Asuryan

I only have 1 character, however:

Falcon Kitiara, Natural Scrapper, lvl 34, broadsword, super reflexes. Most loved power: Flight.

She has strong bonds with nature. Doesn't love noisy music with lots of BPM or crazed percussions. She has a savage beauty, a pure heart and a feral but romantic soul. So the best song to describe her is...


* Spirit, Stallion of the Cimarron - Main theme: fly like an eagle *

(the one heard at the very beginning.)

The first thing that comes to mind is Green Lantern.

Green Lantern Hal Jordan was a sad man. When he was a boy he saw his dad dying before his own eyes. Before he became a green lantern he had a car accident and his best friend was paralyzed because of him. Then because of his inexperience as a green lantern, he caused the death of lots of people and friends, when a supervillain destroyed everything following his tracks.
He is not only sad, but also uppity, no-nonsense, he feels disgusted when someone tries to be a buffoon.
And he is the most loved green lantern, the one with the most shrines on the web.

Green Lantern Guy Gardner is the exact opposite; he loves to joke, he uses his ring's power to create scantily clad women and other things that are almost always a comical relief. He attacks his enemies charging them frontally while shouting cowabunga!. He enjoys life and lives with a passion.
And he's one of the less loved Green Lanterns, lots of readers simply hated him. Why is it so?

Because we are used to heroes with tragic backgrounds. Batman: both parents died. Superman: both natural parents died, and his earth father died too. Spiderman: no parents, his uncle dies because of his being a jerk. Punisher: all family dies.
The "classic" storyline is that the hero is a normal person but then something tragic happens and his pain helps him becoming a better man, with altruistic feelings, and some kind of vow to defend and protect and so on.
However I don't feel the need of creating only dramatic characters with sad stories, I create a bit of everything, I like to experiment. It is, mind you, a stereotype of superheroes, like capes, like masks, like spandex, so it's not unusual to see sad stories around, and there's nothing bad in it. It's like complaining because in AD&D (2nd ed) there are too many fighters with full plate armor and two handed sword, or because the wizards all know Fireball. Some things never changes, and this is somewhat reassuring. Feels like home

[OOC Steve and Falcon are doing their things in PM, but if someone wants to know what is happening to them, well, just say so and me and sibling will decide together what to do and how to do it. I for one, know that I would like to know how things will go between Manion and Beth! Go go Manion! ]

Falcon Kitiara opened her mouth to insist that she wanted to pay her part of the dinner, then she looked deep in Steve's eyes; his stare was proud and calm. She suddenly somehow knew that insisting for paying herself was probably akin to insulting him, perhaps he would've thought that she was insisting because she felt he was poor; the last thing that Falcon wanted was running the risk of offending him.

"All right" she said instead "Thank you, it is very kind of you to pay for both of us."
Together, Steve and Falcon walked outside the place, Kitiara took care to bow her head slightly to Martin when they passed near him, nodding her leave. Once on the street in front of Gal's place, she put her hand lightly on Steve's arm, and they started walking toward Atlas Park at a pleasant pace; Kitiara was sure that muggers and bandits in Kings' Row and Atlas would've let her alone (as they always did) out of fear, and hoped that they had in them the sense of leaving Steve alone too.

[OOC: Sibling, now it's up to you Falcon is high level so they shouldn't attack her, if you wish the walk to be peaceful Steve will be sidekicked and bandits will ignore them both, if you want to spice up the walk with a fight feel free to do so!
Another thing you have to decide as the master of this thread; since the rule is "if something happens outside gal's place one can talk about it only as a memory while in the pub" (if I've understood well) how do you want to play the walk and (as soon as they arrive in Atlas) the flight?
Just tell and I will follow ]

Falcon turned toward Steve as she heard the sound of his steps and voice; she stopped her leaning on the bar, and couldn't help feeling flattered when he bowed.

"Well, before going out, I'd like to pay our bill. Yesterday the staff lost mine, so I don't want to go away without paying what we ate this evening, and leaving a good tip too. Do you know how it's done?" she seemed uncertain "Perhaps I can fetch Martin... or I could wait for him in the antechamber, in front of the podium."
No hint of doubt in her voice that her bill hadn't really been lost the night before. They had told her so, and since she thought the staff to be made of truthful people, they could've told her that the sky was red and she would've looked up to check. She was too green to city ways, or for what mattered to human relationships (exception made for her parents, when they were alive), to already be able to grasp the concept of white lie.

