Owner	Pose
Kate Bishop	The life of a street level vigilante and detective can be pretty rough on a baseline human. Even one as fit and trained as Kate Bishop. Dealing with mostly hordes of minions takes it's toll and she's not quite as spry as she once was. So for now she's kicked back on the sofa, cold compresses wrapped up in dish towels strapped around her shoulder, knee and one on her ankle. It's the landings. The woman still mostly in street clothes. Old bluejeans and a purple woolen sweater. Good insulation against the gel bags. Bare feet allowed to breath after way too much running. Beside her and mostly taking up two thirds of the couch is Lucky the Pizza Dog. The stalwart defender of Chez Hawkeye while they binge watch Dog Detective. It's Lucky's favorite and her totally seems to know what's going on in front of his good working eye. It's better than letting him eyeball and try steal the pizza on the side table on her right opposite the dog on her left.
America Chavez	The life of a street level vigilante and detective can be pretty rough on a baseline human. The life of a multiversal adventurer can be pretty rough on a superhuman from outside spacetime. But. It definitely hits different when you don't have to actually care about joint aches. Still, for as different as their relative problems might be, Kate Bishop still remains one of the few people around these parts America Chavez truly feels comfortable around -- and that means certain things. For one: as is custom for the Utopian, she treats front doors and knocking like vestigial suggestions rather than common courtesy, intruding on the private eye's life in the form of the telltale star that shimmers to cerulean life next to Kate's sofa. For two... America has very little compunction about smashing one fist through that star and casually nabbing not one, but -two- slices of pizza as she walks in through that opening gateway amid fracturing, glass-like shards of spacetime. She takes an easy step past the portal -- and straight towards Lucky, squatting next to the Pizza Dog to offer up one of the pizza slices she so cruelly swiped from poor, recuperating Kate. "Dog Detective again?" America wonders, voice ever-deadpan. She looks back over her shoulder towards Kate, eyeing those cold compresses. "You okay?" It's an open question if she's asking about Kate's well-being or about her taste in sitcoms. Maybe it's both. That portal stays open for a few, shimmering seconds longer as America speaks. If Kate looks, she might see what looks like the interior of Titans Tower before the star shutters closed in a re-knitting of spacetime.
Kate Bishop	The portal opens and there's the rush of differing levels of air pressure. Kate's hair left loose wooshes a little as she looks over to see America punch her way through and then snag those slices. It just amuses the woman. Thankfully the pie isn't small. But it does lack many of the toppings normally associated with pizza. Mostly bacon, ham or pepperoni. There is beef and chicken instead, some mushrooms and olives helping keep the slices from being barren cheese wastelands. "It's like zen for Lucky. he misses his Dad " the doggo getting scritches while his chin rests on a thigh. A grumbly groat escaping the pooch "Clint's doing Clint stuff so probably taking more of a beating than me." she guesses and scrunches her features up. "I'm just dealing with wear and tear. Three point landings really are horrible on your legs. "Hey was that Titan's Tower? They gotta be all swooning over you upstate!" which is a perfectly understandable reaction to Ms Chavez's presence.
America Chavez	Setting one pizza on her bare knee as she crouches, America tears off a chunk of the other, feeding Lucky his pizza-mannah-from-heaven as she listens to Kate. Winter's starting to grace NYC, but America dresses in stark defiance to the season: a short-sleeved, collared cotton top, shoulders and sleeves blue and decorated with stars and body striped white and red, and a simple pair of denim cutoffs and star-spangled sneakers consist of her outfit today. It's not that she can't wear pants. She has. but winter weather's certainly not going to stop her from wearing short shorts when she wants to wear short shorts. Cold-nipped fingers warm as America strokes them across Lucky's furry head, scritching with practiced gentleness as her friend speaks. She pauses in feeding the Pizza Dog his pizza to look sidelong at the couch-bound Kate, a brow arched. "Sounds like someone's getting old," she remarks dryly. "Ever think of not showing off so damn much, Princess?" It's a tease, but really. America worries for the other woman. "I won't think that much less of you." She just shows it in her own way. But, it's the question of the Titans Tower that causes America to pause. She blinks, looks over where the portal was -- before ultimately shrugging, feeding another chunk of beef-chicken-mushroom pizza to Lucky. "Yep," she answers vaguely. A few seconds pass, and in that casual-but-taciturn way of hers, she adds: "... They're alright people. Decided to join up with them. At least, while I'm here."
