13504/The Title Of That Irene Cara Song

The Title Of That Irene Cara Song
Date of Scene:	05 December 2022
Location:	Belvedere Castle
Synopsis:	Sight-seeing is a fun thing to do, unless you end up being the sight being seen.
Cast of Characters:	Kian, Terry O'Neil, Gar Logan, Colette O'Connail, M'gann M'orzz

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Kian has posed:
    "Now, why haven't we ever visited here before?" Kían asks, peering out over the parapet on the uppermost level of the castle.  "This is a very pretty view, even if it isn't very high!"
    Yes, well, Kían has a different concept of 'very high'—when you can fly, forty meters down to the rocks and another forty to the lake isn't a whole lot.
    True, the bird has had a lot on his mind lately, between unexpected genetic reveals and fresh orders from the Imperial family, so it's good to see him in a chipper and upbeat mood.  "We need to get out more often.  And I like New York.  The winds between the buildings are incredible!"

Terry O'Neil has posed:
    "Because every time we plan to do something, someone tries to break reality or something like that and we have to settle for post-fight take-out?"  Vorpal smirks, arms crossed.  December in New York doesn't hit him as hard as June in Metropolis because of his natural fur covering.  He can even take the luxury of walking around in his regular uniform instead of his winter add-ons.  Well, at least for a few more weeks, anyways.
    "It is very pretty, too. You know, just a ways off down the park, there's an Alice in Wonderland statue. They got me wrong, of course, as usual. But then again, that's not news."
    The cat is decidedly more upbeat than usual as well. Being let go from the Planet clearly left him spinning without a center. Outside of the superhero side to his life, his personal life has felt a little... aimless. There's been a lot of laying around on the couch and staring at the ceiling, or listlessly sitting at the table with the word processor open and nothing being written. It's been an unsettling experience for him.

Gar Logan has posed:
    Gar Logan shrugs at Kian.  "I dunno.  It's just one of those things.  I've been here before, but maybe just not with you."  He's in casualwear today, but it's a few layers to help account for the wintry weather.  He twiddles his thumbs as he looks out over the expanse of Central Park.
    "I was thinking I might be able to turn into a gargoyle and perch over there," he adds, gesturing toward one of the corners of the castle, "but I don't want to freak anyone out.  I can still do this."  He becomes a small green bat, circling around to make a pass of Kian and reach a wing out toward his hair, then land upon Vorpal's shoulder and try to look all brooding.  "I'm Batman.  Well, just Bat."
    It's rather forced, even for him.

Kian has posed:
    Kían chuckles at Gar's display, and reaches over to pat the little green flying thing.  "Batbat, maybe?" he suggests.
    He leans on the parapet, and flexes and folds his wings—he looks like he too is thinking about taking up a perch on the corner, but he keeps his feet on the floor.  "I suppose they didn't ask you to pose for the statue, Terry… and I bet they probably were made even before you were the Cheshire Cat.  And it's going to have to be some sort of crisis to get my attention."
    Wingflick.
    "No, it's not, if something happens we'll do what we always do.  So I'm just going to hope nothing happens."
    Someone with very sharp hearing might hear something that sounds like, "Hey, is that—?"

Terry O'Neil has posed:
    "You are The Night, indeed."  Vorpal reaches out with a smirk and pats BatGar.  "The less we draw attention to ourselves, the better.  We already stand out wherever we go.  But then again, that's what you get when you've got such a looker with you."  He smirks and puts his hands on his hips, tossing his head back just a little.  "You know, chilly days like these always make me crave for crepes and hot chocolate.  Have we gotten you to eat crepes yet, birb?  There's a place nearby that does fruit crepes with chocolate drizzle that are just… mwah.  Right Gar?"

Gar Logan has posed:
    The green bat accepts the patting in both cases, but flits off of Vorpal again to land back as himself once more.  "It's pretty much a statistical impossibility for us to not draw attention to ourselves.
    Gar licks his lips.  "You had me at chocolate drizzle."  His hearing is not super-good like this, but it's still better than normal.  He glances toward the feline with a question on his face, to see if he's pinged on to it.  "You hear something?" he asks.

