them when we are done. My magic will be empowering them, and I will do so personally. You will find you are quite mobile while wearing them. I even think I have all the side effects mostly handled!" >Mostly.< He admits telepathically. "And any side effects will be ended when it is removed." He looks at Jeremy for a moment. he opens his mouth as if to address the young man, shuts it, then manages. "You can ask anything. I am not going to judge you." 

:'''{{#var:113|Emma Frost (113)}} has posed:''' "Jeremy," Emma says quietly, "Atlantis is quite advanced technologically, but I believe we will need to make sure that you can access their version of internet lines." She doesn't often delve into his mind -- it's chaotic. <His abilities are technological in nature. I did not think to ask you whether someone like a technopath would even be able to join the group.> Which, of course, is the reason that Emma brought them here. They each have things that they'll think to ask so as to make sure they're covered. Emma gives Jeremy the courtesy of expanding or not on that additional assurance that she offered, as he chooses. She does slant a glance at Garth as she conveys the small bit of information privately. The outward half-smile is easy. "They have many opportunities in all of this to earn extra credit." 

:'''{{#var:9604|Jeremy Statton (9604)}} has posed:''' As he gives another squeeze of his phone, his voice comes out through the speakers, muffed by the plastic bag. << I'm afraid of water. I'm also afraid of drowning in water. I'm also afraid that if my phone gets wet I will not be able to talk to anyone very well. >> He has a lot of fears, obviously. The most terrified New Mutant of them all! << I'm not a good swimmer. I can kinda dog paddle >> In the shallow end. His shoulders give a visible slump as he gives his phone a tighter grip for a moment, wrinkling the plastic. << I'll try my best to keep up. I don't mind seeing naked fish people. I have seen worse things online. >> 

:'''{{#var:248|Megan Gwynn (248)}} has posed:''' Megan Gwynn nods to Jeremy, "I mean, yeah..I'm a fairly strong swimmer but like..How far and how long would we be swimming for? And is there anything these collars don't protect us from? What about sharks and jellyfish?" 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      Shannon nods, and smiles, although there was perhaps a faintly disappointed look. "Thank you. I have to admit to being a little disappointed at needing to relinquish the necklaces when the trip is through, but it's understandable. To most of us on the surface, the name Atlantis calls to mind myths and ancient tales. Yet here we are, finding that those stories are, indeed, based very much in reality."      As she glances to each at the table in turn, she smiles, though her wings remain somewhat protectively spread out behind those sitting closest to her--Jeremy, Indira, and Tabitha. "I'm curious, are there any taboos against recording images of what we see? It'd be wonderful to have something of the trip with us, but if it's forbidden, then perhaps not so much. Also..." Here, perhaps those who know her best might hear the gears in her mind turning. "...I'd the idea of perhaps bringing a similar gift, images of places on the surface world that might not otherwise be seen to your people. Would that be considered appropriate, and if so, who would such a gift be entrusted to?"      Smiling over at Jeremy, she leans over to give him a one-armed hug. "Hey... you did alright when I was trying to teach you over the summer. We could practice again soon if you want, so you'll be okay for the trip." 

:'''{{#var:9712|Xiomara Batista (9712)}} has posed:''' "Madre de Dios." The words are murmured low, kept on the quiet end. They are also the first words Xio has said since she arrived here. She's been sitting in the back of the group, arms crossed, listening to the entire explanation of what the group has been chosen to do. The questions are being thrown about, most of them seem happy about it. She's feeling a little more like Jeremy looks. She'd says sounds but the phone doesn't give away much on that part. "Ambassadors and making a good impression? Cause you gotta know that I'm not good at that stuff. You want to start a fight with someone, I'm your gal. I have a big mouth and tend to speak my mind and probably am not a good one to get insulted for being from the land without giving back. So..." she makes a little face. "Can I have my permission slip back please and I'll head back to the school?" 

:'''{{#var:9643|Ted Gammage (9643)}} has posed:''' Through the whole thing Ted's been quiet. He's been quiet a lot lately, not that he was exactly a chatterbox before. He remains with the group, just listening and taking in as much as he can. If he has questions, he doesn't ask, but he does seem to be a little wary. He doesn't have a great relationship with water as his mutant abilities, great as they are, remove his natural buoyancy. 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' "That is a lot of fears." Garth answers. His tone is not at all belittling. He considers them. "The swimming is not a concern. You will find it is the same to you as walking." he wiggles his fingers. "Magic will handle that." He continues, his tone serious, to address these real concerns. "The drowning is not a concern. I promise." He keeps his eyes on As to your phone?" Garth considers. "I'll send you an Atlantean bit of technology. A gift? It will have a speaker and it will connect to our internet equivalent. What sort of voice do you want it to have?" Garth takes notes as he speaks. To anyone reading it, he has very price, clear handwriting. It is clear though garbled with Atlantean words as well as English. He pulls in a breath. "And swimming lessons if that will help your confidence? I can teach you to swim." He's confident. "And I admire you for speaking of your fears. When I was a lad I was afraid of schooling fish. They terrified me." His voice is gentle. He looks to Xiomara. "If you must. Of course. But if Atlantis survived the original Titans, it can survive you." His smile is soft and tinged with sadness. "Let me reiterate? The necklaces will make you as comfortable under water as you are on land." He shakes his head at Shannon. "They aren't ready for that. They might not be in your lifetime. It's been thousands of years for them, and for many? they can never go on land, they have lost the ability to breathe air. Your kindness might be cruelty." He pauses. "And regardless? We're not fish people. There are no gills on me." 

:'''{{#var:9741|Tabitha Barr (9741)}} has posed:'''     Tabitha blinks a bit at hearing they will be swimming to Atlantis. She knows how, having lived thirty feet from the Atlantic until quite recently, but the distance involved scrambled her brain for a brief moment. She settles back into listening as other bring up the finer points of the travel plans. There is something tickling at the corners of her mind but talk of the journey and Jeremy's admission of fear distract her for a time. Then it hits her and the mental 'oh shit' is strong in this one.     She glances between Garth and Miss Frost a few times, not sure who she should ask /this/ particular question or if she should do so out loud. Then she looks at her lap and tries to calm her mind enough to try using one of the tips and tricks she's learned while at Xavier's. She brings up a mental image of Miss Frost and sort of thinks of softly clearing her throat before thinking as clearly as she can. >>Miss Frost? I might present a problem to the necklaces. My event horizon hasn't been tested against magic.<< Her mind is awash with the problems that could be caused if the necklaces turned inert on or around her. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      Shannon just nods slowly, her wings drooping visibly. "I'm sorry." Though she does try to keep her expression even, there is a quality to her silence that speaks volumes. She settles back to listen to the others for a moment, nodding a greeting to Ted and Xio as they join in. "You and yours are reaching out to us, I'd hoped we might offer the same." 

:'''{{#var:9674|Indira Bhandari (9674)}} has posed:''' "Probably safer to just treat this like an intro course and leave anything more diplomatic like gifts and deals with the actual diplomats." Indira suggests with a big of a shrug. "We're just a bunch of kids on a field trip. I think I'll have enough to worry about just trying to adapt. I'm glad that you guys may be able to do something just to hold my powers back. I don't think it'll be an issue, but I'd rather not use the trip as a testing ground either. Worse comes to worse, if something gets wooly, Tabitha can help out and you all can just kick me back to the surface." 

:'''{{#var:113|Emma Frost (113)}} has posed:''' Bringing a smile to her face, Emma adds to Jeremy. "If you are willing to face all of these concerns, Jeremy, we will support you every step. If you decide it's too much, the necklace will teleport you right back. There will be no censure for doing such; it's meant as much for fun as for learning. Does that help?" And to Shannon, she says, "It is a generous and lovely thought. Perhaps instead of bringing the images, you might choose instead to ask if someone would like any. If they say no, there are no hurt feelings involved," she points out. Turning her eyes to Tabitha, the blonde tips her head. "Tabitha... before we leave tonight, I think it would be prudent for you to let Garth know what has worked for you so that he knows how to attempt to build his spell." 

:'''{{#var:9604|Jeremy Statton (9604)}} has posed:''' << As long as I can connect to the device, I can speak through it, I believe. I don't know. I guess we can test it and see what happens.. >> Jeremy gives another squeeze of his hands around the phone in his usual nervous manner, staring at the device wrapped in plastic. 

:'''{{#var:9643|Ted Gammage (9643)}} has posed:''' Ted fidgets a little bit. The talk of magic and spells kind of doesn't sit with him. He's not had experience with it, and maybe there's a little holdover from people in his old community yelling at him about how sorcery is evil. He gives Jeremy a glance as they talk about Atlantean tech. "Be interestin' to see if it works," he says. "Y'should ask for a really cool voice. Get a Darth Vader thing going," he suggests with a half-smile. 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' Pulling in a breath, Garth bobs his head. "Our leadership is reaching out. The populace is uncertain. You merely being there is enough. Trust me, please." Garth smiles, gently. "If you are intent on such things? Little, durable, water-resistant small objects for your guides would be appropriate." Garth compromises. Garth nods to Jeremy. "We will test it before. I'll send it to Emma, or I will bring it out to her some evening after your classes." He flicks his gaze to Emma. He looks about the table. "Any other concerns?" he asks in his warm tone, his smile soft on his face. He can read some nerves in the room. "I have done this sort of thing before. You will all be fine. I am more than just an Atlantean prince. I am a founding member of the titans, if you recall." he manages to sit up a little bit at that. "Neither Emma, nor I will allow any harm to come to you. " 

:'''{{#var:9712|Xiomara Batista (9712)}} has posed:''' "I don't know about original Titans," Xio admits, chewing at her bottom lip a moment. "I just know that I'm a special sort of student at Xavier's. With a whole lot of things that I've done that aren't really suited to setting a good example. I mean I appreciate the offer but I think it's best." 

:'''{{#var:9741|Tabitha Barr (9741)}} has posed:'''     Tabitha isn't so deep in her own worries that she fails to notice Shannon's reaction. She quietly reaches over to give her bestie's leg a comforting squeeze. She leans over with a small smile to whisper, "Always the healer." Talk of what voice Jeremy should ask for brings a grin. "Maybe slip in a classic Snow White singing voice."     Miss Frost bringing her concern audible actually relaxes her back to normal. If Emma feels that it's not such a large concern to be kept private she's more than willing to accept that judgement. When there is a moment between other topics she looks to Garth and squares her shoulders. "I do have one last concern. It's in regard to my powers. I'm an energy siphon. Anything I touch I can drain, but I've never been exposed to magic before. We should test to make certain I won't turn the necklace inert when I put it on?" 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      Shannon nods, and smiles a bit more brightly, both to Garth and to Miss Frost. "There is still a little time to consider it. Thank you both." To Garth, she nods, and smiles warmly. "Indeed, I can't but think well of your leadership, if you and Mera are any examples to go by. She and two of her guards were the first of your people I had a chance to meet, and it's remembered fondly."      Glancing around at her friends, her smile remains, though she nudges Jeremy with a bit of a grin. "Either Darth Vader, or maybe you could go Data. Or even Luke." Her wings ruffle happily behind her, tucking in neatly behind her back, as she looks back to Garth. "I can't quite think of further questions, but should any of us have any between now and the trip, would we field them through Miss Frost first?" 

:'''{{#var:9643|Ted Gammage (9643)}} has posed:''' Ted glances at his fellow students, even pats Jeremy very gently on the shoulder as he gets quiet, assuming he's fiddling with new tech. He gives a look around, grinning as Shannon echos his Vader statement, "Ah think it'd suit'im," He seems more amused about this, and it seems to ease his tension and worry. 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:'''     Concerns raised and addressed, the students finish their meal and are taken back to school by Emma. 
}}

12386/Be very very quiet We're hunting pigeons!

2020-10-27T02:40:05Z

Tempest: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2020/10/27 |Location=The Swole Skyrat's Lair |Synopsis=The formerly immense Pigeon 21, now named 'Stinky', is placed in the custody of Supergirl. G..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2020/10/27
|Location=The Swole Skyrat's Lair
|Synopsis=The formerly immense Pigeon 21, now named 'Stinky', is placed in the custody of Supergirl. Garth earns a long shower.
|Cast of Characters=9660,55
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' Downtown Manhattan. The city that never sleeps! The Big apple! The eternal city! It's past Dusk and getting chilly. Not that the maiden of steel or her plucky Atlantean companion feel such temperature variations. Instead. The pair patrol through the area. Supergirl's nose is better than Garth's; she scents it first. Him shortly thereafter; Uric acid. A little more patrolling and there it is. A mound of pale, disgusting putrescence that coats a parked yellow cab like something out of a horror film. As Garth approaches he has his lancet in hand, a faint nimbus of blue magic lighting the tip of the three pronged magical weapon. His nose wrinkles. "It is almost majestic." He breathes outwards in a soft exclamation of awe. "I mean, on the surface? That is a lot of --" He doesn't swear in front of Supergirl. "--spore. I mean, that is whale sized." The smell is awful. Garth gives a whistle between his teeth. "Birds don't get this big normally?" He asks, uncertain. He lifts a brow. "Not normally anyways, right? This is not some obscure cryptid that has been extinct for a century?" 

:'''{{#var:55|Supergirl (55)}} has posed:''' Supergirl hovers. Mainly because she is terrified some of that stuff might shift and get on her boots. It might also be like the Bog of Eternal Stench and she might have to get new boots. She liked these boots. Better to err on the side of caution. She was also holding her nose, pinching it closed with her right hand. Thus when she spoke, it had a nasal quality to it. "No, that isn't normal for birds on this planet. Although in mythology there were stories of rocs which were like gigantic ones but that was just myth." She pauses, considering what she just said. "Considering we both have likely met some mythological beings ourselves and fought alongside them, maybe I shouldn't be too hasty about a roc not existing." 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:'''     "What? Your hunting for a giant bird with your pal, the magic-wielding Atlantean prince?" Garth asks, trying really hard not to laugh. His eyes are very wide as he teases her. He pauses a beat, clearing his throat. He is actually grateful. "So. I'm normal to you?" Garth''s chest subtly rises with a touch of pride. "I swear, between you and Miss Frost I might actually start to like myse--" She hears it before he does, but Garth whips his head about to espy a huge silhouette briefly blot out the moon with its immense, blunted, triangular wings. Supergirl's hair flutters in the downdraft as the giant gray and white form flies downwards, and inelegantly smashes into a trash dumpster. The creature seems to have issues flying. There is a crash as the dumpster gets rolled over and garbage is strewn about so the pigeon can feast upon the debris. Monstrous coos come from the beast, and it's beak gouges the concrete as it swallows down garbage left and right. "That's something you don't see everyday." There is a glint of metal at the creature's left leg. 

:'''{{#var:55|Supergirl (55)}} has posed:''' "Well as normal as I am, said by the alien from outer space who has to treat the world around like cardboard," comes the gigling response from Supergirl. "So don't let it go to your head. You should like yourself though! I mean, you're smart and cute and funny and cute and...wait I already used cute." Hearing the sound, Supergirl's head quickly turns that direction. Her eyes widen as she sees something she has never seen before. The pigeon is enormous. Big enough that the dumbster is only a fraction of it's size. "Uhm...Steroids maybe? What in the world made it get that big?!" She sees the glint of metal and, yay for super vision. She tries to focus on the band, to see if it says anything. "Don't metal bands usually mean a bird belongs to someone or something?" 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' "You need to meet Emma. Tell her what a catch I am." Garth's cheeks are almost painfully scarlet at the compliments, or because of the horrid fish pun. Where was this girl when he was invisible as a teenager? For a moment his brows twist into a bit of dismay, but Garth resists the urge to sulk and pout. "You are awesome yourself, Supergirl. If I was a few years younger I would be your biggest fan." Garth almost cringes, as if waiting for that to blow up in his face. He doesn't seem to consider himself good with girls. His vision seems to go distant. "It is not magic." He says, voice distant as he looks the creature over. Her kryptonian gaze reveals the information 'Subject 21' stamped on the steel tube that curls around the pigeon's ankle. It's claws are longer than her arm. The beak is large enough to fit Garth's torso in it. The massive eye on the side of its head twitches, the focuses on the blue nimbus of Garth's trident. "Yeah. It's like the place where a falconer puts an identity band? Like a dog collar?" Garth asks as he focuses back in. The pigeon spreads its wings wide. Some of the pinions show trimmed ends; it's wings have been clipped! Which explains its destructive landing. The pigeon's coos are the volume of a lion's roar. "I don't speak pigeon, but it sounds hungry to me." 

:'''{{#var:55|Supergirl (55)}} has posed:''' "I didn't exactly bring a giant bag of birdseed with me. Or a truckload of bread, which is what this guy would be needing," Supergirl mutters as she eyes the giant beastie. "The band says Subject 21. Which makes he think he belongs to someone. Not a pet as they usually have better names like Streaky or Fido. Subject 21 sounds like an animal in a lab." She looks to the trident then back to the bird. "He seems to like shiny though. Something to remember. Okay, so he has clipped wings, thus someone didn't want him flying around. Yet here he is and the damaged poo covered cars people have been talking about means he's been loose for a bit. The question is, who does he belong to? I haven't seen any missing posts on poles for that!" She hooks her free hand at the bird. She's still holding her nose with the other as they are too close to the defiled taxi still for her olfactory senses. 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' The pigeon is far faster than a creature of its size should be. With a flick of its wings it hops over towards the duo and whips it's head down to grasp the trident in its beak. Garth starts to jerk back on it. "Hey! Leggo!" The creature is at least stronger than the Atlantean. Garth gets lifted oof his feet and 21 whips him and the trident about violently. The Garth refuses to let go. "Ohh Shiii--!" The pigeon flicks a wing at Supergirl, attempting to knock her over as if at advances. It whips Garth about and loses its grip on the atlantean metal. "No!" There is crack of metal and a disgusting spray of? filth as Garth gets tossed into the goop-covered taxi. He is okay, but is gagging and retching. "My mouth was open! Oh.. " He heaves but nothing comes up as he sits, covered in filth, the door of the taxi crumpled in. He heaves again, retching. His atlantean senses betray him. 

:'''{{#var:55|Supergirl (55)}} has posed:''' The wing manages to hit her mainly because Supergirl was distracted. And giggling. She is a failure as a hero but the image of Garth getting tossed around like a rag doll at the whim of a giant pigeon? It was too much and she had to giggle. It's all fun and games until someone takes a wing to the face. She goes sprawling herself, thankfully /away/ from the stank taxi. Garth was not so lucky and now it isn't nearly as funny. "Don't heave. If you do, I will too. Then it'll be even messier around here!" Like telling him is going to help? She'd gag too! "Bad Birdie! No! That is not your shiny! Just take us to your person and I promise to get you a barge filled with seeds!" She's trying to reason with a giant bird. Superman would be so proud. 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' Garth once tasted a poison in his pizza. He has the refined palette of an Atlantean. And he has bird mess in his mouth. He goes to all fours, trying to wipe his eyes free of the filth, gagging and coughing up the mess. For the moment, he just crouches in the stinking, still warm mess and heaves. "Sorry!" He heaves more.     he pigeon is attracted to shiny things, and the trident is now obscured in the slimy muck. But the Maiden of steel's golden hair gleams in the midnight and the bird attempts to snatch Supergirl up by her hair with a squawk and a vicious shake of her giant head. 

:'''{{#var:55|Supergirl (55)}} has posed:''' Supergirl has gotten to her feet just as she realizes reasoning is not working. "Okay, going to need to try some--" The words are cut short as she finds herself in the air, being flung around until thankfully her silky locks slide free of the bird's beak. She slams into a nearby building, about three stories up, just seeming to hang there a moment. Then she turns, floating out from the spot as she reachs up to be sure her hair is all still there. Karma's a bitch, obviously. That's what she got for laughing at Garth getting tossed around. "It's just an animal doing what animal's do. I don't want to hit it..." She's going to end up having to hit it. "Maybe we can trap it inside some where? I can get an empty shipping container from the shipyard!" 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' Coughing and gagging, Garth manages to choke out. "Distract it? I have a spell I looked up for this!" He starts to sort through the? muck? digging for his trident. After a moment he gives up and points his left hand at a nearby hydrant. Water rumbles and a jet of sluicing water sprays out of the hydrant. The water would flay the skin off a person, as Garth's hydromancy is accelerating it. The spray causes the taxi's paint to peel and it slides sideways into the street, its tires squealing and leaving marks as it is pressed sideways. Garth remains crouches, as the poo is washed off him.He fumbles for his trident and forces himself to stand, gargling the water for a moment before spitting. "Great Poseidon." he snarls, dripping wet and steaming, but significantly less poo-drenched. The pigeon's massive beak snaps at Supergirl's head, trying to rip it off her pretty neck like the head of a dandelion. 

:'''{{#var:55|Supergirl (55)}} has posed:''' She had learned her lesson! This time she was ready for it and Supergirl nimbly dodged to the left. Still about three stories up because she was going to be ready to move now, not a sitting duck on the ground where she was limited on the directions she could dodge. "Whatever you are going to do, do it quick. This thing thinks my head is a sunflower seed or something!" She whooshes over to the side. "Between my head or your trident, we should be able to get it to where you need for your spell though!" 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' Garth spreads his arms wide, then brings his hands together, spinning his trident for a moment before exclaiming something in Atlantean. There is no getting around it. It almost sounds like something Harry Potter would incant. A beam of glittering light lances off the trident. It misses the bird, which is criminally bad aim considering the bird's size. It narrowly misses Supergirl, deflects off a window and strikes a vehicle, immediately shrinking the vehicle to the size of a matchbox truck before continuing on to strike the bird with a squawk. There is an explosion of giant feathers and the bird's noises go far more quiet until finally there is a tiny little pigeon cooing up at Supergirl and running towards her as if to seek comfort and protection. Apparently 21 is a domestic pigeon. 

:'''{{#var:55|Supergirl (55)}} has posed:''' As the beam goes all over the place, Supergirl can't stop herself. "I've heard of not being able to hit the broadside of a barn. I didn't realize it was actually /possible/ until now!" Then the pigeon is far smaller than it was. And he was after her still! Wait, no. "Aww, you poor thing." Just like that, all is forgiven. Supergirl scoops up the little bird in her hand cuddling it in close and protected. "It's okay. It's all over now. I'll get you some food right away now that it won't require me to empty out the entire stock at a pet food store." A look at Garth. "That was a great spell. Thank you. I just really didn't want to hit it. But we need to figure out where it came from. How that happened. If there are numbers 1 through 20 out there, we need to know." 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' "It's in my eye!" Garth says dropping his trident to allow the water to sluice over his face, sputtering and gagging again.He honks his nose. His shoulders shudder in revulsion a couple of times.His lips curl. "I am eating chicken every day for a week you beastly little thing!" Not Garth's most shining of moments. That said, he's got most of the? ick? off him now. Shoulders shuddering again in revulsion, he gestures at the hydrant and the water stomps. He walks over to get the cap for the hydrant and begins hand screwing it back on. It takes him a couple of moments to nod. "You're a Titan now if you want it. You are right. It is just a stupid, filthy, disgusting animal." he might still be a little upset.He pulls in a breath. "You should keep it, just in case the spell wears off before we can figure out what happened to it." 

