2012-07-07 Laptop Bags and Demon Girls

Morning has broken over New York City on a Saturday morning, and while the city itself never sleeps, it does tend to run in normal human cycles. The East Village slowly rises from its slumber as storefronts in the trendy entertainment district mostly still remained closed, although many shopkeepers are washing down the concrete in front of their businesses. The art galleries, rock-concert bar and grills, and comic stores are all dark inside, however, the coffee-and-brunch business are well into their business day.

At one such business, a local breakfast nook named "Roast of the Town", there's a small outside seating area cordoned off for diners where a few customers are drinking coffee and playing on their laptops. This small seating area keeps the customers out of the way of the steady stream of "on-the-move" New Yorkers that rush in and out of the door with their triple, double, soy, and mocha what-nots.

Talia Wagner, a blue-skinned and obvious mutant, quietly sits at one of the outside tables by herself. Quietly swaying her tail, she's brought one knee up to rest against her chest as she munches on a crepe and a steaming cup of coffee. Idly, she flips through a copy of the Daily Planet while enjoying the music playing through her S-phone's music player.

With the riot in New York peeking her interest given a certain m word in the story, Lois day trips to the Big Apple, under the guise of 'going shopping'. But anyone that would talk about such things are either not talking or not available for talking. Lois resigns herself into actually doing what she came to New York to do (read: shopping!), and so is out to find coffee.

Ah! Sweet sweet coffee. How I love thee! Let me count th- Great Cesar's Ghost is that a mutant? Lois, freshly purchased coffe in hand, spots Talia. The reporter glances about, left to right, then heads over.

Talia looks up from her newspaper, focusing her all-white eyes on Lois Lane. Reaching for her S-Phone, she taps a button and removes one of the earbuds from her ear. "Company? Oh, sure, no it's a free country." She motions to one of the chairs at the small table. Smiling politely, she folds the newspaper back up and removes the other earbud. "The other day I sat near the entrance to this place and my table was getting hammered with laptop bags." Reaching out with a slender, three-fingered hand, she takes up her cup of coffee and brings it to her lips.

Violet eyes meet white ones. Lois can feel that prickle of adrenaline creep up her back at the girl's slightly demonic appearance. The sensation might be noted in the way her eyes widen slightly, and how Lois needs to square her shoulders slightly before she sits down. Her eyes dance to the newspaper, and Lois Lane smirks.

"Good choice," says the reporter, head nodding to the now folded edition of the Planet. She sets her purse on the table near at hand as she sits. Her head tilts to one side, curiousity settling in.

"Laptop bags," Lois asks, one brow quirking in question and mild confusion.

"Okay, look..." Talia says, one of her fingers pointing towards the door to the coffee shop. "...people are coming in and out of the building super-face, but when there's two people in the door, one person has to lean out to the side, right?" Sure enough, as she's describing this, one man leaving the shop with a large, steaming, something-or-other has to turn to the side to avoid colliding with someone coming into the building. The bag on his shoulder sways, partially riding the railing and bumping against the wrought-iron table by the door. Talia laughs softly when it happens. "At first I //wondered// why no one was sitting there, and now I know."

The mutant sets her cup down and takes up her fork. With a light scrape, she cuts her strawberry-banana crepe with the side of the fork. "Sorry that's massively nerdy of me. What do you do? I'm Talia." She casts a glance back down to her plate, leaning in for a bite of her breakfast. It gives her table-partner a wide opening to reply.

Lois follows Talia's explanation, lips smiling as she watches the laptop-bag-to-face affect first hand. She hadn't thought about it but not that she's seen it... A chuckle drifts from her.

Talia's questioin bring s faint look of surprise until a pridefilled smile blooms. Reaching out, Lois picks up the paper, turns to the front page, lower left corner, where she's got a short run story about something rather not going anywhere. This she holds up to Talia to peer at.

"Lois Lane, Daily Planet," is all the reporter says aloud. She fits the role well, with her 'young business woman' inspired skirt suit. Today, Lois is going with a rich teal blazer over pasley printed multi-colored satin blouse tucked into a charcoal gray pleated knee length skirt. Mustard yellow and brown three inch heels cover her feet, pulling some colors from the swirls in the print of her shirt.