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    Colette is dressed in her idea of casual wear, which consists of a pretty casual jeans and red sweater combo, accessorized with suede calf boots and a knee length woolen coat that between the probably cost about three months salary for a high school teacher.  She's sitting on the wall of the upper terrace, watching Kian with some amusement.  "You could fly up to the top of the flagpole," she suggests.  "That would earn you a few extra meters."
    She shrugs her shoulders a little and looks out over her shoulder at the park.  "People try to break reality all the time, yet somehow it's still standing.  I guess that means you guys are doing a good job or something."  The delivery is flat.  So flat you might not notice that her words sound almost like approval.  No doubt she wouldn't want people thinking that she did actually approve.
    "At least there are no angels invading here, and Metropolis isn't being infested with Wonderlanders.  Or at least any more than the normal Terry infestation that we're used to.  Honestly I was beginning to think I was going to have to move to Gotham earlier this year, and that was a depressing thought.  The bats there are a whole lot more serious, as well as being less green."

M'gann M'orzz has posed:
    Freckled redhead Megan Morse has been at the castle for most of the afternoon.  Unobtrusively settled into a corner near one of the inner walls of the terrace, she is balancing a sketchpad on her knees as she attempts to draw the parapets and scenery beyond and maybe also Colette not having quite pieced together exactly who she is drawing with how absorbed she is in the process.
    That is until some snippets of conversation reach her ears.  "Angel invasion, Wonderland, what?"  She looks up from the sketchpad.  "Oh, hello!"

Kian has posed:
    "I don't know what those are, but fruit and chocolate always are a good thing," Kían says with a smirk, "although you'll probably have to Rabbit Hole me home.  If I can have them.  I—"
    He breaks off, recognizing Colette's voice.  "Colette tavár'h!  It's been a whi—ACK!"
    The cause of the failure to complete that sentence?  Kian is suddenly facing things to sign and excited voices.
    "It's the Titans!"
    "Will you sign my book?"
    "Can I have a feather?"
    Kían isn't the only one noticed—it's not easy to overlook either a green man or a cat man, and the fannish hordes invade the spaces of Terry and Gar both.
    Colette and M'gann have at least the opportunity to look on with bemusement as the boys are assaulted by fandom.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
    "Oh please, Colette, Angels?  That is so… Spring of '22.  Eldritch abominations are all the rage now.  I thought you were someone who kept up with fashion."  Vorpal gives his friend a toothy grin.  "You wanna join in on the crepes?  I'm thinking we need to find a place that does vegan crepes, because, you know—"  He waves towards Kian—
    Who has now been intercepted by someone wanting him to sign something.  Is Kian being served legal papers?  Wait, is somebody suing Kian?
    The cat stares.  "Oh no."  It's worse.  It's…
    Fans.
    As the hordes of the living fanboys advance towards them, Vorpal turns to Gar.
    "This is your territory, Gar.  What the hell do we do?" he says, reaching out to take Gar's hand, which only causes a squeal to come from some of the fans.
    "Oh god," Vorpal mutters.

Gar Logan has posed:
    Gar Logan maintains a level of politeness around Colette—they've had some interactions in the past that have varied in how it's left Gar feeling—and he gives a quick wave over to another familiar face, if not green right now.  "Hello, Megan!" he calls over, particular in his choice of words.
    The chance to properly respond to much else is interrupted by the group of fans that comes upon them.  Out go his arms to either side of him, then he cracks his knuckles after bringing his hands back together.  "Watch and learn, boys.  When people want autographs and pictures, you give the people what they want."
    A grin spreads and he waves them on in a welcoming manner.  "What's up, everyone?  How's it going?  Gather 'round, but don't crowd too much.  There's time to get to everyone!"

M'gann M'orzz has posed:
    Megan blinks as the swarm of people gathers. For a moment she's confused but then she recognizes at least one of them and it makes sense, Fans, probably Gar's fans she assumes, only partially correct.  "Hi Gar!" he calls back before he is surrounded.
    Folding the sketchpad closed, she puts away her pencils in her bag and stands up tucking the pad under one arm.  She doesn't battle against that crowd though, for the moment she just stands back watching how they deal with the onslaught.  They're not in real danger, right?  It's just a consequence of being famous, right?

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    Colette's not admitting where she came from.  Perhaps she was just in the area.  Perhaps Terry tipped her off that the Titans would be there.  She's obviously perfectly content to just insinuate herself into the gathering, rather like a sly comment who's cynical import might not be instantly apparent might insinuate itself into an innocent conversation.
    And then there are fans.  Colette cannot help a slight roll of her eyes.  She slides herself along the stone balustrade a little to keep herself out of the press of autograph hunters, and looks over to Megan with an expression that neatly merges patience and impatience into a singular contradictory whole.  "Hey Megan," she says.  "How's life?  Been attacked by any more random space probes lately?"

