2013-01-24 Billboard Walk and Parking Garage Place

How much more crazy can life get, Norse Thunder Deities, personal talks with the head of the most powerful international law enforcement organization, billionaire playboy philathropist geniuses wanting to be on a first name basis while offering a job and a new StarkPhone Elite-JA Mark IV free during the release party with every tricked out option and extra possible. Caitlin has probably unintentionally networked better in the past week then most people could hope for in a lifetime, and she is almost walking on a cloud because of it. A huge dufflebag over one shoulder, she sauntering confidently down the street, smiling at people, not really rushing, but with her long long stride it isn' exactly slow. Life is finally not cramming rotting worm eaten lemons down her throat, at least for now, and the few minor curveballs she's been thrown recently, she's handled as they've come. With the sun shining, and the gentle breeze, even the 22 degree weather isn't really that big a deal. Perhaps life can actually be... good?

KRAK THOOM! The sound is utterly disruptive to the gentle breeze and crisp yet serene day. The next noise of loud metal on metal screech is even more troublesome to the senses. A billboard levels above the city streets is spitting out a torrent of sparks and sliding from it's base; pulling out at a horrible angle as the tons worth of marketing material peels away and leers above. So close to snapping off. This could easily be fatal to any below. Men, women, children, pedastrians of all kinds have stopped and are pointing upwards at it. No one seems to be running away or seeking shelter either - it's right now something of an 'awe' 'wow' lookit that scenario not a run for your lives that could crush us! Sort of ordeal. Whatever had caused it to snap off and begin to fall goes unseen and clearly hit it with enough impact to smash one of the support beams.

It takes a moment for the commotion to break through the wall of happiness, but Caitlin is far from deaf, and bunches of people pausing to point upward just helps draw her attention to the issue. It is about now that she considers all the heroes better qualitifed to handle situations like this one, Spiderman could *twip* *twip* and make a web net to bind the billboard safely above the street, countless flying bricks *whoosh* up and catch it in midair and deposit it safely elsewhere, energy blasters could destroy the billboard with a *pew* *pew* or a *kerrrrrzap!*, some skilled spellcaster could banish the billboard to the boundless beyonds of the borealis breach, some teleporter could *fmab!* up their and the *fmab!* the billboard and themself to the junk yard, heck, there might even be a reality warper who could simply *poof* the billboard back to normal... sadly, in the moments that Caitlin thinks of all these, she also realizes... she is none of them, but seemingly none of them are coming, and she is here.

Taking a deep breath, she focuses, mutters, "curveball" under he breath, crouches slightly, tensing her powerful legs, and then leaps... She is no Hulk... or even a She-Hulk or Golden Age Pre-Flight Era Superman, but while a single bound won't allow her to clear a tall building, it does get her to a ledge about eight stories up with only a few tiny pebbles and some dust falling from beneath her feet. Holding on to the side of the building, she carefully crouches again, and springs herself airborne again, finding a 20 story parking garage rooftop to land on, tucking her duffle bag and jacket in an area that most people couldn't get to on the side of it without climbing gear or a crane, and then she is in motion again, getting a running start across the rooftop this time. It takes her a few more leaps to get to where the Billboard is, but as she lands she surveys the scene, her hands tensing as she prepares to see if her mass is enough to not be pulled over the side with the billboard.

The billboard continues its groaning outstretch away from the building but not at any sort of quick pace right now at least not until the rest of the brackets supporting it snap free and shoot off like little bullets. Kind of like stitches tearing. Her weight or at least where she has landed having no affect on the actuall falling portion.

Imbedded in the side of the building she does see a pair of legs one of them kicks out then kicks again as a growling angry well-muscled young man in a black t-shirt peels himself free of the concrete.

"I am so dead." Can be heard as blood is wiped off of his face. Right now he seems entirely unaware of Caitlyn's presence.

