11695/Are There Ever Off-Hours

Are There Ever Off-Hours
Date of Scene:	29 June 2020
Location:	Central Park, Manhattan
Synopsis:	Volt and Nightingale make a public appearance!
Cast of Characters:	Volt, Nightingale

---

Volt has posed:
Being a superhero is challenging. Beyond the requirement to stay in peak physical condition, relentless training, and remaining ever-alert, there's a mental tax to be paid as well. Specifically, the conundrum of how one should present oneself. If a superhero is seen not engaging in heroic acts, are they considered lazy? How much should the public interact with heroic types? Is there a limit?

Volt remembers a few short years ago when he idolized the world of superheroics and juxtaposed it against his own life's turmoil; how much it meant to him to see people use the things that made them strange to become something more. For him, it was inspiring. But he never met any superheroic folks until he traveled across the country. Would things have gone differently if he had? Things certainly changed when he finally met people he could relate to here. Heck, it's why he's become what he has.

Volt's decided to take that social risk and present himself as a public entity. The Titans are already on good side of the law, and he's a known member. He has no reason to worry about Johnny Law walking up and demanding ID; there's an understanding. But citizens have a chance to strike up conversation, ask questions, and feel secure. Especially kids. Maybe there's one out there who was in his position, who'd really benefit from seeing a positive example; to not fall into self-loathing and isolation.

The teen Titan is, thus, planted in the middle of Central Park in full regalia, cape rustling in the occasional breeze. Arms are folded against his chest, boyishly confident smile on his face. Occasionally, he sets a fingertip to the corner of his visor, distracted by a dispatch message - only to find someone else is already on it. So he resumes the folded-arm position, nodding and smiling to citizens who look his way.

A girl rushes to his side to ask for a selfie. Without missing a beat, his arm sets around her shoulders and he shoots a wink and sideways-peace sign for the camera with her. All a-giggle, she hurries away, and he's right back to his not-quite-stoic pose.

Nightingale has posed:
     While Shannon is a member of the New Mutants, they are nowhere near as public as the Titans. In point of fact, outside of the school--and sometimes even within the school--they tend to keep a fairly low profile. Back in her dorm, the winged teen herself was thinking of her journey over the past year so far, and curls her lips upwards in a smile, thinking of the heroes she'd met, the ones she'd come to know in her new home, and perhaps even the one she was becoming. So many had touched her life for the better, some to a greater degree than others, and she longed to give some of that back to others where and when she could.

     Slipping her phone out of her jeans pocket, she taps out a quick message to Drake. <<Hey, good lookin'. Whatcha got cookin'?>>

Volt has posed:
Bzzt. Bzzt.

Volt blinks and retrieves his Titan communicator, giving the disc a look. Conveniently connected to his phone, the message is displayed. With a bemused smirk, gloved thumbs pat about the device to send a message in return.

<<Hanging out at Central Park. Suited up. Being public.>>

The device is put away again. If he knows his girl, she'll likely turn up soon. And that's fine. He's not here to make girls swoon, so there's no reason he should hide that he's dating someone. Right?

Nightingale has posed:
     Bzzt. Bzzt.

     Shannon glances down at her phone, letting out a little gigglesnort at the return message. "Might've known," she murmurs to herself, shaking her head and laughing. She remembered the one time she had been out with him, in her black jumpsuit, but no mask, an attempt at being somewhat public. It hadn't felt quite right at the time, and she was worried about the risk of bringing trouble to the doorstep of the school where it would endanger her friends.

     Too, she thought about possibly creating something other than her black bodysuit, or rather, something in addition to it, that would suit for outings like this with Drake, should she choose to take the plunge. But did she dare--especially after the attack just a few days ago?

