10480/On The River

On The River
Date of Scene:	19 December 2019
Location:	New York City
Synopsis:	Duncan rescues a vigilante from a watery grave! Cocoa is had.
Cast of Characters:	Duncan MacLeod, Carrie Kelley

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Duncan MacLeod has posed:
The evening is wearing on, and the lights of New York shine like stars. Duncan's boat bobs a bit in the river as he lounges back idly on the deck. It's been a slow day...which is a good thing in the Immortal's mind...and he is hoping for a quiet night as well. His ponytail is let out, letting his long, dark hair tumble about his shoulders. A lantern burns brightly on the deck, giving him enough light to read his dog-eared book by.

Eventually he rises to his feet and stretches, making his way over to the edge of the deck to peer out at the water.

Carrie Kelley has posed:
The dark water of the bay sloshes quietly against the sides of the barge as the night continues on. There's the occasional peice of garbage that floats by as well... but the light of the lantern reflects off something else in the water not too far off. A flash of deep red which didn't quite belong in the water as it floats and bobs along drifting ever closer to the barge.

Kestrel in her red and black suit hangs onto a float with one arm using it to keep her head above the icy water. It wasn't that long ago she had taken a dive off a smuggler's boat further out and begun the long, cold swim back to shore. She didn't have any other choice. But every part of her ached with the cold that had seeped in through even her insulated suit, and her kicks were tiring her out more than getting her anywhere at this point. She wasn't too far from shore or at least a marina, but... Far enough it felt like an eternity. With her eyes half shut, exhausted, she just follows that little light she'd caught sight of for now not quite realizing what it was.

Duncan MacLeod has posed:
He lets out a soft sigh as he lifts his gaze from the water to idly watch the city skyline. The man brushes his fingers back through his hair as his memories drift backwards to an older city. These quiet days tend to allow his mind to drift, for better or worse. Duncan is just about to turn around when he catches sight of the floater, and his eyes widen.

He leans over to grip the lifesaver on the side of his barge and he tosses it out. "Hey! You need help?" His accent is rather local, not sounding at all like where he is actually from. Unlike the older MacLeod, Duncan has worked hard to fit in.

Carrie Kelley has posed:
That voice snaps her out of the tired haze that had settled as she just works to kick, and swim, using the float she'd purloined far more than she'd like to admit. The splash of water as the lifesaver hits causes her to blink rapidly several times with her head lifting off the float for the first time in awhile to get a good view. A single gulp of air is swallowed as she works her jaw free to try and speak... Only to get out a garbled noise with teeth chattering. Not good. Not good at all. Instead she nods sharply, quickly, and reaches her free hand out of the water to hook on the lifesaver.

"Y-y-yes p... pleeze..." A huffed, frustrated breath comes along with a small laugh at her own situation. But at least she was found by someone OTHER than the smugglers it seemed. That was a start. A good one.

Duncan MacLeod has posed:
He pulls on the rope, dragging the girl along the surface of the water and towards the ladder on the side of the boat. If she needs any help there he calls out for her to rest in the middle of the ring, and he hauls her up, hand-over-hand, slowly. Either way she likely ends up on the deck eventually. His brow furrows as he sees the state she is in. "You need to warm up. Come on..." If she lets him, the man puts an arm around her shoulder and guides her towards the stairs down into the deck below...which is fairly warm. One of the rooms has a comfortable looking couch beside a heater. He leans down to turn it up. "Do you need blankets? A towel? What can I do?"

Carrie Kelley has posed:
Kestrel might be stubborn but she was not stupid thankfully. The offer of help is taken and when he wraps his arm around her she tucks in against him perhaps a little too much. For now it helped steady her as she fights the urge to shiver even though she knew she probably ought to. Once inside the sight of the heater earns a little sigh of relief. "Thanks," she responds to Duncan at the offer of help thinking quick on what might best help. "Towel, um... something hot to drink?" She'd take hot water at this point. "Or warm at least. Maybe. I didn't expect to take a swim," she explains with a lopsided grin that might be more genuine if she wasn't currently shaking like a leaf. One hand lifts to sweep her hood back exposing her damp red hair to the thankfully warmer air. "Stupid of me."

Duncan MacLeod has posed:
"You probably shouldn't be wearing that soaked costume," he says softly. He reaches into a cupboard and pulls out a sweater and a pair of sweats...both too big for her, but better then nothing. He tosses them down beside her, along with a towel and some blankets. "I'll go make you some cocoa." The man turns his back and makes his way into the tiny kitchenette to give the girl some privacy so she can bundle up. He hums a bit to himself as he puts the kettle on for the cocoa. The song is something from a few hundred years ago, rising to the surface of his thoughts from some idle memory.

