15702/A mortal stealing from the elements
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|A mortal stealing from the elements|
|Date of Scene:||12 October 2023|
|Location:||On the roof of a tall building|
|Synopsis:||Some wisdom from above comes upon Harper while she goes about recharging a lot of gadgets and gear with a thunderstorm going on. Meeting Storm in a Storm is a treat.|
|Cast of Characters:||Bluebird, Storm
- Bluebird has posed:
Nature is putting on a light show. One of the worst places to be for most mortals would be the lightning rod of a skyscraper. For a clever girl, Harper Row isn't exactly showing a lot of wisdom tonight during all this thunder and lightning.
Dressed up as Bluebird has helped hide her identity and hopefully insulate her from random chance coming down from the heavens. It's not perfect, but some precautions are better than none. It's just pissing down though, and the water cascading down the lenses of her mask makes her wonder why she's never installed wipers. "Tomorrow, I'm taking you into the shower." she murmers, half-bent over the clasp she carefully tightens between the electrical extension. Harper licks at the rainwater running down her lips, sucking in a little extra hydration around the cherry lollipop coating her tongue and making her sound like she's doing a cowgirl drawl. Or perhaps closer would be a Bostonian accent. Her hair hangs lank and sodden, her jacket glossy and wet, but truth be told she's absolutely drenched.
The cables snake towards the couplers that are clasped around the antennas and lightning rods meant to attract lightning strikes and channel them harmlessly towards the ground floor. The cheeky vigilante determined to power her substantial batteries and McGuyvered gear since coming to this city and living out of a crappy van. She's a long way from Gotham.
There have been near misses, her timing of hooking up all this cabling to her half a dozen individual pieces of gear depended upon a lightning strike ~not~ happening while in the middle of hooking up. Every once in awhile there's a zing and a tingle all the way up her arms from a near miss. "Oooo!" A hiss and a yelp and then an almost mad giggle at her risking damage to her nervous system. "Not today Satan!"
- Storm has posed:
While she may be present for the raw fury of nature unleashed, it is not /actually/ a storm summoned by Ororo Munroe in her guise as weather goddess. But sometimes, when one of these heavy storms hits, she can't fight off the urge to relish the unique perceptions she has and bask in the raw fury and thrilling excitement.
Which, really, isn't a typical reaction to a storm of near biblical proportions for /other/ people who can't slowdance through a blizzard or stroll in a hurricane. Indeed, as lightning strikes and thunder rolls, Ororo's unique perceptions let her bask in the display like no one else.
Which also helps her notice things others might not... like when someone's hooking up the mother of all lightning rods to attract the fury of nature to charge their homemade impressive vigilante gear.
It's not like Ororo really /intended/ to sneak up on Harper, but when you're flying silently through a thunder storm in a dark outfit, a slick and clinging one-piece that practically acts as a swimsuit, matching sleek and slick boots that cling to legs up to mid-thigh like liquid latex... well, it's easy to not be noticed.
At least until she's sure Harper's done making her connections. Arms cross over her full chest sternly, her accented voice chiming out, loud and clear... the kind of voice that a teacher has that can seemingly be heard over no small amount of havoc. "Are you sure you tightened that last one down enough? I'd /truly/ hate for a creative young mind to be blown up by..." She frowns thoughtfully, eyes sweeping around, "Welll.... /whatever/ all this is. You're not a mad scientist out to animate a being made of random bodyparts are you?"
- Bluebird has posed:
Harper is still hunched over when the voice comes through, piercing thunder and rain. She turns her head, crouching like a gremlin on the wing of a plane. The expression that she has on her face is a kid with their hands in the cookie jar. Caught in the act of her five-antenna-discount of nature's fury, she will sleep soundly if she never knows just how derpy or dorky she appears. That changes into a more sheepish, half-grin, half-grimace and she starts to rise to both feet, fingers curling and uncurling. "Gawd I hope so." she tries, and rubs the underside of her nose of the tickle of water droplets.
A quick whip of her head to eyeball each of the devices spaghetti'd to the lightning rods before turning back to the Goddess of Storms. She holds out her hands, fanning the fingers. Kind of doing a bit of jazz hands. "Not a baddie! Swear! I swear on the life of my limited edition DS! But..." Oh my god, yes, this ~could~ be some sort of Frankenstein set up. If she was better prepared, maybe those drones over there could be part of...Stop. With a sharp intake of breath she reorganized her thoughts.
"Not tonight! Rifles, clips, EMP satchel and drones only." She sniffs, somewhat proud of her homebrewed gear and takes a step backwards. The door to the stairs is in that direction after all. And Storm, holy shit that's Storm, is in the flesh and freakin levitating. "Jebus...that's really you. I know you. Everybody knows you. You can ride the lightning and make it your bitch..."
- Storm has posed:
It's not like Ororo's /not/ trying to cut an imposing figure, but she's at least trying to... moderate it. One arm is crossed over her chest, the other lifting so splayed fingers can run through that thick mane of white hair... not spiked up at all, but sweeping it back so the sides of her shaved scalp are evident as her lips quirk in an almost kindly, half amused little grin as the blue haired girl she's looking over turns and rises. Ororo joins in eying each of those connections, lips quirking slightly.
She's no engineer, hell, she hooked her DVD player up in her loft years ago and that's about all she knows about cabling.