"Flying, yes. You will see, as soon as we arrive in Atlas Park. I know it's a bit of a walk, but the train will get us there quickly. I know you won't be frightened by high speed and acceleration... your past makes you expert enough to know those things better than me, I'm sure."
Her tone was light, too light to be referring to his accident, a thing that she was avoiding carefully since it brought him bad memories and sorrow; she had been careful to speak of Steve's past, implying that he did have a present indeed, and that present was now.

[OOC she has no idea he went to pay the bill, so she wants to pay for it (or at least, her part and the bill of the night before) before going out; after all no one has brought the bill to them this night (or did them?). A notice: should she discover that the staff didn't really lose her bill the night before, she won't think them untrustworthy, she'll just be a bit confused and will ask why they told it if it wasn't so. She isn't so quick to distrust people ]

Falcon Kitiara nodded to Steve.
"I'll wait for you here while you talk to Gal then. Take your time."
Then Steve headed toward the kitchen; the warrior walked slowly toward the bar, and put her arms on the living wood surface. She sighed of both relaxation and satisfaction: the evening had been very pleasant, and she was sure that flying together under the moon would've been the best of all endings.
She turned toward Narshawn, and was happy to see her talking with Magnus; the ice girl had worked hard all night, she deserved a bit of company too.
She smiled to Narshawn when she turned toward her and turned her eyes quickly on Magnus, then on Narshawn again. However, she didn't want to interrupt them, so she turned away her head, and toward the center of the room, looking at Gal's place, so full of people, no, of heroes.

Falcon shifted her weight to the left leg and slightly bent her right knee, so as to touch the pavement with only the point of her boot; she waited for Steve, humming very quietly to herself. Was she supposed to ...take his hand to help him adjust to the speed and weight absence? Or was it too much for a first date? Questions, questions...

[OOC: I don't know what b-ball is however, Falcon is too eager to show Steve how to fly. The following evening she will surely take part in it, her Super reflexes should help if using superpowers will be allowed
And I'm waiting for your answer, sibling, don't think I just abandoned ya all! ]

[OOC I fully understand, as a player, but the character doesn't have my knowledge, and she simply isn't used to all this: dating, clothing, and so on; so she acts accordingly.
I will assume then that they have already dined, since they ordered their meals lots of posts ago.]

Falcon answered Steve, after just a moment of thought: if finery was the problem, perhaps he would've needed time to choose and buy clothes of his liking. She had heard that shopping sometimes required long hours spent walking in front of shops, or going inside and trying lots of styles before at last choosing one.
Or was the long hours thing only true for women?
"Let's say, in three days, if that's all right with you. It will be a pleasure to dine with you again."
She stood up too, picked up the sword and strapped it to her back, under the shining cape. Obscured by the whiteness of her attire, the sheath was almost invisible. She then turned again toward Steve and asked him, jokingly "It could be dangerous for a lady to walk alone at night. Would you be so kind as to walk me home, Steve?".
With her security level, kings row was as dangerous for her as a pleasant meadow. But she was slowly discovering the pleasure of, occasionally, playing the role of the lady; Steve was so good at making her feel like one!

[OOC if he walks her home, she will wait for them to be far from Kings Row (full of dark fetid smoke) and in Atlas Park, so nice when seen from high above, then activate Group Fly and show him what she meant with flying without machines; she loves flying and will gladly share this experience with a person she deems worthy of it. Sibling: you choose if we shall describe this flight together as a memory that Steve, or Falcon, or both of them, will stop to think about in 3 days.
However it is possible that discussions arise at the moment of paying the bill, since they both want to pay it ]

"There are heroes that remember they are people. Only, they are a minority. I guess that is because having superpowers makes them feel different, or because their training as heroes has precedence on everything else. I do admit that I started my fight because of revenge only, but I almost immediately felt the joy of fighting for other people; being the weapon for the people that have none."
Falcon Kitiara shrugged the sadness away; what did it matter if she had been alone until now. Now she wasn't, as she hadn't been the evening before. Maybe it was the place, or the fact she was ready to have relationships now that her revenge was a settled matter.
She was more inclined to think that it depended mostly from the place. It's not that she hadn't tried to go in places that (they had said to her) superheroes visit when they want to relax from a hard fight; she tried the dance party, or something like that.

