16254/That Smile is Glowing, or Are We in a Nuclear Power Plant

That Smile is Glowing, or Are We in a Nuclear Power Plant
Date of Scene:	04 November 2023
Location:	New York Abandoned Nuclear Power Plant
Synopsis:	No description
Cast of Characters:	Harper Row

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Harper Row has posed:
Harper had a drink at the bar, but what she was really looking forward to was some carbs. And while she might have been one of those offering drinks here and there, she'd been observant enough to know when no thanks means no thanks. Damn but that bar still had her ears faintly ringing. By degrees she had managed to come into Negasonic's orbit and a tenuous connection made, and so here she was, the after party of the after party.

Harper cranes her neck to scope the place and then reaches up with a free hand to cradle its recovery back to full use. "O.G. Gotham, but I get around. If I'm in a hurry and speed limits are only suggestions, my bike gets me back and forth in time for...y'know, work and shit." she says by way of explanation, a bit of a speed bump in the middle.

The Gotham gal has teased her hair back into some semblance of style, after it got all scrunched by the helmet and given a tumble-dry after her spin-out. "This place should be under a dome of concrete from the looks of it. Sweet baby jebus, I bet you a coke there's a warren of rats of NIMH in this place."

Dressed down from the Derby, she's got her own leathers, some biker boots and her piercings back in her face. A glint on her tongue suggests one such there as well. She lets out a whistle, the extra silver stud allowing for a curious accent to the climbing and ralling note like a shrill slide whistle.

"This city your stomping grounds? Not this place in particular I mean...though that'd be pretty metal."

Harper Row has posed:
With a little rummaging around in a jacket pocket, Harper retrieves some of that sweet halloween candy she's secreted away. The gum is gone for sure. The rattle of smurties or Skuttles in a little box that her nail tears the edge off of. She upends the box into her mouth to consume half the obloid sugar delivery units. "Motorcycle yeah. I'd have offered a ride but it's friggen good to stretch the legs after all that round 'n round and then flattening my ass at the bar." Her other hand palms her back pocket to assure herself her little fob-tag is there for retrieval or location. A little self-patting like she deserved a paddlin. "You totally need some wheels. This is something that swerves into my lane and into my wheelhouse. It's pretty affordable to jumble together into something...with a little scrounging."

And Harper comes up next to Negasonic and the fence in question. "Jeez, you'd think they'd wanna keep miscreants out or something with something like this." She chews and offers the remainder of her box of candy with a shake-shake. "I'm already a mutt, junkyard dog, so what's the chances the fleas I could catch in here are full of rads?" she offers a wry grin next. "Never been to Genosha. Let's do it. Love it or list it. See if this place has got potential for a future Flip. I like weird. I can use an extra nipple."

Harper Row has posed:
An uneaten Smurtie peeks past her lips as she observes Ellie, like she was poking her tongue out. "Mini-hulk...haaa...gonna remember to use that next time I need to annoy Pamela. Bet she does hulk out when someone knocks over something in her greenhouse." Hello, what's this? The candy dips past the point of no return and falls to the ground, a food bomb for any passing insect looking to score big. Her foot trods on it with a ~scrunch~ as she takes another step back and the phenomena of energy dances and plays over the other woman's body. "Fffffff-".

The hairs on the back of Harper's neck shoot up and her eyes widen, muscles tense. The reminder of the artful hit on her during the Derby also wants to have a word. She flinches as the metal chain suffers far more than herself. All that power and potential that was held back on the rink. "...could have seen the curvature of the earth..." she murmers under her breath. It gets Harper's heart racing more than the candy and her teeth show next, glinting and shiny.

"I'll take your word for it. I don't think I'd ever earn citizenship of course." Harper's a smart girl, but even she has to play catchup now and then. Putting 2 and 2 together, carrying the 4, divide by: that was pretty cool.

"Next time I'm chasing an armoured car, I'm giving you a call. Hell f'ing yes. That's quite the can-opener."