Okay.. bloody guy, sort of cute... billboard still somewhat supported, maybe chance to reverse the swing and put it partly right before it is too late... cute bloody guy can survive being put in a wall, potential threat level high but motives and alliegience still uncertain, better to trat with caution but not aggression... Probable other party in play, unseen but likely under circumstances, keep on guard... priority is billboard, check. Like a tactical version of triage, Caitlin assesses the situation, prioritizes and conceives basic contingencies in a matter of moments, and then doesn't wait to find out if the angry young man is a foe, neutral, friend, or wildcard... she braces herself aganst any lip or elevated ledge she can, and then reaches out to try to pull the billboard back, slowly pulling and trying to pull it little by little so she is walking her hands from the near still connected side to the distant side, moving hand over hand in hopes to get the billboard back in place before any 'seams' pop, the billboards or her own, as her pants already are strained under the pressure of her legs flexing beneath their denim confines.

Casting a cursory glance back, Caitlin asks, "Short version, who are you, what happened, and why?" where is sort of obvious, 'here'... when may be a bit longer, but 'now' covers the important part... how is a non-issue at present, and can wait until later... so that shortens the needed info in half generally.

Although not dazed more surprised than anything Kon finds himself staring at the muscled and nicely shaped backside of Caitlyn before wiping off a bit more blood. "Gross." He mumbles. The surprise even more evident as she manages to pull the damaged structure appendage back in with what looks like relative ease. "Uhm, Superboy actually and it's kind of embarassing." Moving over near her he gets a grip along side her and helps adjust it before his eyes flare up a bright red and heated beams dance out of them to melt metal against metal; a quick spackle/weld job with his abilities. NOW THAT impressed himself even. He's usually bad with the eye beams but this time it was kind of instinctual.

"Better question, who are you?"

Blushing, Caitlin offers a hand, even if he hadn't said who he was, between his shirt and the heat beams, she probably would have guessed, "I'm Caitlin Fairchild. No fancy codename, just overly conscientious and sometimes too courageous civilian trying to be a good samaritan when needed." She crosses her other arm over her self a bit self-consciously, especially considering the emblem she is sorting on her shirt, the variation on that emblem, and the fact that she is speaking with someone with a rightful claim to that insiginia. She averts her eyes a bit, "Um... did you hit an air pocket while flying and just lost control? Or did you just save the planet from a meteor and couldn't slow your own reentry velocity in time?" trying to think what would have caused the situation and be embarrassing to the Teen of Titanium.

Superboy's hand thrusts out and just as quickly snares back before touching her; pinning it underneath his shirt to use it as a rag. It's ruined. That is a given but at least he has a dozen other just like it. Smudging the rest of the blood off first he then shakes her hand. "Pretty name. Air pocket?" He asks and his cheeks flush a bit with embarassment. "Yeah, kind of something like that." How do you tell someone you just murdered a pigeon with your face? Claim it was a villain of the worst kind and hated eyeballs? No. Air pocket sounds like the best idea. As if it'll change the subject he nudges the billboard with his elbow making sure it's steady before asking her, "How did you get all the way up here?"

For once in a rare while she doesn't have to worry about powdering the metacarpals in the hand she is shaking, and can actually give a firm handshake, smiling, but turning her eyes downward again in her own embarrassment. As Caitlin takes back her hand she brushes a stray lock of hair that has come loose from her face and shrugs, "It took a few well aimed leaps, but New York has some wide ledges and buildings that can be used like giant steps, so it wasn't too hard to figure out where to jump to make my way up here quickly." glancing out she pauses as she gets a chance to see the city from an angle she usually never is at, "Wow! Sort of an epic view from up here. Might need to make a note to come up this high occasionally just for fun, when it isn't a possible life and death issue." she then adds a shy, "Thanks for the compliment."

"Strong too." Superboy compliments as she redirects her attention to the city where people are below still looking up. "I guess I don't always notice but then I don't usually fly either. We should probably go away from here... " Yep, there is cameras down there and people seem to be getting overly nosy. "Need a lift or can you make it to those buildings over there?" He points across the way some several blocks to a squat pair of brownstones that look like they're shielded in shade and overhangs by the two taller buildings flanking them. The question game can begin when they're out of the spotlight.