That hadn't been a pleasant experience. Almost total darkness, pink and blue rays of synthetic light piercing the air like blades, smell of perspiration, of smoke, of closed air; and there had been a repetitive, heavy music, perhaps with a slower rhythm than Metallica, but at a much higher volume.
And then someone had tried to grab her breast, whispering to her that he wanted to see her naked: she had slapped the guy with all her strenght, sending it against the nearest wall with a smashing sound, and went out of the place.

"Oh, you are not rushing anything. I would really like to dine with you in the Restaurant. I can wait for you here while you get dressed."
She was happy that Steve felt as she about superheroes, and it seemed that by now he wasn't caring anymore for the color of his blood. That was good: she liked him better when he wasn't ashamed of the social level he had a century ago. She was sure he would quickly discover that his social level had changed with his change of time.
From engineer to hero; in no time people would start calling him to speak in talk shows. She was sure about that. She only hoped that they wouldn't call him to speak at Jerry Springer's.

Falcon's smile became a little sad, then disappeared.
"It doesn't matter to me if you are a trainsmaster or the son of a king, I don't judge a man by how much blue is his blood, but by his actions."

She made a little gesture with her gloved hand, as to encompass not only the bar, but the city itself.
"I don't know if it is because I'm not american. I don't know if it is because I always bring with me a sword so heavy that an untrained man would have problems lifting. I don't know if it's because I don't often visit the places associated with meeting people, like rave parties, cinemas, discos, pubs, and so on. Perhaps a bit of everything. But I often have the feeling that normal people feel too much respect for a heroine without a secret identity, as I am, to even think about a relationship, be it friendship or love. And heroes..."
She shrugged, her pointy golden shoulderpads followed her move.
"Most of them are just running around, searching for criminals. It's like they thought that it's all there is in life. Everything else doesn't matter, their eyes are set on evildoers, not on women from other countries. I can't blame them: there are so many criminals in this city that it almost seems that every moment without fighting is a wasted moment."

No matter the reason, I am alone, she thought. Like the falcon, hunting alone, living alone, so different from seagulls living in flocks. Perhaps when she had chosen her battle name she unconsciously had thought not only to the pride of the noble bird, not only to the elegance of its flight, not only to its quickness and deadly accuracy, but also to its loneliness.
She mentally reprimanded herself again: what if Steve would've thought her whiny? Damn. This dating thing was harder than they made it sound.

"I'll give you that chance. When we'll end dining, and talking of course, I'll take you with me for a flight. I'm sure you will like it." she pictured Steve flying for his first time, and smiled again...

Falcon thought a second. She had noticed that her guest had become much more tense. Perhaps his memories; had her talking about killing remembered him about his accident?
She mentally reprimanded herself, she had been blunt.

"No, engineers nowadays are not like you." she said with a firm tone, completely convinced of what she was about to say "They are neither as pleasant to dine with, nor as chivalrous, nor as brave as you are. It would be a true blessing if they all were like you."
She smiled, hoping that she had settled the matter.

"Airplanes are much quicker than ships or trains. I used one to travel from Sweden to America, and it only took it 8 hours to arrive here in Paragon City. However, people travel inside the airplane, as people travel inside trains. There are comfy chairs, kind ladies serving you drinks and food, all in all it's a pleasant experience."

Her smile became almost dreamy.
"But it's nothing compared to flying without machines, as real birds do."
Then she focused her stare on Steve again, and she straightened her back as her idea came out of her lips before she could stop it.
"Would you like to try it?"

[OOC Falcon does have group fly, and would like to offer Steve a fly by two after dinner. ]

"The Great Lady?" Falcon thought about it for a second "The Liberty statue you mean? Yes, it is still there. It's the symbol of the city of New York. One of the symbols of the city, at least."

She nodded toward the engineer, hair waving "Thanks, I would greatly appreciate another one."
3 Chimays weren't enough to take their toll on her, the bottles were little, and a single liter of beer was something she could drink without any problems.

"I don't know if a hundred years ago there were already airplanes. Those are giant machines, able to fly from america to europe and even farther, resembling in shape a dragonfly, and they can carry with them lots of passengers."
She looked at him smiling, her eyes shining from the beer and the aura.
"Engineers nowadays are in control of airplanes, as you were in control of a locomotive. The gist of it hasn't changed, what has changed is just the appearance. The only real difference is that an airplane sails through the skies, and a locomotive rides on the land."
She ignored all other differences, like fuel, aerodynamics and the rest. As she had said to Steve, those were only details.

