4053/Welcoming Party

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Welcoming Party
Date of Scene: 13 March 2018
Location: Unknown
Synopsis: Summary needed
Cast of Characters: Angela, Nuala Duvall




Angela has posed:
    After her arrival on Midgard and the run-in with Asgardians, Angela retires to familiar terrain. In this case that's Central Park. The woman doesn't need to sleep, but she does keep vigil just off one of the many trails. She sits cross-legged under a tree, shrouded in her long, white, hooded cloak. The large broadsword rests on the grass before her, placed deliberately cross-ways as if in ritual fashion.

    She was visited only by a mugger during the night. After a brief conversation, the man now owes the wingless angel a debt for sparing his life. Nothing for Nothing.

Nuala Duvall has posed:
    Dawn's first light brings Nuala. Her ship is cloaked to the naked eye, which is for the interest of all the New York City citizens who don't need to know that a Halal class Interceptor is cruising around the city.
    Nuala has been tracking the location of the upset during the night, and after some analysis of the news story and visit to the scene, she started scouring the area. So many human signatures are close to Asgardians, it takes a little detail to distinguish them. Finally, she isolated the signal, and she gets up from her seat, grabbing her mug of coffee, one of the things that Earth has invented that she quite likes. She chugs the luke warm caffeine like water, finishing it off, and places it on the console before stepping into her shell suit, which closes around her. She deactivates her artificial mental barrier, and closes the helmet. "Should not be violent, but after last time..." she comments to herself in Xandarian.
    She opens the landing ramp, ship hovering invisibly in the air, and jumps down, leaving a thick pair of footprints as her heavy armor lands in the grass. She starts walking in the direction of Angela cautiously, but her arms stay at her sides.

Angela has posed:
    Angela isn't blessed with superior senses or anything, at least not unless she's actively tracking quarry. She is comfortable and she is warm enough, content just to watch the sun rise through the trees. All the same, the sound of heavy armor landing certainly catches her attention. When the walking suit gets close enough she calls out in a loud, clear voice. "You are not of this realm. Stop and state your purpose here, or be destroyed. I will not offer this again."

Nuala Duvall has posed:
    Nuala stops as requested. "Nova Corps. Assigned to Earth to prevent hostile parasitic infestations." Her accent is Xandarian, and it seems clear that English is not her first language. "I am not here for combat," she announces. "Now I need you to be of state your name and reason for visit to Earth," she continues, apparently her grammar isn't the best.

Angela has posed:
    "I am not a parasite." Angela declares simply. "I am Angela, Hunt-Mistress of the Realm of Heven and my reasons for being here are my own. Whether or not I am hostile all depends on you." Her eyes narrow a touch beneath the hood, but at least the redhead hasn't reached for the broadsword. "I know something of the Nova Corps. Will you thwart me?"

Nuala Duvall has posed:
    Nuala pauses, as if not certain what to answer. She asks Timmy to translate quietly in the suit. "What is thwart?" Her faithful A.I. companion answers, "Archaic form of stop, disable, conquer." "Right."
    "No, I am not here to thwart you," she says, rolling her mouth around the word. Nuala puts her hands out to her sides to indicate that she is not seeking to fight. "I am from Halal branch, I am not an enforcer. There are enough people on Earth that seem to be happy to remove outsiders without my help. I will need to be reporting that you arrived." The helmet retracts, exposing her head. "I am Nuala Duvall," she introduces herself, long auburn hair tied behind her head in a french braid. She looks much more human than Xandarian, and her name is certainly not Xandarian.
    "I can see you are not a parasite. Would you be willing to allow yourself to be scanned so that I can be assured that none have arrived with you against your intent?"

Angela has posed:
    Angela seems either pleased or disappointed that no thwarting will be attempted, and she responds with a simple nod. The helmet retracts and she tilts her head, regarding the woman in the suit before her. "I have been scanned before, Lady Nuala. It was not objectionable."

    Picking up the broadsword, she stands and clips the scabbard onto the wide belt she wears. There isn't much in the way of clothing or armor beneath the cloak, but the cold doesn't seem to bother her. Drawing up to full height, the warrior stands easily six foot two. "So you are a scout, then?"

Nuala Duvall has posed:
    Nuala glances down at a display that seems to be in the collar of the suit, and the scanning commences. Likely she could have done it without even informing Angela if her helmet was still on, and it would have not been even noticable. "You are clean," she says after a moment. That was easy.
    "I am...a gatekeeper, I thing the word is?" she answers the question. Aliens are not supposed to arrive on Earth, Halal determined that it would be best to have someone here to stop infestations from occurring. We are a specialty force, specifically to fight parasitic enemies. Since I am the only human among the ranks, it became my job to be here."

Angela has posed:
    Angela lets her gaze wander briefly along the golden armor covering her legs and arms before nodding in agreement. No smudges. Yes, it's clean. "You are human, not Xandarian? I did not think the Nova Corps accepted non-Xandarians into their ranks." she offers coolly. "What will you do now, Lady Nuala? You will not thwart me, but you said you will report my presence here. Know that I will not respond favorably to violence."

Nuala Duvall has posed:
    Nuala's sense of Angela's thoughts cause a mild look of surprise to shadow her face ever so briefly, and she seems to miss a step mentally. "What will I do?" she echoes. "I suppose that I will welcome you to Earth," she says, "I am new to Earth as well," she comments, "It is a long story of how I became a member of Nova Corps. I do not think they will send anyone to enforce the standard, because they would have to break it themselves. They let the earthlings deal with these problems, so as long as you keep your head down, you will likely be fine."