Pointing to a parking garage, "I might be able to, but either way I need to pick up my duffle and jacket from that garage. I didn't want to risk having them get damaged if I couldn't pull the billboard back up in time." she blushes a bit again, "Would it be a probably to carry me there so I can grab them, they're nestled in a support region over the walkway on the side toward the business building." She hadn't considered how to get back down, and really, going up is easier since gravity helps you decelerate going up, it only makes descents all the faster. While she isn't really afraid of being caught on camera anymore, that doesn't mean she feels the urge to suddenly change old habits herself, so getting some added concealment doesn't sound all too bad to her, either.

"That is probably a better place anyways." Parking garage how come he never thinks of those. Must be that never driving super-pedastrian thing. "Sure thing. Hold on" Superboy quickly says in regards to the flying passanger idea; taking her wrist he guides it over his shoulder then lowers his forearm to her waist while lifting off the ground in a wavering hover - he needs the practice anyways. Gravity defied they begin to sail the direction she'd indicated. "So Caitlin... Alien, Mutant or Other?" Going for idle chatter while hovering near her bag on the ledge.

She seems to look up, as if pondering the matter, and perhaps not wanting to look down, biting her lower lip, "Let's go with other, since I know I'm not Alien, but my abilities were either prematurely triggered which would imply I was a latent mutant with an x-gene who just didn't manifest during puberty... not that I did much during puberty, so that may have had something to do with that... or the process that was used caused some adaptation in my system to survive which would imply I'm a metahuman with a metagene... not absolutely sure since the jerks who lied to me and said I was getting a prestigious government internship that would look good on resumes after college just generalized myself and the others who manifested as 'Gene-Active' which could be either gene, or something totally different. Either way, I got everything puberty failed to give me, and then some. And got to experience the whole change in..." she pauses, "I really need to ask Roxie exactly how long it was from when I started screaming about the headache to when I ripped that stupid hospital gown to shreds. Felt like forever, but couldn't have been more then 2 or 3 minutes." She grabs her duffle and slings it over her free shoulder, then grabs her leather jacket and tucksit under that arm, holding them both with the free hand, "Okay. I'm good to go."

Listening to her active Superboy nods, "Other. Got it." Just accepting it like that as if that is simply how things are. Who is he to judge anyways? "Sounds kind of confusing when you lay it all out like that." One quick lift once she has her things and he is landing at the garage and letting go. Pausing while he plucks off what looks like a feather from his shirt. Ick. "So what do you do then? Just live a normal life?" No clue who Roxie is he doesn't pry with more questions than he already has.

There is a deep sigh of the weight of the world, "Until this past week, mainly I ran, made myself just visible enough to keep the attention of the Project on me and off my friends and family, so they'd hunt me instead of those I care about. My DNA and appearance changed so drastically that until I got some very influential help a few days ago, I had no legal identity anymore, few prospects for employement, and was living hand to mouth for the most part. Same person that helped me is also putting pressure on the Project to back off, and is helping me a little to get myself a new start. Still have to get a job and a place to live, but with my identity back, I actually can re-access my scholorship to Princeton and complete my degrees online, plus actually might add a few to the list of majors, and I fully intend to." Caitlin smiles, "So... you know some about me. All I really know for sure about you is you're the Big Boy Scout's relative somehow, some people think you're his son, others say you're his little brother who somehow was formed in a test tube incubator rocket that was sent at the same time as him, a few people say you're an extradimensional alternate him, while others think you're his attempt to make a family by creating you from genetic splicing of DNA from dead Kryptonians."

"I know how that running and hiding thing goes. So you're kind of a brainy chick, huh?" Superboy observes as she goes on about Princeton, extra courses, degrees and college."Big Boy Scout? Oh... Superman. Uh, we're related and I don't know about any of that alternate dimension, test tube junk or whatever else just leave it at we're close. He's like my older brother I suppose." Touchy subject obviously from the way he has begun rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm just around trying to help now. Best I can do I figure."

