103/Alien in Harlem

Alien in Harlem
Date of Scene:	21 April 2017
Location:	Harlem, New York City
Synopsis:	Summary needed.
Cast of Characters:	142, Superwoman, Storm

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Adrien Agreste (142) has posed:
Tonight was an amazing night! Really. Luck was a ladybug and Chat Noir had refound her at last! After the battle earlier that afternoon, Adrien had rushed to his penthouse to feed and wait for Plagg to rest up... He couldn't even bother waiting for it to be fully dark. Not when his heart felt like it had wings and it was going to make him fly.

All because not only had he found Ladybug again, but when asked.. by HIM... she had said that she missed him.

This cat was on the moon.

Freshly transformed into his black cat suit, the green eyed blonde was now leaping from rooftop to rooftop, a huge smile on his face. He couldn't contain the energy of his pounding heart, the thrill of it all, the rush of being free once more. Sure, there was evil afoot again. But he had a reason to be Chat Noir again, a real one and not just, I'm bored.

No. Tonight, this alley cat was scouting his new bit of territory, and looking for his favorite hero.

He migh tnot have been being all too careful abotu his movements either. Which doesn't bother him. He's riding way too high right meow.

Superwoman has posed:
    There is someone else in Harlem this evening. A new face, albeit one hidden by a hoodie. A dark shadow across her face. Hands in her pockets. Under the hoodie, a dark gray shirt- crop top. Jeans. A pair of sneakers. Faora Hu-Ul hadn't yet found her place in this world- its a strange new place, weird. Confusing.

    But, Faora has no fear here. She's spent enough days in the sun that she is all but a goddess. Powerful beyond measure- a frightening being. Tonight, though, Faora walks with no purpose in one of the most dangerous places in New York City. A pale woman who looks like she's been in a fight, and recently- bruises still healing on her face as she turns into an alley. An alley inhabited by 'very bad men'.

Storm has posed:
Ororo Munroe is just emerging from the Apollo, smiling softly. She is wearing a white dress which complements her dark skin and... oddly... white hair which looks natural though she doesn't look old. Wearing heels as well, she starts to walk down the street, humming a theme song from the movie. She is simply heading back towards the vehicle she borrowed for this - her natural mode of flight... just isn't practical in the outfit she's wearing to blend in, but she still looks exotic.

Adrien Agreste (142) has posed:
Chat Noir takes a moment to stop on the edge of a building. His eyes are bright, the cat ears on his head, which are made of the same stuff as his suit but nevertheless MOVE just like cat ears, swivelling about to catch sounds here and catch sounds there. He knows his cheeks are flushed healthy from the run. He doesn't care.

The sounds of 'very bad men' in the alley below draw his green eyes, which a half heartbeat later spot the very normal looking woman in a hoodie (Faora) stepping into said alley.

Oh. This doesn't look like it's going to end well. None of the very bad man are akuma victims. Which means they are likely just punks looking for some trobule.

The grin returns in full force.

Luck be a Ladybug. Bad luck be a black cat. For these guys, it's THIS black cat:

Chat Noir leaps from the rooftop, uses two fire escape stairrails to angle himself so that he can land between bad guys who are turning to move toward what they think is an easy mark of the lone we-don't-realize-she's-a-bullet-proof-alien-from-another-planet woman. He lands in a crouch, staff collapsed into a six inch baton at the small of his back, tail brushing the ground though the tip is curled up like a tight Q.

"No need to be afraid, mademoiselle. Chat Noir is.... oh. I forgot. This is America. You probably speak English..." Chat Noir stands, straightening up from the three-point landing and cool look-i'm-a-super-hero pose to rub at the back of his shaggy blond head. He HAD been speaking French. Perfect, beautiful, native sounding french. A quick clear of throat and it's now English.

