Asuryan

The next afternoon, Falcon Kitiara arrived in front of the doors in Kings' Row with a perfectly clean outfit, and a nearly perfect landing, closing her eyes to enhance her concentration; her flight was as natural as the rest of her abilities: for quite a long time she had believed that only heroes relying on magic, or their mutations, or some tech gadget, or again the latest discoveries of science, could be able to fly, so for the same period she had thought that some nordic divinity had granted her the power of flight.
Upon arriving in Paragon City, though, she had met lots of people at E.L.I.T.E., which had explained to her how a natural hero can learn to fly, hover, and even grant these powers to other people. It was enough to substitute the mystical reverence she felt while flying with a deep meditation; on one hand, it had been a bit sad discoverying that no god or goddess had taken a personal interest in her, on the other hand it was much more exhilarating to fly, knowing that this power was hers forever, and not lent from anyone. Her control had greatly improved since then, and there had been times when she was called upon to save a less experienced superhero stuck inside a dangerous security zone, granting him the power to fly as well and escorting him to the nearest yellow line station.

[OOC no need for me to clarify it as I'm sure you guessed it, she has all flight powers, all heavily slotted to enhance speed and reduce endurance cost.]

As for her clean costume, she had fought Riktis, with their acid - dissolving monkeys, and nemesis, and waded into a sewer as well; but she was wearing another of her costumes, and this one was not only cleaning, but almost sparkling with light.
Golden, folded combat boots, a snowy white skirt, snowy white thigh trousers under it. Skirt and trousers decorated on the sides with golden tribal symbols. Golden V belt, white shirt with a round hole in the middle, leaving an ample part of her breasts and her tattoo clearly visible; the lines of her tattoo were traced with magical inks, because they had changed their color and were now light and dark golden. She had long elongated golden shoulderpads, but her headpiece stayed the same, as well as her hair and her face. Her aura had changed as well, it was fuller of light, white pure rays; every time she put this costume on, she felt positive and in a happy mood, maybe because she was helping some other heroes against Vazhiloks and outcasts; but her aura quickly became red again whenever she losed that feelings. And the evening before, she was... tense, to say the least. However it may be, she put her hand, now protected by a small, white glove, on the handle, and went in. Her cape, the only thing that wasn't perfectly white or golden in her attire (red on the outside, with black tribal symbols, dark grey on the inside, with the same black tribal symbols) waved behind her gently.

[OOC yeah I know I know, I like to describe my costumes, so what? By the way, her face you can see in the avatar, I finally figured out how to upload an image on imageshack!]

She went inside the bar, and sat on a bar stool, waiting for her turn, and casually listening to rock hopper's words. She turned her eyes (and very slightly, her head) toward him when she talked about the French: since she couldn't see his face, she didn't know if he was joking or not.
So it was with a certain caution that when Narshawn came to her, she asked for "...A Chimay Rouge, please"; she was wondering how the other hero would react.

[OOC this way rock hopper can jump in or not, as he wishes Chimay Rouge is a french beer, double malt, red, done by trappist friars in their abbey. She doesn't know if they have it here, but she'll ask anyway.]

Falcon Kitiara watched intently as Jing took a small piece of both her meals and ate them slowly but deliberately; she wasn't so naive as to think that this was a common use of Paragon City, and assumed it was a japanese custom. She also thought it was very kind from Jing to display her abilities for her benefit: she had no idea that it had been her waiting to prompt the display. She nodded thankfully when Jing said that her food was safe, and they started eating.

"So you didn't see your parents for ten years? That's not the school I had in mind... it must have been lonely. It seems that both of us have had a very different childhood than that of most children today. But perhaps, this can be said for all superheroes... or most of them."
She chewed her meal with good manners, never getting her mouth too full, never drinking with a full mouth, and of course, always chewing with her mouth closed. She came from a wild forest, but she was well versed in the basics of courtesy.

"It would be nice to know your associates. I'm sure they will be great company, as you are." she sipped another cup of tea, then said, apparently without looking at any watch "It's becoming late... I'd wager, around midnight. Soon the place will close down for the night. But I hope to see you again around here; it has been a true pleasure talking to you."
She was at the end of her main course, and seemed more rested now than when she entered the restaurant at the beginning of the evening.

[OOC: Kitiara has an innate sense of time, since she lived so close to the rhytms of day and night while in the woods. She is a lvl 31 broadsword - superreflexes scrapper, by the way, so her gestures and movement are precise and almost feline, quick and coordinated.]

Kitiara looked at Jing while she handled her broadsword. She noticed the slight scars on her left hand: at the beginning she thought of combat scars, then realized that there really was no true reason the scars should've been only on the left hand and not on her arms too, or the right hand.
But it would've been indiscrete to ask. Perhaps a side effect of her training?

While Jing kept her sword in her hands, Kitiara followed the glowing red runes on the hilt with her eyes. They weren't circle of thorns runes, they were very ancient viking runes, which she couldn't still translate. She didn't know exactly why they were glowing, she could only assume it was some kind of magic at work.