:'''{{#var:55|Supergirl (55)}} has posed:''' Supergirl puts a hand over the miniature pigeon, as though protecting it. "You're going to hurt his feelings!" She has no idea if it is a he. She isn't going to find out either. It is forever a he now in her mind and that's that. Eyeing the remains of the car further down the road, the water working into the drains with a lovely smear of color from the poo going with it. "I get why you are upset. Should go shower. For a week. Hot as you can take it." She eyes the little pigeon. "His name is now Stinky. For the moment. I'll probably change it tomorrow." Then she makes a face. "Or not. By Rao, you couldn't have done that before I picked you up?" she mutters as she shifts the bird to her opposite hand and flicks something out of her palm from the one it just vacated. 
}}

12293/Poker Night

2020-10-23T03:00:08Z

Tempest: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2020/10/05 |Location=Game Room, Avengers Mansion |Synopsis=Jane Foster meets the Avengers. Thor and Shulkie eat chicken wings until at least one of..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2020/10/05
|Location=Game Room, Avengers Mansion
|Synopsis=Jane Foster meets the Avengers. Thor and Shulkie eat chicken wings until at least one of them is ill. Just another night at Avengers Mansion.
|Cast of Characters=1567,137,108,107,192,8645,93
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1567|Wonder Man (1567)}} has posed:''' The game room is decked out. Several bottles of very expensive liquor have been bought and set out. Buckets of ice and a folding table that all but creaks and groans under a mountainous pile of things that Simon knows are people's favorites. The place smells heavenly, the flavors wafting down the hallways like some sort of Warner brothers cartoon; the trails of delicious steams seeking to plunge like fingers into the nostrils of those in the area. The room has been set up for things other than eating and drinking. Part of the room is pushed to the wall to let people mingle or dance; there is music playing. The music is best described as an eclectic mix, which can also describe the team as a whole. Simon is fussing over things. He has cards and chips at the table and is trying to rearrange the last bit of the table "Who puts fries next to pizza? You put the wings by the pizza, and the fries by the wings." He is grousing. He must have lost track of the time as he is not wearing his glasses; his inhuman red gaze is available for all to see. 

:'''{{#var:137|Clint Barton (137)}} has posed:''' For once, Clint Barton, aka Hawkeye, can be seen without his bow and arrows. After all, this is the Avengers Mansion, which is practically his home. For tonight, he also traded the usual uniform for casual clothes, simple t-shirt and pants. Six pack of beers in hand, he walks in the game room, sporting that famous grin of his. Already curious about the available food, secretly hoping there's some chocolate, Clint walks to the table where the food is placed. There is -so much - of it! "Shit, Wondy, you want us to play for a week or what?" he booms, probably to startle Wonder Man. 

:'''{{#var:108|Jennifer Walters (108)}} has posed:''' Jen's happy to actually just have a little bit of down time with her fellow super-folks. Lately it's been all lawyer work, and while that pays the bills, it leaves one a little dry on any kind of social contact with peers. She walks in, in comfy jeans and t-shirt, and looks over at the food table. "Presumably you did, since you set this whole thing up?" She didn't bring food, but she'll walk over to the table. Avengers money means a really good meal that she doesn't have to pay for. "Hey, you guys." 

:'''{{#var:107|Thor (107)}} has posed:''' Heading into the room is Thor with his arm wrapped about the shoulders of a smaller woman that is Jane Foster. He's talked about her quite a bit to his fellow teammates, so by now they should know who it is they are bringing over. Tonight seems like a good night to properly introduce his paramour. "Hello!" He calls out with his deep throat of bravado. "We are here! Look at all this food. How did you know I was starving?" He grins over towards Simon as he gives Jane a nudge forward in front of him. "Everyone! This is Doctor Jane Foster. The mortal woman that I have been courting. We have known each other for quite a bit of time, but I wanted her to meet my new family." He puts her right on the spot as he motions his large hands towards her. He himself is dressed down in jeans and a tight black shirt that is snug to his body. He's left his hammer in his room, though he can snag it with a thought if need be. 

:'''{{#var:192|Janet van Dyne (192)}} has posed:''' Janet comes swaying in, little black dress, diamond stud ear rings... it's apparently as 'dressed down' as she can manage. Which is to say she only looks like she could go to -most- formal events at the drop of a hat. If she had a hat. But she doesn't. Because she's so dressed down, you see. Although she's at least accessorizing. A martini is an accessory, surely. She smiles brightly and hums cheerily, "Evening darlings and dears, this ought to be fun! ...We're playing the rules that come on that little card in the pack, right?" She puts on her best poker face... which, given how the corners of her mouth keep twitching up, does not bode well. 

:'''{{#var:8645|Jane Foster (8645)}} has posed:''' People generally don't approach game nights like going into some kind of work interview, but for one Jane Foster the concept of formal introductions with a lot entirely about her grade in - well almost anything - was an intimidating event. It doesn't help she barely owns anything that aren't scrubs. She settled on soft grey chinos and a long navy blue sweater. She attempted to put some curl in her hair, but the stubborn strands are already threatening to go straight. The badge pinned to her chest proclaims 'GUEST' about as loud as if she was screaming it after having convinced SHIELD security that she wasn't a danger and producing more forms of identification than she thought she owned. As she's escorted in and promptly introduced in Thor's booming voice, the woman freezes just momentarily. In short order she manages to stop deer-headlighting, raises a hand in her best professional wave and with her best professional smile says, "Hello everyone. It's a pleasure to meet you all finally." 

:'''{{#var:1567|Wonder Man (1567)}} has posed:''' Clint got the drop of Simon. Simon starts and has to catch a hot wing in a hand. So, that is how he meets Jane Foster, with a sloppy, messy, orange hand full of now pulverised chicken wing. Suave as Janet van Dyne he is not. Simon lifts his left brow at Clint. "Hi? Clint." He says with a winning smile; he's an actor so he hides the annoyance. He notes as Thor arrives. "Have you ever seen Thor or Shulkie eat? I'm concerned we might not have enough." It is not said in a cruel manner. Snatching a napkin, Simon tries to clean up his buffalo hand. "Doctor Foster, it is great to meet you. I'm Simon Williams. You might know me from my Emmy-nominated science show that airs--" He stops himself, and straightens. "I'm Simon. Wonder Man. No relation." His lips quirk into a breezy smile. "Nice to meet you. I have a hand full of chicken, so forgive me if I don't shake hands?" He starts over to dispose of the wing in the trash, pausing only to delicately hip check Janet and lean over to assure her "You look great as always, Miss van Dyne." Not that Janet needs that sort of reassurance. Simon has a baritone, and it doesn't normally boom the way that the God of Thunder's does. He gestures at Jen with his chicken hand. "Help yourself, everyone, please?" 

:'''{{#var:108|Jennifer Walters (108)}} has posed:''' Jen looks over, and her eyes widen when she sees Jane there. The gamma-green amazon looks over towards Jane Foster, and she says "Please tell me he didn't kill you with the flower." Pause. Wait. She's here and alive. "Maim you. Cause dire bodily harm." She remembers "advising" Thor on a gift for Jane, and that not going QUITE as expected. She groans a little, and looks to Janet. "Hey, Jan...don't suppose we could talk about an Avengers discount on some new outfits?" 

:'''{{#var:137|Clint Barton (137)}} has posed:''' After placing his beers next to the bottles of liquor, Clint turns around, visibly happy to see everyone there. It seems likes ages since so many of them gathered together. Being Hawkeye, he can't but have a good look at Jane, from a distance. Right, Thor definitely has good tastes. Grabbing some chips by the table as he returns to the center of the room, he walks to greet Jane and waits that Simon is done introducing himself.. "Welcome, Miss Foster," he says, "We finally get to meet you. I'm Hawkeye, hrm, right, you prolly know that already." He pauses, nodding at the Asgardian, "Leave some food for us, will you, Thor?" For some reason, Clint didn't call Thor by his favorite nickname of Goldielocks in front of Jane. But there's no saying how long this self-restraint will last. 

:'''{{#var:107|Thor (107)}} has posed:''' "Nope!" Thor calls over to Clint at the mention of saving him food. "Tonight, I have challenged Jennifer to a wing eating contest and I have a crown to defend!" He won last year's by three wings. It was very close. The aftermath was as destructive as a Thanos fingersnap though. Blame the Asgardian booze that was sampled during it. "I did not bring her any harm. I used the non-lethal flowers." He assures to his green skinned friend with a wide grin on his face as he plucks up a plate and begins to load it with enough food for himself and Jane. He made sure to acquire what types of food she liked ahead of time. He plucks a pair of beers as well from a table. "Jane Foster is big fans of all of you as well. It means a lot that you let me bring her." 

:'''{{#var:192|Janet van Dyne (192)}} has posed:''' Janet takes a healthy sip of her drink, if only to cover the flinch at Thor's booming exuberance, and the knowing smile at Jane's reaction. Being around Thor is... definitely an experience. She can only imagine being introduced to the Avengers by him is all the more. Her eyes light up as she looks to Jennifer, grinning -oh- so wide. Practically chershire, really. "Oh, you want me to design you some outfits? Of -course- we can discuss it!" She lifts her free hand to Jane in a small little wave, calling out, her own voice nowhere near as room-filling as Simon, Thor, or Clint. "It's lovely to meet you Jane!" She hipchecks Simon back lightly and grins brightly, "Hmm... I'd say I could get us all matching uniforms, but Tony always complains his has to be function over form." Her mouth falls open, "Wait... a wing eating contest? You... is that something we need to warn SHIELD about? You know, so they aren't puzzled by their seismic sensors?" 

:'''{{#var:8645|Jane Foster (8645)}} has posed:''' "You're good!" Jane says towards Simon by way of accepting the lack of a shake. To Clint she looks then and remarks while simultaneously sweeping a smile towards Janet, "Yeah, I heard he's had a few conversations about me. I'm glad to finally put faces to the names that he regales me about, well... faces that aren't on my television. Eventually this will all stop being surreal, I'm sure. But yes! Thank you for letting me join, it's an honor." It's mention of flowers that seems to ease away some of Jane's nervousness and there's the clear gesture of her biting the inside of her cheeks to keep from outright laughter. "Oh, oh the *flowers*. They were absolutely lovely, really. They gave me the opportunity to study some abnormally large bees that suddenly became highly interested in my window. So outside of giving me a reason to keep my windows closed for awhile, everything went fine." 

:'''{{#var:1567|Wonder Man (1567)}} has posed:''' "We're starting that now?" Simon asks, cleaning the chicken out from between his fingers. Chicken fingers. He snerks to himself. Still, it takes him a bit to scrape more of the poor wing out of his hand. Finally clean, Simon walks behind the bar to kneel down and pick up a heating pan that is stuffed to the rim with wings of unusual heat and size. The pan almost creaks as he lifts it up and starts over towards the card table. "Don't let us down, Jen." He says as he moves towards the table. He does look at Janet and mouths 'we should crack a window' at her trying not to let too many others see that. "Clint? Can you grab the two rolls of paper towels behind the bar. They are going to need them for the wings. They are really saucy." He is shaking his head. It isn't until he gets back over to the poker table that he realizes he had his glasses off. There is a moment of dismay on his face before he hastily grabs the shades and perches them back on his nose to hide his eyes once more. 

:'''{{#var:108|Jennifer Walters (108)}} has posed:''' Jennifer looks back to Janet. "Discount, Janet. I'm on a lawyer's salary. One who does more than a few pro bono cases." Janet's brilliant when it comes to fashion, but Jen worries that much like Tony, the realities that not everyone is a millionaire may come to her. Jane gets a relieved smile. "Good. Thor's great, but I think every now and again he forgets that humans are more breakable than Asgardians." And then her gaze swivels back to Thor. "Well, MOST humans. You're going down, Odinson." She rolls her shoulders and cracks her knuckles. "She-Hulk smash." 

:'''{{#var:137|Clint Barton (137)}} has posed:''' "Got it!" Clint replies to Wonder Man, already headed for the bar, where he grabs a couple rolls of paper towels. He stops just briefly to grab one of his 0.5% beers. No glass, can is just fine for him. On his way back toward the table, he stops to the women, long enough to encourage Jennifer. "Hey Greenie," he chuckles, "I've got 5 bucks on you. But be wary, men in love get hungry!" He then smiles at Janet, visibly happy to see her as well. "It's good to see you, Janet. It's been a while." He looks over at the table where Simon is busy with the wings. "I better bring him his paper towels, ShellHead will burst an artery if we get too messy!" 

:'''{{#var:107|Thor (107)}} has posed:''' "Why are thou betting against a God for?!" Thor calls over to his friends. You're hurting my feelings." He says in a good natured manner. "At least Jane will think I'll win, right?" He places the plates of food down in front of himself and Jane as he eases down into a chair after pulling one out for her. He gives her a wide, white toothed grin to the Doctor. "We do not have to jump right into the challenge immediately. We should take the chance to talk and get to know each other, and Jane!" He curls an arm around her shoulders once he cracks a bottle of beer open and hands it to her. "What have everyone been up to? It has been awhile since we have got together as a unit to take down something mighty." 

:'''{{#var:192|Janet van Dyne (192)}} has posed:''' Janet laughs and bobs her head at Jennifer, "Okay, okay, -lawyer- salary outfit. No unstable molecules or pym particles in the fabric. Don't worry, I have a very generous friend discount!" She claps her hands lightly and laughs, shifting to look towards Thor. "Oh, oh! Me first! I've been up to... okay, a lot of really boring company stuff that I'm -purposely not thinking about." She pauses for a moment, lips quirking. "Yep... that's about it. Shockingly little costumed mischief for me lately." 

:'''{{#var:1567|Wonder Man (1567)}} has posed:''' "It has been too long." Simon quietly agrees with Thor. "I miss it." His shoulders move in an easy, slow shrug at Jane and tor. "We cheer for Jennifer because she is a human, Thor. If she succeeds it is proof of the human capacity of and for greatness." Simon regards Jen a moment too long, then winks at her playfully and purely in a self-mocking manner. He moves back towards the bar. "Anyone need a drink?" As to him. "Just been trying to teach children that science is even more awesome than Wonder Man. It's a tough task, but I've got it." He looks about and barring Jen everyone seems to have at least a partial drink so he starts to mix himself up a gin and tonic; lemon not lime. His chin lifts and falls as he nods at Janet. "Someone has to keep the world looking good, Jan." 

:'''{{#var:108|Jennifer Walters (108)}} has posed:''' "I'll take something, Simon. I'll need something if I'm going to beat down Thor in this." Jen says, though she does wink to the thunder god, though. With that, she'll get her plate of food and sits as well. "The poker and the wings." 

:'''{{#var:137|Clint Barton (137)}} has posed:''' Plate in hand, Clint helps himself with the food. Wondy really didn't spare any effort to create an amazing buffet. Once happy with his selection, he returns to the sitting area, opting for the couch, legs stretched and feet resting on the coffee table. "You're right, guys, been a while we gathered that way." He pauses, then raises his can of beer. Then in a solemn voice - or as close as he can with a mouthful - says. "Let's toast! To the Avengers! And to our guest!" 

:'''{{#var:107|Thor (107)}} has posed:''' "She is not a human! She is a /Hulk/!" Thor complains with a loud huff in his throat. "And we all know that Bruce can easily defeat me in a battle of wing eating. He beat me by forty last year and he even told me that he was still hungry!" He gives a long, pained look to Jane for a moment, then gives her shoulders a squeeze before he takes his beer and lifts it up. "To the Avengers!" He calls out after Clint does in celebration with a loud laugh. "And to Jennifer's impending loss as I look to regain my honor and glory and retain the wing eating belt." He gives a lick of his lips in anticipation, then takes a sip of his beer after leaning over to clink his bottle against Jane's, then Clint's. 

:'''{{#var:192|Janet van Dyne (192)}} has posed:'''     Janet drains her first martini and makes herself another... admittedly a little sloppy so she can raise in time for the toast and hums out, "Well! I'll back Thor in the wing eating contest! Sorry Jen, I'll add it to your discount to show I -really- believe in you!" She takes a sip of her new drink and stage whispers, "You'd better win, Thor! I've got a great track record of betting I don't want to lose!" 

:'''{{#var:8645|Jane Foster (8645)}} has posed:''' "Oof, bets like that put me in an awkward spot. Well, given that I trust the human spirit to prevail as it always does, even in defeat, I'll be supporting Thor." Jane says with all of the gravity due such a situation, even if its with a beer in hand. "Because I know firsthand the impact he can make on my own refrigerator. It is most impressive." She adds in a delicate emulation of the Asgardian. She hoists her beer in a salute to wagers, friends, and family before leaning back in her chair, seeming more comfortable as the evening progresses. 

:'''{{#var:108|Jennifer Walters (108)}} has posed:''' "To the Avengers!" Jen says. "And I can be both. Hulk and human. Not that I'm going to try this wing-eating in my not-Hulked out form." She leans back in her chair. "Bring on the battle." She looks over to Janet, and grins. "I get that discount whether I beat him or not, right?" 

:'''{{#var:93|Natasha Romanoff (93)}} has posed:''' During all the revelry, the sound of the front door opening and closing is likely lost on the gathering in the game room. Or perhaps it would've been unheard anyway considering who entered. Quiet. Not one to draw attention. It's something that is natural to her. And annoying to those she tends to walk up behind to say hello in the morning, having sent more than one gallon of milk crashing to the floor. She's dressed down. Jeans, a red blouse, a light-weight black leather coat with matching boots. In her right hand is a brown bag with an obvious bottle in it. "Sorry I'm late," Natasha murmurs as she comes in the room, pulling the bottle of top shelf vodka out of the bag and adding it to the bar. When one does not cook, one is best off bringing alcohol to such gatherings. 

:'''{{#var:1567|Wonder Man (1567)}} has posed:''' "Avengers." Simon agrees, lifting his gin and tonic even as he hustles over to deposit a giant stein of something potently alcoholic yet slightly fruity and feminine in front of Jen. He adds as an aside, "Hulks are people too." Simon finally sits, all but flopping into a chair. He reaches his left hand up to adjust his glasses as he situates himself. He looks between Jen and Jan quixotically. "Heya Tasha." He calls over to Natasha as she speaks up.     "That is how you sneak in, Clint." he grouses. "No chicken fingers that way."He scoots over on the couch to give her plenty of room if she wants it. 

:'''{{#var:107|Thor (107)}} has posed:''' "Hello, Natasha! I have brought Jane Foster!" Thor says as he gives a motion of his hand to the woman at his side who is swallowed up by one arm wrapped about her shoulders. "You met in the coffee shop briefly. Have you come to cheer me on the annual wing eating contest, or will you be cheering on Jennifer?" He places his pile of wings in front of him, rumbling hungrily at the sight of them as he gathers up some napkins. "And no eating the bones!" He calls over to The She-Hulk. "Your cousin would eat the whole wing and it is cheating." He gives a nod of his head firmly, grinning. 

:'''{{#var:137|Clint Barton (137)}} has posed:''' "Last I heard," comes Clint retort at Windy's comment, "We're having a wings eating contest here, not a sneak in contest. And what about poker?" From the couch where he's sitting, feet on the coffee table and plate on his lap, Clint waves at Nathasha as she comes in. "Hey Tash, glad you made it." 

:'''{{#var:93|Natasha Romanoff (93)}} has posed:''' First Natasha pours herself out a double size vodka neat. Then she moves to the couch, setting it on the coffee table by Clint's feet. Jacket removed, laid over the back of the couch where she will be sitting. Then she plops down, picking up her glss and leaning back comfortably. "I didn't bet. Tired of always picking the losing horse," is her response. She glances over at Jane, considering a moment. She's still there and doesn't seem traumatized. "Guessing he didn't give you any body parts of his enemies? Good." 

:'''{{#var:8645|Jane Foster (8645)}} has posed:''' Jane Foster looks to the newest arrival into the room and offers Natasha a grin that starts polite and then falters, the kind of noise escaping her that's suggest it's a good thing she wasn't actively drinking. Beer does not belong in nostrils. "...oh, there were *other* ideas than flowers?" Slowly, the woman shadowed by the arm of Thor over her raises up her eyes to its owner. "Touching, but I just don't have the space to display those kind of... trophies." The fact that she hasn't run yet is likely a superpower all on its own. 

:'''{{#var:108|Jennifer Walters (108)}} has posed:''' "Hulk usually isn't clever enough to figure out the bones have to come OUT after he eats them. Or that they fill up your stomach more. I am. You're in over your head before." Jennifer gives a wave over to Natasha. "Heya, Nat! How's it going?" She looks back to Jane. "You don't WANT to know some of the other ideas. Be glad he came to me and you got flowers." she winks to the scientist. 

:'''{{#var:1567|Wonder Man (1567)}} has posed:''' "Certain people need to have their wing eating contest first." Simon replies to Clint. "Otherwise a certain all-too-clever lawyer lady will use the wing sauce to mark her cards." he shoots Jen a little look as he says it. His grin cracking open his face it is so wide. Simon nods at Jane. "there were other ideas. Some nameless people might have been playfully and affectionately giving him bad advice." Simon looks over the rims of his glasses at a certain unnamed archer but doesn't name names at all, Clint. Simon lifts his drink and savors the flavors for a moment. "What sort of doctor are you? Surgeon? Family practice?" 

:'''{{#var:93|Natasha Romanoff (93)}} has posed:''' "Well, he was concerned the heads wouldn't fit through the door anyway, so I have to say he chose the right option. Considering the lack of wall space." Said deadpanned and flat in response to Jane and the others. Which makes it hard to tell if Natasha is kidding or being serious. 

:'''{{#var:107|Thor (107)}} has posed:''' "N.. No.. I did not bring her any body parts." Thor coughs lightly under his breath when Natasha brings up their earlier conversation. "I went with flowers. Normal sized flowers." He says with a nod of his head. "We can play poker first before the contest if you wish, Simon! Perhaps some friendly competition will wet our appetite ahead of time. That and you will have to teach me how to play it." 

:'''{{#var:192|Janet van Dyne (192)}} has posed:''' Janet shakes her head and murmurs out softly, "Oh, we should -definitely- do the wing contest first, because... of... totally legitimate reasons." And it's not because she's now furtively looking back and forth between Jane, Natasha, and Thor, trying to figure out whether or not Thor was actually considering the heads of his enemies as good gifts. Because he probably was. It's because she -still- can't tell if she thinks Natasha was joking. And anything that can delay this poker game is going to help her wallet. ...And that's when it hits her she doesn't even know what the stakes of the card game are. Oh no. 

