11660/Your Public Awaits

Your Public Awaits
Date of Scene:	19 June 2022
Location:	Boardwalk - St Martin's Island
Synopsis:	Kian discovered what it's like to be on the receiving end of fandom. Terry gets his tail pulled.
Cast of Characters:	Kian, Terry O'Neil

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Kian has posed:
    Kían likes the Boardwalk.  He likes the seaside (for all of not being a swimmer), he loves the weather now that it's nearly summer, and there's a place a little further up that has coconut chocolate chunk ice cream.
    That's somewhere in the vicinity of flying and his tenár'yw as far as its place in Kían's affections, and if asked to rank them, he would find a way to just not answer the question.
    "We need to do this more often.  I've been here for two years, an' I still feel like I don' know this place some times," he says a little absently—he's not wearing the translator, but it shows how much it's helped: but for a few odd pronunciations and dropped consonants, he's nearly fluent.
    Almost on instinct, he looks around for trouble.  "I just want a quiet day," he sighs, leaning into Terry's side.  "We deserve one."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
    Terry's arm wraps around Kian's waist.  "I know what you mean… it's almost been exhausting.  Not to mention a little irritating with how good Gar just happens to be at being me…."
    He smirks, eyes trailing over the seaside.  "He is lucky that he is adorable, otherwise a dunking in the hot tub is the least of the pranks I could have pulled on him."  We don't talk about the glitter cannon he received from that prank.  "I could have used not having that strange dream, though.  That was just…."  He shudders.

Kian has posed:
    "It was jus' a dream, and you've been under a lot of stress lately so havin' it isn't much of a surprise," Kian says with certainty.  "That's what my therapis' told me after some of the dreams I had after my rhy'thar appeared, an' she was right.  It's how I ignored some of the dreams I had after I ended up on Earth, too.  And that's where I learned what dream therapy I know."
    Off to one side, Terry's superior feline hearing might pick up a few stray scraps of words: "Is that—?"  "Toldja!"—and the scraping of a couple chairs on a tile floor.
    Oblivious, Kían continues, "Túla q'Syr did me so much good.  They really do try to avoid redaction in most cases.  She stayed with me for about half a month and by the time she left, I was fine."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
    "It's a little unnerving—that 'redaction' thing.  Aren't you wary of the fact that someone might consider you 'unfit' for a society and then simply just… you know, re-write you?  Considering you are dating someone who doesn't exactly meet up with their standards, you know—"
    Vorpal trail off and his ear twitches, and he stops talking to try to get more words, but all he gets is the scraping of the chairs.  His green eyes flit this way and that to try to find the source.  "I think…."

Kian has posed:
    Kían shrugs, curling his wing around Terry's shoulders.  "That's why Túla came to stay with me, so they wouldn't have to consider redaction.  I think I might have made it sound worse than it really is."
    He chuckles.  "Truth is, they won't redac' me because they're afraid it would interfere with my rhy—OW!"
    The 'OW!' is in response to an unexpected (and considering the sun, unnecessary) camera flash.  Kían is still dazzled, and can't see who said, "Toldja it was them!"
    Species: human.  Subspecies: fanboy.  Quantity: at least two.  So far.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
    Them?
    Oh dear.
    Terry has not practiced this at all.  In his mind, there are no Vorpal fans, no matter what Donna says.  Beast Boy is the handsome green one who has the awesome power to turn into animals.  Kian is the sexy winged angel man who shoots blasts.  He is just Terry.  And most of the time he walks around civilians in his human guise, which makes it easy for him to blend because the feline face gets the most publicity.
    He is not ready for this.
    He blinks after that flash of light, and essays a grin.  "Oh—er—hey there, guys… is there anything we can do for you?"
    And this is how they get into trouble.

Kian has posed:
    "We are usually us.  I'm not good at bein' anyone else," Kían says dubiously, rubbing his eyes.  If Terry doesn't think of himself as having fans, Kían has even less of a concept, no matter how many times Donna and Gar have tried to explain being a public persona to him.  It sounds too much like being a Rhyták for his liking—although both Gar and Terry saw some of his holos of professional qihár stars when they were on his world, and tried to explain it's something more like that.
    Even so, it's nothing he's used to.
    So he stares blankly at the offered pad and pen, unsure what he's supposed to do with it.
    The count of fans is up to five now.  A voice from behind comments, "Wow, those wings look really real."
    Kían blinks, like he'd been hit in the face with a water balloon.  "They are."  He keeps staring at the pen and paper.  {Terry?  Is this normal?  For Earthers, I mean?}