"Lots of things that existed a hundred years ago still exist to this day, but under a different name and shape. Your watch, for instance - people are now using smaller watches, tied to bracelets for quickness of use, and call them wristwatches. Or guns: guns today can shoot faster, bigger bullets, with more accuracy, than the ones yesterday.
Their purpose however remains the same: killing."

She paused, waiting for his reaction. She felt relaxed, and was enjoying the evening with Steve. Her right hand touched slightly her cape, to adjust it on the back of the chair.

When Steve made the stones and leather remark, Falcon's eyes went wide, and her pale cheeks became tinged with red.
Her parents had taught her how to behave properly, how to speak european languages different from Norsk, and the rules of politeness. But they had died before they could've explained to her other things, like dating, or how to react to men's flattery. This was completely new for her, so her reaction was quite different from her other ones.

"I... eh... what? Really?"
She was aware of her cheeks' warmth, and that wasn't helping her a bit. She tried again, her voice less firm than usual, while her fingers fidgeted nervously.
"Why thank you... I mean. It's... the same for me."
She took a deep breath and ordered herself to regain her composure and snap out of it.
"Why do you think I would've asked you to stay here with me, if that wasn't so?"
Her cheeks were still of a darker pink than her usual shade. But her eyes had stopped wandering around and got back on Steve's face.

Then Gertrude arrived, and Falcon answered Steve's question: "Mushroom appetizer, and the Special of the day. I'll let you decide the drinks".
Then she crossed her legs again, again relaxed, even if perhaps a bit embarassed about her early reaction. She hoped she hadn't made too much a fool of herself.
"I'd like to know something more about your life a hundred years ago; reading about it in history books and hearing something more about your past are bound to be very different things, I'm sure."
She was wondering about horses. In Paragon City one couldn't have a horse, and in Trondheim she didn't have the money to afford one; but she had always been curious about the sensations of such a ride.

[OOC: It's no problem if his manners are slow about women. Should he be more "actual" and ask her to have sex at the end of the evening, she would react rather badly. Since this is her first experience, her shyness sets the pace for her, and it's as slow as Steve's pace, for now.
I have devised a new system to play COH and post at the same time: first, as soon as I have time for myself, I check the posts, and answer if there are some for me. Then I play, I do a mission, then alt+tab and I click the refresh button. If there are new posts, I reply, if not, I keep playing, and so on. It works for me ]

Falcon Kitiara didn't want to listen to what Steve and Gal were talking about; she fully concentrated her sense of hearing on the music coming from the juke box, that by now was giving out a slow, romantic song, "Stand by me" she thought it was the name.
Her eyes watched a bit Steve's form, his clothes, his head, his moustaches. It was the first time she dined with a bald man, but it wasn't an unpleasant experience.
Screw that, it was the first time she dined with any man at all. She didn't want to think too much about it though, it made her feel... inadequate. But she had always been too concentrated on her revenge to care about such things, plus in the woods there isn't much choice of partners, unless she wanted to dine out with a reindeer. She never felt the need to have a private life, her revenge was everything she needed.
Or should she say, her revenge had been everything she needed. But now her revenge was over, and her white aura spoke volumes about the peace she had reached.

She stopped her daydreaming when Steve came back. He was apologizing.
"Don't worry. So, have you decided what you would like to eat?"

[OOC: Falcon is lvl 33 but she has 4.000.000 influence (is a celebrity of course), of course she could pay for them both and buy him an elegant tuxedo or such. But he's proud, so she won't.
By the way, is it just me or Sibling's avatar isn't visible?]

Kitiara smiled, her eyes became relaxed again, and her posture and voice did the same. It seemed that she wouldn't have had to leave the place or to dine alone after all; unaware of the tension that her tone had put in the man, she waited for him to pick up the menu.

"As I was saying, Martin has advertised the house's special for the evening. I think I will try it, perhaps before that I will eat a mushroom appetizer." she looked at his face while he picked up the menu "What do you plan to choose? Fish or meat?"

She said good-naturedly "The service I require from you is just your company for the night, provided it's something you are willing to give me." Since she said that without a hint of malice, it was very difficult to think she had meant something sexual in nature.