"THE Lois Lane from the Daily Planet?" Talia asks with a broad smile, leaning in to take a look at the article on the front page. "Wow, I was just reading that article, too. You've got this non-political in-your-face style. Pretty cool."

Tucking a lock of her long, black hair behind her pointed ear, she sets the fork down and reaches out for her cup of coffee. Behind her slender, blue frame is an old, beat up packpack. Stuffed to the gills with various patches from punk and rock bands, as well as a stencil that reads 'Property of Boys Town Institute', the backpack has one large, long cloth wrapped item lashed to it. It could be a baseball bat wrapped in fabric, it could be a hockey stick, but it's definitely something hard tied to travel alongside the heavy looking knapsack.

"So are you out and about working today, Lois? On a Saturday?" She pauses for another sip from the mug and swallows. "Don't let me talk your ear off if you've got to get going."

You know, there's something really great about being called THE Lois Lane. It makes the reporter smile as she sets the paper back down. She catches sight of those fingers and those ears with flicking glances that doesn't linger over much but is clearly focused on the girl. Talias has the reporter's full attention. The bag is given one of those glances as well, but it's clearly much harder to make it look non-snooping as her glances over Talia.

"I'm out shopping actually. New York has a few speciality shops that are a little more interesting than those in Metropolis. And, I was keeping an eye to the ground about that hullabub at Stark," Lois replies. She grins, giving a wink to the mutant at her table as she brings her coffee up to her lips for a sip. "And please, talk my ear off. I don't have anywhere to be for a while," she quips and doesn't say that said dinner date is cuttently a tub of rocky road and some black & white movies on AMC.

"Oh...THAT." Talia's eyebrows lift to emphasize her words. She slowly takes in a deep breath, releasing it with a shake of her head. "I wasn't there, but I saw that on the news. I was at CBGB last night and a few people brought it up. Some people are really cool about it around here, I guess like being a mutant's a punk thing or like gay marriage for some people." She shakes her head once more, thumbing the heat resistant grip-strip that has been slipped around the cup of coffee.

"Nothing like that came down here last night, though." She continues, leaning back in her chair to square her eyes on Lois. Dangling one elbow over the edge of her wrought-iron chair, she cradles her cup of coffee with a debutante's grace. "I wasn't freaking out too much about it because being a girl you always have to be aware of your surroundings, you know how it is, but I can handle myself. Others, though..." She lifts one of her slender shoulders in a shrug. "Did they ever find out what happened to that mutant kid? All I heard was that the kid was a minor, a mutant, and that something about mistreatment. I'm kinda new in town so I'm not in the social circles yet."

Awesome! A quote from the street. Lois sips her coffee but shakes her head with a soft forwn. "No, actually. I haven't heard anything news worthy yet. I'm keeping my ears open," states the reporter, with a bit of a pursed=lipped-frown which she tries to hide with a sip from her coffee and an aburpt topic change.

"So, what about you? What do you do?"

"What do I do? As in...what is my mutant power? Or what do I do for a living?" Talia asks, repeating the question with the air of 'I'm assuming you meant to say this'. Her eyes widen and her cheeks pull into an amused smile. "Sorry, it's just I don't think it's been established anywhere what the etiquette is for that question, right? It's like asking someone for their age or when they ask you for your weight at the DMV and you estimate by five pounds less, right? I guess I'm assuming." Again, she smiles and takes a long pull from her cup of coffee.

"Don't worry, it's cool, but between you, me, and the fencepost? Next time you ask a mutant that, I think the best way of getting around to that is saying something like: What's your power? Just ask it like you're asking them to show off their new S-phone."

She pauses, bringing both of her knees up to her chest, wrapping an arm around them. "I'm in between jobs right now if you want to know what I do for a living. I'm one of those on the move, wall-crawly types."

"What do I do? As in...what is my mutant power? Or what do I do for a living?" Talia asks, repeating the question with the air of 'I'm assuming you meant to say this'. Her eyes widen and her cheeks pull into an amused smile. "Sorry, it's just I don't think it's been established anywhere what the etiquette is for that question, right? It's like asking someone for their age or when they ask you for your weight at the DMV and you estimate by five pounds less, right? I guess I'm assuming." Again, she smiles and takes a long pull from her cup of coffee.