:'''{{#var:1567|Wonder Man (1567)}} has posed:'''     "Eat the damn wings before they get cold!" Simon counters with a warm laugh. "Poker is an excuse to spend time together. It isn't like it used to be. People have second careers and .. girlfriends, and greater responsibilities with other agencies." Simon looks at Jen, Thor, and Tasha in order as he says it. "People have more responsibilities. We are all trying to make the world better in ways that do not involve smashing things, or hammering them, or shooting, or whatever it is that Janet and i do." He shoots Janet a playful grin. "I miss you guys. it is important to remember we're family. So eat your wings." He makes a hand gesture as if to spur the contest along. 

:'''{{#var:8645|Jane Foster (8645)}} has posed:''' "New York City studio, you're not wrong." Jane says with a gesture of her beer towards Natasha. Dark blue eyes shift back towards Thor as the doctor picks up on the falter, and there's a bland look on her face like she's probably going to be checking the contents of her freezer when she gets home. "Oh!" She catches Simon's question. "Oncology, actually. I just started my residency at Bellevue. I just got back to town after school, which is what took me away for a few years and why Thor and I lost touch. Not that I realized who I was working with then." There's another drink of her beer before she gestures towards the table, "Yes, come on, let's see this competition. Thor's been talking it up. I didn't go through a near cavity search to miss this." 

:'''{{#var:107|Thor (107)}} has posed:''' HERE. WE. GO. AVENGERS WING EATING CONTEST 2028! IN THIS CORNER, WE HAVE THE GOD OF THUNDER FROM DOWN UNDER! THOOOOOOOOOOOR ODINSON! AND IN THIS CORNER! WE HAVE THE HULK WITHOUT THE BULK! SHE IS AS STUNNING AS SHE IS STRONG! SHEEEEE-HUUUUUULLLLLK! The two challengers face off at the large table before them with dozens of wings stacked upon one another on multiple plates. Jane gets the pleasure of being the 'counter' for this competition in the form of flipping numbers over when a plate is finished. Each plate has thirty wings. DING DING DING! AND THEY ARE OFF! The God of Thunder and the Jade Avenger are neck and neck for most of the dual as they hungrily power through the wings. Thor uses a suck the meat off the bone technique, while Jennifer tears each wing apart in two quick bites. The minutes tick by, the plates disappear. Water is sucked down. When the clock finally dings 'ten minutes', it is the God of Thunder who once more, narrowly squeaks by with the lead. Four wings! He also looks as if he may be regretting this decision. He pounds his fist on the table happily, his face a mess of sauce much like a toddler would be when they learn how to use a spoon. "OH THANK ODIN! I don't think I can look at another wing." He gives his stomach a clutch. "You were once more a worthy opponent Jennifer!" Burp. Oof. 

:'''{{#var:108|Jennifer Walters (108)}} has posed:''' Jen groans a little. "Right now I'm just glad that Hulks regenerate. Uuggggh." The jade giantess leans back, and looks at her hands. "I need to go wash up. Be right back." 

:'''{{#var:137|Clint Barton (137)}} has posed:''' After watching the contest, Clint looks down at his plate, unfinished. For some reason, he just suddenly lost all appetite. And five bucks. Good sport, Clint walks to congratulate Thor, which is done with a mighty tap on his back. Maybe the archer is trying to find out if Asgardian gods can throw up. "Well done!," he chuckles, "And nice try for Greenie!" 

:'''{{#var:192|Janet van Dyne (192)}} has posed:''' Janet finds herself staring. Oh, not during the contest. Well, maybe during the contest. She isn't sure. It's all some sort of bizarre colour-swirling blur in her memory, like trying to comprehend a higher dimension. She shakes her head and mumbles, "That was... that... I think -I- feel full." She gestures towards Jennifer, "I think you've earned the extra rare ultra special Janet Van Dyne personal hundred percent discount, Jennifer! Well, on at least -one- outfit." 

:'''{{#var:8645|Jane Foster (8645)}} has posed:''' "That's just terrifying." Says the wing-counter in a small voice as Jane watches the competition go down. Or is grotesque a better word? Fascinating? It's like watching an open heart surgery. Everything internally says don't watch, but it's equally wonderous as it is wrong. At some point she's barely covertly whispering to someone nearby, "He's not staying over at my place tonight. No. I need my deposit back." Jane has learned well enough about Asgardians and taking everything to an exponential degree. She is not courting that kind of disaster tonight. As the final count is tallied and towels are thrown in, Jane leans back from the carnage upon the table and lets out a soft whistle. She reaches out for her second beer and holds it up, muttering a quiet and solemn, "For the chickens." before taking a drink. 

:'''{{#var:1567|Wonder Man (1567)}} has posed:''' It is something to watch. Simon does not have to eat anymore. He looks a little green around the gills, not Shulkie level, but still. He slowly shakes his head. "Every time you do it I say I will not watch, yet every time I cannot bare to take my eyes off it." He mutter mostly to himself. "it's.. a wing-op-alypse." He slides to his feet to start discarding the bones, like some sort of ancestral chicken graveyard, into the garbage. He softly, almost mournfully shakes his head. "Tasha? Crack a window?" He actually says it out loud. 

:'''{{#var:93|Natasha Romanoff (93)}} has posed:''' For her part, Natasha claps in approval as the contest comes to an end. She had no horse in the race. She had nothing to lose. "Well done! Thor stands as champion once again. She hops to her feet. "But now I'm hungry. Any wings left?" As Jane raises her glass, Natasha raises hers. "For the chickens." 

:'''{{#var:107|Thor (107)}} has posed:''' Errrp. "For the chickens." Thor mutters under his breath in a pained manner. He even has the meat sweats! When Clint hits him on the back, he 'hurks', then covers his mouth as he rises upwards. A God does not puke in front of his friends. Sober. There are rules! He gives a loud, visible swallow, then clears his throat as he waves his hand to them. He's okay! Really. "I am going to wash up. Verily." He mutters weakly as he stumbles for the hallway to head to the restoom. Make room, Jenny! Let's hope they aren't in neighboring stalls. They may need to contact hazmat. "I'll be back in a moment!" Maybe. 
}}

12349/Shipping It V: Garth likes them Big

2020-10-19T23:34:51Z

Tempest: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2020/10/19 |Location=Atlantic Ocean, approximately 30 miles east of Nantucket Island |Synopsis=Garth continues to try and woo Emma and emma meets p..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2020/10/19
|Location=Atlantic Ocean, approximately 30 miles east of Nantucket Island
|Synopsis=Garth continues to try and woo Emma and emma meets part of garth's extended family- a wise whale by the name of K'yree'a.
|Cast of Characters=9660,113
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' In the weeks since, yet again, someone tried to kill Garth he has kept his distance. Partly to recover from his injuries and partly to make certain that she had a chance to re-evaluate the situation. Garth was pleasantly surprised when she accepted his invitation. This is deep water, and at this time of year it is cooling at this latitude, not as fast as the land, but then the water never quite got as warm as it did on the land this summer; it is not supposed to. Still, this is the sort of water few swim in, about 30 miles offshore from Cape Cod. These are pelagic waters, deep, dark, and mysterious. Land has long since vanished and the blustery wind belies the heavy gray clouds overhead. Garth hovers over the water. It is a good excuse to have his hands on Emma; she cannot fly. He will not say why they went here, though he warned her to wear an insulated wetsuit. Why they came out here becomes available. Emma can almost sense his telepathy being used, but she can sense the immediate recognition and his happiness. "Wait for it." He says in a quiet voice. The water darkens as a long shape comes from below and then a spout of sea water mixed with whale snot sprays upwards onto the pair hovering. Garth's laughter is immediate. "Madame Frost. This is K'yree'a." A humpback whale of massive size. He almost bows to the massive creature. The gesture is somehow courtly. The tail fluke smashes the water in a cacophony of sound and an explosion of water that again sprays the hovering duo. Once the salt spray clears from her eyes, the woman can see the massive, yet somehow elegant creature bears a scar in her left flank, a long, straight furrow likely caused by a harpoon gun. "Would you like to ride her and have a conversation? She has graciously agreed to spend some time with us as she surface feeds on that shoal over there." Garth points over a few hundred yards, playfully shaking out his drenched hair. His smile is bright and warm as he does it. "I will not apologize for the sea water. If you are going to spend time with me, Miss Frost, you are going to get wet." Garth says this guilelessly and slants her a look with his purple eyes. "I think you can piggyback off my abilities with your own, if you are willing to forge a deep enough link between us?" His smile is soft, but the offer is genuine. 

:'''{{#var:113|Emma Frost (113)}} has posed:''' His invitation had been a welcome diversion from dealing with mountains of *paperwork* -- she remembers now why she disliked being the headmistress. The mountain of paper from her business interests is definitely smaller than that generated by dealing with students and being responsible for them. And yet she finds herself? almost enjoying the stress of once more running a school. Emma is nothing if not a glutton for punishment, she supposes. Even her wetsuit is white. Insulated against the cooling Atlantic waters, it covers every inch of her from neck to toes? and the woman still manages to look both regal and attractive. Although she's not peeking into his head to see what his intentions are, there are not *that* many things they can be doing in the ocean out this far -- so sure, she's expecting to get wet. She just wasn't quite expecting the method of dousing. A rather ? well, GIRLY squeal of delight and surprise is the response to the breaching of the massive mammal. Dripping wet with salty ocean water, the telepath laughs out loud. "Oh God, she's beautiful!" And so *big*! Sure, she's seen whales in aquariums and such -- this is something entirely different. "She'll talk with me??" There are some who would flat out not recognize the Ice Queen right now, her features alight with wonder at the majesty of being up close and personal with a whale. She looks, perhaps for the first time since they met, as young as she physically is, the facade of calm, cool, collected, ruthless businesswoman gone in the magic of marine mammals. Biting her lip around the grin, Emma pushes her blonde hair back, the water slicking its heavy weight into a straight curtain to her shoulderblades. "Yes, please?" She looks up at him, her blue eyes dancing with pleasure at the idea as she reaches up to touch his cheek and initiate a telepathic avenue to hear his friend. <<Can she understand how absolutely gorgeous I find her to be? How amazing?>> 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' It takes him some effort, not because she is inexpert but because he is. Being as open as this is hard. He has no real telepathic talent, not the way she might recognize. It's instinctive and casual. His fumbling is to show her where she needs to link to him and how. It's like being led through a dance step by your grandparent. There is knowledge but it is half-forgotten and weak. Once the connection is made though, once she gains so much of his awareness, it is electric. She can sense an ocean teaming with life. Far out there is a massive shark. It is chasing a school of tuna. The school of Tuna fills Garth with vague ill-ease. The shark is fine. The whale though. It is almost human. She is almost human. A big soul. Wise. Powerful, kind, and thoroughly charmed. The whale seems bemused. >You are the Prince's mate? You have no offspring. Is he deficient?< She is utterly amused. Her mental voice is kindly and full of quiet humor and gentle maternal feelings. It is a voice like a fleece blanket. >I cannot say you are lovely. I do not see you well. You are very pale.< Garth starts to chuckle, and then slowly lowers Emma and himself onto the back. It is soft over hard flesh. The insulation keeps her only a little warmer on the outside than the water. She is too insulated for her interior heat to leak out. Garth kneels to trace the scar. Gratitude crackles through the shared mental link. 

:'''{{#var:113|Emma Frost (113)}} has posed:''' She doesn't need his help to establish a connection -- Emma is already familiar enough with his mind and how it feels to slip into his thoughts. It's the extrasensory information that she takes a few moments to wrap her mind around. She's no empath, but thought doesn't have to have words; it is technically formless. As she seeks and finds the threads that she needs to build he link between them, K'yree'a's mental touch is... Incredible. Wordless and gentle and *so big*. The mammal manages to convey her curiosity and her questions and her intentions in concepts that are not human words but are still perfectly understandable. At least... they are to Garth, so they are to Emma for now as well. Her laughter is soft, her touch on Garth's mind more shy this time for being so intertwined, a sense that she's letting him see far more of her than she's allowed perhaps anyone in years. <<We are not mates... just yet,>> she replies on what is almost literally a giggle. Her amusement and her joy are sincere, she's not hiding them behind the facade of super-capable telepath woman. <<You are one of his favorite beings,>> she observes to the whale, watching Garth stroke the whale's skin. <> 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' The creature replies. Her voice is a warm tease. >This is one of those complicated things about humans?< The whale is amused. Her mental voice delighted. >Good things come to those who wait? You would say. The decisive whale gets the fish, we say.< She is scoffing, but it is good natured. >I should not tease about things I do not understand. You are, after all, very small. I am sure that makes things difficult.< She is still amused. She agrees with Emma. >I am one of the prince's favorites. When he was young and I was younger, he interfered with a < -- SHe doesn't have the word. It comes across, but to her thinking it is a metal monster. It leaves a current of nasty water and hunts whales. -- >Whaling ship. He was very gallant.< "Not quite fast enough." Garth laments from the side, caressing the scar. The whale chides. >The males find my scar to be very attractive. My daughter, G'art'haa has made me a grandmother for the the first time. A daughter the apparently named for Gartha. 

:'''{{#var:113|Emma Frost (113)}} has posed:''' Emma's delight is obvious in the way that she laughs and claps her hands. "Garth, you have a grand-godchild!" <<Yes, it's a human complication. We make many things far more complex than they probably should be,>> she admits candidly. She watches the purple-eyed prince thoughtfully. <<Do you have a family pod, K'yree'a?>> She must -- there's, after all, at least one calf. <<It is good that the males find a strong female attractive. It is important.>> 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' >I do. I am alone because I am visiting the little prince. He is courting a princess and desired the opinion of a female he respects. Are you attractive by the standards of your species? You are very small and you are very bright.< She means the colors. She adds, as if Garth cannot hear her. >He was abandoned by his mother, you know? It makes the calves uncertain. He is always sure there is something wrong with him.< "I am right here." Garth counters, cheeks flushing. >Your presence does not impact the truth that I speak, young prince. The world cares not for your feelings of presence. You should grow a thicker skin.< The whale gives a puff of steam and angles. She starts towards the fish at a greater pace and Garth sinks to his backside to ride, the fingers of one hand splayed over the whale's back. >Are you well fed, Emma? DO you have a good layer of blubber to keep you warm at night?< 

:'''{{#var:113|Emma Frost (113)}} has posed:''' Well... that should put him in *his* place. She snickers just a little at him as the whale instructs him on the facts of life here. Emma can't help it. She's amused at his affront, which is only skin deep, and fascinated at the dynamic between him and the whale. <<The males of my species find my form attractive, yes. I have no blubber, but that is not a shortcoming for humans.>> Emma replies with a grin. She is laid flat against K'yree'a's back as the whale swims, feeling the strength in the massive form. <> The reply is slower, her blue eyes averted down to the marine mammal instead of looking at Garth. <<The scars of the heart go much deeper than even the scars of the whaler,>> she murmurs quietly. <<The scar tissue that forms is stronger than the old tissue. But it is not as... flexible. And the more often the same spot is hurt, the more scar tissue you build up to hide the soft organs beneath.>> 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' K'yree'a considers that sentiment for a long moment, as is the wont of her kind. Never known to be hasty thinkers, the great whales are deep thinkers. She mentally scoffs as Emma determines she is attractive. >She may be homely, but this one is wise. You could do worse.< Garth chokes at that. K'yree'a continues despite Garth's discomfort. >A broken heart generally leads to wisdom and empathy. At least our prince got half of that.< There is a sense of anticipation. Then satisfaction as the whale begins to sort the water before her, straining our grill and other tiny fish from the water and draining it into her gullet. Her tail sends another spray of water as a bit of warm, somewhat fishy spray is vented from her blowhole. Garth wrinkles his nose. "She is beautiful, by our standards." >She is far too skinny and tiny. And so pale as to be like the moon. But, if you say so.< The whale seems to like the mind, but is a little uncertain about the woman's size. 

:'''{{#var:113|Emma Frost (113)}} has posed:''' Emma continues to chuckle. She likes this whale very much. She is an exceedingly intelligent being, and the magic of being able to *communicate* with a whale? Well... for a girl from New England? It's definitely one of those bucket list things. She ducks when the blowing of water happens again, wrinkling her nose up. Sitting atop the humpback whale is easier than she ever imagined. <<You will have to take his word for beauty standards. Besides... humans don't mate just for calving, so what's in someone's head is equally important to us.>> With a wink at Garth, she tells the whale, <<And I like what's in this one's heart and mind.>> 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' Skepticism. The whale is not sold on this. She scoffs. >If that is the case why is it so complicated?< The whale has a remarkable ability to put Garth on the spot. He makes a face, and considers. "Heart scars." The whale gives the flipper equivalent to a human shrug with an eye roll. The whale is unimpressed. >Barnacles. Deadweight. Let it go. Humans are bizarre. Self-destructive. You damage yourselves and make things hard for yourself when you could be enjoying your life. I expected more intelligence from my prince.< It is a gentle rebuke. These two are close, the whale obviously caring for you young man. >And feed him more, will you Emma? He is too skinny.< 

:'''{{#var:113|Emma Frost (113)}} has posed:''' Emma wrinkles her nose at Garth and retorts, <<It's complicated because I wish to be chased a little longer!>> That's not exactly what she *meant* to say, if the color in her cheeks is any indication -- it was intended as a quip to let the whale understand that she needs a little more time to figure out how to lower her walls a little. But well.... 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' The feeding whale snorts. It is a spurts a spray of fishy mist into the air. >You are toying with him? For shame. We do not play with our food. Especially when we are skinny, pale and homely.< Garth chokes, and coughs, pounding at his chest as he snorts, gags, coughs and laughs. His features go scarlet and he seems a bit shaken. "I am not food!" >She is eying you like a snack, small fry.< 

:'''{{#var:113|Emma Frost (113)}} has posed:''' Emma laughs hysterically, tumbling right off the whale's back and into the ocean. She has just enough time to suck in a breath before she hits the cold water, and when Garth slices cleanly into the water next to her, her mental laughter is still happening. Wrapping her arms around the Atlantean's neck when he comes up beneath her to help her surface, she breaks through sputtering with laughter. Shaking her hair out of her way, she floats with him there on the waves while K'yree'a dives. <<Not a snack! Just... a man I'd like to keep around,>> she tells both the man and the whale, blue eyes twinkling. <<I'm grateul he doesn't think I'm skinny, pale, and homely.>> "Tag, you're it," Emma laughs, kicking off his thighs to play for a bit with the whale nearby. 
}}

12311/Equipment Checks with the Bats

2020-10-09T02:24:40Z

Tempest: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2020/10/08 |Location=Batcave - Wayne Manor |Synopsis=Cassandra, Barbara, and Dick conduct gear inspections. Dick is plotting. Cassandra seemingly a..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2020/10/08
|Location=Batcave - Wayne Manor
|Synopsis=Cassandra, Barbara, and Dick conduct gear inspections. Dick is plotting. Cassandra seemingly approves. Barbara remains clueless. Cassandra's opinions on Phoebe are sought after.
|Cast of Characters=49,58,1129
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:49|Nightwing (49)}} has posed:''' There are perks to doing this exercise. Not only is it important and prudent, but Barbara and Dick brought treats. It is easy to see which of them made which, though. Barbara's treats have a more refined look. They are more like what one might see on a magazine cover. Dick can actually cook, but he trashes the kitchen to do so. Barbara's poor kitchen must have been demolished. Dick has one recipe he has refused to share with Alfred (though Alfred has it figured out). It is a recipe his mother made for young Dick Grayson, a chocolate Romani cookie.He even keeps this recipe secret from Barbara, who would almost certainly do better with them. They are in a word; delicious. They are also, in Dick's case, misshapen, slightly lumpy, but still delicious morsels. He only busts them out occasionally; it is always a labor of love for the others but they invariably make him a little sad when he makes them; but he quietly loves his new family and only the best for them. Dick and Barbara come downstairs, arms laden. Even though Barbara is perfectly capable of hauling things on her own, Dick has most of the heavy stuff and she has the treats and odds and ends. Even laden with gear, the pair or quiet on the stairs. Like ghosts. It is not until they are in the basement that Dick gives a soft whistle to see where Cassandra is. He starts over towards the tables. "We brought cookies?" It is said tentatively, as if he knows how silly it is to attempt to coax a grown woman with treats. 

:'''{{#var:58|Barbara Gordon (58)}} has posed:''' The fact that he won't share that recipe always makes Barbara both amused and maybe just a little sad. She's never said so to anyone but Alfred, but she hopes that someday Dick will have someone to pass that recipe to. As the redhead carries the two tins with treats in them -- not just for Cassandra but also for Phoebe and Tim if they roll through the cave later -- she's balancing those on top of several utility belts and a folded weighted cape that needs repair, a backpack slung over one shoulder containing canisters that need either refilling or checking, batarangs whose edges need to be checked, and jump lines that need to be safety checked. Gear checks are the thing that saves lives. Moving to set the gear she's carrying on one of the long bench tables specifically for this purpose, she's also glancing around the cave. It's too early for Bruce to be ready to roll, but sometimes he's also down here this early researching or otherwise doing gear checks as well. His absence is neither good nor bad, just an automatic check. "Hey Cass." Barbara calls out the greeting loud enough to carry but there's no shouting about it. She's just assuming Batgirl The Younger is down here already. 

:'''{{#var:1129|Cassandra Cain (1129)}} has posed:''' From the training room comes Batgirl the Younger. Also known as Cassandra to those that get to come in this cave. She's already mostly dressed. Outside her cowl is hanging down instead of hiding her face. She is finishing adjusting one of her gloves as she looks around, spotting the duo and the goodies they carry. Her feet are silent as she walks the metal gangways that lead to the others, though the metal itself makes a little bit of noise as is their nature. There is a clang as she reaches the platform they are on, boots a bit heavy on her landing from the steps. She gives a little wave of her hand as a greeting, because that seems to be how people like to be greeted. It's silly. It's not like they can't see she is /right there/. Yet, that is the nature of people. Grabbing one of Dick's cookies, she shoves it in her mouth and then begins munching using a no hands method so she can pull her utility belt off her shoulder where it was resting and start going through the pouches one by one, making sure everything is there. 

:'''{{#var:49|Nightwing (49)}} has posed:''' "Cassie." Dick greets Batgirl the younger with a warm tone. Her popping the cookie into her mouth brings him great satisfaction. As he lowers things to the table to get his hands free, he casually puts his back to Barbara for a moment to sign at Cassie. <Need advice. More fun if we do it under her nose.> Dick's signing is a little harder to read than normal because he's keeping it confined. Clearly, he is practicing, and he could use the practice. He pulls a couple of bags off a dilapidated white cardboard carton. The writing of a little boy, still clear and crisp plainly leads 'Tony Zucco' on it. The box gets picked back up and slid under the table. That business is for later. "Are we doing your gear while you work on the computer, or are you doing your safety check too?" There is no tease in Dick's tone at the question. He can't do what she does. So he will pick up any slack she needs him to while she does what she must. 