     She hadn't gotten as far as she had by letting fear rule her. Caution was wise. Fear was paralyzing--and that was not the life she wanted to lead. So she takes something from her closet that she had shown to nobody yet. It was a white bodysuit, with sky blue boots, gloves, and a sky blue mask for over her eyes and cheekbones in classic style. Sky blue lines streak from one arm to the other, across her chest and back, as well as down her hips and legs. It would prove excellent aerial camouflage in the daytime, at least, though she'd have to keep the black bodysuit for nighttime wear--/if/ it was ever necessary.

     Slipping into her new gear--mask and all--she's out her dorm window and in the air, winging her way towards Central Park, after having left a note in her dorm about stepping out for a bit. As always, she has her little brown leather bag with her. Don't ask how she's attached it. It's one of those bizarre questions best left unanswered, dear reader!

Volt has posed:
Volt expects her to show in civilian clothes. It's the quickest, and she's probably already wearing it. And he recalls their last outing, and how uncomfortable she'd been about being seen, or anything being traced. He can make do. Besides, she'd get to be the girl getting doted on by a superhero - that's a brag, isn't it?

Not getting a text back, he's settled fully into scanning the park. People haven't been foolish enough to commit any daring daylight muggings, and though he periodically catches dispatch calls, it continues to be taken care of. A few people approach to talk about who he is, who he's with, and what he can do. Small demonstrations are enough to delight; thin arcs of electricity running between spread fingers, that sensational buzz of ionic energy. It's been a positive experience insofar.

The lack of response from Shannon leads him to frequently glance up at the sky, however. If she were coming, that's how she'd do it.

Nightingale has posed:
     Bzzt. Bzzt.

     Shannon finds it difficult to resist pinging Drake's phone one more time when she's just about above and somewhat behind him, with the sun at her back shielding her mostly from view. A smile turns the corners of her lips upwards, and she's tapping out a message--finally.

     <<Watch your six 'o clock high>>

     Gloved fingers crossed, she hoped she was doing the right thing. But... would it bring him a smile?

Volt has posed:
There's a buzz again. Oh, was she just delayed? Volt retrieves the communicator to scan the message, and snickers. He taps a quick response.

<<My 6 high is a tree. :3 >>

Volt leans off the tree and steps forward, however, turning his visored eyes up at the canopy. He doesn't expect to see much, but the bright sun before him doesn't really do much to hinder his vision. The leaves, on the other hand, do.

Nightingale has posed:
     Well, frak. Shannon just shakes her head, laughing and tapping out another message. <<You sure know how to help a girl make an entrance. And here I was hoping to surprise you a litle bit.>> With that, the phone was put away in her little brown bag, the winged young woman descending, the sun shielding her less the more she loses altitude.

     "Smartaleck. Better?" She can't help a rueful smile at him. And she is most certainly /not/ in her civvies. Oh, no. She's in that white and blue bodysuit, with the blue mask on her face. Whoah.

Volt has posed:
Volt spots her on approach now that she's having to swoop low enough to not wind up in branches, but her new look definitely gets an appraising look. "Better. In a couple ways," he muses. "Somebody got a distinct look!" He paces around her, a grin edging the corners of his lips. "Stealin' my chevron style, though, huh?" He doesn't sound offended. He doesn't even expect she thought about it when she had it put together.

Nightingale has posed:
     "I most certainly did /not/ appropriate your style," Shannon replies, pretending to be in a huff. However, she can't help but do a little twirl as she lands near him, letting him get a good look at her new look, her eyes twinkling from within the mask surrounding them. "In point of fact, I was actually inspired by Tron." Formalities of style and inspiration aside, she wraps him up in a fierce hug if he allows it, smiling now. "Mugging for the cameras today?"

Volt has posed:
Volt can't help but smile back at her. She looks so pleased, even excited. And she should! Costuming is like the guilty pleasure of having a superheroic persona; being colorful, larger than life. "Tron? Really?," he teases, propping a fist to his hip and giving her a dubious smirk. But it's quickly defaulted to a laugh as his arms wrap around her in return, unabashedly hugging the girl. Superheroes embracing in full public view.