"I've heard that being proper and avoiding offending someone else are the most important thing in japan. That's very different from my childhood. Imagine seeing only your parents for the first twelve or thirteen years of your life. With a whole natural reserve all for me, I was truly free, if a bit alone."
She looked at Jing in the eyes "And I'm sorry that you couldn't experience that freedom yourself, when you were a child. That freedom, and my forest, are two of the things I miss the most."

True, in the middle of the forest, she thought, certain things weren't important. The proper way to use a wooden spoon, to serve tea: nature couldn't care less about such things.
But nature could be hard and unforgiving nonetheless... she felt, again, blood on her hands, freezing cold against her shoulders, the rain, the lightning bolts. She shook her head to chase away the sensations, the vivid images, from her mind; this wasn't the right time. Later, at home, it would've been. Her eyes for a moment had become dark and full of a subterranean river of melting fury... but they quickly became again as calm as a clear summer sky. She hoped she hadn't worried her companion, and said again:
"I never went to primary school, nor to high school. So I can only wonder what people talk about when they talk of school, homework, discipline, and so on. Sure, my superhero ID solves every problem my lack of formal education may cause, but still... It's like there's something I don't know and I will never know, when people talk about their studies, I can understand only partially."

She took the card Jing was offering her.
"I will make sure that the women who need assistance know about you, you have my word" she said solemnly, tucking the card safely away.

She waited for her newly found friend to start eating, before she started too...

[I still haven't decided what's written on the sword. I will decide it later, as well as the optional sword powers; it's not the sword that make her so lethal, she would hit as strong without the magic, so I'll have to create something less standard than the usual Sword of Skuls Killing +5 ]

Falcon Kitiara heard the voice speaking Norwegian, which she could very well talk and hear even if her parents had taught her mainly the icelandic dialect. She answered in English, though, mainly because she didn't want to make the japanese lady feel like she was left out.

"Thank you, I'm glad you liked it when you visited it" she said with a smile. "I've heard that a friend of yours just made it to security level 50, congratulations!"
She motioned slightly towards the asiatic girl "This evening I have company, but perhaps we will meet again around here one of these days. I look forward to it".

[Kitiara is really interested in Jing Jiang's past, so she will stay with her for this evening. However should she see Sweetthang around again next days, she will surely greet him and, if he offers, join him ]

Falcon Kitiara had by now decided for a Mushrooms of season appetizer, and a Kaesespaetzle. After she ordered, she went back to the conversation.
She couldn't help being relieved that the japanese lady wasn't paying attention to the stains and wounds of her attire, and she started feeling more relaxed. She joined her hands under her chin, in an almost childlike movement.

"So you was raised to become a courtesan? I thought that was a thing of the past. I had no idea that this kind of training is still taking place in your country."
Her voice was curious, but not offensive.
"I would certainly like to share your tea. And, yes, if you are interested, I would love to talk about scandinavia with you."

So, while they waited for the appetizers and main courses to arrive, Kitiara started talking, hesitant at first, then more fluently, sipping her tea every now and then.
"I remember... walking in the woods, since I was little. Bathing in the ice-cold water of the rivers... no one there, but my father, my mother and me. Their status of researchers granted them permission of living inside a national reserve."
A small sip, and again, the eyes of who is remembering fond memories.
"There are trees so high, they can compete with most offices and houses here, and some were high enough to reach the point of some skyscrapers with their top leaves. To climb them is one of the funniest thing a little girl can do, along with swimming in the rivers and walking around."
Another sip, another small pause.
"It's not the safest place for a family: there are wolves, and bears too, and both mooses and deers can become very aggressive when in their reproductive period. But neither wolves nor bears attacked us; if you respect nature you can become one with it. Wolves don't attack humans if they have plenty of other food, as it was the case, and the same can be said for Bears. As for deers and mooses, I watched them from a distance... didn't want to disturb them."

"My father" she said after only a slight hesitation "trained me to be able to survive and fight for myself. My mother taught me to read and write, mathematics and phisics, biology and ethology, and so on; I think she missed a bit her position as an university professor. However, I like to think that I've made both of them happy."
A smile.
"Seeing a newborn bird just recently hatched from its egg, noticing a deer drinking from a stream, watching a hare eating grass without it noticing you are there, these were my pastimes. We had no TV in our hut, and still to this day I don't watch it; it can't manage to fascinate me. When I want to relax I read, or I fly on top of Eastgate heights in Hollows, where there are trees and no Circle of Thorn minions."

Then, as the appetizers arrived, she watched at Jing with a worried expression on her face.
"But I'm the only one talking. I'm really sorry, I've just been carried away. Me, I'm very interested in hearing about your courtesan training. How was it like?"

[OOC: Kitiara has no qualms about showing her the broadsword, she will, however, inform Jing that the weapon is not in the best display conditions. That is because she fought a lot today, she cleaned it from the blood by wiping it with a cloth, but the smell of blood lingers.]

Falcon Kitiara said goodbye to Gal, then turned toward Jing Jiang, her cloak gently waving with the movement; the scandinavian warrior maintained her exterior coolness, even if she was conscious of the blood stains on her trousers' thighs, of the worn black leather of her gloves and boots, of her wild hair, unkempt because of a hard day of fighting Riktis. On the other hand, Jing Jiang's clothes were so clean and elegant.

