2186/A Knight of Stars, An Angel of Heven

A Knight of Stars, An Angel of Heven
Date of Scene:	22 June 2020
Location:	Hayden Planetarium
Synopsis:	An angel meets a knight and a scientist. Tony Stark, look out.
Cast of Characters:	Jane Foster, Dane Whitman, Aldrif Odinsdottir

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Jane Foster has posed:
Admittedly mid-morning in June sees vast volumes of people heaving and flowing into the American Natural History Museum. All those students free from class need somewhere to go with school out and not every parent willing to let their terrors hole the kids up in apartments and slumlord hovels for days on end. So the ANHM bustles with a high number of people, though fewer tourists and out-of-staters come to pay the entry fee. Hot, humid weather pressure cooking New York has more to do with that. Also maintenance on the subway line outside the huge complex adjacent to Central Park slows matters down.

But here, a kind of reverent solitude prevails, in part because "Private Event / Maintenance" is stuck on the doors to the planetarium and one Darcy Lewis stuck outside with a laptop, a cool t-shirt, and a rueful smile to tell any would be looked-loos "Sorry, astronaut stuff going on inside. Try again with the next NASA mission!" Cheeky thing.

Jane controls access to the Hayden Planetarium, as its director, and in this little world of stars, meteors, and interstellar vacuums, few visitors come. Oh, they walk the exterior pathways through the solar system and drink in the delights of various exhibits, but not the great planetarium itself. Partly because of maintenance for the star projector setup, which means moving between a pretty intense sweep around the Moon where Apollo 16 and 17 roamed. That block just finishing, she queues up the next option.

"This one gets a bit on the cutting edge side. Pity that ship in the hangar wasn't functional, but I did get authorization to improve some of our maps here to project the planets correctly. More or less. We're working off questionable data sets at best to ascertain atmospheric or surface conditions. But our current best guess, without asking Asgard." Dane has a front-row seat to watch her spin the worlds beyond into luminous detail. Massive exoplanets spin around Fomalhaut, baked to magmatic crackles, as the soaring instrumental soundtrack hums in atmospheric abandon from the speakers. (https://open.spotify.com/track/5cR8ZXWzh4hyVkQapTRWLP?si=Mktm0v9_TCu0_WsvpSQ2Jg)

Dane Whitman has posed:
"Well, maybe it's only a matter of time." Dane replies with a grin, on the subject of ships in hangars, though his eyes are watching the display for the moment. He sips from a tightly-lidded cup of coffee, kept well away from any sensitive equipment. He glances towards the projection, squinting just a bit, then adds, "I think one of your LEDs is about to go, though. Want me to take a look at it?" He glances towards the projector mechanism, critically. "Should only take me a few minutes. Especially if you have a spare handy."

Aldrif Odinsdottir has posed:
Angela knows Jane Foster's name and the angel knows that the Doctor can be found at the Hayden Planetarium. It's just a short flight over, and now that Angela is learning to use the 'Google smart phone' magic, locating the planetarium makes the hunt all the easier.

Darcy turns away yet another curious group of sight-seers when a 6'2" redhaired angel in golden armor takes a martial stance before her, hand on the hilt of her broadsword. "I am here to see Doctor Jane Foster." Angela declares. "We have business, she and I, and I will not be denied. Aid me or thwart me, but choose swiftly!"

Jane Foster has posed:
Darcy's reaction is to... take a picture, considering she has the device to do it. "Are you related to Loki? Because that totally sounds like something Loki would say, if he were trying to be all Thory but not very /good/ at it." The words come out roughly at a mile a second, not quite light speed, but really a good clip. "You can put your hands down, really! It's okay. But a tip for the cool tourist about Earth, because you definitely look like a long distance traveller. We just say 'Hi, is Person available? I need to chat.' That'll open lots of doors better than a big old boot. Unless you kicked the door down first and /then/ announced aid or thwart, but like, that's kind of putting it out of order. Just saying! Hey, Jane, you've got someone from Down Under to steal your thunder!"

Shouting this while propping the door open isn't necessary. The planetarium is acoustically sensitive and gloriously receptive to whispers, partly why every session starts with 'put your phone away' and 'keep your voice down, as we can all hear you, okay?'

Jane stops midway through a sequence, carefully measuring the distance. "Of course, I've got most of the hardware stashed under the Zeiss. Help yourself." Because Darcy hasn't totally spoiled the effect of the entrance, and she puts her hand to her face. "Let me give you my keys to the office. Third drawer in the main cabinet with a picture of Messier on it. He's wearing a suspiciously large hat."