Harper Row has posed:
Harper takes that offered hand, ducking in low to help clear the ragged tear in the fence, eyeing the glowing ends and then the smoldering jacket. "F'ing cool." rasped under her breath.

"The only thing that makes me nervous is if I'm running low on a charge. Mostly. Seen some wild stuff, and can't say I'm anything but a little envious when push comes to shove." There's a pregnant pause and Harper sucks in air past her teeth. "I can't compare, but I can speak a little on shoving back against dipshit behaviour and the delightful way IQ's drop when people gather in little mobs of stupid dumbshit lizardbrain. So, I mean, if you need someone to cover a flank or draw fire, you've got my number."

Harper takes a gander at the surroundings beyond the perimeter and the warnings thereupon. The early hours definitely seem to give the place a vibe that is right up Harper's alley. "I hope it's still super dangerous." she gives a little laugh. "I can test out some of the moves I saw you make at the Derby."

Harper Row has posed:
Harper straightens up and places a hand to the small of her back. With a dip and tilt of her head, so that some of her messy blue block of her faux hawk create a inefficent shade to one of her eyes, she speaks, "Oh if you've got a problem, yeah I'll solve it." Her hand comes around to Eastwood a playful finger-gun gesture.

"What you do, did, impresses me more than grandpa red-cape and Wonder bread. Whatever place they sock-hop in together, it ~bores~ me. If I had those kind of cheat codes to reality, everything would be a cake walk, it'd be ho-hum...It'd turn me numb, right?" Harper steps on up into some personal space. "Getting hurt means there's the possibility to feel stuff. I'll take that, and the lumps along the way."

Harper takes a moment to replay the blur of the evening. She rather dramatically licks her lips and pretends to need to really give this some hard thought, but she's already got a greatest hits VHS with video toaster effects germinating. She cocks her hip. "If I was to name three, immediately, it'd have to be catching a snatch of you weaving around my teammates, who...truth be told, kick all kinds of tough as nails trash on the streets with panache. If you weren't the opposition, I'd have cheered seeing you just in motion. Then...I swear you I saw you give someone in the stands a Glare-of-Death(tm), or I might have had the best concussion. And not to play favourite too much, but when you made contact with me while I was going flat out, my soul tried to leave my body and keep going down the track when you sent me spinning. I dunno what that says about me, but I have mad respect when someone shows rather than tells. Like...making holes in metal or sending me for a spin." Harper adds a shrug onto this, like she gave a few simple words rather than gush her guts. Praise laced with grudging respect, tinged by awkwardness of honesty, while trying keep up a front. "You're pretty Punk."

Harper Row has posed:
Harper may have made a few sounds herself, particularly some mirthful giggle-snorts when aliens are mentioned. And speaking to her team's general expertise in comparison, it's lucky they aren't in traction rather than whatever win they managed to pull.

Amazon Island is mentioned, and Harper has to echo the sigh herself. Whatever correct or incorrect mental image she's got going in her head, it's a favourable one. Her tongue drags around her gums like a lizard considering whether a nearby beetle is in range to be yoinked into its maw.

Harper rolls her shoulders at the compliment of bruise taking, the skin under her jacket feeling a bit tingly. "Fucking things up is what I live for. The only secrets I have aren't worth a nickle unless you like useless trivia, or are a fan of wearing little pieces of metal." A lopsided grin occupies her mouth and her eyes peer about briefly.

It's a bit of a feint, or pantomiming peeking around to see if anyone is lurking, being a vulture or paparazzi. Almost coy, and she struts up closer. Her voice goes low, a bit of fry around the edges as she rasps, and grasps for the bottom hem of Ellie's smoking leather jacket in her hot fists. "There's one though, and it is a bit of gamble to tell. But I can only let someone in on it when I'm near a power plant. 3-mile island stuff going on in a leather jacket."

Harper flushes, and goes to plant her sugar and lipstick mouth on Ellie's own.