She didn't mean to force him to do something he wouldn't want to do.
But if all that worried him was the thought he wasn't enough well clothed for her, she wanted to put it out immediately. He should've seen her with her battle clothes after a long day of fighting in the sewers, sludge and blood and sweat mingling on the leather. She wasn't the kind of girl to turn away a man just because of his clothes.

While he spoke with Gertrude, an idea came to Falcon's mind... Something for the end of the evening.

[OOC you'll see... it's something nice ]

Falcon Kitiara looked sternly at Steve, and she pointed at the chair in front of her.
"Sit down."
Her tone was firm, her eyes hard.
"You are not cause of any fuss, and Martin said that I can dine here in the bar if I so desire, and there are no restrictions on clothing for dining here. Well, I do so desire. And I wish that you keep me company."
She now pointed at Steve's chest and, pointing it, touched it lightly with her right index.
"This working man is the man I want to dine with tonight. The dining room can wait."
She kept her eyes fixed on Steve, and added
"If you plan to go away, just so I can go and dine in the dinner room, I will leave Gal's place for the night, without dinner. So don't even think about it."

[OOC: She wants Steve's company more than an elegant dinner However, the main reason behind her leaving the place should Steve go away, is that she doesn't like dining alone in restaurants: it makes her feel lonely. And even if she's dressed elegantly this evening, she doesn't have a suitor to turn to if he goes.]

Falcon Kitiara was getting used to the irish accent of the man, and by now she could understand almost everything he said; she saw him flaring when he talked about helping crime victims, flaring because of the people that simply walked by. She could understand him perfectly: these were the feelings she had experimented the first times she fought against muggers; now she didn't feel so strongly against those people, but still there were times when she felt enraged just the same.
She could understand that normal citizens would wish to stay out of trouble, one of those criminals was enough to kill a non superpowered person. But these people weren't even going to use their expensive mobile phones from a safe distance to call the police. Now how coward could that be?

"There are, in fact, some heroes that aren't quite human. Have you seen around people with horns, with tails, with scaly skin? Human beings don't have these things."
She sipped her beer and licked her lips to dry them.
"It's not to cause offense to them, mind you! But we can't say they are humans if they aren't. However their not being human doesn't mean they are not people; no matter your race, the color of your skin, the horns on your head, if you come from space or if you come from another time" she raised her glass toward Steve, winking, as if suggesting a toast to him "what truly matters is your sense of justice. Your... if I may call it so... honor."

She then looked at Gal getting near, and greeted her with a nod of her head and a polite smile.
"Thank you for your words, ms. Gal; let's say that the outfit I wore yesterday needed rest more than me. Everything is great, as usual: both the service and the company."
After a hidden glance to Steve, she said to Gal "I would surely enjoy dining. What about you, Steve? Do you need a bit more time to choose your meal?"

Falcon Kitiara was listening Steve intently; Azuria, how many times had she brought to the magic researcher some strange baubles. Glowing crystals, capes, books, and every time Azuria was quick and efficient with her analysis.
So Azuria had brought Steve to her laboratory, or at least, his mortal remains. But why? Perhaps a dream, or a vision, had told her to do it? Poor man. So many things he ignored, and probably would've never discovered; the name of the entity that brought his soul back, the ritual that Azuria had cast.

"I don't know how bad crime was a hundred years ago." She was taking great care in avoiding words like "Your times" or "your world" or "Your age" with Steve. She didn't want to support the idea that Steve's world was a dead one, of him belonging to a grave or a museum; she wished him to feel that the world he was in now was his as much as hers.

"But this city really has lots of criminals, and many of them with special powers. Controlling flames, as you do, or other elements, or minds, or using their powers to come back to their feet fully healed after you knock them down." She shakes her head. "Our contribution can really make a difference here."
"It seems to me though that you already found something to do here in Paragon City. And you say you fight to protect women? How... chivalrous." she spoke the last words with a smile: she hadn't thought that there were people like him in the city.

"Thank you, I certainly would" answered Falcon to Steve. She brought a hand to her hair and adjusted a fiery lock that had lowered to one of her eyes. She wasn't sure about what his words had meant, but she liked them nonetheless.
She held her glass in her right hand, and with the left one she reached for a menu, but she just brought it near, without browsing it yet. She was curious to hear something else about Steve.
"And what did you do when you woke up in this world two weeks ago? I'm sure that the story of your first days in Paragon City will be as fascinating as the story of your locomotive has been."
Her green eyes were filled of a genuine curiosity, her back slightly bent towards him.