Dane Whitman has posed:
"Got it." Dane accepts the keys with a rueful grin, moving off for a moment to go find the necessary hardware, giving Jane a brief kiss before moving off. How unprofessional! In any case, there's a flicker of amusement when he peeks into said office, noting that it is...perhaps not the most neatly-kept affair he's seen. After a minute or so, though, he finds the described cabinet, and sure enough the necessary replacement part. After that it's just a matter of locking the door behind him and starting to make his way back towards the projector itself.

Aldrif Odinsdottir has posed:
Angela tilts her head, gazing down at Darcy with slightly-narrowing, white eyes. Her expression is otherwise unchanged, and from *somewhere* beneath the mane of scarlet locks a pair of pattered ribbons emerge to flail about. Almost threateningly. "I am still getting accustomed to your Earth manners." she declares. "Is Doctor Jane Foster available? Angela of Heven wishes to talk with her. Rest assured that if I had intended harm to her, I would have broken through the door already and we would not be talking."

Regarding Darcy a bit more closely, then, Angela asks. "Are you her servant? I would know your name, so that I may address you properly when next we meet." And when the door is propped open, Angela takes a single step inside while finishing the conversation. No cloak is worn today; no attempt made to even (badly) disguise her nature.

Jane Foster has posed:
"Well, probably, I think she's right there." Darcy points to the door being pulled open more than a crack, the heavy weight of it impressive only to the likes of an average American woman. It makes almost no sound to the average ear, but then again, an Asgangel probably doesn't have normal hearing, now does she? Motion that gives way for Jane standing silhouetted there, the wealth of the heavens all around. The Zeiss projector will shut off in a few moments, or once Dane gets his hot little hands on the structure, but fortunately the 'off' switch is the easiest thing to operate about the great metal and glass creation that likes to swivel and soar in every respect. The holographic projectors aren't installed widely here, and they happen to be off after the fun experience of wandering around a crater.

"No need to break down doors. Hello, Angela." Because how do you address people politely when their title is a placename? Ms. Heven sounds odd. A warm flicker of a smile still persists from that passing kiss from Dane, and she gestures inward to the Planetarium itself. Many seats, a fully round experience, and not a one occupied. "Would you like to sit down if you find it comfortable? If it's urgent, I understand."

Dane Whitman has posed:
Dane offers a wave towards Angela as he moves to the projector, switching it off and opening up the access panel needed to extract the faulty LED and replace it with a fresh one. All with no more than the assistance of a multi-tool that of course he tends to carry on his person most of the time.

"Morning, Angela." He does greet the wayward Angel, but for the moment doesn't otherwise intrude on Jane and Angela's conversation, though it's clear from a few glances and his general demeanor that he's listening while he works.

Aldrif Odinsdottir has posed:
Angela gives Darcy a nod by way of thanks, turning her full attention to Jane now. The tall angel almost smiles, which is about as close as she comes to a pleasant, non-aggressive expression. The ribbons shift from 'poised' to almost wiggling. Almost. "Hello, Doctor Jane Foster." she replies, adding a small nod of formality. "We can sit."

The ribbons writhe more vigorously, perhaps sensing Dane's entry before she does. "Hello, Dane Whitman. I have come to continue our talk about travel permits. I do not think that they will be necessary anymore."

Jane Foster has posed:
Darcy unequivocally grins after Angela turns, and she totally posts a few snapshots with quippy captions to a private network. No need to torment anyone, just Another Day in Darcyland. Nobody appreciates Darcyland quite like she does, and her minions in fellow internships. "Steal your thunder was such a good line. I need to remember that." The comments to herself are most definitely pleased.

With the door shut terribly quietly, this leaves the benefit of a more private space for a conversation that can also hold easily over two hundred people, give or take, and conjure up the cosmos with the best technology this side of Tony Stark's exposition. The running lights come up with the Zeiss projector down, preventing anyone from functioning in complete or quasi-complete darkness. "To what do we owe the pleasure?" Jane asks, carrying just enough to give the angel an easy accord to enter the conversation. A few risers down puts them comfortably near the front, prepared to accommodate ribbons and longer legs than her own, though she isn't that much shorter than the typical Asgardian. Just enough, but tall girl problems are a reality, after all. Swiveling, she drops into one of the chairs, giving into the sumptuous recline. "Travel permits will not be necessary? That's advantageous. Were you able to clear up the need with the right people or have you settled into a role?"

Jane Foster has posed:
As for Dane, that tricky little machine he's messing with behaves. More or less. It takes a bit of wiggling to fill in an LED because space is at a premium for a machine that projects space, mildly ironic. Neither is it filled with mysterious crystals or a hiding spot for any kind of infinite power source. Woe!

However, it is deviously clever in its creation, especially for the possibilities of disco laser light shows, a la darkness in Metropolis.

Aldrif Odinsdottir has posed:
Angela doesn't so much 'sit' as -descend- into a seat, ribbons fluttering clear to stay out of the way. She even smooths the waist-cape as she settles. "I have made arrangements for... suitable... papers for Sera and myself. I understand that the identify papers are not entirely legal, but they will suffice for now."

