2958/Rainbow in the Dark

Rainbow in the Dark
Date of Scene:	10 October 2017
Location:	Gotham City
Synopsis:	May goes to speak with the Batman in Gotham. Castiel invites himself along.
Cast of Characters:	Batman, Melinda May, Castiel

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Batman has posed:
    The email had popped up to the anonymous email account yesterday in the evening. There was no meat to it. No content beyond a single line containing an address and a time. The first time it had come through this way, normally the owner of the account would send a time and place of her own and await a blank mail back that would be enough of an acceptance. So tonight, at the height of the evening with the moon hanging low in the sky and the Autumn clouds casting a haze across the sky, the appointed time came to pass.
    The location of the meet was the rooftop of an old apartment building that had been condemned only a few weeks ago for illegal construction and over population. Demolition was already planned for Tuesday of next week and the place was empty for now. Atop the roof there was little cover, just a single rusted industrial air conditioner and a mass of ragged gravel scattered across the tar paper.
    The appointed time arrived and should the person who received the email be there... they'll be left to wait and to their own devices.

Melinda May has posed:
It's a long-ingrained habit to arrive anywhere with more than enough time to scope out potential sniper perches, ambush points, escape routes, and all of those other things a SHIELD agent usually checks for. Now, though, she's waiting in the shadow of that nasty old HVAC -- and NOT touching it -- for her contact to appear.

This kind of meeting is something that happens at least somewhat regularly, if not frequently. And yes, every single time, her contact makes her wait. She's gotten used to it by now.

Castiel has posed:
    It's elsewhere: the man in his oversized trenchcoat, shoulders shrugged in a forward hunch, leaving further depths for his hands, balled as they are, and shoved deep within his pockets. Against his knuckles, there's a hard brush of plastic. And as it's happened over the past few days - with growing and alarming frequency, the thing vibrates. Worse - it sends off a cacophany of sound that seems to have no rhyme or reason to it. The viewing port only saying: Unknown caller.
    What Castiel remembers is that she said she would show him how to use this thing, this annoying bit of technology she'd slapped into his hand and called a phone, telling him to use it instead of merely *popping* in on people unnanounced. The minor point of contention being that they'd not covered that small technicality. And now he was stuck with a phone he not only could not use, but one that seemed possessed and determined to cause him no end of annoyance.
    The irony, of course, was lost upon him.

Batman has posed:
    It's only a little short of four minutes that she has to wait. Just long enough for the sight lines to be cleared, for the likely sniper nests to be observed, and for her to get settled. It's once she might seem to be ready to settle in for a long wait that the rough voice is heard, the dark silhouette apparently having appeared somehow just out of the line of sight of the operative.
    "Agent May." Dark, tall, just a cowl with a cape draped over the form of a man, hiding any hints of anatomy save for the strong jawline and grim expression. He steps forwards from the shadows, just enough for the sliver of moonlight to limn his outline.
    A moment is given for her to turn, to gauge and acclimate herself to the situation. Then, as is his way, straight to business. "My people may call on you."

Melinda May has posed:
Without appearing to be in any way startled, May turns to look at the caped and cowled figure that has addreesed her. "In regards to what?" She doesn't bother to question the lack of intel aloud. Either the vigilante will explain, or he won't. Usually, he won't. She's learned to deal with that as well. And, of course, studying the figure for visual clues is all but completely pointless.

"The usual contact routes, or will I need to secure a phone?" Inwardly, she's not really looking forward to having to hightail it to Gotham repeatedly. The commute is a pain in the rear.

Castiel has posed:
    The first time it had happened, Castiel had been startled. Of all things arcane and otherwise of realms not mortal that he knew, this tiny bit of human trivia was not one he was prepared for. His pocket a buzz against his fists and thigh where the offending thing sat in his pocket, only to become an insistant jar of sound once he'd pulled it out to stare at the thing.
    For a moment, a brief and irritated moment, Castiel contemplated throwing the thing into a waste basket (he'd learned those were used to dispose of unwanted objects), or leaving it conveniently behind.
    What had stopped him was knowing that Agent May - Mom (though he was not fully cognizant of the vernacular of that, or why she had earned the title) - would merely scold and give him another. She was not, he had obserrved to himself, one he wanted to be scolded by. A thing she might take pride in if she knew: An angel of the Lord, oft times to recipient of the displeasure of those who ranked above him in the Seraphim, unwilling to stand in the face of her sharp tongue.
    However, the thing did not stop with the once. And never was it with any of the names she said it held. Not Dean. Not Sam. Not herself.
    And now? It was making that noise again. Three times in a row, only to brazenly tell him: Unknown Caller.
    He wanted it to stop. Or, at the very least, he felt Agent May should be delivered the offending thing.. The phone quivering in the palm of his hand now as he stares at it, watching it continue to tell him some stranger wished his attention.