:'''{{#var:58|Barbara Gordon (58)}} has posed:''' "I have a little research that you asked for," Barbara admits. "And I'd like to check in on the Titans briefly as well." The assassination attempt on Garth has made Nightwing a little itchy, so she's been keeping tabs on the Atlantean's recovery. "If you focus on the lines for me, I should be done in time to manage my canisters and check the balance of the 'rangs." She winks at Cassie. "Don't let Bruce catch you with those -- every time he saw me eating them, I got extra detail that night," she laughs. 

:'''{{#var:1129|Cassandra Cain (1129)}} has posed:''' She pauses in her movements, glancing over at the signing by Dick. A tiny dip of the chin then she is back to what she was working on. A few smoke pellets need to be replaced. She heads that way, to the storage area for such supplies. Quickly the pellets are palmed and put into the pouch for later use. The pouch is secured. Next is opened. Definitely needing batarangs. Off to the next bin where she starts pulling them out one by one. Hearing the words from Barbara, she glances over that direction. Half the cookie is still held in her lips while she is chewing. A bit odd but it works. A tilt of her head, brow furrowing, the confusion evident. She pauses in what she is doing to take the cookie out of her mouth, swallowing quickly then asking that one question. "Why?" The concept of it being a problem is foreign to her. 

:'''{{#var:49|Nightwing (49)}} has posed:'''     "They go straight to her thighs." Dick deadpans back to Cassie. His eyes twinkle and he looks over his shoulder at Barbara for just a moment. It is a good thing she is moving towards the batcomputer because the look he gives her is for a moment completely without guile. It is just a moment where Dick shows just how far down the rabbit hole he is over Barbara. His chest rises and falls with a deep breath and he swings his gaze back to Cassie. He hastily signs back <She needs a rind on her finger.> As he signs, he talks. It makes his signs a little sloppy, but it is hard to sign one thing and speak another. "We were younger than you. Our gear has improved a lot. We used to worry more about weights. Drag coefficients were a real concern. We had some concerns that you don't have. Also, I was very small when we started, a boy really. Discipline was essential. Things have changed." As Dick runs his thumb over the edges on Batarangs he sets them into two piles. Those that need sharpening, and others. "I am not going to say you have it easier than us. Not all of the changes are without drawbacks and challenges of their own. I remember teaching Barbara how to really soar on the lines. It was something new for her back then. She didn't have the training you had when you joined. She's had to work hard to get to where she is. She got a later start than either you or I." There is genuine admiration in his voice. Dick being Dick, he has to quash that. "Of course her two mile long legs help on that front." Barbara's kicks are punishing. 

:'''{{#var:58|Barbara Gordon (58)}} has posed:''' Oh, he should be *really* glad she's walking away. That comment would have earned him a smack were Barbara not already out of arms length. She *does* shoot him a Look, though. And then her expression softens, the memory of learning to fly on those lines apparently enough to bring a nostalgic smile forward. "When he was done yelling at me about how I barely missed tearing my arms out of their sockets, he made sure I knew the right ways to do it," she acknowledges. "Although I had to relearn all my trajectories after that growth spurt after high school." Ugh... her entire center of gravity shifted. 

:'''{{#var:1129|Cassandra Cain (1129)}} has posed:''' At the non verbal explanation from Dick, it's really a simple response from Cassandra. She waits until Barbara's back is turned then shoves the cookie back into her mouth so she can sign a single word. <Ask.> Back over to the task at hand as she gets her explanation of why. It makes her tilt her head again, frowning a little and finally she turns and signs quickly. <Compensate for the cookie. Work harder. Why you had extra details.> The concept of such things just doesn't make sense for her. Of course, she is one of the crew who has no other life. She just does this. It is everything. When she isn't out on the rooftops, she's training to be on the rooftops. She doesn't have a life outside the cowl in truth. She is what Batman would be if he didn't have to play his role. No double life, nothing to distract her from her work. It was far less complicated than theirs, which is why things seemed simple to her mind when they really were not. 

:'''{{#var:49|Nightwing (49)}} has posed:''' Her simple sign actually touches Dick's heart. He gives her a firm nod that is full of some repressed emotions. "Have another cookie." Dick says to Cassandra, feeling closer to her in that moment than he has before. He hastily adjusts his hair, an affectation that lets him reset his demeanor. Barbara's tone makes him nostalgic as well. As he finishes with the throwing irons, it is good to see most of them are sharp. The point is to not let the equipment get degraded. AS he moves on to start reloading the various belts, he throws one over each shoulder and another two over his left arm. He starts refilling things from the dispensers. As he moves past Cassandra, his shoulder brushes hers in thanks. "I yell when I am angry, and being scared for other people? It pisses me off." His parents fell to their death. He's a drill sergeant on the lines and demands perfection. Cassandra doesn't need to know he still has nightmares. "She scared me." He shrugs his shoulders. His eyes flick to the computer engrossed Barbara and he hastily signs. <Thank you.> He has to adjust the belts afterward, but it doesn't matter. 

:'''{{#var:58|Barbara Gordon (58)}} has posed:''' A glance toward Cassandra has Barbara nodding. "Yeah, exactly," she replies. "Even with my height, I tend toward... we'll politely call it 'curves.'" She gives Dick a mock-glare. Then her expression softens once more -- she knows full well that he still has nightmares of his parents falling. Even of *her* falling. She's come off those lines a time or two only to find him Johnny-on-the-spot simply because he could see even before she released that she wasn't going to make it. As she moves to settle in at the main computer terminal, she keeps one eyes on the two of them. "Have you met Tim's lady yet, Cass?" She's not been keeping up on Bat-gossip, clearly. 

:'''{{#var:1129|Cassandra Cain (1129)}} has posed:''' Glancing between the two, Cassandra is positive she is missing something. But honestly? That's not unusual. She can read people like a book but that doesn't mean she gets all the nuances. That takes a different sort of understanding. Their body language says one thing while their words may say something else. It's one of the hardest things for her even to this day. The question about Phoebe gets a nod from Cassandra. She finishes up with the 'rangs then puts the belt on, adjusting the weight, shifting a pouch slightly to the left to compensate for the extra 'rangs she slipped in there. "Evaluated. Shadowed." Translation? She's not spoken to the woman but she's worked with her. 

:'''{{#var:49|Nightwing (49)}} has posed:''' They are being watched now. That makes Dick flick Cassandra a little look. His lips quirk into a soft smile, then he adds. "I'd like you to give her a once over on hand to hand. She has a constant healing aura. It limits her effectiveness. It dawned on me that might not be entirely a completely bad thing, especially if she were taught to be a little more vicious than we usually are, as she is actually unlikely to cause real injury with that." "Also. You two are closer in height. Barbara is very tall. I'm a little taller than even Barbara, and heavier by far." He still deposits pellets into the various compartments. He can do it by feel, no doubt just as they can. He nods at Cassandra. "She's a good person, and she has drive. She's? completely different than just about any of the rest of us." Dick's tone is gentle and not at all judgmental. He continues counting pellets in; there is a number so you know how many you have; not just 'until its full'. "What is your opinion on her, Cassandra?" 

:'''{{#var:58|Barbara Gordon (58)}} has posed:''' Barbara is interested in that information as well -- how Phoebe is doing under the people who are working most with her. So she pauses what she's doing for DIck and turns to see Cass's signing more fully so she she can 'listen'. "Lord knows, she seems really good for Tim," she observes mildly. 

:'''{{#var:1129|Cassandra Cain (1129)}} has posed:''' It feels like she had this conversation. That was with Batman. Not this pair. <She has potential.> Which is high praise from the demanding Cassandra. <A lot to learn.> At mention of her being good for Tim, it is going into foreign territory for Cass. <He worries about her too much. Need to be on different patrols.> Her summation in a nutshell. Then she looks at the two of them. <You have learned better. He is still new to his emotions.> Yet again, an analysis. The softer side, the emotional side? She'll leave that to the rest of them. 

:'''{{#var:49|Nightwing (49)}} has posed:''' " "Trust. Age. Experience. Understanding." Dick rattles them off simply. "I can't leave a bad situation unless she does first. She knows that." His shrug is small, as he has belts to juggle. "She can trust me to be right behind her though. That sort of understanding does not happen overnight. There are levels of communication and knowledge of each other, and in a nonsexual manner, intimacy that need to be there. You are absolutely correct in your assessment." Not that Cassandra needs his validation. Compartments appear to be sorted, so Dick moves on to the next task. The cables. He checked his stuff not too distantly, but for obvious reasons Dick is a hyper alert when it comes to cables. As he puts the belts down he gestures to Cassandra for hers. He trusts her, but he needs to personally check them all. He grew up with rigging after all. 

:'''{{#var:58|Barbara Gordon (58)}} has posed:''' Barbara nods slightly, agreeing. "It took a couple of years of working together where we weren't involved romantically to even get past the ingrained 'gotta keep watch on the girl' or 'gotta keep watch cuz she's less trained' or whatever you want to call that." It was never because she was female, not really. Well, okay, it kinda was. But not exactly. "It took us a few months after we were involved to... sort of redevelop some distance," Barbara acknowledges. It was harder to walk away when he was mid-battle after it was so much more personal. Not that it hadn't been personal before, but still. "At least, it did for me. Trusting him to *be* right behind me instead of 'oh let me get this one last hit in' was something I had to learn both times." 

:'''{{#var:1129|Cassandra Cain (1129)}} has posed:''' This is why she tries to get out before everyone else. And in after. She's gotten used to it though. If she's setting up with Dick, she has to let him look at her cables. Otherwise, he was all grumpy and pouty and fretting in the corner. Not literally. His body language wouldn't show to most of them but she can see it in the tightening of a muscle or the shifting of a tendon. She passes over the gapple guns for him to double check all the cables personally without a word. There is the faintest of smirks on her face as she turns to head for the vehicles. "Still babying. Strategic retreat, not who goes first." It's not really a negative the way she says it but a point that maybe they should phrase it a little different to not make it seem compromised. Time to check over her bike. She does it every night when she goes out, even though she had done it the morning before when she came back in. She always has it ready to go yet it gets an inspection before she will head out. Wouldn't do to have a faulty wire leave her stuck and having to ask for transport from the others. 

:'''{{#var:49|Nightwing (49)}} has posed:''' Dick is impressed by Barbara's honesty. "When I was young it was because you were a girl. Then I got older and hormones got involved, and things got complicated." Dick admits it ruefully. "Alfred is the one who explained it to me best. It was okay to be protective, but I had to be honest and right behind you every time, otherwise you would never disengage, and we would both potentially die. It was harder, later in my career as Robin to let that happen. I was angry and confused as my relationship with Batman fell apart." Dick's eyes stray to that stowed box for an instant. "But we all managed to get through that together." Dick considers things. "Growing up is hard to do." His tone makes it sound as if he still considers himself working on that. He wordlessly accepts the cables and is his thorough self. Of course the gear will pass. It is Cassandra. Still, It needs to be checked. It is one thing to get beat. It is another thing to die because a line broke. 
}}

12211/Atlantis Approved

2020-10-03T03:45:36Z

Tempest: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2020/09/21 |Location=Atlantis Poseidonis Embassy, Oyster Bay |Synopsis=A good time is had at the embassy until Garth reveals Atlantis' environmenta..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2020/09/21
|Location=Atlantis Poseidonis Embassy, Oyster Bay
|Synopsis=A good time is had at the embassy until Garth reveals Atlantis' environmental agenda's first phase and promptly gets shot by suicide assassins.
|Cast of Characters=9660,141,10,55,113,103
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' The Embassy has been done up for the event. The vast great room has numerous tables set up, though there is still room cleared away for people to mix and mingle. The room has soft green and gold highlights, a subtle reminder of just whose hospitality the guests are enjoying, and just whom the ambassador, Prince Garth of Shayeris speaks for. The lighting is sufficient if slightly muted and gentle with an extraordinarily subtle blue and green undertone to it due to the light show floating overhead. Hovering over the stage are holograms of the breathtaking sites of Poseidonis, Shayeris, Tritonia, and other locals. Majestic glowing cities of muted light within calm, dark, cold waters that darken to a black that makes the night sky seem bright in comparison. It is the projectors and their sublime views that subtly hue the room with the cool blues and greens of the Atlantean homewaters. Surface worlder catering staff are situated amongst the groups, carrying delicacies and champagne in crystal flutes upon gleaming silver trays.There are Atlanteans amongst the crowd, though, situated in clever tanks surrounded by counters and stools. Comely tritonian men but mostly women. They are clad in the traditional atlantean manner, which is to say not much. Silver threads are strung with pearls, glass beads, and the occasional gem in barely-there skirts that obscure the juncture of scaled tail and human abdomen. The women wear matching tops, though a couple unironically wear vibrantly colored shells and little else. Atlantis is not a modest culture. Their english is exquisite and their knowledge of surface world beverages significantly less so. Still, they are not there to make actual beverages, and more to be ambassadors of their kind in a more common manner. A string quartet plays in one end of the chamber, when they take a break atlantean music full of drums and various horns of silver and shell can be heard. Ethereal sounds of harps and some more unique and unseen Atlantean instruments compete with the primal drum beats. Surface world elegance with Atlantean accents seems to be the theme. The host is clad in a perfectly tailored tuxedo that drapes over his swimmer's form. Garth is black and white, save for his bowtie which is ever-so-subtly hued a midnight purple that emphasizes his violet eyes. The cufflinks catch up the subtle purple as well. That bowtie seemingly has a slight twist to it, so it is ever-so-slightly askew in a manner that might make some fingers itch to correct it as it is so close to perfection.The hostess of the evening, Miss Emma Frost of the titular Frost International is clad in her signature white accented with silver and platinum that is almost incandescent in comparison to the darker clothing of the Atlantean prince. She is at her regal and aristocratic best in this venue. A full-length, body-skimming gown of white satin overlaid with crystal-and-pearl accents set in lace encases her form. It has no straps to interrupt the lines of her shoulders, but for all that appears modest enough? until she moves on three-inch heels and the thigh-height slit exposes one leg from nearly hip to ankle. Soft pink toenails peep out from strappy white heeled sandals, and her blonde hair is caught up in a sleek chignon with decorative pearl and crystal pins. Around her neck is a positively gorgeous platinum necklace, simply and elegantly set with a round mother-of-pearl pendant, and a pair of simple, classy diamond-drop earrings in platinum sparkle amid loose curls that soften the upswept hair rather than it being confined in severe fashion as might be considered 'usual' for her. The two hosts are near the entrance, greeting folks who enter. To call them 'strictly business' is simply not accurate, but to call them more than friendly might be a little bit of a stretch. 

:'''{{#var:141|Rachel Roth (141)}} has posed:''' Rachel's here today out of team solidarity much more than because she has any real business being at a high-end diplomatic affair. And she's already regretting it. She's worn a black dress for the evening with a high slit at the leg, and looks distinctly uncomfortable in it. Her makeup is dark purple, offsetting her pale skin and emphasizing that gothic look, as well as the red crystal in place on her forehead. She's looking around, trying to find the most out-of-the-way place in the room that she can actually be in. 

:'''{{#var:10|Selina Kyle (10)}} has posed:''' Selina Kyle enters in, a bit fashionably late perhaps but here nonetheless. She has never been here before and frankly, she's never really invested in hair ties for sea creatures, but as a philanthropist nonetheless, it was good to make connections. Dressed in a sleek black sequinned minidress and matching black pumps adorned with a simple yet stunning sapphire pendant, it's hard not to notice her as she strides in gracefully, smiling and nodding to the hosts as she enters. She pauses to survey the scene, accepting an alcoholic drink before wandering towards one of the tanks, peering at the beautiful sea creatures thoughtfully. 

:'''{{#var:55|Supergirl (55)}} has posed:''' It probably wasn't the best of moves but Supergirl was present, dressed for the occasion instead of in her costume. She wasn't her secret identity though. No brown wig and glasses. No, this was the woman known as Supergirl with her blonde hair and girl-next-door pretty appearance. She had agreed to come to support the Titans present, as an ally and perhaps soon to be member of the team. But, she had run into a problem. Her mother came to the rescue. Seemed they had planned for her senior prom, which she had not been able to attend. Thus, she had a dress that would fit, with a little modification. She was in a lovely strapless silver gown, with a long flowing skirt. Her hair was pulled up in the back, a few strands loose around her face for effect. Simple diamond earrings, clip on since she couldn't really go get her ears pierced at the local mall. Classic and pretty. SAs yet another server offered her champagne, she had to decline. After all, she wasn't 21 yet. And even if those rules didn't apply on Atlantean soil, Superman would kill her if she was caught. So, she would wait. Instead, she found some sweet fizzy fruity drink. She had no idea what it was but had been assured there was no alcohol in it. 

:'''{{#var:113|Emma Frost (113)}} has posed:''' Emma's cool blue gaze takes in the people arriving, and she greets each with "Welcome. Please, have a drink and enjoy yourselves. Thank you so much for coming." She's as much in her element here as she is in a boardroom or even a classroom, calm and poised as she makes a point of meeting people's gazes. The faint smile that plays about her lips hints at amusement as she also greets several of her own acquaintances who run shipping lines or freight or otherwise do business with Frost Industries. She plays the social game quite well, but as each one leaves, she murmurs something to Garth. His wife is going to take a strip off him -- that's his mistress on his arm tonight." Or "He's a nice guy, but his daughter and son are going to run the business into the ground within five years of his retirement. They're morons." 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' "Hey miss. Are you the one they call Raven?" The voice has a depth to it, and a slight accent. It belongs to a black tailed merman in one of the bar kiosks. His hair is dark, his skin pale and purple streaks of colored scales shimmer on his tail. He has, unfortunately, brown eyes. "I'm Ruric." His tail slashes the water. He does not wear much, just a purple vest, a pair of silvered bracers, and a silver necklace with a single pearl dangling from it. "Price Garth said that we were to look out for you and when you went off to hide, one of us was supposed to entertain you. Fix you a drink?" He pauses. "Well, tell me how to fix you a drink? We are woefully undertrained for this task. Cocktails are so not an Atlantis thing." He lowers his voice. "I swear I don't bite." His shrug is gentle. An older couple walks past Selina Kyle, the woman hiding her laughter in her hand as she walks past. The man is laughing softly, but amused. "Who puts grenadine in a gin and tonic?" He complains good naturedly. He pauses. "Though, honestly? It's not bad." The woman giggles harder, managing to choke out something about the olive that is in the glass. Selina is nearly splashed as a redhead and a brunette, both 'clad' in little rummage around in their liquor cabinets. 'Sorry!" The brunette says. "I should have studied more." "Or at all." The redhead giggles and goes back to rummaging. "Ah ha! Shaker!" She gives it a shake sending the water to rippling about her in little waves and bubbles. "Now we need the lemon peel, and we're in business!" Garth quietly remarks to Emma. "You were right. The bartenders were a huge mistake." He reaches into his pocket and plucks out a silver and mother-of-pearl pocketwatch no doubt scavenged from a shipwreck. He clicks it open and closed. "Almost time for the little speech." He pauses. "The elders back home did not want to soften the language a little like you suggested." He lifts the flute in his other hand and downs the half of the bubbling fluid within with a single gulp. He puts the flute on a nearby fountain which his stately, slightly matronly assistant Janine quickly picks up. Garth attempts to catch Supergirl's gaze, flicking his purple eyes between her and Emma. He then turns and looks about as if searching for others in the crowd. He catches a couple of scowls. The Japanese and Chinese ambassadors. The nice English ambassador is drunk and hanging onto one of the Tritonian bartenders a little too friendly. He can see Ruric chatting up someone he thinks is Raven. He's not sure. That is a gorgeous gown. Emma's little commentary makes him smile. It is a tight smile, his shoulders are set and he shows a little anxiety. He chuckles at that last bit. "Some people say that about me and Atlantis should something happen to my king. They say that about me and the Titans, too." His nervous laughter is a little forced as Garth wonders if there is a place he can be violently ill in an elegant manner. 

:'''{{#var:141|Rachel Roth (141)}} has posed:''' Raven looks over as the merman addresses her, looking surprised. Dammit, Garth. If she wanted to socialize, she would socialize. Not that she's very good at it. "Just some water. Or fruit juice if you have it." Now that she knows there are machinations against her, she isn't going to be off her guard. "Thank you." she says, in her dry tone. 

:'''{{#var:10|Selina Kyle (10)}} has posed:''' Selina Kyle arches a brow at the pair who nearly splash her and continues through the crowds. She notices the dark clad Raven and smiles at her. "Love the dress hun." she quips with a little smile. Moving towards the buffet table, she peers thoughtfully at the pickings although she's not overly hungry right now. Occasionally she scratches at her left forearm, covered in a black leather glovette that covers the scar there. The glovettes are stylish but clearly functional too. Scars are so ugly. Supergirl is noted with a thoughtful smile and nod although she focuses primarily upon Ms. Frost and Garth, slowly making her way towards them. She had of course donated to their charity for tonight, putting in a little extra because she empathized with the plight of sea creatures which seemed to echo those of wild cats. As she approaches them, she greets both hosts with a generous smile and bow of her head. "Good evening, you both look absolutely stunning tonight." she quips. 

:'''{{#var:55|Supergirl (55)}} has posed:''' Seeing Garth looking her way, Supergirl lifts her pink fizzy liquid filled glass his way. The glance is noticed and she glances toward Emma, knowing the face from magazine covers. Powerful woman in charge of a huge business with boatloads of money. That's pretty much the entire depth of her knowledge. She started that way then paused as Selina got there first. So she idle stood off to the side, sipping and watching the goings on. A few people nearby started chatting with her about the loveliness of the embassy. 

:'''{{#var:113|Emma Frost (113)}} has posed:''' <<Take slow, deep breaths, Prince. You have stood -- well, floated perhaps -- in a royal court and held your own. This little pool of barracudas is nothing.>> Who knew he'd get stage fright?? Emma's smile never wavers as she lightly bolsters Garth's flagging courage with a dry tone. <<It's going just fine.>> As well as these things ever go, anyway. <<Although if the British ambassador uses the words 'Tally Ho,' you should have him escorted out. He doesn't hold his alcohol nearly as well as he thinks and I'd hate to see him be ill.>> She does have an eye on Supergirl, unobtrusively, since the young woman seems a bit ill at ease. But for now she seems fine. "As do you," Emma replies to Selina easily with a smile. "We appreciate you coming. I'm Emma. This is Garth, although probably know him." Well, *of* him, at least, if not personally KNOW. "Are you enjoying it so far? I admit, I was a little concerned that everyone would be so fascinated with the ladies that we'd spend the evening all staring at one another." 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' Ruric dips a fluted glass into his tank and settles it in front of Raven, blinking at her twice. "Water?" He says, then merrily laughs. "We have this pineapple orange juice stuff? That lady liked it." Ruric pours Raven a generous glass and situates it on a napkin. A napkin that is soaked by his wet hands already. Garth really did not think through the bartender stations. "Isn't a pine tree the tree you ritualistically decorate once a year to appease Clause, god of deer?" That isn't a joke. The merman seems puzzled. "It has apples too? The Surface is bizarre." The young man subtly flexes as he leans against the bar. Not bad, if you like fish. He rests his elbow on the counter, ignoring the other patrons, a couple of whom give up and meander over to the mermaid table. At least they can enjoy the floorshow there. Janice quietly whispers to Garth as Selina Kyle approaches. "Selina Kyle. Gotham. A philanthropist mostly into cats." A good assistant is so hard to find. Given Garth's hearing, the woman doesn't have to be too loud as she says that. "Miss Kyle." Garth turns to give her a smile. "It is so nice of a gotham socialite to come up here to celebrate with us. Thank you." He smiles over at Supergirl. "And the other amazing woman here is Metropolis' Supergirl. She is here purely out of friendship and camaraderie?." He pauses. "And to make sure I don't flee from the announcement e are going to make." His smile betrays his nerves. He pulls in a breath. "Speaking of which. Excuse me while I break one of my rules. You see, it is better to keep your mouth closed and let people think you are a fool rather than open your mouth and demonstrate it." He brushes past Emma, murmuring, "The necklace absolutely suits you." His smile is still nervous, and pun intended as he heads towards the stage the princeling looks a little green about the gills. 