Nonetheless, Falcon Kitiara was a proud person, and felt inferior to no one. She considered bowing herself, but instead offered her hand to the asiatic woman: this was a greeting she was more familiar with.

Relaxing on the chair, and getting a hold of one of the 2 menus on the table, Kitiara answered "I come from the scandinavian woods, near Nykkjen... in the northern Norway. I don't know much about cities, though... never saw a city, or a village or a hamlet for what matters, before my 16th birthday."
She smiled, a nostalgic light in her emerald eyes; with the mind's eye, she could again see the lakes, the mountains, the great woods, the landscapes of her childhood.
"But what I don't know about cities, I more than make up with what I know about the wilderness."

She looked at the menu, trying to decide: there were so many choices! And everything sounded delicious.
She looked at Jing Jiang again and said:
"You seem to me to have all the confidence, posture, and clothes, of a person used to the city ways. What is your home town?"

[OOC: your italian is really good three years? I hope you visited tuscany too. I live there you know!]

"It's not a problem for me if this friend of yours wants to sit at my table. Thank you again. My name is Falcon Kitiara." the warrior, revealing her battle name, extended her right gloved hand toward the massive tanker owner, and flashed a sincere smile. "A pleasure to meet you."
The mix of nordic accent and formal speech was strange but not unpleasant.

"Could I hang my sheath and sword to the back of my chair? I feel safer if I can keep my weapon near me, even if sheathed." she asked discreetly.

(OOC it's nice when americans greet me in italian. There are many who try to do it, it's really kind of you all )

The warrior answered to Gal's hand sign by lifting her own hand in a simple greeting gesture. She wore long black leather spiked gloves. Even if her speech was accented, her english was understandable.
"Good evening" she said "I'm new to this place... and this is the first time I go inside a restaurant or a bar, since I'm in this city..."
She paused, as if fearing of speaking too much. Her shyness seemed strange on such a strong muscular woman.
"However it's very nice from" she paused and corrected herself "for you to personally greet the patrons here. I would like to dine, if there are still tables available."
Her tone, and her bright eyes, spoke of a long solitude, and perhaps a desire for friends too.

The woman with the broadsword noticed Beth getting hold of the leather bound menu, and listened carefully to the waitress' words when she addressed her.
The warrior was a bit confused: this language, this city, this whole *nation* were new to her. She was in america only since 2 or 3 months, and lots of things were still unknown to her; in fact, she was always wary, and a bit unsure, whenever someone addressed her. Now, for instance: what had the waitress meant when she had said "sisters"? Perhaps this Gal (the owner of the place, reading the flier) was scandinavian herself, and the waitress had recognized her as one thanks to the pale shade of her skin. It would be wonderful to talk Norsk again, thought the warrior with a smile on her lips.
With this thoughts on her mind, the warrior followed the waitress with a voice full of nordic tonalities and a "Thank you". Her right hand put the ID back in her pocket; a real quick eye could've read on it:
"Falcon Kitiara -
- Security Level 32."

(OOP: she's a stranger, and an honest person, she would never want to abuse a waitress' error... if only she had understood this was one )
(thank you for the welcoming Sibling!)

Another woman went inside the antechamber: she kept her distance from the group of superheroes in front of her, so it was evident that she wasn't with them.
She took her time to sheath her weapon behind her back, an impressive and heavy-looking broadsword, hilt engraved with slightly glowing blue runes. Her skin was very pale, her eyes a deep green, similar to a nordic wood, and her long, straight hair was red, a fiery red. No ponytails, no pigtails.
She wore a brown leather brassiere, that managed to keep her ample bosom well covered and firm enough to fight without feminine problems. Apart from the brassiere, her chest and arms were bare, revealing powerful muscles, and here and there, very light scars too; the skin between her brassiere and her neck displayed a bright colored tattoo, blue lines (similar to a fan, or to spreaded wings) gradually turning to purple; the colors were bright even if the tattoo seemed pretty old. She wore brown leather trousers, with slits on the sides, tucked inside tall black heavy leather boots with some kind of yellow symbol on them.
Her headpiece was a yellow tiara, with wings at the side of the head; the point of the wings was red though. She also wore a long cape, black with yellow lightnings on the outside, red with the same lightnings on the inside; the blood red light that came from her was enthralling, but not disturbing to the eye.

The woman clearly had sustained lots of fights that day. Her trousers were sprinkled with dried blood on the thighs and knees, and even if she had taken care to clean the wound, one of her bare shoulders presented a large band-aid. All in all, she was a beautiful woman, but with something savage in her look, something dangerous in the way she moved and walked.

But now, this fighter was looking around, and her eyes almost seemed lost and doubtful, perhaps ... slightly frightened? But by what? This place was safe, and her posture seemed relaxed enough that she wasn't expecting any attacks. But the shy and almost lost look in her eyes lingered.
She went near the podium, but not too close to the group in front of her, and politely waited for her turn at a small distance.