529/A Strange World
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| A Strange World | |
|---|---|
| Date of Scene: | 21 May 2017 |
| Location: | Unknown |
| Synopsis: | Summary needed |
| Cast of Characters: | Superwoman, 271
|
- Superwoman has posed:
Superwoman floats above Tealboro, arms crossed over her chest as she scans for trouble. Quiet, as the world echoes in her super hearing. She's draped in black, silver, and white- very unlike the Red, white, and blue of Superman, Supergirl and the others from her world. She is not well known, yet, but stories have begun of the woman of steel. She is very much a different type of creature than the others who have made Earth their home.
"A city of thieves." Faora mumbles to herself. "This is a strange world." she says quietly, just watching the world below- quiet and curious how humanity does its thing.
- Keane (271) has posed:
Haunting an alley, just a yard back from the street, a very tall humanoid is leaning against a building wall where it can keep an eye on the streets beyond the alley mouth. Keane dresses like a private dick from a bad novel about the 1940s, complete with the trench coat and wide-brimmed fedora hat, and sharp eyes might pick out what looks like black surgical gloves covering his clawed, beastial hands.
What he's doing in that alley is anyone's guess. He seems to be just hanging out, about as casual as could be. Of course anybody who thinks they might pass down that way gets a look at the 6'8" monster standing there and thinks better of it, so it isn't like he has much chance to do anybody harm. At least not unless he's willing to step out on the street to do it, if that's what he has in mind in the first place.
- Superwoman has posed:
A nearly seven foot tall individual tends to pull attention- even from those such as Faora. She floats quietly, gently towards Keane. She alights on the ground so gently, a booted foot finding purchase as she looks carefully at Keane. "What manner of being are you?" She asks without any kind of prejudice.
- Keane (271) has posed:
"Zhylogian," the tall, ape-like Keane answers, turning from his study of the street's traffic and denizens to face the super woman. Up close, it looks like whatever he wears on his hands goes up under his sleeves and he's wearing a balaclava or face mask made of the same material, skin-tight and without eye or mouth holes, that goes down under his collar. Maybe a bodystocking.
The humanoid looks straight at Faora, not eyeing her up and down but just staring down at her, until he says, "You aren't human either," matter-of-factly.
- Superwoman has posed:
"I'm not." Faora replies simply. Her body is dense beyond reckoning. Her anatomy isn't quite right for being human. "Zhylogian." She says again, taking a slow breath. "Are you friendly to the people of Earth?" she asks, next. "I am among their protectors. I would not very much like to see them harmed by hostile aliens." she continues as she begins to scan him deeper- x-ray vision, listening carefully.
- Keane (271) has posed:
It's easy to say what's heard - nothing. No heartbeat, no breathing. Even when he speaks there are no signs of those common sounds; the sharp inhale before, the slow exhale during, the faint or sometimes pronounced smack and tick of saliva against tongue and lips. The sounds of cadence and enunciation are clear enough as if air were hissing through teeth, even the rich vibrato of vocal chords, but no signs of the actual breathing required to produce them. It's like an artificial playback. Looking at him bears this out - he stands as still as a statue. When he speaks there -is- something strange, a high-pitched but low-volume staticy buzz well above the range of human hearing, something like tiny hairs rubbing against each other at extremely high speed.
The x-ray examination is harder to discuss. Beyond the suit of clothes is something that even few Kryptonians are likely to have encountered - a black hole - and even those few Kryptonians to have encountered one of those have likely never encountered one with the properties and behaviors of this one. Beyond that is a metallic mesh bodysuit, a real bodysuit this time, that contains the entire alien's being, wired into some kind of powerpack at his back, and inside that the alien himself - Keane - is absolutely solid and dense as diamond. The only orifices in his body is what looks like a mouth and ears, and those are just for show - there are no teeth or eardrums, no throat or digestive system, only billions of nanoscopic cillia lining the inside of the 'mouth' and 'ear' cavities which quiver at near light speed.
He wears an unshaped chunk of granite on a simple string around his neck, the stone wrapped in flat ribbons of iron and gold, where the stone and metals seems to have eroded significantly on the side that lays against his chest.
"My mission to the Earth," the tall alien answers the lady alien in his baritone voice, "in fact to the universe you share with the Earth, is equal parts diplomatic and xenobiological." He's quiet a moment before he adds, "I think the term is, 'First Contact.'"
- Superwoman has posed:
Faora is silent. "So, this form is non-native to you, then?" she asks next, as she analyzes and thinks. She is no scientist. She is a soldier, first and foremost. "Your body seems... unique to say the least. I imagine it is most for the benefit of being on this planet, though, than by choice. Is that accurate?" she is quiet almost to the point of being curt or rude. Her arms still lay across her chest.
- Keane (271) has posed:
The alien's broad shoulders hunch at the question and he stoops as if he was trying to make himself appear smaller. "The form wasn't engineered or chosen, if that's what you're asking," Keane answers. "When we studied interdimensional travel it was understood that Zhylogian native forms would intrinsically change during..." he's babbling self-consciously, even defensively, although the way he generates his voice it doesn't reflect in his tone the way it reflects in his body language. He stops talking and re-answers, "Yes, you are correct."
- Superwoman has posed:
"Most beings would choose less intimidating forms for first contact." Faora notes simply. "If, that is, one wishes to be diplomatic in the truest sense of the word." She, for her part, is very flat as she speaks- barely any emotion creeping into her words. "You find it a distressing form?" she asks, assessing the situation.
- Keane (271) has posed:
Keane relaxes the hunch to his shoulders, but remains stooped. "I find it distressing to be reminded how intimidating it is to this world's native people," he answers bluntly.
- Superwoman has posed:
"I suggest you get over that particular distress. I look mostly human but I am reminded daily I am not. You will not be able to hide among them. Ever." Faora is perfectly honest, and perhaps a bit brutally blunt as she speaks now. "You will be forced to show your good nature through action alone, and even then they will still fear you. This is not something you can do anything about. It is the nature of the species- something you can not overcome."
- Keane (271) has posed:
"I'm not stupid," the Zhylogian answers the Kryptonian flatly, demonstrating that he does know how to mimic tone of voice to express attitudes and emotional states. "And I am here for the next thirty years," Keane adds as he turns his head slightly away from Faora and upward, as if listening intently on one side.
After a moment he turns back to the woman fully. "Fortunately I have the goodwill and cooperation of this planet's defensive and offensive agencies, in exchange for my goodwill and cooperation in their endeavors, so I don't need to hide from anyone. Unfortunately their primary caveat is that I limit my contact with local governments to their proxy." He doesn't bother to mimic laughter, although his shoulders heave slightly as he mimics the motion of laughing.
- Superwoman has posed:
"Very well." Faora replies simply. "And I never said you were stupid." she states next, "Anyways." she perks, looking up. "I'm afraid I must go." she bows her head to Keane. "Work." she explains, and away she goes- flying like a streak of black and white and silver in the sky, towards trouble.