And yet she doesn't seem bothered by this at all.

"I also understand that various governments here on earth actually *hire* spies and assassins. Is this true?" Apparently Angela has been talking to people.

Dane Whitman has posed:
Curses, Dane's hunt for wayward sources of cosmic might is foiled, so he settles for just fixing the darn thing, looking back towards Angela and Jane as he carefully wiggles and maneuvers the old component out, and then even-more-carefully sockets the new LED back in. "Well, that seems like it sorted itself out quickly." Dane is honestly still a bit concerned over how Angela might fit in to human society but for all her bombast it's not like she's started killing folks left and right ye-...hooboy.

"Uh...yeah, they do, sometimes. It's not something they like to advertise and generally international law and global opinion tends to take a dim view of it...at least where the assassins are concerned. Spies are more accepted as a matter of course, though still not usually treated well when they're caught."

Jane Foster has posed:
Alas, no magical secrets hidden away though it would be a good spot. Jane glances at the machine in the middle of the room, the sacred altar of astronomical gifts and learning. From here the studies of space become a reality for most, and the gentle treatment of her adopted child -- it really is, in a way -- leaves Jane a bit tense, hands clasped together, but appreciative when it becomes clear Dane knows what he is about. The view isn't half-bad, either. Her smile warms a little for him and she nods to the space next to her if he feels like venturing inward, the mute invitation quite clear even for those unfamiliar with human tacit communication.

With a nod, she says to Angela, "Certain documents become a necessity. That's the case for those not born here, and I imagine it's a bit easier to come by something that makes it possible to have a house. Or a job." Her expression holds concern, to say the least, and mirrors the statement from Dane. "That, I have to agree with. Spies exist, though no one really advertises being one unless they want a short career or they're on film. But being a hired killer for a government is a fine way to get in jail. So... No, I wouldn't really be suggesting it."

Aldrif Odinsdottir has posed:
Angela doesn't look too concerned about being caught, either, a ribbon waving almost dismissively. "It is wise to assume that political opponents will employ assassins and spies, just not polite to discuss it." she replies, apparently understanding how some things work. "It is also a risk that I have assumed before."

"I have met someone who can arrange for identity papers and I have bargained with him. I'm pretty sure that that he works outside the law to do this, but don't your vigilante-heroes do the same?" Yes, in her mind the differences are small.

Angela looks up and around the large room, then. "What is this place for, that you need such a large room?"

Dane Whitman has posed:
"Look, we probably can't stop you from pursuing whatever path you choose to follow here, but depending on who you're working for and what exactly it is they're asking you to do, taking up the job of spy and assassin is likely to put you at odds with...a lot of those same vigilantes and metahuman heroes. The law has been...murky on vigilantes and their legal status, but the courts have upheld arrests and convictions made with their assistance. Some cities and nations even officially deputize their vigilantes. Some are more outside-the-law than others." Dane gives a bit of a shrug, moving to seat himself next to Jane. As to the purpose of the room, he leaves that to the expert.

Aldrif Odinsdottir has posed:
Angela shakes her head slowly, stretching out those long legs. She crosses her feet at the ankles, looking from one to the other. "I would prefer to follow the law." she replies. "But I am also prepared to make contingency plans, where papers and permits are concerned."

The ribbons wiggle about curiously. "If I do not seek employment as a spy or assassin, then perhaps I can find some use as a soldier. There are active wars here on Earth. I have watched your C-N-N channel."

A bored angel is a dangerous angel.

Jane Foster has posed:
"There's a good way to convince lawmakers to change the laws, and that's an incident. Not a lot of good news out there right now about taking down particular high-profile or problematic targets," Jane cautions as she sits very still instead. Her foot nudges lightly to brush against Dane's, a greeting in a different kind of way. Subtle, but elegant all the same.

The faint turn of a smile for Angela is meant to be reassuring to an extent, though. "May I ask who provided the papers? I don't particularly know what you consider a vigilante-hero to be. I'm an astronomer and astrophysicist by trade." A gesture to the walls around them, the former projection of planets. "Not precisely in the field of being a heroic individual."

As for wars, her smile tips upside down. "There are wars. Wars largely over what they have always been: resources, territory, pressures. Not always for ideological reasons, in fact most of the time not over ideas of that sort at all. I'm not sure it's particularly profitable but violence exists and there will always be armies and battles. If that's your art, then you will no doubt find it appealing."