Carrie Kelley has posed:
Kestrel would have tensed at the suggestion if she weren't too busy shivering. He was right as well. When the towel, blanket and change of clothes are offered up she can't help but give a quick nod of agreement along with another mumbled thanks. He's barely out of sight before she's at least shucking her boots off. There's an attempt to keep the soaked pile of her costume neat, but the urge to just be OUT of it was rather tempting. A quick rub down of the towel, and then it's draped over her head. She can't recall the last time she got into clothes so quickly. The warm, dry too-big clothes are donned and she ends up sitting on that comfy couch near to the heater with the blanket tugged up around her. Her feet tuck out near the heater though to warm her toes with that pleasant burning heat.

It starts to help immediately even if it would take some time. Enough that the shivering slows to managable levels at least. While he's off making cocoa she listens to the song and feeling awkward pipes up, "Nice tune. Thank you... Seriously."

Duncan MacLeod has posed:
"It's fine," he calls back. "I'd ask what you were doing out there, but the costume tells me you probably won't tell me. I'm Duncan. Duncan MacLeod." He comes back into view, carrying two cups of hot cocoa. He nods as he notices the mask still being worn, but certainly doesn't push. He sits down beside her and holds one of the cups out to her. "You're lucky I was taking a break from my book. I was seconds away from stepping away and coming down here."

Carrie Kelley has posed:
Kestrel chuckles quietly at that. "It's not really a secret. I was tracking down some smugglers and kind of got dragged along on their boat. Figured it was better to vacate while I could still see the skyline... Thanks," she murmers again, reaching up to accept the mug with both hands wrapped around it. "I think I would have managed to get to shore on my own. Still wouldn't have been very well off, though. Guess I am lucky." A smile is flashed toward him in response. "I go by Kestrel. Nice to meet you." Then a small sip of cocoa is taken to let it warm her. Another shiver comes, but this one from warming up.

Duncan MacLeod has posed:
"Kestrel? A falcon, hmm? Interesting choice."

The man leans back a bit to watch her as she warms up. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Kestrel. I'm sure the smugglers had it coming." He brushes his fingers back through his long hair before he takes another sip of the steaming hot cocoa. It's good stuff. It clearly isn't out of a packet!

"Take your time to get warm and comfortable. When you're ready I can drop you off wherever, okay?"

Carrie Kelley has posed:
Kestrel finds herself grinning at his remark about her name. A light shrug shifts the blanket tucked around herself just a bit, and she allows it to slide off her shoulders at least. The oversized clothes she'd borrowed hid well enough after all and her hands were currently quite happily occupied holding that mug of cocoa.

"They like themes in my city. Birds, bats, take your pick. I'm from over in Gotham." It's here she pauses, nose scrunched with a thoughtful expression. "Uh, where are we near anyway? Kind of lost track back there a bit."

Duncan MacLeod has posed:
"We're actually right by Brooklyn," he explains. "But I don't mind heading towards Gotham. It just might take a bit." The man shrugs a muscled shoulder and sets his cocoa aside. "Ah, Gotham. I've spent some time there before. Seems like a lifetime ago, though. That city really took a turn after the Wayne's died. Real tragedy."

He leans over to the heater, adjusting it a bit before he leans back again.

Carrie Kelley has posed:
The cocoa is slowly sipped so as to enjoy both the heat and the indulgent cocoa itself. Now that she wasn't worrying about potential hypothermia she just felt... Tired. When he leans over to adjust the heater she leans back a bit to give him plenty of room and to ensure she doesn't accidentally spill any cocoa on him.

"Bit before my time... and looks like it'd be a bit before yours, too," she adds with a little chuckle. "Though, yeah, they were a progressive sort that put a lot of effort into renewing the city's infrastructure, and such. You can't be in Gotham long without hearing about their contributions and that of the Wayne foundation."

"Brooklyn's fine if it's out of the way. I know my way around the city a bit... Even if I usually wear different clothes when I visit," she jokes adding in another grin. Now that she had a moment she looks him over thoughtfully. How old was he? He certainly looked like he worked out. After another moment she remarks, "You don't seem overly put out by the whole vigilante thing."

Duncan MacLeod has posed:
"Yeah, my father told me about it," Duncan lies. "He spent some time in Gotham before they passed." He loops one arm back over the couch they are on, glancing up at the low roof of the deck. The man blinks then at her statement, and he glances over at her.

"Hmm? Oh. Well, you just got pulled out of a freezing river after no-doubt being in a fight for your life. The last thing you need right now is a lecture. You're a grown woman and you've made a choice on how you want to spend your time. Besides, being a superhero must be -very- exciting. Do you have superpowers?," he asks. The casualness of his inquiry is accompanied by a slightly teasing smile. He's curious, clearly, but also poking fun.

Carrie Kelley has posed:
"Well, I wasn't expecting a lecture," Kestrel admits before taking a sip of the cocoa again. She grins over the rim of the mug just a bit, and shifts to lean back into the couch further. It was a pretty comfortable couch. Her legs tuck up beneath her before she completely settles in. For now they weren't really going much of anywhere. "Just a lot of people seem to have some pretty strong feelings about what we do. Either we're criminals in our own right, or... Yeah, heroes." A little shake of her head comes at the last question though.

"Not unless you count dumb luck. No, Gotham's pretty light on the powered sorts. I'm just a basic human." Smirking she teases back, "You hiding any powers yourself?"