Terry O'Neil has posed:
    {Oh dear lord, Kian… they are fans.}
    Vorpal knows what to do, because—you know, he's from Earth.  This is part of the culture.  "Kian's wings are very real, please feel free to admire the beautiful plumage, but please do not try to take a feather as a souvenir," the Cheshire says.  Yes, he knows fans.  He has been to conventions.  He was a regular attendee at Hero-Con for years during highschool.  "As doing that is a terrible religious offense on his planet…."  He glances at Kian.  "They want autographs, Kian."
    He gestures to the pad.  "It's a Terran custom—collecting the signature of someone you admire.  And it's an excellent way to practice your Terran calligraphy.  It's usually accompanied by well-wishing messages."
    Of course, it hasn't dawned on Vorpal that he might be asked to sign.  "We'll gladly get you his autographs, if you'd be lovely and orderly, a little line here, just to make sure everybody is having a good time, right?"  He holds a sign that materialized out of nowhere, with a pointing arrow hand that says, "LINE STARTS HERE."

Kian has posed:
    There were already pens and paper being held in Terry's direction; there's a brief and essentially harmless scrum to sort out some semblance of a line, but really, it's kind of cool to be directed by chaos magic, so it settles into something as close to organized as fans can get.
    Which isn't very, but it'll do.
    Kían has been signing in both his native script and in 'translation' in Roman letters below, and even personalizing them in his native script as best he can when requested.
    One hopes Terry will prevent Kían from also writing down things like his email address or the one of the private phone numbers to the Tower.
    This is also about the time that someone makes a grab for Terry's tail.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
    Terry jumps, because the person managed to grab a hold of the tail.  The 'yow' that he gives out is also, decidedly, very feline.  He turns around and, by reflex alone, slams the person in question with a massive glitterball conjuration.  The glitter is the kind that glitters even in darkness, touched as it is by magic.  "DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT touch without permission!  Ladies and gentlemen I have dropped Brainiac's armies with my mind alone, you do not want to sneak up and surprise me because I have been trained by The Amazons!  You are lucky you got glitter!"
    He huffs, and crosses his arms, "Also anyone who touches without permission will get no autographs or photos.  That's just simply rude, who taught you your manners?  I have half a mind to send you to the Queen of Hearts—"
    And, briefly, a 'portal' opens a few feet from them that shows the Throne Room of the Queen of Hearts.  Kian can tell it is obviously an illusion because it shows the old Queen, not Queen Amy.  The Old Queen glances up from her throne and snarls at the person responsible for pulling Terry's tail, "OFF WITH THEIR—"
    And then the portal closes.  "So don't tempt me.  Her Majesty is not pleasant."
    He exhales, and then turns to the rest of the fans after collecting himself.  "That being said, I will let you touch the ears and pet, within limits with a polite request.  So… let's keep our manners, please!  We are more than happy to be pleasant if you will but give us the same!"
    And he tries that famous Cheshire Grin.  His brain finally catches on to the fact that there are pads shoved in his direction and he starts signing, barely really believing it himself, signing 'Hey, (name), Are you sure you got the right guy?  Best wishes and keep on grinnin'—Vorpal.'

Kian has posed:
    Kían jumps slightly—and the fan that was reaching to touch Kían's wing immediately thinks better of it, so Terry's discomfiture wasn't for naught.
    When he looks back, there's a hand outstretched to him.  He's at least familiar with what handshakes are, and he patiently explains, "I should not shake hands.  I'm a telepath, fully with my own people and on contact with humans."
    She continues to hold her hand out.  "I don't mind."
    Well, those are the words of permission, so Kían shakes her hand… and kind of freezes in place, eyes widening.  "I haf to say that is very unlikely," he says as gently as he can manage, although it sounds like it cost him a minor internal injury to do that.
    "A girl can dream!" she says, departing with her autograph and a picture of a most eloquent look on Kían's face.
    Before Kían has a chance to react, someone else grabs his hand.  "That is also very unlikely, but not as completely unlikely as the last one," the birdman lets slip before he pulls his hand back.
    "A boy can dream too!"

Terry O'Neil has posed:
    Terry's expression is absolutely priceless.  "Kian, I think we need to invest in gloves for you," he says playfully as he signs off another pad and poses for a photo with a young woman.  "Otherwise you're going to find out just what kind of thoughts people get when you look like you do and only wear what you wear," he says, teasingly—yes, what he wears may be form-fitting, but it covers most of him!  He is actually quite glad he is not the telepath, there are some things nobody really wants to know.
    He glances at the line and estimates how long they've got.  If people start adding to it, he might come up with an fake emergency call and Rabbit Hole them away.  And then they can come back under an illusion to take their stroll unmolested.

