Owner	Pose
Miss Moreau	Sometimes, even villains need time to think and ponder their life choices. After the intervention of Captain Marvel saving her life, more than one White Rose is pondering all that they've done. Talented luminaries of Gotham's thriving criminal community, never before having been protect by those more fortunate, it tends to give people at least the chance to think. None moreso than the leader of the White Rose Gang. After the violent drive-by from their rivals, a few days to cool off are warranted. Less from the violence, more from the Marvel. And so it is that Miss Moreau finds herself in the Bronx, at a pizza place with an outdoor cafe. The weather is mild, and the strangely dressed woman has gotten quite a few stares. The hawk on her shoulder doesn't help matters. It's eyes shine like crystals. Legs crossed, knife and fork in her hands, she devours the last of her current slice of pizza. Swallow, dab dab dab daintily. "My compliments to the chef!" Offers the woman, raising her voice of faux-british tinged with Gotham roughness. She's on her second beer pitcher, cheeks flushed. No one's complaining about the money she's throwing around. A napkin or two, and then she places a violin to her shoulder. Her playing is skillful enough, and fast. The violin is of only mediocre quality, but it's player has a talent for it. Loud enough to draw in more customers, Moreau finds more beer and pizza shoved her way as her impromptu show. A single seat is empty before her. Thus far, no one has been brave enough to greet the well dressed woman aside from the staff.
Scandal Savage	The unannounced street music is sufficient to catch the attention of one of the pizzeria's more unusual passers-by. Not that Scandal presently shows much overt sign of being the daughter of humanity's longest-lived warlord, but even by the standards of her own decades of existence the violinist makes for a pleasant distraction. Putting her prior plans on hold, Scandal glances to and fro, then crosses the road to join the audience. she's clad in tight black jeans, a waist-length leather jacket, and sensible black boots - looking somewhat like a fitness model in casual dress.
Miss Moreau	The playing ends on a low note after a rising, energetic crescendo that has Moreau out of her seat and dancing to and fro. The crowd parts for her mostly, many drawn into the establishment itself, or simply to get out of the odd musician's way. No singing to accompany. Miss Moreau is hardly as adept with voice as violin. The instrument is gently placed back into it's case, and she offers the crowd a deep curtsey. A smile lingers on her face even as the clapping ends, and the crowd slowly disperses. But it's finally the bird on her shoulder that gets her attention towards Scandal. The strange bird flaps off her shoulder, and begins a low flutter around the woman. Nothing dangerous, but definitely orbiting above her enough that a few stray feathers fall, and the bird cries out. Not unlike a parrot. "BEAST! BEAST!" Flap flutter! "BEAST BEAST!" Is it animal instinct, or just the effects of Moreau's magic? Who could know? Miss Moreau immediately chases after the hawk. "Down! No! Bad, bad Thomas! That is so very rude!" Her arm reaches up, trying to call back the bird. She doesn't dare bring up her Scarlet Tome for more direct methods. Instead, she's making a falconer's motions to the hawk. And entirely isn't noticing Scandal, who she's about to run ruffes-first into!
Scandal Savage	Scandal *had* been advancing with the intent of putting some money into that case, should it remain open to receive it. Now, she finds herself ducking and warily watching the bird... then hastily shifting stance and reaching out to catch the be-ruffled violinist as the strange woman threatens to barrel straight into her. Her expression's one of surprise, but mixed with amusement rather than fear. At least thus far.
Miss Moreau	There's a very light whump as suddenly Moreau is in Savage's arms. There's a pause, as she settles into that embrace. For entirely too long she lingers, with a blush on her cheeks. And then finally, that hawk lands atop her head. Scowl. "Thomas! I...oh, how embarrassing! My apologies, Miss!" Offers the musician. She takes a step or two back. She inclines her head just a bit. "How reckless of me. Oh, but what a hero! You are unharmed? No claw marks? No snapping of beaks?" A dainty hand lifts up, gently bopping the bird on said beak. The thing turns it's head away, as if shamed. A small sniff, and one more step back. A hand is offered. "Miss Moreau, at your service. Whom do I have the honor of meeting, this day?" Her smile is warm.
Scandal Savage	Taking a careful step back, perhaps to reduce the risk of the bird being overly tempted to hop to *her* head, the 'hero' offers a low laugh and a wry smile... then reaches forward to accept that offered hand, shaking firmly. "Scandal. My name, not a comment on the situation," she says. Her accent is polished but a little non-descript; perhaps either the result of a foreigner receiving an expensive education, or a conscious effort to conceal her origins. "And no, there are now claw- or snap-marks."