Kian has posed:
    Being intellectually prepared—and he and Terry have faced fannish hordes before, on the Boardwalk near the tower—and being emotionally and realistically prepared, are two different things.  "I—yes, of course, I can sign autographs," Kían says, albeit more than a little dubiously.  On the plus side, it's better than being prayed at.
    As has become his custom, he signs in both Akiár'shak script and in English.  If Colette has a view, she will hopefully be pleased that his handwriting has improved.  It clearly reads "Kian t'Kaeh" and not "(scribbly mcscribbleface)".
    "You're making this look too easy, Gar tenár'h," he comments, then squawks sharply and hops up onto the parapet, oblivious to the drop behind him.  "Don't grab for my wing!  You will not have a signing for that!"

Terry O'Neil has posed:
    "Er—okay, people, no groping, no grabbing, no de-feathering!" Vorpal says, growing bolder in order to call the attention of the rabid fans.  "Respect our space or next time Brainiac comes around, we'll send him over to steal your car.  But no, really, not cool—look, but don't touch.  We're people, not a petting zoo—"
    He looks at himself, then Kian, then Gar, and adds, "Appearances notwithstanding."
    He gestures for the autograph seekers to come closer so he can sign, but he is secretly flashing 'haaalp' eyes at Colette and Megan.  He adds, "Are you guys sure you want my autograph and it's not Felix the Cat you're looking for?"
    Does anyone even remember who that is?

Gar Logan has posed:
    Gar Logan expertly scribbles his name on souvenirs people have come up with, though a lot of it is on some scrap of paper or brochure or whatever else looks good.  Getting photos is easier to do, and the green Titan hams it up for every picture that's requested, within reason.  You get the jokers who ask silly questions all the time, and how you handle that is a skill in and of itself.
    "Yeah, no feathers, keep the hands respectful, and everyone will be happy.  I can neither confirm nor deny any rumors about petting zoos, though," he states for the record.  A glance toward Megan is added in.  Didn't this happen the last time they saw each other, too?

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    Colette meets Terry's gaze, the stony blankness of her eyes replying 'no' while the wry grin on her lips replies 'this is what you get for being a superhero' and 'I told you so.'
    She reaches into her pocket and pulls out her phone, grabbing a short clip of the Titans being swamped by autograph hunters and sending it to her Insta, alongside a short message reading 'Hanging with some Titans.  Can't take them anywhere.'
    Colette pockets her phone again and turns pointedly away to stare out over the landscape of the park below, patiently waiting for the hubbub to end.

Kian has posed:
    Kían continues signing autographs, now that his rear flank is guarded from overenthusiastic fans, quietly declining offers of hugs and handshakes because he really doesn't want to hear what their minds have to say.
    "I still don't understand why you think of us as anything special," he says absently.  "We only do what we can thanks to the abilities we have.  And you don't need special abilities to be a hero, you just need to pay attention to the world around you.  The woman over there, Colette," he says, nodding in his tavár`s direction, "saved my life when I first arrived on this world, pulling me out of the water I'd landed in."
    There's a crowd 'ooo' and a bit of a surge in her direction.

M'gann M'orzz has posed:
    "Life is okay Miss O…" M'gann corrects herself, remembering Colette asked her not to call her that the last time they met, now that she'd graduated.  "…Colette.  I'm taking a drawing class this semester so I just came here to try and work on some landscapes."
    M'gann is cut off though, as before she can finish catching up with her old teacher the crowd of fans has now been directed in Colette's direction as well and M'gann just sort of takes a step back as she contemplates becoming invisible lest a similar fate somehow be visited upon her.