A smirk comes across her lips as she taps her foot, "I'm not a 'chick', a 'bird', a 'bitch', a 'ho', 'doll', 'broad, 'skirt', nor even a 'dame'." seeming a bit insulted at the term, "But yes, I am intelligent, and did once have a double major at Princeton." Caitlin doesn't press about the family, lord knows she has some family issues of her own, and has friends with even worse family issues. She sighs and shakes her head, "I figure, if I get the degrees, I can get the knowledge and the skills to help my friends, maybe undo some of the damage. That is why I want to finish my computer science and electrical engineering degrees, but also think maybe Pyschology and Molecular Biology would help." she then smiles as she looks around, "If you're trying to help, there isn't much more anyone can ask of you... except yourself. Are you doing yourself justice? Are you being the best you can be for yourself, or just the best you can be for what others need of you?"

Superboy's hands both wave up palm first, "Hookay, no reason to get touchy. Not a chick, got it." Not apologizing either while in the process. "Double major? Sounds like a lot of work. You must really like school." Listening to what else she has to say he just smiles and shrugs. "I'm doing what I can." A curious glance given at her as she seems to now be going in to a very different tone or 'mode'. "So where you heading somewhere? Not keeping you am I?" Glancing her over once again. Man she is attractive - her body definitely contends with Ravagers in the 'whoah' department. Ah the curse of youth.

Shrugging she smiles, and takes a long deep breath, "School's a mean to an ends. Knowledge can be way more powerful when used right then almost any amount of strength." Caitlin stretches and then shakes her head, "I was just wandering, thinking about what I want to do with my life, window shopping and thinking about apartment hunting." she point to the duffle, "At the moment, most of my life is in there, so I can sort of go almost anywhere at the moment, few ties to any particular place, just friends who I can always just keep in touch with one way or another. Why? You have something you want to do?"

Superboy shakes his head slowly from side to side, "Not want no but need to. I know I'm running late already." He offers up a quick smile, "It was nice to meet you Caitlin. Maybe we'll run in to eachother again." Hopefully without him being covered in flying rodent guts in the process. "I uhm, I'd give you my number but I don't know it off the top of my head." He is terrible with cell phones the team keeps supplying him with. "And uh can we keep this incident between us?" Indicating the obvious ruckus in which he made his entrance.

Nodding, Caitlin smiles, "Don't worry, I won't let a soul know you were winged by an 'air pocket', I'm no stool pigeon." she pauses, and ponders, "You have all those fancy powers like Superman right?" getting a sort of mischevious idea, "I think I know a way for me to give you my number fo you to call me later when you got your phone situation in order." giggling a bit at her idea

Reaching out she gently takes his forearm in her hands, breathing her hot breath across the forearm like a warm fog due to the tempature contrasts of her breath and the cold air, as if she were breathing on glass. Caitlin smiles mischeviously, then takes her glove off and runs her fingernail across the area, as if using it to write her number into the flesh, gently... for someone with superstrength... making the numbers and adding her name, dotting the i's in Caitlin and Fairchild with hearts. To a human being it would at best maybe have been able to leave little scratches in flesh, but if one has various visions that can see infrared and microscopicly, the smeared bodily oils and heat should be readable for days, giving her name and number more clearly then if she'd used a sharpie, and in prettier colors too. She then releases the arm, and turns, sashaying over to her jacket and duffle, not bothering to bend her knees as she leans over and grabs both up, shouldering them both as she straightens and puts her glove back on, then slipping her jacket on while switching the duffle's strap from her right shoulder to her left shoulder and back to her right shoulder again once her jacket is in place and smoothed down. She then smiles over her left shoulder, blows a kiss, and begins to saunter away confidently.

Confusion again then an upraising of both brows has Superboy staring openly as Caitlin does her thing not really sure what is going on at first. "Creative." He whispers realizing he is just holding his breath for the entire time she is doing her thing he exhales and lets out a light chuckle while once again rubbing his neck, "Okay uhm... Caitlin, I'll give you a call sometime?" Floating away slowly now entirely under the assumption she has the hots for him. Which is good right? Shes smokin' anyways. Finally peeling his eyes from the redhead he turns and zips off in a black, blue and red streak. Maybe flight practice isn't such a bad idea all around.