:'''{{#var:141|Rachel Roth (141)}} has posed:''' "Pineapple orange juice sounds great." Raven accepts the glass, and takes a drink of it. "And...sort of. Human religion is complicated. You might want to start with easier topics." Selina's comment about the dress gets a surprised look, and she looks over after her. "Ummm...thanks?" And then Selina's off to talk to the hosts. Which is pretty much a good example of how most of her social interactions go. 

:'''{{#var:10|Selina Kyle (10)}} has posed:''' Selina Kyle nods to Emma. "A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Frost. And you, your highness." a slight curtesy is given to Garth. "Such a splendid kingdom you have here, it is a shame such wonderful creatures of the sea are in danger. I suppose it reminds me of the threats facing my feline friends. Which is why I am here, happy to give you support." She does keep an eye out for her date, who seems to be a bit...Late.. To Garth she gives a nod and steps back. "Of course. See you later, perhaps." Supergirl is given a smile and nod. "A pleasure meeting you, Supergirl. It is a relief to know the world is safe wuth such honourable heroes like yourself around to protect it." To Raven she chuckles softly abd nods. "But of course. No need to be shy. Black looks good on you. I've always liked the color myself." 

:'''{{#var:55|Supergirl (55)}} has posed:''' "Nothing amazing. I'm just me," Supergirl says with a little blush to her cheeks at the compliment from Garth. She really was not good at taking a compliment. Which is why when Selina added to it, the blush got a little worse. "Nice meeting you. I just do what I can. But thank you." She quickly downs more of her fizzy drink, hoping the warmth in her cheeks will fade quickly. 

:'''{{#var:113|Emma Frost (113)}} has posed:''' Mmmm. The announcement that is going to change the worldwide shipping industry in ways that are likely to make a few of these mingling folks upset. She shoots Garth a reassuring smile as he departs for the stage. <<Thank you,>> she tells him. Then she turns her attention to the two women. "Supergirl, Selina. It's a pleasure to meet you both, truly." She's genuinely glad to see that some of the Titans have shown up to support their teammate and friend -- it speaks well of their bonds. Emma was genuinely trying not to stare at the exotic Raven. Of course, there are a *number* of exotic, lovely women here tonight. But Raven's the one standing nearest her. And she's got a jewel in her forehead. It caught her attention, and it's only now that she places the young woman as another of the Titans. 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' Garth smiles over his shoulder at Selina and makes his way onto the stage. This is a crowd that came expecting an announcement and within a few moments, there is silence as Garth steps under the hologram overhead. "I will begin the evening by thanking you all for attending the first public event we have held at this embassy in far too long. I want to assure you all that the friendship and hospitality of the people of Atlantis will be extended far more often. For too long, we have been silent beneath the waves, withdrawn from contact with our distant kin who live upon the surface of this beautiful blue and green world we all share." Garth smiles warmly. "I am Garth, Ambassador to the surface and its nations. I serve my king who sends his greetings and respect." He gestures off to the side where Emma Frost stands in her white and platinum. "This evening would not have happened without the diligence and dedication of Emma Frost, of Frost Industries. Her lawyers were very strenuous in their negotiations." Garth pauses a beat. "And our attorneys are sharks." He gives another beat before continuing. There is polite, soft laughter in the crowd at the little joke. "We do share this world, and in the words of one of your poets and lyricists, Warren Zevon; All life folds back Into the sea We contemplate eternity Beneath the vast indifference of heaven" Those who know Garth know he is fascinated with 'Surface World music' though he cannot carry a tune in a bucket. Still, he recites the lyrics with a quiet reverence as if he feels he found something in the words." Garth pulls in a breath, and gives a soft, quiet bark of a nervous laugh and lifts his left hand in a half shrug. "I am unqualified to speak on behalf of the heavens. I speak for the people of the oceans. All life did rise from the sea, and most of the world is ocean." It is a subtle inflection, there is no threat, but the quiet insistence of his tone makes it clear that he, and therefore Atlantis, is serious. "When you arrive at your offices on Monday the full outline will be available to you. Atlantis is exercising its rights as recognized by international law, over its territorial waters." He lifts up his right hand to forestall any dread that declaration might engender. "We understand that international trade depends on those waters and we are not cruel. We will allow that trade to continue unmolested and unimpeded so long as various environmental concerns we have are addressed over the next ten years. If your ships cannot meet these reasonable emissions standards, they are welcome to continue to ply the oceans, but they are not welcome in our waters." Given Atlantean holdings in both of the oceans, this is a serious matter. It is a long way around them. "Our children will breath clean water, just as you demand that your children breathe clean air. We call this initiative Atlantis Approved. Specifics are available tonight via my office, but as I said earlier, everyone here will have the full details waiting for them on Monday." Garth's smile is warm as are his words, but the words he speaks are a simple pronouncement. "We look forward to working with you all on this, the first prong of Atlantis Accepted. Together we can, and we will improve the health of our world and ensure continued peace, prosperity, and health of all our peoples." Garth's tone contains no threats, but it is clear that Atlantis has entered the political arena with an agenda and is willing to be disruptive if it must. "I am here to help." His tone bears that simple promise. "We can do this, and our beautiful, shining world will be better for our efforts." Again there is a pause. "This is an environmental regulation, and nothing more." The crowd is, in a word, uncertain. Scowls from some very wealthy people, concern on the face of some diplomats and outright joy on the faces of others. The mood in the room changed as people suddenly realize just what an ambassador and an embassy means; Atlantis is playing politics and a few things just changed. Ruric is silent throughout t 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' ambassador and an embassy means; Atlantis is playing politics and a few things just changed. Ruric is silent throughout the speech and looks over at Raven, eyes wide. "Why did the room just get cold?" He asks it just a hair too loud and the voice carries. With the guileless tone of the clever, but uneducated he asks, "And what did that mean?" 

:'''{{#var:103|Spike (103)}} has posed:'''      Late isn't a fashion statement for some. Rather Spike arrives after everyone is good and settled. Of course, he chooses to let the sun set before he shows up. Apparently not in the mood for a blanket over his smoking self. His trademark black coat billows around his legs a little as he moves through the room, eyes scanning the area for someone in specific. 

:'''{{#var:141|Rachel Roth (141)}} has posed:''' Raven listens to the speech, and she frowns a bit, as she hears the declaration of the "Atlantis Approved" initiative. That's going to cause a stir, a lot of it. Dammit, Garth. You could have given a heads-up before this. "Garth just basically took a stance that's more than a little likely to push things towards open conflict." She winces a little, and puts a hand to her head. The sudden distraction seems to have...given her a headache? She grits her teeth and mutters under her breath "Shut /UP/." 

:'''{{#var:10|Selina Kyle (10)}} has posed:''' Selina Kyle bites her lip as she listens to the speech, which ends on a tense note, but honestly she would expect the same if it meant protecting her precious cats..,Maybe..? She smiles and softly claps a few times, if only to show him that at least some people support this bold decision. She then spies a shock of bleach blonde and black familiar duster in the crowds. She smiles a bit, stepping back and starts towards him. "Spike, you're late." there a familiar twinkle in her eyes, slight amusement at his usual choice of outfit, even at a black tie function such as this. 

:'''{{#var:55|Supergirl (55)}} has posed:''' Supergirl listens to the speech, giving the polite applause at the announcement even as she tries to get a grip on what that really meant for people. She started to consider the ramifications then realized why people were not quite as approving as they might be normally. A lot of businesses were going to be dealing with this come the next business day. And there was going to be a lot of negativity as it would mean money out of their pockets. But really, it only made sense. 

:'''{{#var:113|Emma Frost (113)}} has posed:''' Emma's blue eyes are very watchful as Garth starts speaking. It's a surprise to many of the people here tonight, but not all of them. And the stir that it causes is not unexpected, so far as she's concerned. It's a swell, a wave of stunned people's thoughts that she simply lets flow over and around her, their stream uninterrupted because she finds it unnecesary to block background noise. She murmurs in reply to Raven, "We knew the potential existed." But Emma has made a really good deal for her own shipping fleets and well... business is business, gentlemen. The rise of mental cacophony *is*, however, quite unexpected. Or at least... the more non-human aspects of it, which was a vector she didn't even know to anticipate! Even as Raven insists on someone shutting up, Spike approaches close enough that Emma picks up on *him* as well. A hand rises to her head and she slams her mental shields tight shut, and even then she can feel the pounding of screaming demons. "For the love of God," she hisses out, squeezing her eyes closed and pinching the bridge, as if there's pressure behind her eyes. "A little warning *would* have been nice," she agrees tightly. 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' There are murmurs in the room as shock fades and calculations are being made. Some hasty assumptions are made. Still others start over towards the offices to get a leg up on what is going on. They'll discover it is not that dire. Still. There are ramifications and realizations being made. "Sorry!" Ruric cringes from being told to shut up. "I was just asking." He cute. He's clever, but he has no idea what is going on in Raven's head. At that moment, the doors at the back of the hall are opened by five armed figures, clad in golden and emerald armor. Their heavy rifles are pure white and ribbons of peace decorate them, tied over the barrels in intricate knots the likes of which once secured swords in long gone days. The braided knots are of brilliant gold and green, again the colors of the House of Atlan. These are the King's soldiers. The figures march with great pomp and circumstance forwards, then with a clatter of metallic boots, precisely stop. Their captain places her hand over her armoured breast and salutes the room with a clenched fist and a deep bow. Her soldiers call out in unison. "Atlantis salutes you!" The rifle drill is intricate, with each rifle being tossed between the four guardsmen and women. The figures whirl, dip, and strike the rifle butts against the ground and again click, clack and whirl in a dazzling pattern that would make a US Marine smile. To the clever eyed, each guardsman gets their weapon returned to them. To the keener eyed, the adroit and intricate drill disguises that the peace knots are being removed from the trigger guards. Garth appears shocked by this display, and at once infuriated and curious as he steps out further onto the stage. "This is not a military manner, dear Captain. This is a night of unity and peace." He means that as he says it. "These honors are unearned." The captain, a beautiful Atlantean woman has her voice amplified and made metallic by the rebreather that she and her guards must wear to survive the surface speaks. "Garth of Shayeris. Prince. Ambassador. Beloved servant of the king. Purple eyed magus." The final three words have a slightly unwholesome inflection that is tinged with deep regret. "Hero of the realms. Your immense heart brings all of Atlantis joy." The drill ends, and the rifles rise. They settle on Garth. "We regret you must die." No joy to her tone. She is murdering a hero because of a prophecy. Blazing bolts of electric blue light rip from the weapon barrels as the captain continues to announce aloud. "This is an internal matter! He is not evil, but he will lead to the world's end with his purple eyes! We mean you surface folk no harm! Atlantis honors its treaties!" There is no joy in her voice, only desperation and regret.. It's not the first assassination attempt made on Garth. It is the most brazen though. The shots are all aimed at Garth; this is a public statement. 

:'''{{#var:103|Spike (103)}} has posed:'''      So dressing up isn't his thing. Spike locates the object of his search and he approaches Selina with a smile spreading over his face,"I'm never late or early...." he pauses and shrugs,"...yeah I can't look myself in the eye and finish that statement. I'd have to kick my own ass."      Looking around the room he gauges people around,"It is quite the get together you got here." he finally adds,"Add some bourbon and maybe someone dancing somewhere here and there. Could be entertaining." 

:'''{{#var:141|Rachel Roth (141)}} has posed:''' Shit. Raven's eyes fly open, and she looks over as the woman gets to her announcement. The pale woman in the dark dress flings her hand out towards Garth, as a dome of shadow springs up around the Atlantean. She glares over at the newly arrived Atlanteans. "You do NOT want to do this right now." Her voice is...almost a growl. A snarl. 

:'''{{#var:10|Selina Kyle (10)}} has posed:''' Well this is nice, a royal send-off? Except...It suddenly turns into something more violent. Selina gasps, drawing closer to Spike, clutching his arm as she watches the royal guard about to assassinate the Prince. "But Why?! What's the significance of the purple eyes? This is madness!" she manages to utter. Perhaps she should have kept her mouth shut, or maybe she can stall them a little. 

:'''{{#var:55|Supergirl (55)}} has posed:''' And everything goes to hades in a handbasket. Faster than a speeding bullet is the phrase. It's true. Not necessarily faster than an energy blast though since it would require her to move too fast in such a closed space, potentially harming others not to mention what a sonic boom would do in here. Thankfully, Raven has the Prince covered. Literally. Supergirl is there a moment later, hair falling free of it's perfect styling around her shoulders. With the way the gown is designed, she is like an angel ascending in the flowing material as she comes to a hover right in front of the shadow bubble around Garth, to block any further attempts. "Stand down. Now. Raven is right that you chose a really bad time for this." Her eyes blaze red as she fires off heat beams, meant to try to destroy the weapons in the hands of the attackers. Unfortunately, she has to do them one at a time which might give some a chance to fire again. 

:'''{{#var:113|Emma Frost (113)}} has posed:''' As if demons suddenly blaring in her head weren't enough, now there's a military *something* -- what the-- Even as she starts to reach out for the captain in the lead, Emma's head is positively *pounding* now with the mental surge of panicked people. The pressure in her face gives and a small gush of blood blossoms down her face. She literally rams, with none of the signature finesse that Emma would usually show, telepathically into the Atlantean captain's mind and drops the woman. Only to then have her own eyes roll back in her head. Even passing out, she looks elegant and graceful on her way to the floor. (She'll be pissed about the blood in her gown tomorrow.) 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' Raven is a powerful caster, but the rifles pack a wallop. The dome shields Garth, a couple of the blasts being absorbed by Raven's eldritch shadows, but the rifles are Atlantean and the blasts evaporate the field as they strike. Three blasts evaporate Raven's protective bubble of shadow. The unlight being dispelled by the blazing electric death. Garth gets lifted off his feet and tossed backwards by the blast that strikes him and crashes into a fountain. His tuxedo transformed into a smoking jacket, and not the sort that Hugh Heffner made famous. The fountain, at least, extinguishes the flames in a hiss of acrid smoke. There are screams. There is panic. People are running. The embassy staff try to stop the crush of people. Who can blame them for running? The assassins seem almost relieved, somehow. There is this aura of sadness to them. They raise their weapons to level them at Supergirl, but her heat vision demolishes the weapons. They are insulated, certainly, but not against her might. The extreme heat shatters them into sputtering, hot splinters. The captain rips her facemask off to hurl it defiantly at Supergirl's feet. She sounds so sad as she says with grim resolve. "We tried. This is on you." She works her jaw. Even as she works her jaw the face masks and rebreathers of the guardsmen gush with thick blue strands of some horrific deep sea toxins, venoms, and alchemical poisons. For them, death is nearly instant and not painful. For the captain though, her mouth fills with the choking, thick blue foaming poison and she shudders, falling to her knees. Where the foam strikes the floor there is a sizzle, acrid smoke, and an acidic burn that bubbles and scalds the floor. It had to be a bad death given the gruesome nature. Only Emma knows that she granted the rwoman mercy as she is unconscious as the alchemical poisons eat her once pretty face. These were hideous Atlantean magics used here. 

:'''{{#var:103|Spike (103)}} has posed:'''      Turning back towards the chaos, Spike puts himself between Selina and the gunplay. He shakes his head and looks back at her,"And you thought I'd be an embarassment. At least I didn't start trying to shoot the host." He looks back over the goings on,"Granted....maybe later, but not yet." 

:'''{{#var:10|Selina Kyle (10)}} has posed:''' Selina Kyle cringes, staying behind the protection that Spike offers, knowing he can take a blast or ten and not even flinch. But with all the chaos going on around them, and then the guards dissipating in poison and gas, this place is quickly becoming...Hostile. "Heh, well I certainly wasn't expecting that. let's get out of here..!" She should probably do something noble like check on Emma or Garth...But she's no hero and she'd rather look out for number one first. She tugs on Spike's hand, ready to get away from this chaos. 

:'''{{#var:141|Rachel Roth (141)}} has posed:''' Raven looks over, relaxing as the assassins...well, all suicide. She seems to relax, despite the horrible sight. "You know, you'd figure if they could rig their suits to kill them, they'd rig them to blow up or something. I mean, zealots, take you with them, and all that." 

:'''{{#var:103|Spike (103)}} has posed:'''      "Talked me in to it love." Spike replies and lets Selina tug him away, eyeing the situation until they are clear of the place and then he walks with her,"The night is young, where to?" 

:'''{{#var:55|Supergirl (55)}} has posed:''' "No..." A soft whisper of sound from Supergirl. There is nothing she can do though. No way to stop it. Nothing even her extreme powers can do to keep those toxins from killing the attack squad. "By Rao, why? What are they going on about?" She looks back and sees Garth, moving to see if he is okay and try to help him out of the fountain. "Are you okay?" 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' "No." He'll be fine. Garth has been scorched, but he is a scion of Atlan and made of sterner stuff. "Stay away from the corpses. That is evil magic." Garth doesn't seem to be in a hurry to get up though. His eyes are half-lidded against the pain, his jaw clenched. Embassy staff are already hustling emma off and away. they move to help Supergirl. Janice comes running over in her heels. The older woman's hair in disarray. 'Can you help with the crowds? We'll take Garth?!?" 
}}

12282/Shipping It (IV) The Iceberg

2020-10-02T20:08:54Z

Tempest: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2020/10/02 |Location=Atlantis Poseidonis Embassy, Oyster Bay |Synopsis=The iceberg does not melt, but it does thaw a little and Emma finally gets h..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2020/10/02
|Location=Atlantis Poseidonis Embassy, Oyster Bay
|Synopsis=The iceberg does not melt, but it does thaw a little and Emma finally gets her feet beneath her once she and Garth have an actual discussion about things.
|Cast of Characters=9660,113
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' The embassy is being readied for tonight. 'Islands' of alcohol serving stations have been installed. It would be gauche, were it not for the fact that little stations are for Tritonian bartenders to mix drinks for the guests. The stations themselves are subtle and elegant as temporary structures can be and the tanks are being filled for the bartenders. Most of the guests, after all, have never met an actual mermaid. Janice is wearing a slight frown as she deals with a pair of gorgeous women wrapped up in blankets in wheelchairs. "The amenities are sufficient ladies?" She calmly but precisely asks the girls. A subtle motion reveals that they are both tritonians- their tails can be spied at the bottom of the blankets. One gives a nod. "When you can, lady Janice, kindly instruct us on surface world mores and morals?" She asks. The other chimes in. "Yes, we wouldn't want to inadvertently cause a scene. We are not going to be expected to dress like her, are we?" The mermaid indicates Emma, apparently finding Miss Frosts' attire to be incredibly boring. Janice pinches the bridge of her nose in clear frustration; these women might not have been selected for their agreeable nature. Though clearly intelligent, there is this petulance about them. "No. You will be clad in Atlantean clothing, still, please do try to keep yourself somewhat covered." Janice pulls in a breath, clearly frustrated. "I understood Queen Mera selected you personally for this activity." Which is the issue, clearly the young women seemed to think that they were to be hostesses for the prince and not servants for the evening. 

:'''{{#var:113|Emma Frost (113)}} has posed:''' Emma is amused by the frustration and annoyance Janice is giving off, but she offers the woman a sympathetic smile. Her curiosity about the Tritonians, she keeps to herself for this moment -- her slacks and silk top are perfectly classic. 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' "Please go on in, Miss Frost. Prince Garth is in meditation, but we have been told to let you in regardless." The older woman obviously possesses a mixed opinion on that. The cursory mind scan from Emma indicates the irritation has nothing to do with Emma; Janine actually holds Emma in some esteem. These girls are the root of the irritation, as well as the preparations for the event. Even Garth is vexing her a little, and she has an almost motherly affection for the young man. Garth seems to favor hiring women who will look out for him. That almost certainly is some sort of warning signal about mommy issues. Still, Janice does not disapprove; it is more a bit of concern that a go-getter like Emma will simply create drama that the young man is ill-equipped to handle. Janine is smartly dressed, a brunette who compensates for her lack of height with a heeled boot that indicates a sense of style and taste similar to Emma's own. The woman is wider at hip and slightly worn from the years and a few children of her own and bears a shocking silver streak in her hair that she bears with some pride; she earned that gray hair. It ages her a little, but the woman is in good shape for a woman expecting her first grandchildren soon. Personable, smart, and loyal it is obvious why Garth has the woman running his personal office on the surface side. As she opens the door for Emma, Janine's nose wrinkles as she hears the simplistic stylings of Howard Jones. Her eyes roll despite herself. Her thoughts are more or less along the lines of 'Oh God, he is in one of his moods again'. She swings her dark eyes to Emma. "He... has eclectic tastes in music." It isn't quite an apology, but it is a close neighbor. The room has the sunshades drawn and the lights dimmed other than the soft blue lights.     You can look at the menu, but you just can't eat.     You can feel the cushion, but you can't have a seat.     You can dip your foot in the pool, but you can't have a swim.     You can feel the punishment, but you can't commit the sin.     And you want her, and she wants you     We want everyone     And you want her and she wants you.     No one, no one, no one ever is to blame.     You can build a mansion, but you just can't live in it.     You're the fastest runner but you're not allowed to win.     Some break the rules, and let you cut the cost.     The insecurity is the thing that won't get lost. Garth of Shayeris is obsessed with music from a time long before he was born. For some reason the 1980s really resonates with the young Atlantean Prince; perhaps because so much of it is hopeful and looking to a better future? This is not that sort of song; this is a song about loneliness and the clawing futile efforts of the lonely. He is floating in midair, and his hands are extended to his sides, slowly gesturing with his eyes shut as he plays with the water from his pool. The water floats eerily before him. It circles and cycles, flowing in a vaguely cylindrical shape and moves with its own subtle interior flow. Garth's eyes are closed and he is simply reaching out with his perceptions. He simply feels the water and lets the water wash away at whatever it is that prompted him to meditate. It is so easy to forget that he is some sort of mystic. He likes to talk about living in two worlds, but really it is three. "What might I do for you Miss Leery?" Then a subtle waft of Emma's perfume reaches his nose. "Oh. Miss Frost?" Her presence is a surprise and sends a ripple through the water. The formerly calm water demonstrates a stronger current for a moment as his concentration is broken. It falls from its position to splash onto the tile floor, which suddenly seems like a practical necessity. 