Miss Moreau	The bird looks just about to hop, too! It offers a simple bird call this time, as Moreau wrangles it back onto her shoulder. A few fingerpets, and it finally settles down. A small breath from Moreau, and the blush slowly fades. "I am quite happy for that, Miss Scandal. Were your parents simply eccentric, or do you have a penchant for flustering others?" Asks the woman with a wink. The accent has Moreau tapping her chin even as she dips, lips coming to that shaking hand of Scandal's. Her own is light, but not limp wristed. "Wonderful. Still, Thomas has been rude, and I a poor handler. Will you join me?" Her free hand motions to the table. "Food and drink on me. Tell me of yourself if you desire, Miss Scandal?" Comes Moreau encouragingly. She makes a dancer's shuffle to the woman's side, her arm trying to link to Scandal's and the other at the woman's waist. An escort position, but whom to whom?
Scandal Savage	A slight hesitation, then Scandal laughs again - and nods. "No offence was caused, but I won't turn down a free pizza." She flashes a quick grin, allowing her arm (and waist) to be snared. "And I think it is safe to say that my father has a rather idiosyncratic approach to life. Including the choice of names. Once I discovered what it actually meant, I did resent it for a time. But I have come to appreciate it now."
Miss Moreau	Both bird and woman perk up as Scandal decides to join them. A few steps towards the table, Moreau pulls out a seat. Then, her hand slides along the table to find her way back to her own, and she sits. "Well, it will certainly stirr conversation! You do not immediately strike me as the sort to cause Scandal. You are far too polite and welcoming." The waiter walks past. "Waiter! Whatever my lovely companion desires." Then Moeau is pouring another beer from the pitcher, and downs it in long pulls. In between sharing it with her bird. Soon the feathery thing is wobbly on her shoulders. Cue the third pitcher, and a second mug. "Mmm. Do you appreciate the disruption of order, or simply being unique? Not that I would insult uniqueness." She lifts the hem of her skirts openly, just for emphasis.
Scandal Savage	Scandal blinks, then laughs, shaking her head as she watches the performance by Moreau and her shoulder-mounted companion. For her own part, she orders a glass of red wine - trusting an Italian-focused restaurant to have something at least palatable. "I cannot say that I love chaos for its own sake... but I have no particular love for other people choosing what order I should be part of, either. Though I cannot claim the excuse of performance art for any of my own oddities."
Miss Moreau	The red wine is definitely cheap given where they are, but at least it's not enough to be utterly undrinkable. For all of her finery, Moreau is very much your low class Gothamite to the bone. Moreau mmm's thoughtfully. "An independent woman. Good. We need more of such sorts in this world. It /is/ a lovely excuse, hmm? Have you ever considered trying music? Or do your skills run differently?" A pause. "At the risk of sounding crude, you felt very...athletic. Strong. A gymnast, perhaps?" Questions the woman.
Scandal Savage	Scandal takes a careful sip of her wine... mildly disappointed that it's not better, but also somewhat relieved that it doesn't simply taste like vinegar. "Music? Never seriously enough to make a living from it. I think that I have enough talent to appreciate how far short of *truly* being talented I am. I don't get pelted with abuse or rotten vegetables if I dare to sing where others can hear me, but I'm never likely to draw an audience. And a gymnast? Not professionally, but I have studied gymnastics a certain amount. I often hear guesses of 'personal trainer' or 'fitness model' for my profession. Though I am, officially, currently no more than a student."
Miss Moreau	"So appreciative of the art, but not a performer. A shame." A slight lilt of dissappointment that passes quickly enough. "How noble! Encouraging health in a world of chaos, war, and destruction! I wonder...if there were less generals, and more models of human beauty, perhaps we would all be artisans and runners?" Offers the woman whimsically, before she stands. The sound of a phone rings in her pocket. Her hand feels her way into ruffles, and a few rubs later, she pulls it out. Lifted to her ear, she offers an apologetic bow. "Yes, Sebastion? Out...again? And where was...did you reattach the arm? What about cauterizing it? Oh my. Fine, I shall come make sure it is all cleaned up." There's a huff, and she snaps the phone shut. "My apologies Miss Scandal, it seems some of my Family have had a bit too much fun this eve. Allow me to pay for the meal." And so she lays down a generous helping in tips, and for both their drinks. As well as a card. "I find you interesting. Call me some time if you ever have an interest in performance art. Or, animals." A wink, and soon a white car pulls up. Grasping her cane, she gives a jaunty little wave.