"You can run meow, lady. I've got this," says the young man in teh skin tight black leather cat suit, bright green cat eyes (even slitted), and roguish but winning grin which is tossed over his shoulder at Faora. A clawed hand pulls the baton free from the small of his back. The magic of his suit smooths away the soft French accent his English words would have otherwise had.

Superwoman has posed:
    "Hey Chica! You're going to the wrong place- you lookin' to score somethin, or you just slummin' it." There are ten of them- some local street gang. They're packing heat- guns. Knives. They mean business- flashing their shiny bits of metal. Showing off their pistols. "How about you give me a kiss, Chica?" The lead man asks, giving a laugh as he gets rather close to Faora Hu-Ul, who's face is bruised. Who's fierce blue eyes narrow.
    Faora just watches as Chat Noir makes his appearance. "No." she states simply. "I do not run." she says simply. "Not from the likes of these." Her voice is strong, and she pulls her hands from her pockets as she quietly steps in front of Chat. "If anything, you should stay behind me."

    Of course, the men look at each other- then over to Chat. "Put your little stick away, hero." Guns appear.

Storm has posed:
Ororo Munroe sighs as she hears those shouts as she walks into the opening of the alley. The brightness of the moon suddenly dims, as clouds suddeny form to eclipise the sky, as her eyes start to glow. The dark-skinned, white-haired woman raises a hand. "I suggest you drop your weapons," she muses softly as lightning suddenly crackles across the sky. She watches as all the metal held by the thugs starts to quiver and spark, as if being exposed to a low-level current. "For lightning is about to strike your weapons. If you're holding them... it won't be pretty." She watches impassively. "Do you people really have nothing else to do but to harrass passerbys?"

Adrien Agreste (142) has posed:
"Ooh. A fighter. I like that. Alright, lady. I won't get in your way," Chat says to Faora, letting her step in front of him even as some of the mean address him. The cat smiles again, mischevious all over his expression.

"Oh. How cute. You brought a gun to a cat-fight! Brava, monseiur! Brava. For my next trick, I'm gonig to help the beautiful young lady here make you all look like fools," states le Chat Noir. Behind him, his tail swishes side to side, the tip always curling in a Q.

And then the moon clouds over and Chat looks up.. then back as Ororo's voice fills the alley. Cat-eyes go wide, smile growing a bit concerned until it's clear she's on 'their side'. For the moment anyway. He'll put the staff away now. No need to risk the Weather Woman mistaking him for a thug.

After all, Cat's still got his claws.

Superwoman has posed:
    The men falter when the weather changes, looking up and over towards Ororo as she blacks out the moon and the woman's eyes start to glow. Its a moment of hesitation- its a moment of weakness. "What the hell... Shit! We got tights, man!" one of the other men says as his knife starts to glow- dropping it away.

    But all it takes is a moment's hesitation. Faora doesn't warn. She doesn't ask them to drop their weapons. She simply attacks. The movements are impossibly fluid, its like watching a human wave. Ten, maybe fifteen fluid movements at a speed that's almost impossible to follow. Ten bodies hit the floor all at the same time- wheezing, turning in pain. They're not dead- but they're certainly not in any mood to get up.

    "I did not need either of your help." Faora says in her oddly accented voice. In that accent which has no Earthly partner. An accent no other Kryptonian has- the part of being a soldier and not a scientist. "Either of you..." she says, as she picks up one of the guns and points it quietly at the head of the leader- "Well, you have something to say, kid? Does this thing make you feel strong?" she wonders softly.

Storm has posed:
Ororo Munroe raises an eyebrow, the glow of her eyes fading. "Oh my... I suppose you did not," she muses. The clouds part slowly, and deliberately, just enough to shine moonbeams down on Faora, Ororo herself, and Chat Noir - it's a flashy use of her powers. "All I wanted is to enjoy a play. Do you need further assistance?" she asks Faora.

Adrien Agreste (142) has posed:
Chat Noir has taken a breath to speak when... everyone is on the floor, and the woman with the weird accent is pointing the gun at one of the guys. His tail straightens in sudden surprise and he moves over to put a clawed hand gently on Faora's shoulder.