She grins all the wider, ivory teeth gleaming as the girl begins that rapidfire assurance she's not a baddie. Ororo descends smoothly until the toes of her boots touch the ground and she can take a few steps forward once she's landed properly, one eyebrow perking as she looks Harper over again. "Okay, so /not/ a baddie, but that's... a fair bit of hardware... and don't worry, I will not tell the electrical company you are harnessing nature's power instead of paying them for some sort of high voltage hookup." She lets out a low, truly impressed whistle as she closes in, "Well! That's... okay, I know a few people who'd be even more impressed at that than me, because they'd know enough to know exactly how impressive all that gear is..." She tilts her head and murmurs softly, "I'm sure a certain big blue furball would be gobsmacked. I imagine he'd use that /exact/ term even."
She glances sidelong and grins a little wider, eyebrow arching high, "I believe the /polite/ term is 'control the weather', but... I mean, you do you. Making it my bitch does sound a lot more intimidating."
Eyes narrow slightly and she laughs softly, "And who might you be? I don't see any spider-motifs on your stuff, so clearly not a Spider-Person..."
- Bluebird has posed:
Harper unnecessarily takes another step backwards to give Ororo more room to land. Harper straightens her spine a bit more, feeling like she's continuously slouching. The boom of thunder above makes her jerk and fidget as she steps amongst her cables laying like ribbed snakes and eels upon the drenched rooftop. With Storm enunciating certain words, it gives Bluebird a little bit of a jolt and thrill for certain undignified words to pass those lips. Harper's mouth quirks into a grin.
Bluebird's gloved hand comes up and rakes through her own hair, as if to mirror the more elegant gesture she saw. The rubber palm and fingertips drag over her wet hair and scalp, tugging lightly. "Bluebird. I've flown quite a ways from my usual roost." Harper's half-masked face turns up to the falling rain. "You'd think a girl from Gotham would be used to a downpour, but I feel like a drowned rat to be honest. But ayyyye, where-you-gonna-get-juice if not from the source? Certainly can't from a sunny day amiri..." she trails off. Her brain hiccups.
"I mean ~Solar~ power sure, but you know how long it'd take to power a railgun from a hot black absorbitive panel...I mean...I mean..." she shakes her head, calculating, stammering. Her hands make some gestures, some almost rude looking as opposing fingers and thumbs make little holes, flick imaginary abacus', calculators. She sneezes. "Gawd sorry...Goddess sorry." she adds sheepishly.
- Storm has posed:
There's a little grin from Ororo when Harper steps back, "Oh, no no, don't worry. No need to back up, if anyone's the intruder here it's me." She's got that gaze /locked/ on Harper, somewhere between capricious embodiment of the storm, and kind and caring teacher, such a contradiction she is as she quirks an eyebrow and murmurs dryly, "Mind you, I might recommend if you're going to do this on a regular basis that you purchase an umbrella. You look a little... wet."
She nods her head, "Well, it's nice to meet you, Bluebird. Even if it's a little... novel. I don't meet too many people /out/ in storms like this, it's usually why I sneak off to relax in them. Just me and the wide open sky and winds." She snickers and bobs her head, "Gotham /does/ love its rain, so no wonder you're handling this better than most. City's got a pretty good punk and industrial scene too. If you can keep track of where the clubs keep moving around. Hard to do from upstate New York but I try to sneak down time to time." She narrows her eyes at that sneeze and grins wider, "Bless you. So... will they explode if they charge up and you're not here to unplug them? Because I feel like we should get you out of the rain if it's not /definitely/ necessary that you be standing out here in the open."
- Bluebird has posed:
Harper's eyes would light up if they weren't somewhat opaque with her lenses. But there's that body language. Tomboy exhuberance and that vibe of waiting impatiently in line to get ~into~ one of those mentioned hotspots in the city. She literally steps from foot to foot like she's got ants in her pants. Or that particularly close bolt of lightning put the fear of life and death into her. She's all jazzed up talking to the physical embodiment of a Storm Goddess.
"They need some time to cook. I swear I've got limiters. I've got breakers. I've got literal mechanisms..." And here she pantomimes her clawed hands suddenly blowing apart, disconnecting from the temporary finger-links. "...Come apart if and when she gobble up too much juice. To be honest I think they'll need a few hours." Harper purses her lips and fights an urge to sneeze again. Water has found its was into her suit and as form-fitting as it is, it's not perfect.
"Could you tell me more about these places? I need those kinds of places." She has noticed how well Ororo wears her hair, carries herself, and an experienced opinion on where to go, what to avoid, would save her time. Plus some minor fangirling. "I love storms and stuff, but I'd love more if you tell me more anywhere. Like if it's better we chat elsewhere, I'm down with that. Totally. I'd appreciate it if you don't mind. Gawd, I neeeeeeed ways to decompress and unwind or my brain tries to turn on me. You'd be doing me a major favour."
- Storm has posed:
Ororo nods solemnly and grins, giving a wild shake of her head, hair obscuring her face for a moment until she wrings it back out and sweeps it out of her face again, eyes glinting as she sighs out. "Okay! Let's get somewhere warm to chat and relax. Trust me, I know all about easing up youthful tensions. Comes with my day job..." She practically /stalks/ in, arm suddenly looping around Harper's shorter figure, capturing her shoulders and drawing her in close. "Let's go, Bluebird. You just let the famous and wonderful Storm help you learn all about Gotham's roaming industrial music clubs... well, okay, as much as I can remember. Don't worry, if I run out of fun facts about that I can talk about all sorts of things!"
She pauses for a moment, lips quirking before she laughs a low, throaty laugh, "Ah! Actually I've got just the idea where we can warm up and dry out. Maybe get a drink."
And just like that, she's sweeping Harper off towards the stairway access on the roof... offering to fly her to the street level seems like it might be a /bit/ much to go with. Plus things are slippery and Ororo hasn't got telekinesis to catch her passenger if things go wrong.