"C'mon, don't put it like that. I'm being a public presence. Letting'em see who the goodguys are ahead of time." And maybe doing a little social PR for the Titans. They've been dropping off the radar lately! "What'm I calling you?"

Nightingale has posed:
     Shannon chuckles softly, flicking her wings and settling them neatly behind her. "As long as it's not 'late for supper'," she teases. He might be doing social PR for the Titans, but she had no /public/ team to do such things for. As far as the rest of the world knew, she was very likely an independent agent, or at least, one with a few connections here and there! "Guess we can stick with 'Nightingale'. The name's already out there, just hope I've done it proud."

     Guilty pleasure or not, she takes the responsibilities of having gifts that normal humans don't, very seriously. Yet even that can't quite erase her smile for the moment. "Guess I'm more used to the element of surprise. You could say this side of things is..." Now she steps away, grinning impishly at him and holding her hands up in mock-defense. "...electrifying."

     Yes, she just went there.

Volt has posed:
"Gale," Volt truncates. "And that's so old, it isn't even a dad joke. That's a granddad joke. You should be embarrassed, you're supposed to be a living ideal or whatever!," he play-chastises.

When she leans back, he lets her slip his arms and allows them to hang at his side again. But what she says gets a meaningful cant of his head, eyebrows raised. "Really? Really." He spares a quick glance to the side to ensure no one is watching, and he reaches out to shove her on the shoulder gently. "Dork." A fond smile soon follows. "Anyway, skulking around is well and good. But I save that for actual missions." Turning aside, he resumes his 'post' in front of the tree trunk. A passing civilian gets an acknowledging smile and nod. "But that's why I have two different versions of the costume."

Nightingale has posed:
     "Old like a fine wine," Nightingale retorts, grinning impishly at him. But though he turns away, she doesn't budge. Nope. He can't get rid of her. She leans against the tree, her arms crossed lightly over her chest in a very casual sort of pose, watching as the passerby pause in their perambulations, to gawk and sometimes try to get a selfie with the rather dashing young man.

Volt has posed:
Volt scoffs. "If you're too young to have wine, you don't get to use that line," he teases. Shifting slightly, he side-hipbumps the girl.

"I like having you around, but are you sure this isn't boring to you? Most of the calls I've been picking up today are responded to immediately. I mean, that's good, but it doesn't make for a heartpounding thrill-ride."

Nightingale has posed:
     "Hey, I cook with the stuff sometimes, even if I don't drink it. So I can us that lne." Nightingale giggles, sticking her tongue out at him, hip-bumping him right back, very gently. "Volt... I've had 'heart-pounding thrill rides', and sometimes, trust me, having folks do their job so we don't have to isn't always such a bad thing."

Volt has posed:
Volt's gaze slants to her, a little deadpan, followed with a sigh. "If you think that's what I meant, you need to spend more time around me when I work." Looking ahead again, his expression has dimmed down with a frown. "I'm saying we don't want to give the impression that this is peacocking. That's the opposite of what we're shooting for. So while it's nice to not be needed, there comes a point where you either need to be needed, or you need to stay home. It's a balance."

Nightingale has posed:
     "Well, I certainly won't disagree with that," Nightingale replies, her smile turning rather soft as she glances sidelong at him. "There's a lot I have to learn, especially when it comes to being public. And I'm sorry if I gave a bad impression." She reaches over to touch Volt's shoulder gently, her smile growing a bit wider. "So, next time you're working, let me know. I think I'll definitely be learning from one of the best."

Volt has posed:
Volt looks back to her again, dourness fading. "I dunno. Just sometimes, I get the impression you don't think I'm smart. Or like I'm reckless, or something." He leans a little more into the tree, and his right hand raises to mess with the corner of his visor. He doesn't really have anything to fiddle with, as he's definitely not going to be activating the nightvision option in broad daylight. "Just bugs me. I dealt with that a lot before I became what I am."

Nightingale has posed:
     Nightingale just lofts her eyebrows, staring right at Volt. "I can't believe you just said that. You're smart. Way smarter than I will ever be. And you're not reckless. That would be me." She reaches out to squeeze his hand, smiling. "I'm sorry if I gave a bad impression. But you are not stupid, and you are not reckless."

