14899/Catty in the Museum

Catty in the Museum
Date of Scene:	11 May 2023
Location:	Metropolitan Museum of Art
Synopsis:	Scene Ended
Cast of Characters:	Mary Jane Watson, Felicia Hardy

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Mary Jane Watson has posed:
It's a quiet afternoon in the Metropolitain Museum of Art near Times Square. Mary Jane Watson is looking along at things on display. SHe's gone near some large paintings that depict American soldiers over in the First World War. That are trudging through the trenches fighting with bayonets, s potless uniforms, and with clear skies and no mud in said trenches.
    Her attention turns over to other things on display, glancing on some pottery.

Felicia Hardy has posed:
The Met doesn't quite have the razzle-dazzle of the Gala, but plenty of tourists and lookie-loos. Easy marks by any other standard, as far as Felicia is concerned. The white-haired bombshell slinks innocuously through the collection of absolutely remarkable, thrilling paintings with hardly an eye for the canvas. Her cat-eye glasses and white hair pulled back into a thick ponytail give her the look of an ingenue about town, come to admire the glamorous collection just like everyone else. She toys with a ribbon on the hem of her long shirt, flicking it back and forth while she walks at an admittedly dull pace. Slow, ponderous. Just like everyone else milling around, shuffling in order from spot to spot. The military display doesn't nearly interest her so much as the man with the Brioni suit jacket, though casing the details suggests it's certainly a fake, and therefore not worth her time.

"Mmm, scuzi," she lets Italian roll off her tongue, an impish glee in it. Going around the slow-moving couple puts her squarely into the next room, where the redhead examines pots or pans or whatever people ate from once upon a time.

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
THe woman coming in definitely stands out. Mary Jane can't help but stare over for a moment, very impressed. She had seen supermodels up close, she had seen Amazons.. But this woman caught her by total surprise. She would turn her attention over then to follow where Felicia's eyes went. Huh. That certainly seemed a bit out of place ofr her interest.. THen Mary Jane's eyes would turn over to it, taking it in and analysing it. Of course, she can't make out much with craning her neck, but it does make her stand out turning from pots and pans.

The redhead has clearly been marked as curious to the feline fatale.

Felicia Hardy has posed:
Designer trappings don't make the person so much as poise and purpose do. Felicia owns the latter in spades, roaming as one does through a place as captivating as the Met. She goes wherever she feels like, letting whatever catches her eye stop her to elicit a reaction. It's not the signage declaring a famous painter or a little informational poster about what the various presences of skulls or Greek key motifs actually mean so much as colour. Texture, sparkle!

"You have the prettiest hair," she says without looking away immediately from a particularly large Japanese pot from a pre-Bronze Age culture. One big enough to stick a person in, if they consented to adopt the fetal position and let someone stick a woven lid on them. The glaze holds a fiery sheen, but she's already glancing at the warped reflection of herself and Mary Jane. "You must have an Insta account or a stylist who absolutely loves you," she drawls out the vowel, imparting an audible grin even if she isn't so louche as to wear it. Not without stepping aside to let another pot-aficionado admire the massive Japanese work.

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
The actual origins and details of the objects, thier cultural importance means little to Mary Jane beyond the details on plaques in front of them. She would look down over at them with the signs of someone that adored how they looked, even if she didn't know what meaning they had. But just enjoying the details. She would laugh at Felicia's comment.

"Nothing, really. I can't afford a stylist anyways but thank you! I basically use really cheap conditioners and comb it a lot and hope that will hold up." Also she tends to lose clumps of it very often in her day job. Her accent that of someone from Queens. "And I don't have the time for an insta account. Thank you for the comliments though. You definitely put anything else here to shame. You look like you just came out of a Gala."

Felicia Hardy has posed:
Those details matter, glittering in the light set at angles to present each artifact. Showcasing their finest features is the whole purpose of the Met, and they achieve drama through dousing a series of narrow-necked Greek pots and Egyptian perfume bottles in stacked tiers. Delicate beauty and bold, broad-shouldered creations get a sweep of Felicia's eyes, and then she stifles a throaty laugh.

A little. It's still there, poised on her lips. "You have a talent then. Careful, stylists would be so terribly jealous to know you achieve that all on your lonesome." A wave of her finger admonishes an invisible beauty influencer somewhere. "No Insta account? What's this, a unicorn in the wild? I thought everyone had an Insta account. They don't even let you rent without them, right?"

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
Mary Jane Watson would smile over and then glance over along the objects on display to take a review over the items, and then turn her attention back to Felicia. "Thank you. I'm really nowhere near that level but I appreciate it. The ego part of my brain has spiked quite a great deal in these last few minutes that you've been copmlimenting me." She would glance over at the objects once more.

"And I don't have a lot of iterest in it really. I enjoy things with my friends but I don't need to advertise it. It's not going to help me get jobs anyways." She would smile over at Felicia. "So, what piques your interest most here? Or just looking around and exploring?"

Felicia Hardy has posed:
Ever so amused, Felicia shakes her head and sets off a pale tumble of snow in spring. Her ponytail happens to be held quite tightly by the elastics, multiple numbers of the instead of just one. "Just speaking the truth. No need to butter you up." She curls her fingers and drops the ribbon to loosely hang in a rippled spill of black satin against the cream and turquoise shade of her shirt and her capris. "Keep on talking like that, not needing social media, and someone will pop out of the woodwork to interview you."

She winks at MJ and then slows her pace, glancing at the directions for the next room. Nothing of absolute interest there, so loitering will do just fine by her. "It's an art gallery. There's always something good to look at."

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
Mary Jane Watson would grin over at Felicia, "Believe me, it doesn't work that way but thank you. I've done a bit of modeling but nothing involved. It's a hard life and takes a lot of dedication. I want to be an actress but I'm having to start really small. Looking for bit parts in tv commercials, theatre.. They tend to not just put someone in as they're a pretty face." Unelss you want to be Extra #173 or you're expected to be eye acndy for a producer.

"Works for me. I'm Mary Jane." She would offer her hand to shake. "And a pleasure to meet you." The normal indirect request for the other woman to share her name is made.

Felicia Hardy has posed:
"Work," Felicia dismisses it like a parking ticket. "Pursue what satisfies you. Acting must be feast and famine?" She rounds off the words, flashing a wink as she slides her hand into her back pocket and makes loitering look like fashion instead of a crime. Mostly instead of a crime, anyway. "I wish you the best of luck finding your break. Whatever you want that to be, I'm sure they aren't prepared for you." Ripe amusement colours the world in that throaty, low laugh imbued by a good deal of warmth.

The handshake is one she seems to view as a quaint habit of old, briefly offering her cool hand in exchange. "Leesha," or that's the way it comes out. "Mary Jane. Nice to meet you." She winks, for something else is meant to be said in there, but it's the gloss over of a statement.

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
Mary Jane Watson would smile, "Pretty much. A part can come out of nowhere, and also might come to nothing. You're not really going to be getting your rent from two or three gigs a month. And a long term show in a theatre is not going to pay you a lot either. And if you have other jobs it means you have to be able to drop them at any point if you get in something. You need freedom to audition, to prep.. Doesn't lend itself to long term anything."

She would smile over at Felicia and shake her hand, "Pleasure to meet you, Leesha." There is a very, very light quirk of a brow - something is just ever so slightly evaded there. But she can't put her exact finger on it and Sonja doesn't care.