"You've made your point, ma cherie. No need for the gun now," he's saying. Becasue he HEARD her.

Superwoman has posed:
    Faora quietly looks at the gun, holding still at the punk's head. Her finger isn't on the trigger- she's got excellent trigger discipline. "You realize that this primitive weapon is absolutely useless, don't you? Throwing a slug of lead at a pitiful speed." She shakes her head, looking over at Chat Noir. "This does not make you powerful, little boy." she states, still holding the weapon on the cowering man. Slowly, she lifts the gun again. This time she levels it at her own throat- the muzzle under her own chin. Now she snatches the trigger.

    *BLAM* A flash of light, like the lightening that Ororo controls. The slug flattens against Faora's flesh and falls to the ground. "There is no power in this weapon." she says softly, as she then balls the gun in her fist like it was toilet paper and throws it to the ground. "As my friend has said. No need for the gun."

Storm has posed:
Ororo Munroe didn't flinch, nodding in satisfaction. Seeing things handled, she begins to leave the alley, all remaining clouds dissipating. Confident that nobody is going to die tonight, and nobody undeserving is being hurt, Ororo steps away and resumes her previous course, back to the rental car - glad she didn't have to fly tonight - this is _soooo_ not the outfit for that.

Adrien Agreste (142) has posed:
Chat Noir flinched. He flinched badly. He thought Faora was going to kill herself. He even tried to reach for the gun, to pull her hand away (it was like trying to pull the Eiffel Tower!), and then BANG! Chat watched in horror as the bullet...

...did absolutely nothing.

"......"

Cat caught his tongue.

Superwoman has posed:
    Faora bows her head quietly to Ororo, the hoodie still casting a shadow across Faora's face. "Thank you." she says simply, before she looks over to Chat Noir. "Your assistance was appreciated." she says softly as she looks down to the punks, all of them terrified as Faora stands over them. "I would suggest you all go, and re-evaluate your choices. Leave your weapons. You will no longer require them."

    The punks don't need to be told twice- they run. They go. Just as they've been told. She looks to Chat Noir then. "You are okay? Your heart is beating fast."

Storm has posed:
Ororo Munroe walks away, content that her small part helped. Wondering who that woman was who moved so fast and strong. She didn't get a name, only saw her in profile. But that access is unmistakable, and... she would know it if she heard it again. she climbs into the rental car, sighing as she puts it into gear. Cars are so silly.

Adrien Agreste (142) has posed:
Clawed hand letting her shoulder go, Chat Noit nods to the appreciated assistance before scrambling mentally to try to find his suave, easy-going, mischevious cat's grin.

Rummage rummage. AHA! There it is!

Grinning, Chat Noir nods, lacing his hands behind his head so he can cant a jaunty angle with his body.

"Oh, purrrfectly fine, lady. Just had a bit of a start, that's all. Really. I'm feline just fine," he says with that carefree grin.

Superwoman has posed:
    Faora stands quietly, looking to the man who speaks oddly. Her eyebrows knit together. Her head cocks to the side. "You are cat just fine? I do not understand." she states. "You speak oddly. It confuses me." she adds. She has no grin- no smile. There's something about her that is deathly serious.

Adrien Agreste (142) has posed:
Wow. This one has NO sense of humor.

"I'm feeling fine. Feeling... sounds like feline.. I'm a cat... Wow. the pun just isn't funny when you have to explain it," Chat seems to complain lightly, jaunty angle falling into awkward teen.

Superwoman has posed:
    Faora still looks confused. "But the words mean different things." she notes. "I do not understand." She shakes her head and looks up towards the sky. "But, there is very much I do not understand." she offers before she she's off. Straight up. Into the sky and into the night, just flying away.

Adrien Agreste (142) has posed:
Leaving Chat Noir looking up at her from the alley.

"Ooookay... America is officially weird.......I like it!"