Dane Whitman has posed:
"I might suggest that if your intention is to make this place a home, you could put your skills to use defending it. A soldier of a sort, perhaps, but there's never any shortage of threats large and small that threaten people here, sometimes on a personal scale and sometimes scaled up to the entire globe and beyond. Whether as part of an organized and sanctioned group or on your own. The compensation may come more in the form of respect, goodwill, and satisfaction in seeing innocent people safe from harm than anything more tangible, but while I don't know how strictly you have to follow the mandates of the culture you were raised in, I get the impression there's at least a little flexibility afforded to you in that, and possibly even more so since here, at least, nobody from this world is going to try prosecuting you for bending those rules and strictures to make a place for yourself here." Dane offers, an arm draping across the back of Jane's chair. "Wars are a constant here, but the various nations tend to be...cautious...in how they deploy metahuman forces. For fear of starting an escalating arms race. For that reason, many metahumans choose not to interfere in those matters except at great need. Though it would be a lie to say that all of them follow that ethos."

Aldrif Odinsdottir has posed:
"His name is Ben Turner, but I doubt that is his real name." Angela replies. "We met in Chinatown. There were men chasing him. We fought. It was... nice, if brief. He has not provided papers yet, but we made a bargain for him to do so."

Just covering all the bases, apparently.

"No one has offered to bargain for my services in their wars, Dane, and there is wisdom in your words. Once one army hires a celestial being, then others will follow suit and the Earth will burn." She shakes her be-winged head, then. "No. This would not be acceptable. If Sera and I are to live here, then we will help to defend our new home."

The way she says it sounds almost like a declaration.

Jane Foster has posed:
Curled against the armrest, Jane works her way under Dane's arm so at least part of it rests against the corner of her shoulder. It also accounts for the fact that, due to New York endowments, things are especially comfortable when it comes to good seats. She doesn't have much to add to his points about the nature of warfare in the world, though she can snatch hold of the ideas about the culture. "Exactly that. We have a rare balance in the world. Those with special powers tend to be discreet about it. I don't know how many battles included those with special powers, but it hasn't been enough to attract attention historically. Otherwise human history might look very different. It's a case of brinkmanship." She gestures ahead of her in a little oval. "Someone comes to the battle with someone who can manipulate fire that wipes out a contingent of soldiers. Then a metahuman from that side shows up en force, and then suddenly we have things spiralling out of control and killing civilians, widespread damage, and more than a war. Maybe there is some kind of gentlemen's agreement; I don't really know. What I do know, we don't really have magic users or metahumans running around battling one another. Maybe they arrange it differently. You lose a game of senet or chess, you aren't allowed to mess with humans."

Could well be a situation to pursue, though she looks thoughtfully at Dane and then back to the angel. "Unfortunately that monstrous action in Bushwick is done with, otherwise you might be an apt guardian of any places where mutants congregate. They might need help against being taken. Though you might consider... call Iron Man." Yep. Make Tony deal with it!

Dane Whitman has posed:
"Yeah, if defending Earth is what you choose, he'd probably be a good person to talk to." Dane agrees, and not solely because despite being a SHIELD agent he doesn't entirely trust the idea of Nick Fury having an Angelic Spy and Assassin at his disposal. Or because he's felt like these conversations are way above his pay grade. Of course referring her to Iron Man may just get her to Fury in a more roundabout way but that can't really be helped.

Aldrif Odinsdottir has posed:
Angela tilts her head, lounging comfortably in the well-padded seat even if she does need to angle the broadsword differently. "Iron Man. I have heard of him. He is also called Tony Stark, if I'm correct." Yes, Angie DOES watch CNN. "I will find him at Stark Industries, then."

Which means that Stark had better have either a very polite receptionist or really good security.

Jane Foster has posed:
Or, possibly, Iron Man deserves to have some headaches heaped on him. He wants the prestige and the position of leadership, at least in some way, he's in a great role to take on the inquiries of interested parties! Jane's logic could be totally reasonable and not at all suspicious. Plus, he might have a better view on martial and military matters than others. Between Fury, Rogers, and Stark, someone can set Angela right.
% ight?

Slender fingers reach back and capture Dane's, a loose link that otherwise offers a muted frisson of gratitude. "I have the phone number for his assistant. Pepper Potts, as it is. Giving her a call first to set up a good time -- naturally, you'll want some privacy -- will help. Ms. Potts is highly capable." The smile reinforces this impression, the right way to approach matters. "But yes, I think he might have the right kind of viewpoint and contacts you need to settle this matter of interest. There are other groups, but his has been fairly forthcoming about their approach."

And Reed Richards won't have to figure out how to sample an angel.

Aldrif Odinsdottir has posed:
Angela nods slowly, making mental note of the names. "Pepper Potts." she replies, not at all put off by the name. "Very well, then. I will contact Pepper Potts to make an appointment. And then offer my services to defend Earth." In her mind it's just that simple, too. Rising smoothly, the ribbons flutter as she turns. "Thanks very much for your help. Both of you."