[I agree with Gal, no one goes away here, so far all the posts of the thread have been great reading ]

Falcon Kitiara thought for a moment about the man's words. She quietly answered:
"Outside this city... There is a reason why I told you I come from no city; my land is the great northern scandinavian forest, and I don't have a throne as nature is her own queen. I saw my first city as an almost fully growned-up woman... I left my woods, my land, seeking for revenge."

Her gloved hand tensed around the glass: she knew better than to break it, nonetheless her aura dimmed while her words hovered in the warm air of the pub. She looked at the beer that the waitress had brought her, seemingly pausing to ponderate what she was about to say.
"I wanted revenge, and I followed my enemies here. I worked hard to discover their identity, and when I managed to do it, the brakes were off."
A pause.
"They paid."
Some red rays gushed from under the white ones.
"They all paid. I killed no minions, no lieutenants; but to the leaders, I caused suffering and torment, I made them cry and beg for mercy before I turned them to the police."
A slight smile crept on her face. Her eyes, though, didn't seem to be ferocious, or dangerous, or torbid; no, that was the look of a woman that was remembering some fond moments, as another woman could've remembered a lover's embrace. She could hear again their screams. Their wailing, and supplications, pleading eyes, and the smell and color of blood flowing; even the taste of rust in her mouth, due to an archon's kick that broke her two ribs. An archon on his hands and knees trying to squirm away from her, another one almost prostrated, with tears flowing down his face mixing with blood.
Happy memories.
The red rays in her aura disappeared, and its color turned back to pure white again, even if dimmer in intensity; she took the glass of beer to her mouth and gulped down a good half of it, throwing her head behind. Her hair moved on her shoulders, and her winged headpiece sparkled reflecting the light of the pub.

"I hope I have caused you no discomfort. My story is not an happy one. In fact, now that I've had my revenge, technically nothing binds me to this city, and I could go back to my forest as quickly as I want. However..."
This time, when she recalled, her eyes came back on Steve.
"However, while I was searching for hints, and was training to enhance my powers, I did discover that in Paragon City there are lots of people in need. I really can't understand why, since it would be logical that criminals don't stay in a city so full of servants of justice. Perhaps the moment I discovered the common people behind the superheroes is the one I've heard a woman crying because someone had stolen her purse."
She shook her head.
"Such a simple thing, a purse. But for that woman, who knows? Perhaps inside that purse there was a wallet with all her life's savings. Perhaps there was a single photo of a long lost relative. Or a wedding ring. Or a love letter. Who knows? However she was quietly weeping near a phone booth, she wasn't even crying for help, she was certain that her purse was lost forever, and that no one was there to help her."
Her eyes were now proud and feral: a fire burned inside them, as it had burned that day.
"I could see the criminal. I ran behind him, subjugated him, gave back the purse to the lady. Her face... her tears changing from desperate to joyful, her thanks. She couldn't stop thanking me, the poor woman."
Now her smile was sweet. This was also a fond memory.
"And the days passed, lots of days before I could get my revenge. And I saved other women, other men, even older people, someone from a robbery, someone else from being abused, someone else again from a beating or extorsion. The light in their eyes when they see you running to their rescue, when they feel they are protected, that they can count on someone, that light is the reason I'm still here.
There are so many people I can help. My powers are developing, and perhaps some day I will be able to fly so fast I will be able to reach my woods and come back quickly to help again, but until then, and for now, my place is here."

If Steve was observant, he could've noticed behind her, and under her cape, a sheathed sword, dangling from the chair. The dull leathery colors of the sheath were difficult to notice, since the attention was easily attracted by the white light exuding from Falcon's body.

She hardly noticed that Gertrude had brought them 2 menus, since the evening was on and it was almost supper time.

[Long post this one but I hope it's appreciated. About flying to scandinavia and back, I'm thinking to the Ask Statesman's post when he said that they plan to create some european locations to visit. Woo-hoo I had forgot the sword, but Falcon is not the type to forget it around. Let's just say she had it under her cape.
And it's not too hard to understand that her enemies were of the Council. Of course Steve's bound to ignore that. ]

Falcon Kitiara sat down while Steve strided toward the jukebox. She listened at the music that he chose, ending her beer with a last sip from the glass, and looking at the engineer's raptured expression, turning into a shaken one as soon as he came back to their table.