Duncan MacLeod has posed:
"I think you're just people," he says in reply to the criminals or heroes comment. "Nobody is all good or all bad. Some folks lean more towards one or the other, but...nobody is all one." He pauses. "Well, maybe Superman." Duncan turns fully towards her as she talks, smiling softly.

"I'm an ancient man pretending to be a modern one," he says casually, his tone joking. "Hundreds of years old, in fact." He reaches over to pick his mug up again. "I'm curious why you became a superhero, but...those stories tend to be pretty personal from what I've read."

Carrie Kelley has posed:
It's said so easily, so casually, and without much of a sense of acting that Kestrel stares at him when he does make that claim of being ancient. A light tip of her head follows as well as a small frown of confusion. It was one of her few skills she knew before even learning to be a vigilante; recognizing when someone was acting. Or lying as the case may be. The different methods were easy to pick up at times. This... was confusing though. It seemed legitimate. Yet...

A small shake of her head comes chasing the confusion away. She was tired. Too tired right now to call him on a bluff or not. "It seemed like a good idea at the time?" It's a bit joking herself as she grins. "Not really as personal as some. I guess I do rather owe you for yanking me out of there... and the cocoa. So tell you what: One question, and I'll answer it so long as it's not 'Who is Batman' or something of the sort."

Duncan MacLeod has posed:
"I'd rather not know who Batman is. Knowing that information wouldn't help me -one- bit, and it'd put whoever he is in danger due to another person knowing it." He furrows his brow. "That make sense?" Duncan shrugs after a moment and brings his cocoa to his lips for a long sip, draining the mug and setting it aside.

"Hey, that's a reason a lot of people do things. Nothing wrong with it." He tucks a locke of his long, dark hair behind his ear and considers for a moment before he shrugs. "A question? One question? Sure." He leans back a bit and thinks for a moment, glancing from her to the furnace and back again. "Want to grab coffee sometime?," the Highlander asks smoothly.

Carrie Kelley has posed:
"No, I get it. There's a reason why we wear the masks after all. Though I doubt I'd be anyone recognizable anyway, it's just how things are done," Kestrel muses toward the end thoughtfully. At least until that question is asked causing her to blink with surprise. Not only blink, but turn red faced as well, which was rather all the more obvious given she was still a bit pale from earlier.

"Are you asking me out!?" She blurts incredulously. A hand lifts to rest over her cheek rubbing fingers to it in an attempt to rid herself of that tell-tale blush she knew was there. Darn her pale skinned ancestors! The possibility turns over in her head a time or two before she mumbles against the palm of her hand what sounds like a rather sheepish 'Mmsure?'

Duncan MacLeod has posed:
He doesn't make fun of her reaction, though his snarky nature is being denied. He smiles softly instead, and he nods. "Great. We can exchange numbers before I drop you off." Duncan grins to himself, seemingly finding her reaction quite cute and endearing. He rises to his feet and reaches out for her mug. "Let me get us some more."

He moves into the kitchenette, calling out to her as he refills the kettle. "Now, on a date I'd likely see your actual face, you know. Unless we can find a way to have a date with masks or...something."

Carrie Kelley has posed:
The mug is offered back with a silent nod as she'd yet to find her voice again. It was easier when she wasn't having to look right at him. Usually it was easier wearing the mask to hide her reactions to begin with. She must really be off her game tonight. "Blindfolds," she suggests as she calls back in response. At least it was giving her a moment to recover herself. "There's some restaurant in New York that's entirely pitch black if I recall. Or there was. I don't really keep up on current trends so far as that goes." Crime? Politics? Sure.

"I suppose I'd have to tell you my real name, too. Unless this is just some clever super criminal trick to get my mask off." It's clear she's joking though. At least in this.

Duncan MacLeod has posed:
"Blindfolds sounds fun," he calls back. "I know the place." It's usually very expensive and hard as hell to get reservations. "I think I can get a reservation for this weekend if you're interested." Huh. "And I can call you a nickname until you're comfortable with telling me more." Duncan seems fine with it all, and even offers ways to make her keeping her secret identity easier and more comfortable for her.

"Also, wouldn't a supervillain have left you in the water? Well, I guess some like to keep it personal." He makes his way back into the room with her, offering her her mug as he slides down to sit beside her again.

Carrie Kelley has posed:
Kestrel reaches for the mug again with a little downward dip of her head. It's an attempt to hide a grin though her hair is still a bit too damp to do the proper 'fan in front of her face' to hide the reaction. "Fair enough," she reasons with a single nod. "I guess you could always call me 'Kes' or..." Here she pauses to consider. "Nancy." At least she kept to the basics.

Looking back toward him she regards him thoughtfully. "I was joking about the blindfolds. Though that is an option. ... This weekend would be fine," she agrees as well with a nod. "Provided nothing blows up at 'work' so to speak." Running a hand back through her hair she remarks, "This is certainly not how I expected tonight to go. Not that I'm complaining. I should probably get back soon though."