Kate Bishop	The pupper fawns at America with a happy look as he's given Pizza. Wolfing it down in a couple chews and panting happily while leaving America's hand a little slobbery. The scritches at least do not leave the pan planar woman covered in hair. He just had brushies in the bathroom. The guy deserves all the car and grooming after a life with the tracksuits. "If I didn't show off I'd be sooo boring. Thankfully I still have my looks. Plus gotta push myself to make sure I don't get shot or stabbed and stuff." America has seen the scars. Thank goodness Kate is loaded and can afford medical insurance. Or at least knows some really good street doctors. News of joining the Titans gets a big grin and even Lucky hops off the couch to bound around the woman feeding her chunks of Pizza. He knows happy when he hears the tone. "Awesome, hopefully they can at least keep up with you! But gonna be all missions and house sharing. You might even have to do chores! It's a struggle I know full well as a rich girl. But I also know you can cook so that gets you out of a lot!" she beams and chuckles. "You'll still have a place here when you need the space though so options abound. We'll have to break your room in with a party of something soon!" she ponders plans.
America Chavez	All the care and grooming for good boy Lucky. And pizza. You can't forget the pizza. America's hand comes back a little slobbered, but she doesn't particularly seem to mind; she offers the dog one of those rare, small smiles of hers, hoop earrings swaying as she leans in to bump her forehead against the dog's. "You're a badass, Lucky," she offers, which is about her equivalent of 'good boy.' After, her attention turns back to Kate, brows lifting as the brunette jokingly excuses the necessity of the hero landing. "Uh huh," she drones out in response, because -- she /has/ seen the scars. "Don't worry; you ever get to a point you can't show off for me, I'll still think you're a badass." America offers a conspiratorial look Lucky's way. "Just not as much of one as Lucky." Lucky enthuses for America's good news; Kate joins in. The Utopian's response is to snort in that 'no big deal' way of hers, rustling Lucky affectionately before she plucks up her remaining pizza and rises back up onto her feet. As Kate speaks, the taller woman sets that pizza aside for the moment to circle around the sofa, leaning in to take hold of the cold compress on Kate's shoulder. "You need new compresses," she says in lieu of anything else. "Hold on, gonna get you some replacements." And off America wanders deeper into the apartment proper to fish through the fridge for replacements to Kate's compresses. Brown curls bounce as she turns her head, looking over her shoulder to scoff as Kate talks about a party. "Gets me out of a lot with a princess who can't cook for shit, at least," she quips wryly, before her attention returns to the fridge. "I'll do chores when I'm dead." Daily routines -- America Chavez's anathema. Eventually, the fridge door shuts, and Chavez returns, compresses in hand. "It's... good. I've been crashing with a few of 'em. Most of 'em have a good head on their shoulders." -Most-, she has to stress. A second passes, after Kate's offer. And America offers one more rare smile as she leans in to start unwrapping that towel at Kate's shoulder, to begin replacing those compresses. "Appreciate that, princess," she offers, sincerely. For the offer of a place when she needs it. "You better throw me one hell of a party though, rich girl."
Kate Bishop	The tone is recognized and Lucky lets out a happy bark as he's given the royal treatment from both women. he deserves it. "By the time I get that far. Hopefully I can afford some badass cyborg parts. That or I start just being the chick that funds whole teams. I can be like some awesome mentor or something. Or at least a sugar mama." she half jokes. She knows she can't do the hero thing forever but damn if she won't hold out as long a possible as long as she can get anti inflammatory medication. The movement of the compress on her shoulder. The dishcloth and her sweater damp where it's thawed. It's still cold but not chilly enough. So of course when America goes to get more from the freezer. Of which there is seveeral. In varying shapes. There's even one in an eyemask. Kate grins. "Helloooooo Nurse!" she half jokes. "I think I have some old scrubs in my wardrobe, had to sneak into a hospital. I also half expect Clint has an sexy uniform in his wardrobe. Man's a player." even she has to admit. The compress gets replaced, her sweater insulating against the biting part of the cold. But it's still felt so it can do it's job. "Wall to wall princesses though. I can see why you accepted the offer." Kate's met a few of them. Dated one of them. "They'll definitely make the party worthwhile. Whether the world can survive it. Who knows? Tune in for our next exciting episode!" she jokes. At least the Tower would be the safest place to ever party.