"Don't worry, it's cool, but between you, me, and the fencepost? Next time you ask a mutant that, I think the best way of getting around to that is saying something like: What's your power? Just ask it like you're asking them to show off their new S-phone."

She pauses, bringing both of her knees up to her chest, wrapping an arm around them. "I'm in between jobs right now if you want to know what I do for a living. I'm one of those on the move, wall-crawly types."

Lois opens her mouth slightly, then closes it with a chuckle. "Well, I -was- going for as normal as possible, but..." She shakes her head lightly. "Yes, there really ought to be an etiquette for it," she comments, then smirks. "But since this isn't an official interview, just making small talk... you're between jobs? What did you do before?"

The question gets a strange look from the girl, who in response glances toward the street. Something about the question seems to conflict her. "I've held a lot of different jobs." Talia replies, looking back to Lois with a smirk. "I used to sing for a punk band. I used to 'temp', too. I spend a few years working for my father. That sort of stuff. I'm not a career type girl."

She motions across the table to Lois, returning the question in a sideways manner. "So what made you want to be a reporter, Lois?" Talia brings her drink to her lips, holding it in two hands. "And what's that like? Is it like the TV shows where you have to scramble to meet deadlines?"

"Singer, temp, faimly business. Sounds exciting. What was that business, if I can ask," Lois smiles, keeping her hands away from her purse and the pen and paper located within. "I like talking with people, hearing their stories, that sort of thing. And sometimes. When I find a really complex story, I usually end up pushing it to the very last minute. Details make the story, after all."

"Sounds hectic and exciting, like a Microsoft Word version of working in an Emergency Room." Talia laughs, eyes brightening up a spell. She bares her teeth in a broad grin, tail swishing behind her. "My dad was a bounty hunter, but we also did a lot of charity work. He's a great guy, really smart, and he wanted to make sure his little girl could get into the family business. So he taught me the skills." Talia grins, mimicking a karate chop. "It was sort of a family thing, so I had lots of aunts and uncles all doing the same thing for a few years. We drifted apart a while back." The sadness approaching behind her eyes is hard to hide as her body language deflates a little. "We had some pretty good times, though."

The swishing tail catches Lois's violet eyes, and the reporter chuckles at the analogy, nodding. "Those incomplete predicates can be lethatl," she quips, a writer's joke. Likely, it makes no sense to any one but another writer. "Any charities I might have heard of, or seen him? If you look anything like him, it'd be a pretty interesting charity indeed," she says, before spotting the slightly deflatting smile. "I'm sorry to hear you've drifted apart. I know that's... got be hard," Lois offers gently, eyes genuine.

"Oh you know, the typical mutant outreach charities, habitat for humanity, and occasionally hanging out with the Hare Krishna types while they feed the homeless." Talia replies, shaking her head wanly. "It's alright, it's been a while. I've gotten used to it. He's one of those types that everyone orbits, one of those confidence inpsiritng types?" It's a question, and when Talia asks it she looks to Lois, trying to determine whether she knows the sort of person. "Anyway, yeah, I've got his eyes and his ears." She chuckles to her own inside joke.

The blue-skinned mutant then goes back to her crepe, taking up another fork-filled bite of lightly syrupped goodness. "What about you, Lois? Do you have folks in town?"

You paged Supergirl with ‘no. new kidlet bed’ Supergirl pages: That's what I meant You paged Supergirl with ‘then, yes. old kidlet bed is too small. new kidlet bed eta 3hours.’ From afar, Supergirl nods. "Josh menationed the new bed was getting delivered Long distance to Supergirl: Lois Lane nod. mom here. moving old bed, cleaning room. grrr.

Personality like the gravity well of a main stream yellow star, confidence inspiring... Yeah, Lois doesn't know ANYONE like that at all. She smiles, faintly blushing, hand moving to tuck a lock of hair behind an ear before she regains her tough exterior and nods once, firmly. "Yes. I know the type."