She listened to his story: the song had been interesting, but his words were enthralling. His impressions, his memories, his feelings: the song couldn't express all that as well as his deep, rich voice was doing. She watched at his eyes, determined to see his emotions transpire while he was talking.
The lighting glowed on his bald head, and underlined the gold parts of Falcon's attire. Her aura of white rays danced around her fingers, and melted on the glass she was toying with.

And then Steve stopped to drink, and she decided to order another Chimay to Gertrude; her liver, working better and faster than most, quickly assimilated and processed the alcool she drank, as long as it was from something light, beer or wine. This man was used to drinking: it wouldn't have hurted to drink with him.

"Your story is fascinating. So did you woke up only 2 weeks ago?"
Was she the woman she had been 3 or 4 years before, she wouldn't have believed him, and thought him a madman. But one of things she had learned in Paragon City was that this kind of events wasn't so strange as one could think. Once she would've never believed that a man could fly with pure concentration and force of will, but.. here she was.
Plus the little tendrils of steam coming from his nostrils every now and then seemed to confirm his tale. There was no point in being skeptical.

"It seems that to be free, you have to find the descendants of the people that died that day. It's a hard task, but not impossible. Some historians are bound to have some reports and newspapers from that time... perhaps you could discover the names and whereabouts of the victims."
She looked at him with an enigmatic look on her face, and asked
"What would you choose then? Living or be able to pass?"

Falcon Kitiara's eyes had followed the man while he got nearer and nearer. She had smiled slightly, feeling a deep empathy with him: his eyes, his confused gaze, he was just like her when she had moved her first step in a city, at 17. Even now, sometimes, she happened to have that exact same gaze in her eyes; and when the jukebox played the Metallica song, her puzzled look spoke volumes about metal music full of bass and battery, sounds that in nature aren't found anywhere. Fortunately her table was pretty far from the juke box: for a woman trained to hear the slightest sound of leaves or bushes in the woods, to distinguish a bird from another and reproduce their singing, it's a very slow thing to get used to this kind of music.
Her enemies knew that, since she now had a reputation among villains, and often used her weakness against her using shrieking, piercing sounds, or very noisy rhytmical ones, to stun her or immobilize her; there were times when she couldn't do anything but hold her head and ears with her hands, fight against the painful noise, and avoid being hit.

Kitiara looked at her soon-to-be companion: she didn't know if the red color of his skin was due to some accident on his work, or if it was natural; she had read a lot about indians when she was little, but she didn't think that this man was one of them. His accent, however, was something of a surprise for her, she had overheard some superheroes using it amongst them while they waited for the metro to arrive, but she had never paid much attention, since it isn't polite to overhear others' conversations.

She noted their little discussion, and heard most of their words: her fine hearing wasn't just a weakness; the expression on Steve's face spoke of embarassment and feeling inadequate... his movements did the same thing, even more than his words. She smiled and waited for them to get nearer.

"Falcon Kitiara, yes, scandinavian - northern Sweden, not too far from Lapponia if you would like a more precise location, but I can't really point a city. A pleasure to meet you, mister Steve." she smiled and with her left hand she removed the right glove. She held out her hand for him to shake, and her eyes went big as plates when he kissed the back of her hand, and it wasn't for the surprising heat of his body.
Of course she had known about this custom, read about it somewhere, but she had only read about it, she had never thought that it could happen to her too, and was delighted from it. Her eyes and her smile betrayed her feelings, and when he let her hand go, she waited a bit before putting her glove on again. She gently waved her hand toward the chair in front of her, inviting him to take place.

"So, mr. Steve, you are an Engineer and a Trainsmaster? It's not much time that I am in america, so, can you tell me something more about your profession?"

[OOC she puts her glove back on neither because she is uppity nor because she's ashamed by her own calloused hands. She's too used to having them on almost constantly, and they feel comfortable; psychologically, having her gloves on gives her a feeling of being more protected as well, but these are nuances that won't emerge until way later of course she removes them when the situation demands it.
I've also decided to give an explanation of the times she has been immobilized, held or such (she doesn't have practised brawler so she doesn't have a particular immunity to this kind of attacks); the usual "mind attack" thing seemed a bit boring, so...]

