Owner	Pose
Warren Worthington	Warren Worthington stood outside, near his Olympic sized swimming pool, although he wasn't dressed for swimming. He wore navy blue shorts, short white socks, white shoes, and a light blue polo shirt. It was late at night, but he was still up, just enjoying the view.     Out in the countryside, you could see the stars, unlike the city. He had a glass in one hand, which had an alcoholic beverage that he had been nursing. He had some music playing, something with a beat that you could dance to, but he was alone. Sometimes he would throw a party, but tonight it was just him.     In some ways, it was a sad life. He had all the money in the world, but at the end of the night, he was alone. He had friends, some close, mot kept at arms length. It was his way.
John Stewart	That's not something you see every night... A man wearing a green uniform flies over the mansion from the east... and once he's over, he slows down, taking a look over it. From this distance, it's hard to make out details... but there is no visible method of floating. Just a slight green 'field' around him that makes it easy to spot him as he surveys the mansion from above.
Warren Worthington	It might be hard for a regular human to make out details. But Angel's vision was as good as any hawks. He could telescope his vision to see at great distances, and could clearly see in near total darkness. He could probably make out the 'made in' and washing instructions label on the man's clothes, if there were one.     Warren set his drink down, no need to waste good scotch, or the crystal glass, and spread his wings through two holes in the polo shirt he wore. By this point, he was having his shirts made with holes for his wings to sprout through. He was rich, but it would be silly of him to ruin a shirt and coat every time he decided to go for a flight.     Taking off at near supersonic speed, he quickly ascended, then came to a stop, as he floated via the flapping of his wings, "who are you, and why have you come to my home?"
John Stewart	With his senses, John is easy to make out as Warren flies up to meet him. A black man with a uniform that most on Earth haven't seen before. When Warren comes up to meet him, the man simply stops in midair. The glowing of his green eyes is the only real thing about him that isn't fully human... but then, the way the energy flicks off his eyes makes it clear he isn't Tamaranian. On His right hand is a green ring... and surrounding him is a thin green energy field of some kind, with no visible 'seam'. "My apologies, would you like me to go? I haven't seen any mansions out beyond the city and was curious." He offers a hand for a handshake, "John Stewart, Green Lantern for this sector."
Warren Worthington	Warren thought the man must be new to Centerport, the actual hamlet in Huntington, where his mansion was located. The median income was north of two hundred thousand. The average was considerably higher, but that was because of people like Warren skewing it. Median was a far better statistic. They were also more than thirty miles from the city.     "You were curious about mansions?" Warren was having a hard time understanding the man. But he did introduce himself. Warren decided to accept the handshake, hovering a bit closer, though he had to flap his wings to do it. "Warren Worthington." He did not understand sectors, but he had heard of Green Lanterns. The man looked human. "What can I do for you, Mr. Stewart?" He was formal, but that was his way. There was no hostility in the question.
John Stewart	"I was just doing a flyby heading back inland." John informs him, pointing north-northwest, "I haven't seen mansions on Earth for a few years, and this is a new design. You wouldn't happen to know who did the blueprints for it, do you?" He asks.
Warren Worthington	Warren squinted his eyes at the fellow. He paused. He looked left, then looked right, and finally, back at John. "Are you feeling all right?" Warren looked rather confused, but he decided to humor the man. "Mansions have been on Earth for centuries. They've been in New York almost since it was settled. This is not new. But it was designed by Alexander Jackson Davis, and built in 1838. It has been renovated several times since then. Why do you ask?"
John Stewart	"Oh. I was off-planet for a few years, and I just came back as the primary Green Lantern." John explains a bit, "I'm not new to Earth, but it's been almost a decade, and I've never been in this area." He glances down to the mansion, those green eyes trailing green energy as he does so, before he looks back to Warren, "I have an interest in Architecture, and I study new blueprints as a hobby." He smiles, amused a bit, "Am I coming off as a nut or something? This is Sector 2814 for us Green Lanterns. There hasn't been one of our Corps here as a primary for a while, and I was just reassigned. It's been a while."