Volt has posed:
Volt blinks at her, and a dubious look soon follows. Smarter than she'll ever be? Felt a bit disingenuous, but she's trying to smooth things over. He refuses to make a bigger deal out of it. Instead, he squeezes her hand in return and decides to change the subject.

"So what lead to this ensemble? You just get a pattern you like and decided to go for it?"

Nightingale has posed:
     Nightingale, however, is a little reluctant to let the subject go. She's upset him, made him feel less than he is, and that bothers her to no end. While she does reply to his question, her brows are furrowed with worry. "Yeah, I guess. Kind of took a cue from Tron: Legacy. Besides... I was kind of hoping you'd like it, too. Alright, maybe a bit more than 'kind of'."

Volt has posed:
Another glance is shot around their general vicinity, confirming they're alone, before those visored eyes return to the girl. "I love it. Y'look great in it. All the," his free hand lifts to wave vaguely, "smoothness. I mean, it's not topping some of your /other/ looks, but it's a solid one." He pauses to glance down at her legs, then back up to her face. "It's maybe better that I didn't design the outfit anyway," he concludes, allowing a coy smile to tug the corners of his lips.

Nightingale has posed:
     "Some of my other looks are for your eyes only." There's a faint smile upon Nightingale's lips, just enough to barely tug the corners of her mouth upwards. But her eyes are a little misty behind the mask. "Is there anything you would have done differently for the design?" Now there was a loaded question. And it was unlikely to be answered out in the open--or was it? "I tried to find a blend of form and function, but you've got more experience in this than I do."

Volt has posed:
Volt releases her hand and strolls away from her by a few paces. The hem of his cape brushes the very tips of the grass in his wake, only to softly rustle as he promptly about-faces to her. He /loves/ the topic of costuming, and it's written on is face. "If you're just looking for something practical, you're gonna wind up looking like a nun or something. But me? I believe that we train to be effective at stopping crime and thwarting evil, and we dress to be larger than life. See, you're a girl-," he pauses and blinks, "I mean, uh, obviously. But I'd dress you to lean into that."

His index finger bobs towards her legs.

"Those would go bare. Swimsuit-cut. Boots about... knee-high. Jury's out on the sleeves. But if you're wearing full gloves, maybe they'd go bare, too. So you have like a balanced skin-to-material ratio. But it really depends!"

Nightingale has posed:
     Nightingale's cheeks flame, and she chuckles a little bit. "Guess I've a lot to learn about costume design, too," she replies, now looking down at her bodysuit with something akin to distaste, whereas just a little while ago she had been quite proud of it. Still, she thought to herself, he /had/ seemed to like it. "Anything else?"

Volt has posed:
Volt considers, tilting his head to the side enough that a few bangs fall over. "Ahh, hm... Nightingale..," he repeats her codename thoughtfully. His gaze shifts to her wings, then her face, then her torso. "A belt could be cute, maybe. Something snug, with a wide buckle. Or maybe emblem. Ooh, a gem. Like an opal, or something. Or a moonstone. Nightingale, moonstone, I even think those are supposed to be like a 'healing' stone or something? I dunno jack about gemology!," he laughs.

Nightingale has posed:
     "Hmmm. I'm not sure about baring so much skin, but I like your idea about the belt." Nightingale smiles a little bit. "That's the one flaw about this design, there's not a lot of ways for me to carry things I might need. Plus, there's a few ways the buckle could be made both beautiful, and very functional as well." She just goes quiet again, though, watching as nearby, a little boy with an overly long, dark green beach towel tied around his neck like a flowing cape, is running about with his little sister, the pair giggling as he pretends to be Volt.

     "This isn't peacocking. It's hope. Look at that. It looks like play, but they know someone's out there looking out for them."