Jumping on the subject change eagerly, Lois sips her coffee and shakes her head. "No. I'm on my own, and I rather like it that way," she retorts, chin canted up a half inch. Circus pages: Big news happening in the East Village? From afar, Supergirl nods and hugs

"Is that a fact, Lois?" Talia replies, her dark lips curling into a feral grin with a swish of her tail. For the moment, she really does look like a devil. A sing-song humm slips past her lips while she goes for another helping of crepe. "Alright, so fess up, who's this guy? Because it doesn't take an investigative reporter to see you're crushing //hard//, girl." She laughs, fork hovering before her, finishing her thought before the food is devoured. "Is one of the cute and dumb ones or the cute and smart ones?"

Lois's eyes widen, mouth opening. She doesn't have a girlfriend to talk about these things, so the fact that she's called out catches her off guard. "I am //not//," she denies, her hand setting her coffee cup down. Fight the blush, Lolo. Fight hte blush! You paged Circus with ‘Nope. ;) Just chatting.’

Talia sets her fork down on the empty plate, which she pushes to the near edge of the table. "Ohh honey," she starts with that concerned, big sister voice. "He doesn't know yet does he?" She reaches out across the table, pressing a slender hand to Lois' side of the table as a proxy for sisterly comfort. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to embarass you. So is that why you were going shopping; to find something to get his attention with?"

Lois is the big sister, and she's never given that voice, ever. Okay, maybe once, but that's because that one guy was a scumbag. Lips pressing together, Lois brings her coffee to her lips again. She's quiet, but so wants to talk to someone about this and yet. "No, I'm out shopping for myself," she denies again. "Just, a few... odds and ends."

The blue-skinned girl across from Lois has to fight the urge to cringe. So, instead, she lifts her shoulder in a rolling shrug and settles back against her chair's back with her mug once again. "Alright, alright..." She trails off, trying to find a way to divert the conversation to something that won't reduce Lois to a puddle. "...okay, when how about this? I'm a rock girl, so I know CBGBs, but I like to go out and dance and have a good time. Do you know of any clubs here that I can get into? I'm not 21 year, but there's gotta be an all ages place I can sneak into, right?"

Lois inhales and exhales with a not-as-inaudible-as-she-wanted sigh of relief as the topic gets changed. "What's CBGBs," she asks, mind not immediately coming up with an answer. "And I'm not as much of a clubber as I used to be," she admits. Her coffee gets sets back on the table.

"What? I guess we're from different scenes." Talia replies, saluting her coffee in the direction of the buildings to the east of them. "CBGBs is a beyond famous punk bar. That's where the Ramones and Blondie got their start. It's pumped out more famous bands than any club that I can think of in history to the point that when massive bands come to town, like the Stones, they sometimes do surprise gigs there." She pauses, leaning to the side to avoid a larger-sized customer trying to weave through the tables. "So what //are// you reporting on right now, then?"

"Blondie? Really?" Lois sounds surprised. Claerly her reporting doesn't cover the entertainment scene. That's Cat's territory. "That's ... that's neat. I'll have to look it up." She sips her coffee, brows rising at the question. "Oh, a little of this a little of that. In fact, I was thinking about researching some mutant viewpoints on things. Would you be willing to give an interview?"

Talia watches Lois closely from her perch. Her tail sways slowly from side to side, considering the request. One of ther black-varnished fingernails taps the side of her cup. "No last names?" She asks, her brow lifting with the question. "I don't mind giving a viewpoint, but I'm sure you could understand that I'd rather not give anything that could trace me. Also, if we could keep pictures out of this for the same reasons?"

Lois is quick to nod, smiling. "Of course, of course. I understand completely. It's still a work in progress, though, so... yeah. We'll have to schedule something more official." That and she'll be able to look over the rest of her notes and see if there's some sort of universal story here. She reaches for her purse. "I'm going to assume that for hte same reasons you'll not want to give me a phone number, so here. Here's my card. Send me an email and we can coordinate that way."

Taking the card from Lois, Talia turns it over in her hand to give it a quick once-over. "Fair enough, and I //will// email, but it'll be a day or two from now. I'm going to do a little bit of sightseeing, maybe even look for a job." She slips the card onto her S-phone's case, and then offers her a hand to shake. "Well, it was a pleasure, Lois Lane. Have fun shopping and we'll meet again soon?"

The reporter nods, smiling, and reaching out to shake hands. "Yes, of course. I look forward to it. Thank you," Lois says with professionalism and grace.