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    Colette watches the small surge of interest in her direction with a look of bemusement more than anything else.  Then people start asking her questions.
    This is not allowed.
    Colette raises her hand, fingers spread wide in a 'stop' gesture.  "You're all misunderstanding his point," she explains in a firm voice that no doubt she has learned in the fierce front line of the classroom.  "I'm a life guard.  Kian fell into a swimming pool and got his wings tangled up in a floatation ring.  I dragged him out.  He's explaining that many people in their every day jobs do things that could be classified as heroic."
    The surge de-surges.  Colette arches an eyebrow at Megan and shrugs.  "Drawing class?  I remember you liking drawing at school.  You were often doodling in lessons, with the annoying excuse that you'd already finished your essay."  Colette flashes Megan a wink.  "Maybe one day you'll become a famous artist," she suggests.  "And be flocked by hordes of admiring art fans hunting your autograph."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
    Vorpal signs as politely as he can, and he secretly makes a note to himself to tell Kian not to put his life at risk by attracting the wrath of The Meddler in such a way!  But right now—
    He blinks.  As he poses for a photo, something catches his eye.  Two figures, flying high above at incredible speed.  One of them, he recognizes.
    "—Troia?"
    And then a message comes through, from Troia.  One that isn't urgent yet, but which gives them a good excuse.
    "Sorry everybody, we have to break this up."  He touches a hand to his ear to indicate he's received a message.  "Kian, Gar, we're on call.  We've got to head over to the tower so… let's vamoose!"  He winks at Colette and Megan.  "Rain check on those crepes, yeah?  Gar, Kian, do you want to do the honors?"  He holds out his arms.
    Yes.  They can rabbit hole there, and they will probably do so once they are out of sight… but the fans are there.  Why deny them the sight of three Titans taking off into the sky?
    Even if one of them has to be carried off by two winged ones?  It's the thought that counts.

Kian has posed:
    "I fell into the bay, and you pulled me out—it wasn't a swimming pool," Kían says, a little shocked at Colette's… well, let's be generous and call it an inaccuracy.  "And regardless of whether your version is true or mine is, I would not be here but for you.  Although I admit her point, everyone can be a hero without special powers."
    Anonymous voice in the crowd: "You can't swim?"
    "No, not with these wings.  I am not a penguin.  Isn't there a penguin in Gotham that causes Batman trouble?  I am not him either."
    And then—Terry gets his attention, and he grabs Terry's hand.  "Apologies, everyone, but our job needs us!"  And yes, Terry can sense Kían's awareness that putting Colette on the spot and then contradicting her may have been a less than brilliant idea….

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    As the Titans vanish upwards, they can hear Colette's voice fading into the distance as she explains to the crowd.  "He's a terrible swimmer," she's telling them.  "But especially when he gets drunk, and boy does that bird get drunk.  Thing is, being an alien, his biology is different.  He can drink enough alcohol to drown a bear without any ill-effects, but Kool-Ade?  That stuff is like raw spirits to him.  He downs it by the jugful, and it leave him reeling.  And if the Kool-Ade wasn't bad enough, you should see how…."
    But alas now the Titans are out of earshot and the remainder of that anecdote, even less factual than the original claim that she's a lifeguard and Kian had fallen into a pool, must forever be a mystery.
    There may however be some connection to the fact that in the following days there's a surprising number of packages arriving at Titans Tower for Kian, each one containing a bottle of Clorox.

Gar Logan has posed:
    As some of the crowd finally begins to disperse, Gar starts in the direction of Colette and Megan.  "So now that that's getting to be over with, it's been a while.v How goes?"
    Check that.  Vorpal's got a straggler who wants a picture, and as he looks up to track what the cat's seeing, he shares a quick glance with Kian.  Before he can say something to that, his phone rings.  The tone for this particular number is set to the Star Wars Imperial March, but why?
    "Hey, Ste… I mean, dad.  Yeah, they're with me right now.  Yeah, the castle in Central Park.  Of course we're behaving.  We're in public.  Jeez.  What gives you the idea we… no.  I'm not a kid any more.  I… dude.  Why would you even say that?  I've liked them since… okay, I'm not doing this with you right now.  Fine, whatever.  I don't care.  Look, we just got a thing we have to respond to.  I'm hanging up now."
    That doesn't sound like it went very well.  A little too quickly, Gar puts the phone away, says very tersely, "I'll see you guys back there," and without any other warning or another look at any of them he morphs into a peregrine falcon—good for speed—and takes off into the sky.

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    "Hey Gar," Colette starts.  "Pretty much as it ever was, things are…."  She's interrupted by the phone call, and gives Gar a small gesture to indicate she'll wait.
    It's not that she's listening in to Gar's conversation, it's just that it's close by, and the side of it that's audible paints a picture.  Colette's brows knit momentarily into a troubled frown.  When the conversation ends and she turns to speak to Gar, he has taken wing to follow Kian and Terry to wherever Titans go to.  Perhaps they're flying south for the winter.  She watches him recede into a green dot in the sky before turning to Megan.
    "Never become a super-hero, Megan," she tells her former student with a slight shake of her head.