Volt has posed:
Volt follows her attention to the kids before looking back to the girl before him. "Yep, that's the idea. That's why I wear this version of the costume if I expect to be seen. I've heard that frigging Edna Mode line /so many times/ by other people in the business, but never by anyone who gets the point of wearing a cape."

"Anyway.."

Volt adopts a teasing smile. "You asked how I'd do your costume. That's how. Add a little more femininity to it, classic-style. Rawr."

Nightingale has posed:
     "I guess I could try a few different ideas and run them by you. Keep this version around, though. Like you said, have a few different versions for different situations." Nightingale was trying, she really was. But she couldn't quite forget what he said earlier. And it bothered her. But until he said something, she wouldn't. Plus, that teasing smile just had a way of getting her to smile right back, with the expression mostly reaching her eyes this time.

Volt has posed:
"You don't have to do things /my/ way," Volt assures. "That's just my path. I wanna be something the public can draw strength from. It-," he pauses, then moues his lips for a second. "-it sounds super cheesy, I know. But that's important to me. A lot of the modern types look at it so, like, pragmatically. If you ask me, though, they're only doing half the job."

He strolls a little further from her to a picnic table. He turns to lean back against the edge of the table, still focused on her. "I'm being preachy. That has to be annoying. Sorry."

Nightingale has posed:
     Nightingale shakes her head rather emphatically this time, smiling somewhat wider than before. "Trust me, I do get that, more than you know. Everyone's got their heroes. You want to be that compass point for people, something they can draw strength and direction from, and apply it to their own lives their own way. It's something I want, too--especially since I was lucky enough to have it myself when it was needed the most."

     She moves over to the picnic table, perching on the edge and leaning over to rest her head on his shoulder, if he allows it. "When I manifested, sure, my family was and is supportive and very loving, and even understanding to a point. But only to a point, because it's not something they experienced themselves. Yes, I had them to draw strength from. They will always be my #1 heroes. But... then there was Cap. He was someone whose example I could follow, someone who had been through a lot of the same things I had. And yes, very iconic, don't think anybody could ever dispute that." She chuckles a little. "And I see you working towards the same thing. Super cheesy? Fine, if that's super cheesy, then so be it, the world could use more of it."

     One arm and one wing wraps around Volt's shoulders if he allows it, drawing him in for a hug. "You're not being super preachy at all. You just feel very strongly about this, and trust me, that's something I can and do admire and appreciate."

Volt has posed:
Volt doesn't shrug her head away, nor does he refuse the hug. His arm loops her waist, squeezing her to his side in response. "Or we're both preachy," he sighs softly. His head tilts to brush against hers. "But I'm glad I found someone who gets it."

Just then, there's a communication; a shootout. Cops are currently overwhelmed.

Volt quickly, but carefully leans forward to not jostle her too much. "Time to go. You up for a little danger?," he asks.

Nightingale has posed:
     Nightingale smiles, and nods. "Let's go. Eyes in the sky, flyin' high." She steals a quick kiss from him, before stepping away and reaching for her bag. She removes her Bluetooth headset and hooks it over her ear. He'd be able to call her phone like an improvised comm system. Not the most secure, not the greatest there was, but it would do for the moment. Turning to jog into the wind, she spreads her wings and, with a few strong downstrokes, is airborne, spiraling higher into the sky.

     "Nightingale to Volt. Mind pointing me the right direction, as the crow flies....?"

     And so the call to duty begins....

Volt has posed:
Kissed!

Volt snickers, then watches her take off into the sky. "Showoff," he chides under his breath. Of course he's the slower traveler in a case like this. His mode of hastened travel is running rooftops and ziplining between them. But he's getting pretty good at it.

Volt sprints off for the park's exit, thinking to himself that it's /probably/ about time for him to get a legitimate vehicle or something. But that's something to worry about down the line. Right? Speaking of lines, he plucks a device from his belt and aims it ahead at an elevated angle. The end launches, clamping into place at the corner of the building, and he's zipped off his feet, cape a-flutter.

Whoosh~