:'''{{#var:113|Emma Frost (113)}} has posed:''' As Garth's assistant lets her into the office, the sound of music comes to her ears and Emma pauses. If she wonders about his mood, she doesn't say so? but as she steps into the office and finds him floating with water making soothing patterns in the air, she crosses her arms thoughtfully. Janice's departure is accompanied by the closing of the door behind Emma. The white-dressed blonde's appearance is, as always, impeccable. Her slacks and blazer are properly creased, the sleek silk shell is pristine, and her white heels bring her to the statuesque 6'1 mark. Her blonde hair is caught back in a twist, and delicate, sinuous platinum and diamond earrings catch the light when she turns her head. Her Arctic blue eyes study his demeanor as the water falls to the floor, and she has to fight her instincts to simply brush over his mind and determine what has caused the upset. "Something is disturbing you," she observes. "Are you well? Do you wish me to come back at another time?" The offer is made gently -- not because she is disinterested in his thoughts but because she's attempting in her cool way to acknowledge that he might not be in the headspace to discuss work things and she is not good at the personal things that may be on his mind. Not that she has any right to ask about such things.     Why *is* she even asking? She doesn't usually bother herself with other people's woes. Unless, of course, she gets to crush the person causing them. He might need that! Oooh, that could be fu-- No. She's being better than that these days. He probably wouldn't ask anyway? 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' He frowns at the water on the floor. "Sorry." He says, lifting his left hand to begin to gather the water. "I did not get any on you, did I? All that white, I might have ruined your surface-worlder modesty. My apologies." He sounds sincere if a little dismissive of her modesty as if it is not a shared cultural norm. As he holds his hand, water begins to form into droplets and slowly rise and lift upwards into a single vaguely spherical orb like a reverse rain. "If you need the moisture wicked away, step forward and I will dry you. Have no fear, It is not a tactile process. I can not sense what the water touches, not in a real sense." Garth is quiet for a moment as if measuring his words. HIs thoughts are compartmentalized. He is mulling something over, obviously, and now he is considering whether to seek her consul. Ultimately, with a little shrug, Garth does just that. "I am struggling with a diplomatic decision. You are likely familiar with the mutant known as Magneto. He is the de facto, if not internationally recognized ruler of the so-called mutant homeland of Genosha." He explains this in an even-handed way. "Is he a terrorist or a freedom fighter? A visionary or a demagogue?" Garth's right hand flips over between each word as if mulling them over or considering them to be different sides or viewpoints of the same thing. "I am planning that announcement party. Should he be invited if he is in New York? What of Victor Von Doom? He is a more legitimate ruler. WHat am I? Diplomat or hero? Man or Prince?" His lips quirk in a slight smile and he again gives a fruitless, confused shrug. "No one is just one thing, and so much is a matter of perspective." Garth settles his purple eyes on her as he moves the orb of water over towards his pool. The floor is absolutely dry in Garth's wake. 

:'''{{#var:113|Emma Frost (113)}} has posed:''' Emma has to agree that no one is just one thing. Especially Erik Lensherr. "I'm uncertain at this moment that inviting Erik is a good plan, given the stand-off with police. I have no idea whether von Doom's even welcome within the country's borders. That would be something to have your people check at the State Department," comes Emma's cautious reply. Her familiarity with Magneto as a person, however, is obvious in her use of his name as opposed to the codename. Magneto's identity isn't exactly secret. The fact that she is worried shows only in the very faint line that has appeared between her brows, the rest of her expression is as smooth and neutral as it usually is when they talk business. It's only when he flirts that she flusters, generally. 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' "I think we are of the same mind." Garth says with a cultured, even princely nod. "Please?" He gestures to a seat. Still, he shows indecision in his shoulders. "If they show up, I am not going to ask them to leave, and only ask them to treat my nation's embassy as they would have their own be treated." If such rogue states were allowed such amenities. "I admit, part of me still wants to invite them. No one can change unless they are given a chance to do so." He admits this with another shrug. "I would hate it if I were always nothing more than Aqualad. People, like plants, need things to grow. Perhaps it is too late for those tigers to change their spots." He mixes the metaphor. 

:'''{{#var:113|Emma Frost (113)}} has posed:''' "Mmm," Emma offers quietly. She's one of those tigers, after all. And she doesn't necessarily think Erik is *wrong*. She's just unwilling to be at outright war with ? well, *everyone*. Besides, she has other things on her plate at this moment. As she moves amid the water, she can't help but smile slightly at him. "Your control of the water is quite deft," Emma compliments. "Next time, perhaps, I won't worry about getting splashed." Not that she was worried about that to start with -- a woman who wears nothing but a white bustier and cape with thigh-high boots has little to really worry about in the modesty domain. 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' "Oh! You liked the earrings?" Garth's eyes dip to her throat, but no chain or medallion. "I was worried they were a bit much." He admits it. "The chain is from before the fall. Some of my ancestors were not as kingly as they should have been and went into the water with more wealth and comforts than was maybe wise." Garth adds, "And the secret is to understand control is illusory. The water complies because it complies. When it speaks to me, I listen." It is deflection. His tone shifts. "Then perhaps next time I will splash you." That's him flirting. 

:'''{{#var:113|Emma Frost (113)}} has posed:''' A hand comes up briefly to touch the earrings and Emma can't help the small smile that looks a little abashed. "I love them. And it *was* too much, most certainly. But?" But she loved them. And she blanches just a little at the information about the chain they came with. "You gave me--" something from BEFORE THE FALL?? *Now* she's flustered. That's? well, it's rather huge. She can't even respond to the flirtation because she's practically choking on her tongue at the implications of a gift thousands of years old. "That is? irreplaceable, Garth. I would--" 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' "So are you." Garth replies with his customary calm. His smile is abashed and again he gives her a little nod of his head. "You are a serious woman of means and ambition of your own. You are a Princess of industry. You, no doubt, have many men who seek your attention." Garth was doing pretty well there, so he thought, but as those words end, he feels as if he is floundering. His confidence is a little fragile when it comes to these things. "I.. have many deficiencies. I am certain the fish jokes have started. There is a price.. a cost? For every choice and decision. I needed to show you that I took you as seriously as you deserve, Miss Frost. Be-besides? Far better for the sunlight to sparkle on it than for it to sit in a massive vault full of the pilfered goods of Old Atlantis and the spoils of wrecked vessels. Unused, unknown, and in the dark." 

:'''{{#var:113|Emma Frost (113)}} has posed:''' Emma's flush is definitely one of shock rather than embarrassment or shame. She moves slowly to seat herself in one of the nearby chairs. "I? should not keep such a priceless artifact of your people." But he can see her reverence for what he sent in the way that she puts fingertips to her throat as if to touch the necklace that she opted not to wear (because she didn't wish to be *obvious*). "I, uhm?. Thank you seems entirely too minuscule for such a gift. But? thank you." 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' "Then send it back if my advances are ever unwelcome." Garth says even handedly. "The earrings and the medallion are yours for so long as you will it. But if ever you decide that you no longer want me to pursue you, merely send the necklace and the jewel back." Garth shrugs his shoulders, settling his backside on the desk as he leans against it. His left hand absently pushes through his hair as he nervously licks his lips. Staring down a supervillain? No problem. This girl makes his skin itch. He slides a hand to his collar ro actually pull at it a little. "I am glad that you like it. I should think it looks beautiful on you." 

:'''{{#var:113|Emma Frost (113)}} has posed:''' If she weren't already planning on wearing it to this gala that he's asked her to help host, she would be now. "It will," she acknowledges softly. "You'll see for yourself." And after *that*, it might go in a bank vault with a crap-ton of insurance on it. Not that anything could cover the loss of it either in cultural or sentimental value. Clearing her throat, Emma murmurs, "You've made me forget what I came for." Her laugh is a touch breathless. She's still sort of reeling from the revelation of what she has in her possession. 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' "You should see the tiara it matches." Garth deadpans. "Fit for a queen." He tilts his head as he regards her. He isn't clever enough to say that and move on as he is on purpose. He's no Lothario. Rather, he is nervous, so he says that, loses his nerve, and simply moves on. "You came to discuss the gala? I understand the lawyers have almost hammered everything out and there have been no fatalities." His smile is small. "Merely hurt feelings." 

:'''{{#var:113|Emma Frost (113)}} has posed:''' Emma looks almost relieved that they don't have to converse about a tiara! "Yes, well, they're lawyers -- they make their money hurting everyone's feelings," she deadpans. "And yes, the gala? and we've received word from the State Department that a field trip would be fine. I just will need to make a few adjustments? if they're even possible." She clears her throat a bit. "I've had to step up into ? running the school. The headmistress had to step away for a time." 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' "You will not be attending the tour?" Garth has his brave face on but the disappointment is palpable. Were she reading his mind, oh the images that shatter in that instant. He apparently had romantic intentions for her on the trip. 

:'''{{#var:113|Emma Frost (113)}} has posed:''' "No, no," she hastens to assure. "I can go. I just--" Oh dear. Emma blinks and calls on every ounce of the dignity that has served her well over the years. "Garth, if I were going to back out I would tell you up front." She absently touches an earring, an unconscious assurance that it's important. Not the *thing* but the whole situation. "No, I can still go. Is there a way to make sure that I can still be reached if necessary, however? If not, I will just need to make additional arrangements." 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' The prince is momentarily frustrated, "We are not a society of --" Garth bites his tongue. "Yes. We have satellite communication and technological as well as magical methods of communication." Garth shakes his head. "We have lights and music. Art and traditions. We have all the amenities. Although I will have to teach you how to use the toilets." 

:'''{{#var:113|Emma Frost (113)}} has posed:''' She looks a little bit amused. "You are a bit of a secretive people, Garth -- I didn't mean to imply that you were in any way backward or not advanced." Emma definitely had no intention of offense. They are a hell of a lot more advanced than the surface. "I just didn't want to assume that I could do something as simple as leave a phone number if being able to get into touch was a bit more complicated than that." 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' "Emma Frost." Garth says simply, though he has a slight eye roll going on as he says it. "If you are needed back at your school, I can and will use every bit of my eldritch might that I have available to teleport you back there post haste if that is what you need. I give you my solemn word as a prince of the blood royal and as a man who rather fancies you." He pauses. "I'm not good at this romance thing. I? do not like to let people down. I think a couple of my teammates from the Titans might be coming. Should there be an emergency you will find our resources at your disposal. You have my word." He pushes a hand through his hair. He's agitated, but not because she upset him. "I want to be someone you can count on." There. Garth said it. He looks uncertain. That cannot be unsaid, and to Garth it feels like he's said too much. 

:'''{{#var:113|Emma Frost (113)}} has posed:''' She is still not entirely convinced that he knows what he's getting into, romancing her the way he is. Emma crosses her legs and leans back in her chair, getting comfortable there. "I have every faith in the idea that you will do exactly that, Garth," she assures softly. "I ? have a feeling I'm going to be apologizing to you quite often." There is a low sigh that accompanies the observation. "I am? very good at business. But despite my innate talents," her telepathy, "I am *not* so good with people. I almost never say the right thing, and frankly when I do open my mouth, it's usually something rather cutting." She's working on that! It's just not in her nature to be open and all touchy-feely. But this is important enough to her that she wants to make sure he knows he's doing nothing wrong. 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' "They call you the Frost Queen in the business world. I did not expect you to be a cuddly person." Garth admits this, one hand settling on the desk. The other gestures as he speaks. His violet gaze finds places other than Emma to gaze at. 

:'''{{#var:113|Emma Frost (113)}} has posed:''' "They are not wrong." Emma grimaces slightly. She can be rather arrogant. 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' "There are, uhh, other ways for us to communicate." Garth says finally, gesturing at her with a shrug. "It might leave our mouths available for other things." His cheeks go twelve shades of vermilion. He has not really asked her for a kiss. They've all either happened in the heat of a moment, or he's made the move and lived with the potential fall out. "Although, I can appreciate if that is too intimate for you. I do not understand how it feels on your side." 

:'''{{#var:113|Emma Frost (113)}} has posed:''' There is a long moment where Emma pauses and considers what he's said. And then she seems to make a decision, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her legs after uncrossing them. <<The touch across his mind is gentle, a request rather than the firm insistence she might otherwise employ. As he allows her entry past his surface thoughts, she allows him a sense of *her* -- her power, has a weighty feel to it, like there is a great deal of it and she has it well in hand. She draws him into a link between them. A brief flash of *something* that feels hard and cool passes through him when she allows him past innate defenses but not past the deeper shields. Her diamond carapace comes from the core of her, after all. She lets him feel enough of her to know, perhaps even inadvertently, that although she has strength and the titanium will to wield it? there's also a deep well of emotion that is safely contained behind that shield. She is not evil? but she *is* driven. Cautious. Wary. Viciously protective of those she allows close. And prone to keeping others well outside that shield that protects the gentler aspects of her personality that exist behind that shield that she still hasn't dropped. Maybe can't drop.>> If he was uncertain that telepathy would be intimate, he has his answer in the fact that her instinctive move is not to cast him out of her mind but to soothe any of his own emotional jagged edges while he's within hers. 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' Garth is kind. It is that simple. He is a gentle soul who is a warrior because he values others and knows he has the strength to persevere. He is absolutely, abjectly alone, uncertain, and isolated. Everyone feels like no one understands them sometimes. Garth always feels that way. He has deep seated abandonment issues, no doubt because he was abandoned. Internally, he is a mess. A mass of insecurities. He's like a duck, looking placid above the water but underneath he is kicking furiously to keep moving. He is just doing the best he can from day to day and trying, perhaps fruitlessly, to use this immense power he has to make the world a better place. There is, hopefully, some grace in that. What he sees in Emma is someone who can understand his burdens and responsibilities and not let him flounder in indecision. That is his biggest fear; that he will let his issues stop him from doing the right thing. He forces himself to look at her. "There is nothing ugly inside you." He says it simply. "I admire your strength. I.. am not strong. I'm... a mess." 

:'''{{#var:113|Emma Frost (113)}} has posed:''' Emma shakes her head slightly. "You just didn't see the messy parts," she tells him quietly and rubs her hands up and down her thighs. Her palms are sweaty. It was as much as she could offer? and truth be told, she only offered the best of herself whereas he trusted her with the worst. Sure, she could have seen it all without his permission, but he literally offered it up instead of offering the good that she's seen. So she lets him see what she is seeing of him -- his willingness to try, to fight, to always do the best he can by the people who rely on him. Hell, he's allowing her to see all of him *knowing* that she is afraid to let him close -- it's something she admires in a great many ways. She's a closed-off person. Or at least, she's always thought of herself as an island in a frozen sea of turbulence. Maybe an iceberg would be more apt. The thought kind of amuses her for just a second. 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' This is normally when a grand gesture would be in order. This time, though, Garth doesn't. He sinks into a chair and regards Emma with his violet eyes. He regards her for a moment in what to him is a comfortable silence. "I'm not scared, and think yourself cool and unapproachable if you want?. You do not come here just for business, and you cannot say otherwise without it being a lie." She is really a pain in the backside, and Garth wonders if that is something wrong with him. Is he only attracted to the unobtainable ones? Perhaps the isolation and alienation of his life is armor to protect him from others? He rejects the premise without little thought; no. He's lonely and he hates it. Garth needs to see if there is a future here. His chest rises and falls in a deep, long sigh. "One day, you will stop trying to save me from you." He says finally. "I do not need saving anymore than you do, Emma Frost." 

:'''{{#var:113|Emma Frost (113)}} has posed:''' Will she drive him away? She usually does with anyone who dares breach those walls. Emma smiles just a little at him, wondering for the first time if her past and the secrets she holds are really a problem or if they're just excuses. She finally tells him quietly, "I want to believe that if you saw all that I've done, it wouldn't change your mind." It's a difficult admission -- it's bad enough, to her mind, that the opinions of those at the mansion have the power to prick her feelings. His ? has the power to actually hurt her feelings, and it's been a long time since that happened. And the hypocrisy of telling Jean that locking up parts of herself in a cage would destroy her doesn't escape the blonde. Clearing her throat, she offers, "You did know my reputation." She's 'difficult.' Frigid. Emotionless. But she's not. She's just very guarded. And she chooses to answer in more intimate fashion, allowing him a glimpse past her guards she's afraid of being hurt too. <> 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' That is a little ominous. Garth was ruminating on other things, and to start down that particular train of thought. As he considers, Garth slouches in his chair and steeples his fingers in front of him. He considers her, angling his head to his lift, tilting his chin. "I am not interested in the person you were." He says finally. "I am interested, attracted to, fascinated with the person you are and might be some day. I know you have a past. I am positive that you and I never will agree on everything. I don't think I want that anyways. So, I don't care what you did or who you were so stop fretting over them. You have a past. So do I. I am interested in the present and the future. How about we start there, and if you can accept that, and if we progress, one day in the future we'll have the talk about pasts?" Garth places his hands on the arms of his chair and gently pushes himself straight in his chair again. His purple eyes regard her seriously. "I'm a prince. I'm a servant to a king. I am a leader, even if it is not what I would have chosen for myself. I have had to compromise from time to time." 

:'''{{#var:113|Emma Frost (113)}} has posed:''' He's not afraid of her, and it genuinely fascinated her. She's shown him that she could be messing with his head, she's admitted to doing such in the past. She's teased the White Queen's demeanor where he can see just a couple of times. And he's *still* not afraid. A smile quirks the corners of Emma's mouth upward and she finally concedes, "The present and future." That's what they'll focus on. Her fingers lift to touch the earrings in her ears and the smile widens, still soft. "I do enjoy the chance to visit you in person," she teases. Because he's right -- the conversation *could* have happened by phone, after all. She doesn't come just for business. 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' "And yet you perform none of the actions that are made possible by face to face communication." Garth replies to her, giving her a gentle, even mild shot across the bow on her reticence. "I have no idea why you are so skittish." The word is chosen to mildly irritate the woman. "However glad I am to see you." Garth says more sweetly, almost as if to provide a verbal balm to his words. "I presume that I should dress in Surface-worlder fashion." He wrinkles his nose with some distaste. "For this event, I shall." 

:'''{{#var:113|Emma Frost (113)}} has posed:''' She moves to stand now, comfortable once more with him. A brow tips upward and though there's a flash at the challenge, she still looks amused. "You will be dashing in a tuxedo, I'm certain," she assures him. It looks like she's preparing to leave but her step brings her to stand in front of his chair. Emma leans down with her hands resting on the arms of his chair, close enough to tantalize him with an almost-touch as her position keeps him from standing up. Her voice is low, almost mesmerising. Face-to-face activities have been the method she's used to manipulate everyone when she wants something. There's a reason the White Queen is sexualised the way she is. She brushes a butterfly-light kiss on his lips, lingering provocatively. "I'm *skittish*," she whispers, "because it matters." 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' That is the first time she's made the slightest move towards him. Inwardly, well, there will be no living with him after this. "I am happy I matter." Garth says, keeping most of his self-satisfaction and contentment from his voice, but only most of it. "Icebergs do melt, it seems." He says quietly. Garth regards her seriously. "If I matter, then do not allow a good thing to get away. We live in a dangerous world. Okay?" 

:'''{{#var:113|Emma Frost (113)}} has posed:''' That he doesn't swallow hard when she lets that glimpse of the other side of her out actually surprises her. Most men do. Emma doesn't let it show -- much -- and she withdraws to stand upright. "We do," she agrees mildly. "You have me looking forward to dressing to impress for the evening." Her smile reaches fully into those glacier blue eyes, warming them to an aqua color. "I'll see you soon, Garth." 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' That is what burrows under his armor and when she scores a hit on his insecurity. She can actually see a bead of sweat on a brow and watch his throat work a nervous swallow. "I look forward to that, Miss Frost. I await our next encounter with great anticipation. Is there any color I should wear to match or to avoid to clash?" HIs tone is controlled. "Remember, I do not perceive color quite as well as you do." He doesn't need to tell her that his other senses are far in excess of host humans. That he can taste her lipstick, even if it doesn't smear, or that he can smell her, or any number of other things. That is unimportant. Right now his purple eyes are matching her blue ones and Garth is just trying to be flirty and sophisticated even though he feels like he just started swimming in far deeper water. 

:'''{{#var:113|Emma Frost (113)}} has posed:''' Her retort is a wicked smile with a look from the corner of her eye beneath her lashes as she steps back toward the door. "Nothing clashes with white, your highness." He *did* goad her just a bit -- now she's engaged in the game. Her movements are regal despite the almost-purr to her voice as she leaves. 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' Normally, he is a gentleman when she goes. She must have scored a good hit on him, as Emma can feel his eyes linger on her as she goes. Not quite predatory. Still, lingering and not at all innocent or wholesome. Garth again swallows and pushes a hand through his hair before muttering in Atlantean to himself. "Careful what you wish for." After she leaves, Janice walks in. She looks at the young prince, and sighs. "We'll clean you up properly, Garth." She shakes her head ruefully. "She might break your heart." "Yeah." Garth replies. "It's good to risk a little now and then. You don't see Icebergs at this latitude very often." 
}}

12173/Like a Titan Rising (I)

2020-09-14T03:20:08Z

Tempest: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2020/09/14 |Location=Daily Planet, Central Business Dist. |Synopsis=Garth goes out to recruit Supergirl for the Titans. She in turn introduces him..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2020/09/14
|Location=Daily Planet, Central Business Dist.
|Synopsis=Garth goes out to recruit Supergirl for the Titans. She in turn introduces him to Phobos over a dozen cherub monsters.
|Cast of Characters=9660,55,9664
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' The blond blue and red clad woman can be difficult to keep up with. For a little bit, Garth simply flew about searching for her. That rapidly became a task he loathed. Also, it stank of desperation like a fish on its third day at the market. Garth is tired of being perceived that way. Instead, he is opting to hopefully be perceived as confident and capable. Maybe even resourceful. It is a little cliche, sure. He's half worried that it will get the wrong one as well, but then Garth is not wearing a skirt and doesn't write for the paper. Garth of Shayeris, the erstwhile head Titan, the rightful king of the hidden valley (the one in the ocean, not the one where they make the ranch dressing), Ambassador to the surface world, purple-eyed magus, and potential doom to all that is Atlantean is perched atop the Daily Planet's hood ornament globe, idly kicking his feet, and perusing his phone as he speaks at a slightly raised volume. "Heeeeeeeere Supergirl, Supergirl, Supergirl. Psp Psp Psp?" She's not a cat, obviously, but? Earth customs are hard. He is sure she'll understand. He moves his butt a little atop the globe, his trident's haft bouncing along the surface a couple of times as Garth wriggles in place. 