Warren Worthington	Warren brought a hand up to rub his forehead a little, clearly looking frustrated here. "I see. Well, welcome back. A lot has changed in the last decade, but not a great deal, architecturally. Your accent, definitely the Bronx, but Harlem I'm guessing," as a native New Yorker, Warren was familiar with a wide range of local dialects. "A little bit. I don't know what it's like in other sectors, but here on Earth, people usually like to have conversations, not interrogations, especially with strangers flying over one's home."
John Stewart	"I got a bit carried away." John brings up a hand to his head and rubs it a bit in embrassment, "I'm a native to Detriot. Sorry if it feels like an interrogation, I've been a bit scattered for the last few days and been asking a lot of questions while helping out here and there. I don't mean to intrude or be rude. It isn't often I see someone with wings in a mansion. You seem like you might have an interesting story, and I'd be happy to share mine, if you're interested in company?" John inquires casually.
Warren Worthington	"Oh, I was way off," referring to his guess on the accent. He nodded in understanding, trying to treat the Green Lantern with kid gloves, "not many people have wings. My story isn't that complicated. I'm a mutant. They manifested in my early teens." He was also a public figure, so while he did usually wear a mask as Angel, he did not hide who he was. He flew without a mask often.
John Stewart	"It's been a while, but I've been catching up on mutant affairs." John nods, "Databases don't really give you the current social details, just the facts. Seems like things just got busier since I left. Wait... Worthington... Worthington Industries?" John asks, his tone giving the impression of just remembering something he heard offhand.
Warren Worthington	"They never do. It's the human experiences that are the best teachers. You should visit Bushwick," which was the area of Brooklyn that had become something of an informal 'mutant town'. But then he caught Warren's name, and the man nodded, "yes, that Warren Worthington." He was used to the reaction, so didn't seem the least bit surprised.
John Stewart	"I'll do that." John brings up his right hand, and a holographic display comes up out of the ring on his finger. If Warren knows the layout of Buckwick, he'd recognize this as a 3D model of it. It's very accurate. "Seems like a nice enough place, though from the numbers, I'm guessing there's a lot of incidents there." John guesstimates, then, the display flickers out as he looks back to Warren, "Seems like you've done well for yourself." Which seemed to be all he was going to comment on that. "Any other places you might recommend for someone catching up on current events?" John asks, "If you're willing."
Warren Worthington	"Places to catch up on current events." He thought about that, "the internet would be the obvious foundation, Bushwick would help with mutant related issues. Midtown is the heart of New York, the Central Business District is the most important part of Metropolis, but I would suggest exploring Elizabethtown, Clinton would be another area of New York," which was better known as Hell's Kitchen, "Central Heights would be a good place to explore in Gotham, and I've heard strange things about Sunnydale in Bludhaven."
John Stewart	As the suggestions are offered, John listens attentively. Then, he nods at the end, "I'll keep those in mind. I haven't been to Metropolis proper yet, so I think I'll make that my next stop." He bows his head, then, "I apologize for interrupting your night. I meant to just slow down for a minute and then head on my way, but I'm glad I've met you. You're an interesting person, Warren. The ring is telling me I'm almost late, though." He smile, "Perhaps we'll meet again. If you ever need to contact me, just ask at the Hall of Justice."
Warren Worthington	Centerport was on the north shore of Long Island. And as high up as they were, Warren could just point. "Metropolis is there. That's Hell's Gate," the island, "Senreville, if you want specifics," which referred to the neighorhood. It was an affluent area of Metropolis as well. "Although I don't know how many people you'll find awake and in the mood to talk at this hour. It was... interesting meeting you, Mr. Stewart. Until we meet again. Fly safely." And with that, he would swoop back down towards his home, where the scotch was waiting for him.
John Stewart	With a friendly and brief nod, John speeds off to the northwest, flying with a green trail going behind him slightly as he continues on his way.