Falcon Kitiara wasn't wearing her right glove when Gertrude arrived: she was using her right index and thumb to pick up a pretzel now and then, and bring it to her mouth. Her naked hand had delicate features, short palm, long graceful fingers, short fingernails. An elegant hand. But if she had turned her hand upside down, one could've seen the hardened skin, lots of calluses under the fingers and on the fingerpoints, traces that her broadsword had left her, signs of a very hard training and a constant daily use. Coincidentally, even if her hand was unsuited for fistfights without using at least a padded glove or a hard leather one, it was perfectly suited for slaps and all kind of hits using the palm of her hand.

She brought to her lips her fingers and slightly lapped the points, a spontaneous gesture that her wild past had left her, then she used a paper towel to dry them, and put on her glove again.
"Yes, bring mister Broady here, please." she replied, crossing her fingers together. His name was of course unknown to Kitiara. She now knew that he was bald: she was curious about the rest of his features as well.

[Of course, Kitiara doesn't mind the wooden bowl; she has thanked gertrude as politely as always when she brought her the pretzels About James Steve Broady, very good interpretation is on the way since not only the character but also the player knows nothing about him ]

Falcon Kitiara answered the Penguin hero with a smile: "I'm sure you didn't want to offend. I'm not french myself, but I do come from europe. I have a bit of confidence with americans' remarks on frenchmen, though, so I know it's usual to hear them around... once I teamed up with an hero that had to make absolutely sure that I wasn't french before we started our patrols." she shook her head, more amused that annoyed at the though, sipping her beer.
Then she nodded toward Rockhopper to take her leave while he went to join his friends, and she answered to Martin, hoping she hadn't taken from the maitre too much precious time.

Falcon listened to Martin's words, then she replied "I will be glad to dine with the gentleman you're talking of. I'm sure I will enjoy your hospitality as much, if not even more, than I did yesterday."

While the man strode into the restaurant she nodded toward Narshawn, and said "Thank you for your advice. I hope that it won't be necessary for you to personally serve me, I wouldn't want to slow down your work here at the bar." she passed her gloved hand on the living wood as if caressing it, as she would've done inside a forest, caressing the gnarly bark of an ancient oak.

Then with a slight bow of her head, she chose one of the tables near the wall, and she sat down, crossing her legs, and accommodating her cape so that the very end of it rested on her thighs, and stayed as clean as snow.

[OOC are some snacks, like peanuts, chips and the like, at the table, or should one ask for them? If the second is true, she has also asked for some.
By the way, the bit about being or not being french really happened to me. "Hey you're not french aren't ya??" LOL - he could've kicked me out of the team! Some people. ]

Falcon bowed her head slightly toward Narshawn "I would like it cool, if it is possible, thank you.". She looked at the ice lady with attention, admiring the way her features cracked and melted, then were born again like her home's glaciers. "I'm sure it would be no trouble for one as gifted as you."
She took care of waving slightly towards Beth, enough to make sure that Beth knew she was greeting her, not enough to make Beth think that she was calling her, and distract her from her duties.

Falcon rewarded Martin's appreciative comment with a sincere smile; after all those long, lonely years in the woods, she wasn't used to appreciations and compliments as lots of young women of her age were. She was also pleased that Martin's had recognized her, even if he had seen her only once; yes, she liked this place each day more than the day before.
"Why, thank you. I'm not expecting anyone" she said, not betraying any emotion with her expression, but with a very slight pause after these words "but I would like to dine here at the pub this evening if it is possible, in a couple of hours let's say. I'll follow your suggestion about the Prime Rib - I'm sure it's going to be delicious."

She paused slightly, then she asked "...If miss Jing Jiang is here, I would like to greet her. Could you tell her that I am here?"
She wasn't really interested in watching the football matches, and since Jing's company the day before had been really pleasant, she would've liked to repeat that experience. But also talking with someone else was an option; she was sure that anyone Martin would bring her, would've been a pleasant company, as Jing had been the night before.

Even if she had fought all day, 'til morning, and felt her muscles aching, she had found that coming here after a hard day of combat was more relaxing than practising meditation in the loneliness of her small apartment.

[OOC Falcon has no mask, her face is plainly seen, she has no secret identity, and is a full-time hero. This causes her no problems, since she doesn't have a family, or friends, that villains can kill or torture to get their revenge, and her apartment is well shielded against incursions.]