:'''{{#var:55|Supergirl (55)}} has posed:''' It is part of her routine now. Classes at college. Then patrols as a hero. Sometimes, the classes were missed due to having to be heroic but she's trying to be more focused. She had missed her own graduation ceremony from high school due to working as a hero, while her cousin was 'dead'. She had waited until after his return to enroll in college. It was all work, all dedication. Her parents worried but she was driven, needing to do this. Thus, she was making her patrol over the tri-state area. Right now, she was passing through Metropolis. So far it had been a couple of muggings and a cat in a tree. She'd made that same noise... Wait. What was that? She paused, floating in the air and turning her head to try to focus. Someone calling her name then the cat summoning lyrics that were known worldwide. Another cat in a tree? It was okay. She was a hero, she handled the big and the small. She swooped that direction, using her vision to see the spot she was heading. Which is when she spotted Garth sitting on the globe of the Daily Planet. Watched his lips as he called. She almost giggled as she shook her head, closing the distance and coming to a landing near him. "You're lucky I was passing through and have a soft spot for helping kitty cats." 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' "You know? You should get like a light with that 'S' shield on it or something. You know? Something to shine at a cloud or at, like, a building? Something to let it be know you or your cousin are needed. Now -that- would be handy!" Garth says this brightly, and wriggles his backside until he can slide off the globe to land softly and easily on his feet. There is no grunt with the fall. He shoves his left hand through his hair to keep the ends out of the way. "I'm Garth!" In case he needs an introduction. "Tempest. I am in charge of the Titans. I wanted to talk with you." The young man looks at his right hand, as if to make sure it is clean. He wipes it off on his hip, inspects it again, and with a nod offers it to Supergirl. "You do incredibly efficient, obviously dedicated work. You deserve to step out of your cousin's long shadow. Once upon a time myself and some others also stepped out of the deep shadows cast by our own families, mentors, or more famous friends. We set out to carve a new identity for ourselves. To demonstrate we were grown and our person. For most of us, this was not to break ties with another, but for some it was." Garth frowns a little remembering some of the drama from back in the day. "Can we just talk?" Garth says, his smile returning and a faint blush moving over his cheeks. "Just an honest, open talk?" 

:'''{{#var:55|Supergirl (55)}} has posed:''' "I am not Batman. We leave the whole spotlight thing to Gotham. It fits in better there," Supergirl says as she sort of half stood/half floated atop that giant globe. It wasn't the most flat of surfaces so it was easier to just hang there than put her full weight down. Her boots were touching but it was obvious they were not where her weight was resting. She takes the offered hand. A firm grip but nothing crazy. She knew how to modify her strength for the world around her. As her cousin had said once, living in a world of cardboard that they had to be careful not to break. "Supergirl. Although you know that. Duh." She rolls her eyes at herself then smiles brightly. "Yeah, I can talk. I'm really good at that. My Mom even points that out. And I sometimes talk too much like I just demonstrated." She giggles at herself and shrugs. "Nice to meet you, Tempest. What's up?" 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' "I don't talk enough, I'm told. Except when I'm nervous." Tempest feels like he is always nervous. He doesn't want to screw this up. He has a really good, firm grip, Nothing like she can dish out, but it is still an indicator of far greater strength than his form might indicate. "Once upon a time, I was Aqualad, if that helps. I was Aquaman's sidekick." He actually uses the term and has no issue saying it. "I grew up to be his partner and colleague. Stop me if I am presuming too much?" Tempest considers her, then commits. "You are not Superman's sidekick. You are his partner, albeit maybe a junior one. You have your own identity. You are your own person." Garth sizes her up, then squares his shoulders. "How about you join your own team? I want to make you a Titan. I want you to have your own place in our headquarters. I want you to have your own allies, your own place in your own group. I'm not saying that you should abandon what you have now. I am saying you should have all that, and a little more. Something that you get to forge. You can work with operatives around your age group. You can work your own cases, but always have backup. You can teach us some things, I am sure, and we can teach you. Then, in a year if you want to go full time Justice League or whatever, or if you want to stay with us, well, either way you will have options? Just think it over?" Immediate regret crosses his face. "That was, like, a hard sell wasn't it? I didn't mean to come on so strong. I might have projected a little of my own teenage years into that pitch." 

:'''{{#var:9664|Phobos (9664)}} has posed:'''     It is ever the situation in Metropolis with the reputation of the great city that it is a wonderful town where anything can happen. That's a good selling point for a great number of the people who live there and visit there. For in truth it is such a wondrous thing at times. To be walking down the street and see individuals of such iconic gravitas dashing across the sky.     But there is the other side which those who have lived there these last twenty years have realized that it truly means /anything/ can happen there. And usually it often starts like this.     A scream is heard, a shout going up shrieking a cry to the heavens as three streets down and one over, in a block of the burg that the heroes above likely can't see too easily unless they had something like x-ray vision or the like. But it's a shriek carried by the voice of one, and coupled with more of the same as cries of alarm are heard.     For on that street there is the rush of movement, a young man with blond hair rushing through the crowd down the side street, emerging from a package mart with a paper bag under his arm. His rush of speed is not what causes the shrieks, however. It's when no less than six... seven... nine? Perhaps even eleven flying cherubs the size of irate angry toddlers, flying after that blond youth. Their tiny wings flapping, their faces contorted into angry little cute baby faces. Normally not enough to cause shrieks and screams.     Instead those cries are caused by the /fangs/ that they have, the claws for hands, and the way their wickedly recurved bows fire extremely vicious looking barbed arrows right after that running youth who seems to be fleeing for his life. 

:'''{{#var:55|Supergirl (55)}} has posed:''' "It was a good sale," Supergirl tells him, hoping to boost his confidence there. "I am more part time Justice League honestly. With Superman back, I'm can help out but obvisouly he's the big boots on the team." She considers a moment, looking off at the horizon then back over to Garth. "I was never a sidekick so I don't understand how that feels. I chose to put on the costume. My cousin preferred I stayed safe and lived a normal life but I was the one that pushed, became a hero on my own. He supports my choices even if he would've liked it to go differently." A moment of catching her bottom lip in her teeth as she considers. Then she opts to just admit it. "When Superman was gone, believed dead by most of us, I realized I wasn't as ready as I thought. I'm not as good as he is. I'm not that strong yet. But I do want to be. I want to get better. So I was working on a team of like-minded pe--" Her head snaps to the side as she hears the screams and she floats about three feet in the air as she is poised to respond. A peek through the buildings has her brow furrowing. "Phobos?" Yes, it is the young man she remembers. "I wonder if this is another family thing." She glances to Garth. "Even if it is, those things are going to either hurt someone or have people hurting themselves trying to get away. Want to join me for some heroing?" She doesn't wait for an answer, flying away at speed to try to intercept the youth and his creepy pursuers. 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' The Atlantean is nodding at Supergirl as she speaks. His agreement and even hope are obvious. He is a pretty good listener. Tempest is listening, not waiting for his turn to talk. Slowly, his lips start to spread into a happy smile. Garth thinks he actually has something to offer this woman. His ears are pretty good, but not as good as Supergirl's. The young man pauses a split second after she does and as she moves, he starts to follow. His own pace is more measured, both out of necessity and out of curiosity. Tempest pauses at the edge of the building. He, again, listens to Supergirl. "They are manifestations. Magic. I do not believe they are real, per se, but they are not?" He struggles for words. "Wholesome?" Yeah. Wholesome. She's already flying off at speed. A muffled, musical word escapes Garth's lips as he takes off as well; this fish can fly. That was not a spell. It was an Atlantean swear. "I am right behind you!" He can fly, and quite quickly, but not at all at speeds comparable to the woman of steel. 

:'''{{#var:9664|Phobos (9664)}} has posed:'''     They are fast enough indeed to get into a way to see what there is to be seen. The rush of the running youth, then the way the dozen cherubs all seem to fly up and spread out, their bat-like wings flapping and flapping as they make high-pitched mewling cries of annoyance as if terribly annoyed at whatever that blond youth must have done to gain their ire.     Some of the ones that are closest to the youth start plinking away with their arrows, and for what it's worth those projectiles at the least seem to have weight and mass for they hit and stick with a /fwip-fwip-fwip/ and the heavy /whok!/ of impact.     That young man they are chasing skids around a corner, snaring the heavy square plastic lid off a trash bit as the first few of them round that corner onto the side street, firing blindly at this point. One man cries out as an arrow embeds into his briefcase, snapping it open and sending papers flying with the wind.     But the four or so that make it around the corner all fire at the young man...     Who holds the trash lid up like a makeshift shield as those arrows thunk thunk thunk into its surface sticking into it and quivering as he laughs with a short sharp, "Hah!" And abruptly throws it back at them, smacking one in the face and sending it flying backward. 

:'''{{#var:55|Supergirl (55)}} has posed:''' Supergirl isn't going anywhere close to full speed. No need to destroy windows with a sonic boom at this range. But it is a speedy response. But this time, she's not sure what she should do other than protecting the people that aren't being hunted. As another arrow flies, she swoops in and pulls a woman clear as the arrow hits righ where the scared witness had been about to run. She sets her down behind something solid. "Stay there until they are out of range then run the other way." A brief instruction. Thens he is flying toward Phobos, coming to a hover not far from him. "Is this more family stuff I shouldn't get involved in? I mean, I don't want to offend you again. Are you the good guy or them this time?" Their last meeting had been a bit of a confusing mess, as she had thought Phobos the bad guy for chasing a cherub looking fellow. Phobos had a sword and seemed to be attacking. Turned out, the cherup fellow had stolen from him. So now, she just wanted to make sure before doing anything. 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' The Atlantean flies after Supergirl. As his feet hit the ground, Tempest has not ablated quite enough momentum. To be fair, he just figured this flying thing out in the last few months and he isn't quite one hundred percent at it. As he skids to a stop, Garth lifts his left hand and splays the fingers wide. Almost theatrically, he closes the hand into a first as the air about it shimmers with heat and then a flame wraps about his gloved flesh, sheathing Garth's limb in the red glow of flame. "Begone." He commands. The flame dances about his hand and then garth raises it to allow the magic flame to harmlessly shoot up about ten feet in a display of raw mystical power. The fire writhes in its jet for a second. "Or face the flames of the Atlantis before the fall." fTempest does angle himself as he speaks, trying to position his form between the cherubs and the man with the briefcase at least. 

:'''{{#var:9664|Phobos (9664)}} has posed:'''     "What, are you kidding me?" Alexander says as he skitters back a step, two. Though now the cherubs look a little less inclined to pursue with Supergirl just flying right there in front of them. But then the young Olympian replies to the Kryptonian, "I'm always the good guy."     Of course that's when one of those small creatures sort of looks at the others of its ilk, then waits for Supergirl's attention to be on Phobos before he baaaarely draws his bowstring back and plinks an arrow at the back of her head.     On the street, however, as Garth manifests that eldritch flame, it's the purity of the magic and its subtle strength that is in some ways more intimidating to the creatures, those spiritual manifestations of whomever's will that brought them forth. For his magic is a true magic, and it causes them to gasp and flutter and rush back and forth, their howls of revenge now turning to mewls of petulance and supplication as their little bows fall to the ground, abandoned. 

:'''{{#var:55|Supergirl (55)}} has posed:''' *PLINK* It is more the sound that gets her attention as the arrow hits Supergirl in the back of the head. It was a little plink as the arrow hits and falls to the ground with a clatter behind and below her. Supergirl turns slowly around, looking down at the arrow then head snapping up to focus narrowed blue eyes on the four cherubs ahead of her. "Which one of you did that?" she demands loudly. Her eyes go red, blazing with power and it is as though plasma was leaking out the edges of her eyes, flickering and flaming. "C'mon. Shoot me in the face. Or you do better when shooting at backs? Cause I am about to fry all of you. Enough. You will not endanger anyone else and you will not hurt Phobos. You want to, you go through me. And I am now grumpy." 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' "You should be ashamed of yourselves." Garth wags his right index finger at the petulant spirits in a very fatherly tone. He doesn't sound mad, just disappointed. "Now. you go on home. Back from whence you came and do not come back." Tempest instructs the spirits, still not raising his voice or seeming angry. "Be on your way." he instructs making a shooing motion with his right hand even as blue energy forms about the hand, and cool air wafts off that hand. Mist from the moisture in the air heating and then rapidly cooling begins to coalesce about Tempest, falling to his feet and pooling into a burgeoning carpet of cool and condensing fog about his booted feet. His tone is more firm now. "Go. Return from whence you came and do not trouble my person again, or you will know my power and my wrath." Tempest starts to look over one shoulder to see how it is going in the alley way, but it is a quick glance and he cannot see past the corner. "Everyone okay in there, Supergirl?" 

:'''{{#var:9664|Phobos (9664)}} has posed:'''     Suddenly the four cherubs that are around the corner are /just/ as discombobulated and petulant as the others that are withstanding Garth's wrath. They drop their little bows and start to flap around, clasping their hands, pleading in their high pitched chittery voices speaking in some sort of early Hellenic language that is Greek-ish, but not quite.     They gather together as the others that had been cowed by Garth's display rush toward each other and all of them seem to hug each other as if trying to console themselves at being so shocked and chagrined by these angry large people.     It is hard to understand what they're saying, but they are masterful with their body language clearly trying to convey that they were doing nothing wrong, and now they are being tormented by the big bad heroes. Oh woe is them. Yet at Garth's behest they start to gather up and nod to each other as if they'll see each other some other time. Then their forms take on a wispy quality, flittering away from the imagery that had been chosen for them and then disappearing into faint energy-like sprites before fading entirely from view.     But Alexander straightens up and grimaces, "See, that's what you get. Messing with me. I got big time friends." Of course it helps they tried it in Metropolis. 

:'''{{#var:55|Supergirl (55)}} has posed:''' The red fades from Supergirl's eyes as the demonic cherubs drop their bows. Then they all whining and chittering leading her to actually feel bad for scaring them. But they were the ones shooting arrows and endandering people! "We're good, Tempest." Then the little cherubs turn into something else and are gone. "Whoa." A shake of the head then she calls. "Come on around, Tempest." When he does so, she settles her booted feet on the ground, standing for real this time instead of half-hovering. "Tempest, this is Phobos. Phobos, Tempest." 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' "We get it." Tempest assures them as they sublimate. "You are not bad, you are simply doing as you were bade. Still, we cannot have this sort of pandemonium loose on the street of Metropolis." Again with the paternal tone. Once he is certain they are gone, his purple eyes sweeping about, Tempest extinguishes his fists. The Atlantean strides around the corner and looks Supergirl over, making certain she is well. "Any damage?" He looks over towards the other young man. "Any clue why they were after you?" Tempest has a more genial tone. "I'm Tempest. You seem to know Supergirl, is that a metahuman name or more the son of Ares, Fear himself?" He asks, still alert and his head moving a little as if to make for certain the cherubic little horrors are gone. Again, Tempest is casual about this magic and godly thing. Interested and sincere, not in awe. 

:'''{{#var:9664|Phobos (9664)}} has posed:'''     "Helloo." Alexander says as he lifts a hand to wave at Garth but then steps forward to stand closer to them both. He offers a handshake to the Atlantean as he smiles a little, perhaps a touch wanly as he murmurs. "It's a small family feud sort of thing." He offers that insight.     And if his hand is accepted it'll be a nice firm handshake, but not aggressive. Business-like with its three quick pumps and then done. Though it lets him straighten up afterwards and look around, then he tilts his head sidelong.     "But yeah, Ares is my dad. It's a long weird story that..." He sort of cants his head in Supergirls' way and murmurs, "I can't remember if I told you or whatever. But yes. Family stuff."     That said he rests his hands on his hips. "Appreciate you guys being around. Sort of a nice fringe benefit of being in Metropolis. Usually I spend most of my time in Manhattan." 

:'''{{#var:55|Supergirl (55)}} has posed:''' "You told me that you were Phobos but we didn't get into all the dirty details, no," Supergirl offers to him as an explanation. It had been kind of a brief meeting. "Were they sent by that one that likes to annoy you? The one you were chasing with as sword?" Yeah. That happened. She glances at Tempest. "A family member, cousin, something or other, stole from him. I just saw him chasing the guy, thought Phobos was the bad guy at first. It was confusing." Then back over to Phobos. "Usually there is someone around here to help. I was only passing through this time but Superman spends a lot of time here so likely would've shown up." 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' His own handshake is both firm and friendly. There is no malice to him at this moment. Again, Tempest simply listens. His jaw softens. Slowly he nods. "Family issues? I can relate. Maybe not quite to yours, but I can relate. Phobos, are you in trouble? Do you need help?" He flicks his gaze to Supergirl. "Have you got someplace you can go? I mean, if we leave you to this, are those things going to show back up? Or are you usually okay?" Tempest is obviously fishing. "I mean? the Olympians can be a hassle." His tone is not laughing, but it sounds like he might have a little experience. 

:'''{{#var:9664|Phobos (9664)}} has posed:'''     "Parnus, maybe." Alexander answers Supergirl's question, "I don't know. Probably?" Which might be a damning answer in and of itself to be fair. But the blond-haired deity slides his hands into the pockets of his blue jeans, shifting his weight back on his sneakers as he looks between the two of them. "But really, appreciate the help. I was vaguely worried about, you know, collateral damage. But I'm trying to keep a semi-low profile. Which, yeah, can be difficult."     Then to Supergirl he lifts a hand, "I'm just here to go to the circus, weird that we met each time I've come out this way. Fate and all that." Which, for some reason, makes his lip twitch a little as he turns his gaze back to Garth.     "I should admit to you I am envious of your magical talent." The young man says thoughtfully, eyes lowering to the gear the man wears. He bite his lower lip then looks back up and murmurs, "Oh I'm... I mean fine. I think it might have something to do with my cousin feeling like this is his turf for some reason? I'm only here for the weekend then back to the city." Which 'The City' means Manhattan assuredly.     "But I appreciate the concerns I can usually handle things. I was..." He shifts his weight onto his back foot and gestures down the way, "Sorta heading for that alleyway, then up towards the roof to try and get some room to handle them. But meh, lucky you guys came along." 

:'''{{#var:55|Supergirl (55)}} has posed:''' "Yes, Parnus. That was the name. Over a thousand and likes to bother you for some reason. And teleports when confronted." She remembers that part well. "He does seem able to handle himself," Supergirl confirms. "He was doing well the last time. Also has some metahuman stuff. Well, guess that's godly stuff instead of metahuman. Or alien. Or Atlantean. Or whatever." She dismisses that as the not important part. "You came here to go to the circus?" She caught that. And it seemed odd for a grown man to be following a circus. "Is this like peanuts on the floor and animals in the rings or one of those artsy ones?" 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' "That Big T? It's ours? er.. Mine? My team's. It is our headquarters." Garth fumbles it. "I'm the leader of the Titans." He fishes in his belt and comes up with a laminated card. His Royal Highness Garth, Prince of Shayeris, Ambassador of Atlantis, Poseidonis with a string of contact information. Garth presses the card towards Phobos. "It really? it's just awful to be alone." He says succinctly, not a clue that he might be construed as flirting with the other young man. "You might have friends with us. If you decide you want friends to help you with your family issues, in exchange for helping those friends with their own troubles, give me a call. We will arrange some meetings. See if you like what we are about? See if it is a purpose and a challenge that suits you?" Tempest shrugs his shoulders. "Or don't." His smile is sincere. "Consider it." Supergirl's say so was enough for Tempest. 

:'''{{#var:9664|Phobos (9664)}} has posed:'''     "Artsy," Alexander says off-handedly, but then his brow lifts as his eyes distance a little. "Though I think they do have an elephant." But for now that's all she gets out of him about the circus as he shifts his weight to the other Chuck Taylor sneaker.     "The big T? The building?" Accepting the card his hazel eyes lower to consider it and he reads, eyebrows lifting slowly as his head bobs a few times. Then he smiles a little and meets Garth's gaze. "Oh hey, that's a kindness. Thank you." A look is given to Supergirl as he holds up the card to show it to her then looks back at it.     "I mean, this is nice of you. But man, I sorta come with a lot of baggage." The way he says that it's in a warm pleasant way, self-deprecating assuredly in one way but honest in another. 

:'''{{#var:55|Supergirl (55)}} has posed:''' "Everyone has baggage." That's how Supergirl sums it up. She glances at the card as it is shared by Phobos, quickly scanning and committing it to memory. Then a glance back to Garth. "You're a prince? You didn't mention that before. I mean, not that it matters matters but it is kind of cool." Focus, Kara. You're being odd. "I'm a member of an almost extinct species. He's apparently a prince with magic powers who will someday be a King." She pauses. "Okay, not sure what the downside is there but I'm sure there is one!" Back to the pep talk! "So we all have our things. And maybe we can help each other cope with those things better. You can't always pick your family but your friends and teammates you can." 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' "Well. Uhm. We have a space princess. Maybe two." Tempest slants Supergirl a little side-eyed look. "A vigilante from a lineage of them, and an Atlantean prince who might be the doom of his people and was therefore left out for the fish to eat because he has purple eyes?" Tempest lifts his brows, which shows off said purple eyes. "This is not a contest or anything. Baggage is sort of what we are, Phobos." Garth makes a little gesture of negation with his left hand, as if urging Phobos to forget that is even a thing. "Don't make up your mind. Take some time when you have the time to think it over and call the embassy. I'll make certain they are expecting the call and will schedule you, and I'll give you a tour?" Garth offers his right hand again in a firm clasp. Tempest rolls his shoulders in a shrug at Supergirl. "I thought you were a Kryptonian Space Princess?" He sounds confused. "Not that it matters?" his lips quirk in a self-deprecating smile. "The water control and the ability to command the denizens of the ocean? Those are the signs of royal blood. Add to it my magical affinity and other little traits? It.." How to say this? He considers. "It's complicated. Ask me sometime to explain it all, and I will." 

:'''{{#var:9664|Phobos (9664)}} has posed:'''     "And I'm an anthropomorphic manifestation of the collected psychic zeitgest of the human race personified in a being representative of an abstract concept." The youth looks at them and then spreads his hands, "Just... I don't..."     Alexander lifts a hand to rub the back of his neck after he pockets that card and keeps it on hand. "I don't exactly run around and do the hero thing. But yeah sure," He nods to Garth, "I'll take some time and we can chat, and hang out." He looks at Supergirl and bobs a nod in her direction then back to Garth.     "Oh hey..." He slides a phone out of his back pocket and frowns, "Speaking of the circus, I gotta get over there. You guys would be welcome to come if you wanted. I could get you tickets." And with that he's already sort of moving back to the main street and off the side street. Though he stops beside that fallen garbage can lid to /snap/ one of the arrow shafts off of it and pockets that. "Anyways..." 