Kian has posed:
    "Well, why shouldn't I wear what I wear?  It's functional, and I look good in it."  Somehow, Kían manages to actually not sound full of himself when he says that.
    "It's true, he does," says an anonymous voice from the line, and Kían spreads and re-folds his wings neatly, with a slightly smug expression.
    While signing another autograph, the recipient comments, "I just think it's so sad you're stuck here and not on your own planet."
    Kían looks at him, tilting his head.  "Oh, no, we have found my world.  Terry is able to take me back and forth, but we don't do that very often."
    "You chose to stay on Earth?"
    Kían poses for a picture.  "Yes, I did."
    Another anonymous voice from the line, with a giggle: "Better let him go, Vorpal, he's obviously nuts!"

Terry O'Neil has posed:
    "You do look good in it, but you don't have to rub it in.  I'm the one covered in fur and I wear more clothes than you—I can't run around in what Tigra wears during the summer because there is serious danger of slippage and that would be one for the tabloids!"
    The Cheshire cat arches an eyebrow at the comment about Kian, and his grin grows wider.  "Why, that is precisely why he is perfectly suited to be here.  Haven't you heard?"
    And yes, it goes exactly where you would expect it to go: "We're all mad here!"

Kian has posed:
    "You could wear the diamo—"  Earth is not Kyshán, there are subjects that are considered too much on this world, Kían realizes before it's too late.  "Never mind."
    The next autograph comes with a request for a picture.  "Can I have it peeking from between your wings?"
    "I would prefer not?" Kian replies, as it strikes him as an odd request.  He goes on to explain, "Almos' everything involving the wings is personal an' usually limited to family-by-blood and—"  He glances at Terry.  "—family-by-choice."
    That dealt with, the next one in line comments while Kían is signing, "I don't know why you two and Beast Boy aren't headlining Metropolis Pride."
    Kían blinks and looks at Terry.  "Pride?"

Terry O'Neil has posed:
    Vorpal laughs, "Oh, right… well, you see, we've been very distracted as of late by things.  One of our team-mates accidentally stopped existing, reality got into a knot inside a very localized space, and then we've been having to deal with things in Wonderland.  So any involvement with Pride got pushed back because of insanity.  But we will be attending Pride, all the insanity willing.  Just, you know, not headlining."
    He glances at Kian and reaches a hand to touch him, to give him a brief download of the history of Pride, and general Gay Rights in the United States.  Poor bird.
    "He's only been here two years.  And there are things you'd think he'd know by now, but being a Titan is far from having a normal schedule… in his planet, people don't pitch a fit about sexual orientations, so Pride never came about."

Kian has posed:
    "Bein' a Titan is far from having a normal life!" Kian retorts, although he's smiling.  "But that is true, nobody cares who is with who, on our worlds.  For the most part.  But that sounds like a festival I woul' like to go to!" he continues with a broad smile.
    He signs another autograph, and looks up with a puzzled expression.  "I am sorry, I have to ask," he says, addressing the remaining people, "an' I hope this isn't a rude question, but… we're only using our abilities to help people.  I don't understan' why that's worthy of attention."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
    Nope, Terry is totally not going to touch that one at all.  No siree.
    Okay.  Maybe he will.  "Well… it's mostly, I think, because of the fact that there are people using their powers to hurt people and we step in.  Even people without powers and guns harm others—and by putting ourselves at risk to stop them, I think some people are grateful.  I mean, Superman could be a very wealthy man if he used his powers just for himself alone—but he does what he does instead."
    The cat shrugs and signs another pad.  "It sucks that there are people willing to hurt others that make us a necessity… but that's what happens when you have free will and are not a planet full of telepaths who know what each other is thinking and can therefore talk about issues before they happen, and don't feel alienated, or spiral into dark paths—"  He huhs.  "I better stop myself before I start depressing myself."

Kian has posed:
    "What you're tryin' to say, is that Earth is weird."  Kían grins, and then looks at all the assembled Earthers.  "I mean, uh, weird like my planet would be weird to you if you were there unexpected.  It isn't objectively weird, maybe?"
    The next autograph recipient gives Kían an understanding smile.  "No," she says, "it's weird here.  Metropolis is wierd.  Gotham is creepy weird.  That's what makes this planet fun."
    Kían blinks, and hands her the autograph.  "You don't mind if I say you have a strange definition of fun?"
    "Not in the least."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
    "We're still working on his sense of fun," Vorpal confides.  As the number of people with autographs has been sated, the Cheshire decides to play his ace now before anyone else can approach them.
    Beep Beep beep
    "Ooops, looks like we've got to head back.  Meeting being called.  Probably a mission—but thank you for being so lovely to us—we love being here at Saint Martin's!"
    A Rabbit Hole leading to the Tower Lobby appears just then.  "C'mon Kian, we've got wrongs to right and potentially pizza to get!"