Batman has posed:
    The tall man turns to tilt his head slightly, letting his gaze slide over their surroundings before he looks back to the agent of SHIELD. Still unmoving for the most part, still quiet save for the words given, he tells her levelly. "They'll find you. How they approach you is up to them."
    There's a faint crunch of gravel as he shifts to the side, turning and starting to walk away. His footsteps are quiet as he moves, the cape flaring behind him for a moment before settling once again wrapped around his shoulders. But then there's a pause, a small hesitation as he turns his head to say over his shoulder, perhaps feeling he owes May a little more than that, "They're assigned to train with others. You are an option for them. If they call on you, that is most likely what they'll inquire about."

Melinda May has posed:
"Fair enough." She's already aware of the man's refusal to resort to lethal measures, and fully expects that anyone he's assigned to contact her for training will be under the same limitation. That's fine. She's got lots of other skills she can teach.

"Is there a particular specialization you might want them to focus on?" Because really, melee is no problem ever. But disarming bombs, that might take a bit more time and preparation.

Castiel has posed:
    Four times.
    Now it was four. And whether she intended him to use it or not, Castiel was no longer entertaining the nicities of human interaction in this regard. Luckily, Agent May was one he kept tabs on, though in the realms of those he watched, she was on the seemingly less likely to get herself possessed or killed end of the spectrum, his tabs a cursory check that she was still, indeed, breathing.
    One moment he was in an alley mouth, staring at the hateful thing in his palm -- the next, he's nothing more than an appearance beside the woman. His arm out-thrust at her, the phone - the last of its rings shrill in the air between them - demanding she take it away:
    "It will not stop. It does not do what you said." His voice an annoyed gravel of sound as he adds, "I do not know an Unknown Caller."

Batman has posed:
    "Martial arts," Batman's response is clean, succinct. He holds up a gauntlet as if to stay any further queries but then the moment is ended when Castiel makes his appearance. The man is unremarkable, seemingly, but his manner of appearance is abrupt and with little fanfare. It causes the Dark Knight to turn quickly, his expression slipping more to the grim as he lifts his head to observe the surrounding buildings.
    Then he turns back around, cape snapping with the turn as he levels his attention on the two of them. "Agent May?" As if she might need his aid for whatever reason, his hands disappearing into the darkness of his cloak.

Melinda May has posed:
So, apparently the Bat appearing near her is no big deal. But a rumpled-looking man who is irritated at a cell phone is enough to make her visibly startle. But that is the extent of her reaction, well, besides looking at the man slightly more flatly than is her usual.

When Batman queries the man's presence with her name, she takes the phone from his hand and silences it with a single almost unconscious button press. "Batman, this is Castiel. Castiel, the Batman."

Now please don't start battling on this rooftop over a stupid PHONE.

Castiel has posed:
    Castiel does not relent, his hand still holding the offending phone out to Agent May, though it has, at least for the moment, given up its attempts to connect the angel with what is, no doubt, some congratulatory spiel on how he's won a timeshare in Florida, or worse, the dreaded drunken call of some handsy bar patron thinking he was calling that tall blonde who'd given him some random number instead of her own just to shut him up.
    For what it's worth, Castiel does not startle at the fact that May has a guest. She'd shown no signs of duress that he could gauge, so any others with her must have been allowed. He does, however, turn his scowl upon the caped crusader to take him in with a sweep of his blue-eyed gaze, observing, "The Batman? Were the other flying mammals taken?"

Batman has posed:
    Behind the mask an eyebrow quirks as he looks between them, expression shifting from one to something akin to a man succumbing to tedium. He turns his head towards May and tells her, "If something comes up, you know how to contact me." It's with that comment from the man with the growl in his voice that he turns again. His footsteps carry him towards the edge of the rooftop, hands slipping back beneath the curve of the cowl even as he moves. After a moment he turns his head upwards, as if listening for something, then he seems to give a nod absently. Another step and he drops off into the chasm between the tall buildings, slipping from view.

Melinda May has posed:
May sighs. Yes, she actually honest to goodness sighs this time. The Batman is gone, but Castiel is here, and it sounds like his phone is being a pain in the ass. "All right. It occurred to me after you left that I never showed you how to use that thing. Also, that you're going to need a charger." She gestures for the man to accompany her as she steps toward the low retaining wall at the edge of the building's rooftop.

Cellphone 101. Lesson begins now.

Melinda May has posed:
There are always people walking back and forth in the park, so people walking past can't be surprising. However, one woman -- Asian and wearing fairly non-descript clothing -- stops just short of the bench Karen has claimed.

"Ms. Page." The quasi-greeting has absolutely zero hint of question to it, as if she's stating the woman's name, not asking.