:'''{{#var:55|Supergirl (55)}} has posed:''' "No, I'm definitely not a princess. Not even close." Supergirl has to giggle at the concept, it's so odd. Certainly someone might have thought it but it's still not true. "Maybe being royal yourself with a teammate who is a princess has skewed your preception." As Phobos goes to make his departure, she takes that as her cue as well. "I need to get going. Got homework for class in the morning." And there is the side of her that is so at odds with what she is. "Tempest, thank you for the offer and I think I'll take you up on it. I'll get with you later for more information on how I'll fit in." Then a glance at the young man making his exit. "Tickets would be nice. I love a circus. As long as it isn't one of those ones that'll make me blush in which case no thanks." Which ones would make her blush? That's for him to guess. "Until next time you are dealing with crazy cherubs, Phobos." 

:'''{{#var:9660|Garth (9660)}} has posed:''' "Phobos? That's perfect." Tempest says, his smile a quick flash of pearly teeth and warm emotion. "Even if it is just to hang out. I? do not have a lot of friends who live in the same number of worlds as I. Metaphorical worlds, I mean. Just call if you want. I cannot attend a circus; I have a party to continue to make arrangements for and diplomats to deal with. Enjoy yourself." He simply hands Supergirl one of his cards."No. You hold yourself like a princess." his shoulders move in a shrug. "But, you are right. What do I know about surface culture, let alone Kryptonians." His smile is another flash of pearls and warmth. 

:'''{{#var:9664|Phobos (9664)}} has posed:'''     With that Alexander spreads his hands and says, "Alright, catch you guys later!" He turns and starts to head back down the street after lifting a hand in a wave. How will he get those tickets to them? Probably a call to Garth who can distribute if needs be. But the future shall see! 
}}

12078/Upon Reflection I

2020-08-26T02:18:31Z

Tempest: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2020/08/25 |Location=Library - Xavier's School |Synopsis=A discussion in the library about Child Soldiers involves Shannon, Pixie, emma, and Piotr..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2020/08/25
|Location=Library - Xavier's School
|Synopsis=A discussion in the library about Child Soldiers involves Shannon, Pixie, emma, and Piotr
|Cast of Characters=284,113,8765,248
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:284|Colossus (284)}} has posed:'''     It is a look that folks have seen on the big man's face in the past. For all that Piotr is a simple man and not one to speak at length, he is not stupid. He might not be the genius that many about the mansion are, but he is smart enough to keep his mouth shut and let other people assume he is dumb because he is large and quiet. Piotr is Russian, and that is one of the most well-read cultures on the planet, largely because the winters are so cold. There are a few large, comfortable chairs here and there where Piotr can be found reading some tome. To be fair, it is usually a hefty novel. This is different. He's carefully shelving books onto the library shelves and carefully arranging them. The Dewey decimal codes on their spines are new and are written in Piotr's precise, clean handwriting; that means that these are books he purchased and is placing in the library for others now that he has read them. They read: 305.906, which is the code for topics that include child soldiers. Piotr looks troubled and thoughtful as he puts the books away, which is rarely a good thing. Piotr ruminating over books is more common than some like to pretend; thoughtful is a word to describe him and the word has several meanings. Piotr is silent as he methodically arranges the shelf. The arrangement itself is almost a tiny little insurrection of its own; it has bookends and the selection of six books is carefully separated from the other books on the shelf as if he is quietly highlighting the section. His shoulders are tight, his posture, as always, flawless, but the set of his jaw is determined. 

:'''{{#var:113|Emma Frost (113)}} has posed:''' Carrying a file with her as she steps in from the back lanai, Emma Frost's arrival is much quieter than some. Not that she's sneaking. It's just that the sound of her heels is muffled by the pad near that doorway meant for wiping feet. As the cool blonde steps into the room, her ice-blue eyes are drawn toward the massive figure shelving books. Curiosity is not usually left unsated when telepaths are around, and Emma's brows pull together just slightly at the sense she's getting of the Russian's state of mind. "Piotr," she greets with a calm tone. "Are they books you enjoyed?" She doubts it. But it's the polite thing to ask when someone is setting books into a special aside. It implies they're being recommended. Even when a giant Russian looks rather like he might be grinding his back teeth. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      Perched in a very comfortable chair, Shannon's got her phone out in her hand, smiling a little bit to herself as she peers at the screen. Her posture is a bit more relaxed than it has been of late, and she is actually humming softly, a lilting little tune. Her wings are somewhat outspread to reduce bulk immediately behind her, the teen sitting with her legs curled up beneath her. She's in black leggings, a long black t-shirt with a bright pink sequined heart adorning the front, and black socks. Glancing up, she smiles, raising one hand as if to wave to Mr. Rasputin. However, Ms. Frost's entrance forestalls any greeting, the winged teen returning to whatever she was looking at.      It was surprising, what one might hear, when thought to be in the background.... 

:'''{{#var:284|Colossus (284)}} has posed:''' Piotr replies, quietly, "More illuminating, Miss Frost." His tone is not cool, just reserved. He's not inimical to Emma, he simply is not close. His judgment is reserved. He lifts his hand to Shannon in a friendly manner. "They are not the sort of books to be enjoyable. They are more the sort of books that must be endured, understood, and even ruminate upon, and then shared." The big man takes a step back to look at the little insurrectionist isle of misfit books. His teeth actually nibble on his bottom lip. "DId you know I was sixteen when I was brought here? Little Snowflake-- Illyana, was playing in the fields when Xavier arrived. The harvest was going on. I destroyed a tractor to save her. I had to flee." He sounds wistful. "Kurt was saved from a mob." His blue eyes search out Emma's. "It never once occurred to me just how convenient that was. Do you think me foolish?" 

:'''{{#var:113|Emma Frost (113)}} has posed:''' Oh. Well.... That is interesting. Emma's blue eyes flicker to the teen in the chair, but she doesn't suggest the girl remove herself. Instead, she steps a little closer to the Russian while still leaving room for Shannon to assume herself included in the conversation if she wishes. "I don't think you foolish," Emma replies carefully. "I think... Charles had a need to help all of you. And that... it perhaps suited his own need to make a difference in the world." 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      Shannon's brows furrow, and her smile fades, as she listens. The Professor was someone she'd come to respect a great deal, as was Mr. Rasputin. Yet even she had encountered this very question, grappling with it alone in the night when there were none to listen. It hit particularly close to home, in more ways than one. The ripple of tangled emotion radiating from her seems more suited to someone at least five years her senior. How could one even begin to formulate a reply, without denigrating one side or the other?      "I don't think you foolish at all," she finally offers, her voice soft, her words measured and oddly thoughtful. "If we never question these things, we follow blindly, and that's a recipe for trouble. It's a question I ask myself every day. And there's no easy answer." 

:'''{{#var:248|Megan Gwynn (248)}} has posed:''' Megan Gwynn is not keen on starting up her first college year and with the last few weeks of summer nearing it's end, she'd rather be outside enjoying the warm weather, than cooped up in the mansion. But she had some important research to do. For...Some extra curricular activity perhaps. Which brings her here, to the library. Although she's not entirely sure she will even find such obscure works here, but it's worth a try. She'd been in the back during most of the conversation, not really eavesdropping as she peered at the history section of the library, but being particularly quiet at this hour of the day, she did catch a few words regarding Xavier. The mood seems kinda sombre and she frowns softly, stepping out to peer at them. "Huh, the professor you mean?" Megan bites her lip, thoughtful, concerned. "But I'm sure he had your best interests at heart?" 

:'''{{#var:284|Colossus (284)}} has posed:''' The big man just looks at Emma as if he finds that unsatisfactory. "You are trying to 'handle' me. I am Russian, not some spoiled Atlantean prince." Well. That was said. T cannot be unsaid. Piotr pulls in a breath, "That was beneath me. I allowed my distaste for your past behaviors to color my perceptions of him. I am a hypocrite. I will correct myself, and I apologize." Whether that is better or not, it was said. Piotr digs in deeper, doubling down. "I am sure he is lovely person?" Well, that is not going as well as he meant. Instead he merely thinks upon how sorry he is, which he genuinely is. "I deal with realities. I am not one to just simply 'handle'. Speak your mind or do not speak." That is not meant nearly as harsh as the words indicate. The tone is patient. "You have insight. Share it. I do not hate messenger, if the message is truth. I know Xavier meant well. I am ashamed that it is only as a grown man I worry that I am perpetuating his mistakes. I was weaponized, but I do believe in the cause. What I struggle with is if I am different than subject matter of these books." 

:'''{{#var:113|Emma Frost (113)}} has posed:''' It's funny... that the eldest of Charles's student might resist this questioning of themselves but the younger of them? He's doing it. It's about damn time. Emma folds her hands in front of her, still with the usual regal bearing but with something a little softer in her expression. "It was convenient as hell," she finally agrees quietly. "He had reasons... horror at what he'd already seen in the world, a need to build a group that would continue to fight that fight when he was gone." She pauses. "However, if you're asking me if it's okay? The answer is no. It is one thing to approach an adult, even a young one, and offer such a mission, idealized as it perhaps was. It's another altogether to recruit children to such a mission. To train them to fight from young ages... because by the end of that training, they know nothing else. No other way than war. Diplomacy, nuance, compromise... those options are lost when all you know is the fight. It is something Summers swore to me would not be perpetuated here." She slants a brief look toward the young women. "Though I'm not entirely convinced." 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      Shannon's eyebrows loft as she listens to the conversation, turning to look squarely at Emma. Was this the same person she had met in the medbay months ago? It was like night and day. Giving a flick of her eyebrows, she shrugs, settling back into the chair. "Funny you should talk about child soldiers. One of my best friends in the entire world -was- one. Operative word. And while he never shied away from a fight if need be, he actually would remind me that it wasn't all there was. Much the same as you're doing, Ms. Frost."      Glancing over at Mr. Rasputin, she lets out a little sigh. Without a single word, she pushes herself from the chair, her feet barely whispering along the floor as she moves over to join the two adults. If not prevented, she draws Mr. Rasputin in for a brief hug. "Sounds like you need that," she says, smiling a little bit. 

:'''{{#var:248|Megan Gwynn (248)}} has posed:''' Megan Gwynn blinks slowly at Piotr's sudden apologies. But of course, that is him, through and through. And though she doesn't know him well, she knows enough to know that he is a much kinder, more humble person than his sister, much like night and day. "Oh no..That's not what I meant. You have nothing to apologize for. I mean..I get it, for the original Xmen, it was different than it was for me. I *volunteered* to join, wished and dreamed of being a superhero since I was young. But for you..It was like a war. A desperate war that needed to be fought, perhaps..?" Megan frowns a bit, taking a step towards him, reaching out to lightly touch him on the arm, sincerity in her voice. People always assume she's just some shallow, flighty hyper faerie girl. But she can be thoughtful, sympathetic too. "Perhaps Xavier DID mean well, but perhaps you didn't entirely know what you were getting yourself into either?" Glancing at Emma, she smiles and nods in agreement. She does not know Emma that well, except that she was perhaps one of her favorite students in business class perhaps. Or so it was rumoured. "Ms. Frost is right. Wise words." A glance is given Shannon and she takes a step back so that she can give Piotr a hug. "Oh right..Bean..Wonder how he's doing these days?" she bites her lip. Yeah, she can talk a lot. Time to shut her mouth perhaps. 

:'''{{#var:284|Colossus (284)}} has posed:''' His voice is not sarcasm. "You think you can do better?" Piotr's brows narrow a little as he asks Emma this. "I doubt this. Not unless this new gentleman caller has you questioning your own ethics." The mansion rumor mill is real. Walk an Atlantean prince around the mansion and everyone assumes she's bumping guppies with him, or something. There is no antagonism in Piotr's voice.. In some ways it is both better and worse than simple antagonism. This is his unfettered, frank, and unfiltered opinion. "I doubt this, Emma Frost. I do not doubt you also mean well now. I have great faith in Jean and Scott. They would not have you here if you were not an asset. I am certain, though, that you are here to learn from us as well." Piotr simply drops his chin to her. It is not a dismissal, it is his unvarnished opinion. Piotr sweeps his arm out. "Megan is now an X-Man. A success or a failure? One can argue great success. After all, where else would she go? But did we program her into being a soldier? " He gives Megan a gentle look. "You can do and be whatever you want to be. I will work to make certain of that. My family owes you a debt. I am not sure though, that we are doing this right. But, I am not sure there is a right. I need to think about it a lot more." Guilt weighs upon him as he considers it. Piotr shakes his head at Shannon even as he fiercely squashes her to his side in a fraternal, protective, and maybe even paternal bear hug. It does not take too much imagination to conjure the sound of ribs popping, although it is not that fearsome a hug in actuality. Pete doesn't understand how to receive comfort, only deal it out. "You want this life. I cannot argue against it more. If you want to help the cause, be a lawyer. Be a doctor, like Henry. He strong, upright, and moral citizen. Be the example other mutants can point to. I believe in this cause, but I have doubts now. I am not sure there can be peace. If you three did not know me, my abilities are terrifying, da?" Piotr tilts his head. "I am an unstoppable man of metal capable of tearing through walls, ripping through tanks and generally doing whatever I please. If we are objective, is it not right that I am feared? You fear a gun for what it might do, da?" 

:'''{{#var:113|Emma Frost (113)}} has posed:''' Emma's chin comes up and she acknowledges Shannon's words and Megan's observation with a simple nod. Being here, among them, is difficult for her. Her demeanor is always reserved and slightly cutting, but this conversation appears to mean something to the woman most consider cold and sharp. "My *ethics* are the same as they have always been," she tells the Russian candidly. "However, the Hellions and what happened to the New Mutants? It taught me a few things as well." Losing those children to a war they weren't even really old enough to comprehend fully hit the telepath in places she lets no one see. "Teaching them to defend themselves and the people around them is not the wrong thing. But... teaching them team tactics as if they are a cadre of young soldiers? Yes, Piotr, I do disagree with that. And I opted to take the job here only with the understanding that we needed to be teaching the students be *better* than what Charles taught the original X-Men. There is a time and place in this world to fight for mutant rights. But they are not required to always be the ones stepping up. They should not be required to step up at all, if what they want is a quieter life. And they should not be taught team tactics -- programmed, in your words -- until brain development is complete." Which is 25, people! Not that she'll be able to convince the students currently here of that. She pauses and sighs quietly. "I don't know if we'll do it right either. It is a question that the leadership of this school will continue to wrestle. But going forward, I do know that the intent is to expand the students' perspectives about what this fight is... and what it is not. It's not us versus them, Piotr. It is a fight against a mindset. A fear of the unknown. A hatred of the Other based in fear. Mutants are just the latest in a long line of Others. And it must be fought in ways *other* than the ones we currently use. That said... right now, those current ones are all we have. I *hope* that we can build better." It's more insight into the Ice Queen than *any* of them have ever had. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      There's a cute little squeak from Shannon as she gets the stuffings hugged out of her, but it brings a huge smile to her face. Hugs were a good thing. "I'm already planning on being a doctor," she replies. "If Mr. McCoy can do it and still be part of this kind of life, there's no good reason I can't. He actually sets a very good example. Remind me to tell you about the project we're working on sometime."      Her smile doesn't fade as she peers up at Mr. Rasputin, canting her head slightly to one side. "Someone who didn't know you, sure, they might be scared. It'd be natural. But do I fear a gun for what it might do? No. Sure, I might be cautious. One could argue that it would be smart to be afraid of a stick, or a rock, or even empty hands wielded just so."      Only now does her smile begin to fade, and a light sigh escape the younger woman. "You're right. Some -do- want a quieter life. Mason was one of those, and he took that option. I bet he's doing well at Julliard, and really hope he's happy. Then there's Bean. He was a child soldier. I'm pretty sure you either know his history, or can look it up. He's never shied away from a fight, but he's taking the time to go to MIT these days to pick up some additional courses there, in relative quiet. Can't blame him one bit. Everyone's got that same choice, no matter what they're taught here. He was on the New Mutants with me, too, and I won't even begin to get into half the scrapes we've found ourselves in." She smiles faintly, chuckling. "It's that team training that saved our necks several times. Call me biased, but I'd argue -for- it. Like each one of you, each of us who's had that kind of training, it's not -all- we are."      Perhaps she had misjudged Ms. Frost--who was to say? This definitely was -not- the same person she had met months ago. Perhaps one day soon, she would have to sit down and re-evaluate her opinion at closer range.      However, something that was said a bit ago has her quirking her eyebrows. "Wait... an Atlantean prince? Is Mera still on the throne, then?" 

:'''{{#var:248|Megan Gwynn (248)}} has posed:''' Megan Gwynn blinks slowly in surprise. "But..But..We do..Good stuff? We save peoples' lives? We..We help people to understand that mutants can be good people too..Right? Isn't that a good thing?" she smiles faintly. "I'd say that makes us a success, yes?" Megan shrugs, "Honestly, what is the alternative? Once my mutation set in, I was pretty much ousted by my own family, hidden from the world..It..It was not much fun, being ashamed of who and what I am. At least here, we are safe, we are free.." As for the soldier bit? Another helpless shrug. "But that's our choice too, isn't it? Some of us come to the school to learn how to use our abilities, without fear or shame from others. Not all of us choose to be superheroes, to become soldiers. Maybe it was like that in the beginning but not anymore. And..And even now, you could always step down, become the fulltime artist you always wanted to be right?" Oh yes, she is pushing it a bit here, and Megan takes a deliberate, cautious step back. If he speaks of Illyana, how she forced *her* to become one of her soldiers, to fight a war in an hell dimension, to give up a part of her innocence for her sake..Well, it may well strike a nerve. But her animosity, what is left, is aimed towards his sister and not him. Still, Megan clenches and unclenches her fists as she looks away from him, doing her best not to take her anger out on him. "You know..I still feel a bit bitter for her part in..Changing me. Forever. But in the end, I couldn't regret the fact that I helped to save my peers and friends from certain death. Sure I was forced into her war, forced to fight, to kill even. But..I'd probably do it again if it meant saving lives." 

:'''{{#var:284|Colossus (284)}} has posed:''' He has many flaws, and Piotr will own up to them. Being a good, active listener is not amongst them. Piotr does listen to Emma as he squashes Shannon to his chest in his bear hug. He is quiet a moment after she speaks to consider her words. His reply is simple. "I cannot argue with your sentiment, reasoning, or conclusions. I do think you have changed though." Piotr says quietly. "For the better. You would not be here if you did not want to be a good person." The statement is firm but said with a quiet strength and certainty. "I am not a telepath, but it seems to me that wanting to be better is what we are asking of people. That they want to be open-minded. That they want to grow. Perhaps I should start considering you as the Emma that is trying, rather than the Emma who tries us." that is about as clever as Piotr's wordplay gets. He gives her a curt, respectful nod.     He reaches for one of the books to hand it to Shannon as he releases it. "That Team training is supposed to make you feel that way. Read this. It is homework." Abuse of power mode engaged. Megan gets a gentle nod and he lifts hand. "It is okay to feel what you feel. It is even okay to act as we act." Piotr has his tone carefully in control. "We need only be aware of it, and be aware of why we make the decisions we make and question our motives. We must examine our lives and think critically of our thoughts and actions. I am not saying we stop. I am saying that we should be mindful." 

:'''{{#var:113|Emma Frost (113)}} has posed:''' If this were a comic book, the Hallalujah chorus would be lined up behind Emma Frost singing for the fact that the towering Russian -- one of Charles Xavier's staunchest -- finally understands just a little. And clearly Summers and Grey are, in fact, doing what they claimed... because if they weren't, the two teens standing in front of the telepath would likely have reacted exactly as Katherine Pryde once did, defending a 14-year-old's position on the X-Men with fervor. A faint quirk of her lips betrays Emma's genuine pleasure at what she's seeing if one knows what they're looking at. And in the meantime... Emma doesn't rise to the bait. "Of course Mera is still sitting the throne. Some of you will be taking a field trip to Atlantis in the not-distant future, as well. We're working on an exchange program for students to get a better international experience as Atlantis takes its place in the world stage." There will be homework! Count on it! 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      Shannon nods, and smiles somewhat. "I'm glad to hear she's well," the winged teen replies. "She was very kind to me not long after I arrived here. Remind me to tell you the story sometime." It seems perhaps the young woman has her share of tales to tell already, if any ever asked! The mention of a possible trip to Atlantis elicits something of a secret little smile, as if there, too, there were more to tell. On this, however, she remains silent.      The book is accepted with good grace, and another hug from Shannon. While her strength is nowhere near Mr. Rasputin's, neither is she any slouch for her age. "It's good to be mindful. Yes, I do want this life. It's difficult to express why. But I'll remember to... question ideas." Her smile is wry, and she shakes her head, with a short little laugh. "I've had to do quite a lot of that the past few days." 

:'''{{#var:284|Colossus (284)}} has posed:''' "Plato wrote, though he attributed it to Socrates, 'The unexamined life is not worth living'." Piotr recites the simple dictum. "Just.." He considers for a moment. "...think?" He finishes a little lamely. "Just think about things. That is all. Do what I did not do and consider your choices. You have them. Make good ones."     He clears his throat. "If this is what walking about the ground with an Atlantean results in, I should ask you in your companion has a sister." Piotr sends Emma the best compliment he can. "Spaceba, Miss Frost." He gives her a slight chin bob in a respectful nod. Shannon gets another squeeze. "Actually read it. Pay attention to the parts where he is exposed to team building, an us versus them mentality then think about our danger room." Piotr wrinkles his nose. "I should go. I have spread enough disharmony for the nonce." 

:'''{{#var:248|Megan Gwynn (248)}} has posed:''' Megan Gwynn draws a deep breath, still clenching and unclenching her fists. Piotr's words reach her though and she nods, biting her lip. "I know..I get it. We shouldn't be mindless soldiers either, you're right of course." he's given a faint smile. "Thank you.." A curious brow is arched at Emma however, at all this fish talk. "Oooh, Atlantis? Like the mystical underwater kingdom? That'd be super cool! Oooh, sign me up!" and just like that she's back to her old, hyper self again. Enough of this serious talk. She just gives Shannon a look and rolls her eyes. "honestly Shannon, are there any famous figures in the world that you aren't best buddies with?" Megan makes a face and chuckles, yawning a bit as she finds a couple books that might prove useful and heads for the circulation desk. "Well as fun as this was, I need to catch up on some much needed reading. See you all later!" she waves as she heads out. 

:'''{{#var:8765|Shannon (8765)}} has posed:'''      "Hey, I'm not best buddies with her, Megan! I just wound up meeting her once at a charity event for a children's hospital. She happened to be very kind, that's all!" Shannon rolls her eyes and chuckles, shaking her head.      Indeed, there was some reading to do! Nodding once, she smiles at Mr. Rasputin. "I will. Though I've got my thoughts on the danger room as it is. It is what we make of it." Pure, simple, to the point. "Our lives are what we make of them, too." 
}}