14671/One day, Over the Phone..

One day, Over the Phone..
Date of Scene:	21 January 2023
Location:	Over the phone line
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Arana, Black Canary

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Arana has posed:
"I'm free, what's up?" Anya sits down at a table in the field, her celphone at her ear. "You sound like you're having fun. Selling flowers?" She pauses, listening. "Very energetically selling flowers?"

She puts her pencil in her teeth, pulling out her textbook. "Mm at fkool, hab home-ork." She's got a Sprite and a bagel, which her father did not put in her lunch.

Dinah, however, is doing...

Black Canary has posed:
"Well, I guess flowers are involved?" Dinah says into her flip phone as the wall next to her sprouts a pair of shuriken. The concrete wall next to her. Sprouts a pair of shuriken.

She covers the mouthpiece of her phone (badly) and, both hands engaged now in managing the phone, resorts to a high kick between two black-clad, hooded heads to knock two assailants to the ground as her powerful thighs fuel a boot to ludicrous speeds. To the third one of her assailants, now feeling very naked and alone in the face of the blonde firebrand, she adds, "Listen, I've got to take this. Would you mind holding off a bit?"

She returns to the phone, feigning as if putting all her attention into it.

"But I'm not exactly selling anything at the moment."

Besides baddassery.

Arana has posed:
Anya jots down a note from class into her book. "I don't want to be in the way. Just going to run a bit late tonight, I have to get a few things from the library. It's a war in there right now, got midterms coming up." Yep, entirely like a war, needing to get access to books before other students.

She cocks her head then, pausing. "Are you with somebody? I can get you back later." She pauses, as a couple of people even younger than her bang into her and spill something on her back. "Gah! What the hell, was that ice? Say you're sorry at least!"

Horrible, but not badassery. Sad.

Black Canary has posed:
While Anya talks, the last assailant tries to take down Canary by surprise, knife flashing forward at the 'distracted' vigilante.

Who was waiting exactly for that.

A snap kick to the knife wrist sends the blade scuttering across the warehouse floor until it slips under a pallet. This would be bad for the assailant had he been of the sort who had to go after the weapon. Sadly he is no longer that sort.

He's the unconscious sort as the hand Canary was using to cover the mouthpiece (badly) gets unleashed in a set of rapidfire blows starting at the solar plexus and working its way up into a (now-)smashed nose. A swift sweep of the other leg knocks the leg out from underneath her dance partner and the satisfying coconut sound of a head hitting the floor is clearly audible over the phone.

Someone's going to need first aid for concussion. Stat.

"Nah," Canary says, voice casual, though skilled ears would pick up the signs of suppressed heavy breathing. "Not with anybody. Anymore."

Arana has posed:
Anya can be heard making her own noises a moment, but she returns in time for the punchyfist. She pauses, then says, "Did yours say they were sorry? Mine got away." She shakes an ice cube out of her shirt, saying something rude under her breath, then sits down properly.

My player needs to learn some Spanish, damnit.

"So, you're either making dinner or that was someone having a very bad day. And I'm here stuck between classes. How am I supposed to focus on the effects of public opinion on journalism now?" She twiddles her pencil between her fingers, looking off into space.

"I might as well toss the afternoon."

Black Canary has posed:
Does silently collapsing into an unconscious heap count as an apology? Does the light moaning of the two previous kick victims count? Dinah decides it does.

"Yeah, they apologized for interrupting my work." Dinah looks around the warehouse she'd infiltrated and starts the hard job of single-handedly using her zip ties to hogtie the trio.

In 'human centipede' formation. She's a bit pissed.

While she does so, she continues talking, though the occasional grunt of effort leaks into her speech.

"Don't skip classes. Your brain is as important as your body in training. Learning to focus under any circumstance is a vital skill, whether for academics or for combat."

Arana has posed:
"I don't want to focus. I want to be throwing kicks. Hyeah!" She pauses, then says, "Sorry cabron. Didn't see you there." That wasn't said to Dinah. She's back though. "Delightful. Now I'm a border bunny, yay me. Sorry. Better than last week, I'm collecting all the racial slurs."

She quickly writes down some more notes, which sounds exactly like breathing apparently. "Would you say that the press makes your job easier or harder? Be honest, it's for a paper." She puts a few more toothmarks on her pencil, thinking what to write.

Black Canary has posed:
"Press is a mixed bag," Dinah says after completing the immobilization (and humiliation) of her victims and concealing them behind some boxes in a cul de sac that has a cozy little spot where some removed containers keep them from casual view.

"But overall it makes my job harder. But better. People like me need checks on what we do. We need feedback from public institutions that aren't the government. Yes, it hurts to see your risking your life being dismissed or criticized, but you have to see past the sensationalism to the very real and very valid critiques that are often buried into them."

Canary gains altitude, causing a pause in her monologue as grunts of effort from her climb to the top of the shelving units get her out of line of sight should anybody else stumble upon her.

"So in the long run the press helps, I think, even if in the short term I often want to punch reporters in their smarmy faces."

Arana has posed:
"My dad is the official reporter to the Fantastic Four," Anya says from her side of the phone. When Dinah is in a position to talk again, not climbing. She knows the drill. Ex-spider after all. She's done her share of climbing. "He raised me to do it respectfully, but I'm getting a lot of info here that..hang on."

She jots down what Dinah said, word for word. No editing. "Got it."

Then, nodding, she continues. "My teacher says that we have to edit ourselves. I kinda like him, he's apparently a logger who got roped into teaching. Weird guy. Anyway, he says that if we don't edit ourselves we can't post anything, and that doesn't keep the job. But the trick is, like you said. Learn how to put the story in somehow without compromising the person paying the bills."

She stops, thinking a moment. "I wonder if my dad has to put up with that. He does a lot of crime reporting."

Black Canary has posed:
"So you're not skiving class then?" Dinah asks, adding as if an affirmative was obvious. "Good. 'Cause reporters are the best place to be for finding out about trouble before most people and getting in to fix it."

From the tops of shelves, Dinah swiftly crosses the warehouse, spotting what looks like she was after from her vantage point. A small spy camera pops into her hands and full 8K video in a wide spectrum of electromagnetic radiation starts to fill the 128GB TF card.

Alpha Flight will need this information stat.

"Sometimes I wish I'd had the brains to be a reporter instead of just someone who enjoys bashing people's faces in for justice."

Arana has posed:
"FOR JUSTICE!" Anya says, a bit too loudly. She gets some looks from people nearby, then shrugs and continues her phone call and homework. Not the strangest thing a teen has said in the quad this afternoon.

"Not skiving, no. Whatever that means." She shifts her phone to the other ear, then starts copying down reference numbers from the information she intends to include in her paper. "Think it'd look good if I put your name down as a source? Probably not, I'd have to prove it to get credit. Hrm." Then she goes quiet for a moment. "Scuse me a sec."

Then you can hear on the other end, she's yelling at someone. Something about 'leave that girl alone! Yeah, I'm talking to you!'

Chip off the old block. Even if she is going to get punched in the face with that attitude.