Angela has posed:
    "Midgardians, Humans. They both mean the same." Angela offers in a softer voice. "But yes. You are also Human, so it is fitting that you should be here. You are not... alien. As I am to these people. This is your home and yet you are new here." Angela pauses for a moment. "I am not accustomed to 'keeping my head down'. My home... and the Nova Corps are quite a distance away. What can I expect here?"

Nuala Duvall has posed:
    "Everything is a long distance for me, I don't know that human is more than a word to me," Nuala offers with a smirk. "I do not worry about it much anymore." A lie, but it's easier to think that way than face the monster in her mind. "People are very curious on Earth," she comments. "I am not a very good expert. Some of them seem to be humans, but do not like the word human, so be careful using the word. I do not understand the politics about it, you may offend someone." She looks out at the city skyscrapers. "The cultures of earth seem to be very diverse, but in the city, people like to concern themselves with very unimportant things." She glances back at her invisible ship, and chews her lower lip. "I may not be a good source of information from an Earth perspective, but from an outside looking in person, we may think more alike about them. It is not proper protocol for me to take people on my ship, but... perhaps it would be good if you were able to view the city and learn the layout, and my ship would be a good way to be doing such a thing."

Angela has posed:
    Angela nods to that. "Not Human; Midgardian, then." she declares. "I did a brief recon before landing here. I am quite capable of flight without a ship." Interstellar flight as well, apparently. "But what do you mean by 'learn the layout' of the city? I have already assessed possible threats and opportunities. Is there something more that I should be concerned with?" It's not a 'no' as much as a question of the need.

Nuala Duvall has posed:
    "I..." Nuala doesn't seem to know exactly how to respond. "I thought it would be a nice thing to do. Earth is a strange planet, but there are some pleasant things to enjoy as well. Like coffee. It is a very good drink, earthlings use it in the morning very often." She seems a little awkward with her offer, as if it is outside her norm, but her demeanor is genuine. "You may find it is hard to engage people here about topics relating outside of earth, I have to be very quiet about them, it is sometimes exhausting."

Angela has posed:
    Angela isn't exactly the most empathetic of beings, but she -can- make a few interpretations. "Coffee." she repeats, testing the word. "Yes, Quill is fond of coffee. As is the raccoon. But you wish to speak with someone else who is not Midgardian. I can accept that. And in return you will show me things about this planet from within your ship. That is an acceptable trade to me."

Nuala Duvall has posed:
    Nuala nods, happy to treat the exchange as a trade, it is easier to her. She motions back to her ship. "Here, I will show." She starts walking back to her ship, the heavy armor crushing the ground as she goes. The ship ramp lowers, revealing the interior of the vessel as it lowers to the ground. Nuala steps up the ramp into what is her home. It seems to be a cross between a military and research vessel, given the various stations inside. An analyses of a piece of vegetation is up on one screen, the sample inside a tube that is installed on the side of the station. An armory is across from this, with a stand that Nuala currently backs into. Her armor suddenly opens, retracting and assigning itself to its stand along the wall, leaving her much more normal of a human height as she steps out, and wearing a far sleeker gray armor which fits her form, a purple pulse streaks through the interior armor along thin lines. She moves toward the cockpit, which has in fact two seats. "This is the Sea Song," she introduces the ship. A very midgardian type of title. "Feel free to sit," she offers, motioning to the seat.

Angela has posed:
    Angela pads along behind her, pulling back the hood to reveal the golden, winged headdress she wears. Walking up the ramp, she pauses once inside to look around. It's not her first time aboard a space ship, but this is MUCH neater than the Milano. "This is not like other ships I have visited." she offers. "There is much less debris." The cloak is removed and tucked into the back waist of her wide belt, like a half-kilt. The taller woman nods when motioned to the seats, and she settles into one of them. "The Sea Song." she repeats, looking somewhat pleased with the name.

Nuala Duvall has posed:
    Nuala arches her brow, and notices that Angela now seems much taller, even taller than herself, and she has found that she is taller than most women.
    "I do my best to keep the ship clear of clutter," she says, moving to a coffee pot that seems to have been adapted to connect to the power in the ship. She retrieves a mug from a storage cabinet, and pours a cup, handing the black liquid to Angela. "It is a bitter drink," she informs, "but I like it. Some people prefer to put things in it to make it sweeter, but I do not usually use them." She moves to sit in the other seat, and the door closes to the ship in the rear. She taps along the controls effortlessly, something she's clearly done many times, and the front window reveals the ship to be raising and it begins to fly out of the park and through the city. "People are very busy here," she comments, looking at the bumper to bumper congestion of the morning traffic and the fluid lines of pedestrians along the side. "I am not certain why so many seem to flock together, there are areas of the planet which have no people at all."

Angela has posed:
    Angela gives a nod, and something that's not unlike a smile. "This is not my first cup of coffee." she declares. Taking a careful sip, she adds. "Although it is better than that stuff the raccoon makes." Peering out through the window, she looks about before she remarks. "This much be a place of commerce, for so many people to be gathered. That is the way of things on my home. Are the people of Midgard traders and barterers, then? They are certainly not warriors."

Nuala Duvall has posed:
    "They like to pretend they are warriors, some of them," Nuala comments. "And there are a few among them, but most of them are traders I think. They like to speak of money." She shrugs. "I am supposed to be a cover of a business owner. It is a tedious cover." And so it continues. A tour of New York City, the Big Apple, Earth at it's...well, at it's most New Yorkness. Silently they spend the next bit, and Nuala gives her rather incomplete assessment of the people, one that is filled with more questions than answers, and attempts to be personable, even though it seems that she is more of a warrior than a conversationalist as well.