2203/Come Into My Parlor, Said the Spider to the Flying Thing

Come Into My Parlor, Said the Spider to the Flying Thing
Date of Scene:	24 June 2020
Location:	Roof - Titan's Tower
Synopsis:	A bird, a ghost spider, and a mutant meet at a hot tub. Whurf.
Cast of Characters:	Kian, Gwen Stacy, Samuel Morgan

---

Kian has posed:
    Kían spends a *lot* of time on the roof, but that's really not much of a surprise.  After all, that's the main access to the sky.
    He already has been flying, actually, and now he's perched on the edge of the hot tub, dangling his feet into the water, just... well, just unwinding after a good flight.

Gwen Stacy has posed:
Gwen was...on her way back really. Technically she didn't live in the tower, it was more of a 'hangout' for the blonde, but after a day of heroics it was kind of nice to be around people who faced similar issues rather than just others who were getting constantly frustrated by her interuptions and 'no-shows' to 'normal life'.

With the tower's location, she'd basically launched herself quite the distance, a swing carrying her almost entirely 180 degrees the only thing to slow the White-clad 'Ghost Spider' down before she dropped acrobatically onto the rooftop in a crouch before straightening up.

What kind of 'Spider' uses the front door anyway?

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    To say that it's not been a good few days for the resident mutant is possibly an understatement. His month hadn't been that great. Least said about the year, the better. The only high point, really, was getting to know the Titans, and then with those Titans experienced both the best and worst moments of his new career. So far, anyway.

    He hadn't left his room for a day, after crashing in the common room after the Washington massacre. Exactly how he was taking the total destruction of both Genosha /and/ Mutant town was anyone's guess, but no prizes for the obvious 'not well'.

    And yet here he is, in the balmy evening, dressed in shorts and little else, coming up from the men's dorms and making straight for the hot tub. He has bruises on his bruises, which are vying for space with a whole canvas of scars, old and even older, and the rather distinctive scorpion tattoo on his right bicep. He lifts a hand in greeting to Kian and Gwen before getting into the warm water. "Evening."

    A few moments later, his towel arrives, carried by the ever amiable Bear.

Kian has posed:
    Kían is... well, okay, a little taken aback by the two arrivals.  The fact that the intruder alerts aren't going off helps a little, but... okay.  Birdman is a jumpy birdman.  He can't help it.  This is a weird planet.
    So somehow, he actually remains seated on the edge of the hot tub, rather than leaping to his feet, or even into the air.  Take that as a mark of how settled-in he's getting.
    Even so, he leans forward a little and spreads his wings slightly, in a sort-of seated bow of greeting.  "Uh... /kié/ Sam and, nnh, I do not know you," he says, tilting his head at Gwen inquisitively.
    And then he just watches Bear.  What is *that*?

Gwen Stacy has posed:
"Ghost-Spider," the masked woman in White offers to Kian, obviously one for using the monikers while in the relatively open space of the rooftop...or just not in the habbit of using her real name on first meetings. Sam's arrival gets a raise of her hand in return before she reaches up, drawing down the hood of her costume and then stretching her arms and her back with a light pop. Twisting, weaving, fighting and swinging all day left even her with the odd muscle aches.

"Guessing from the 'hot tub chilling' that we're actually having a peaceful-ish night?"

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Waiting for the other shoe to drop, I think." Sam mentions sardonically from where he's relaxing, head back and looking skyward. When Bear traipses close enough to deposit his towel, the mutant reaches over to give the German Shepherd a fond scritch between the ears.

    "Washington's a ruin, Bushwick is gone, Genosha is still reeling... turns out it's not just people on this planet that hate mutants. Guess that makes us popular."

Kian has posed:
    "Gos-pi-der," Kían repeats, with only partial success.  He's still watching the large quadriped uncertainly.  It *seems* friendly... but that's an awfully large animal.  With teeth.
    "I am hope it iss peace-ful night," he says... a little dubiously, to be honest.  Bush-wik and Wash-ing-ton and Ge-no-sha just kind of float over his head.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    It's hard to not notice Kian looking oddly at Bear, and when Sam does finally glance over, his eyebrows go up. "Ehmm... You okay there, Kian? You look like you've seen... oh." Oh yeah. Now he's trying to remember if Bear and Kian have ever met before, because this might literally be the first time the bird alien has seen a dog. This may be a delicate moment...

    Not that Bear seems to mind being looked at, giving a friendly doggy smile back, tongue lolling and tail wagging. Hello there strange looking human friend.

Kian has posed:
    "Iss... a very big animal," Kían says a little dubiously.  He's clearly unused to animals as large as that.  "Iss... nnh.  I do not haf wor'd.  Iss f'rien' animal?  Like /rut'yw/ that live in the t'rees my home was in?  I am not haf food for... for... Bar?  Iss Bar name, or is Bar kin' of animal?"
    He leans back a little, not exactly afraid, but definitely uncertain.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Both." Sam admits, and pulls Bear a bit closer to him, smiling. "Bear is his name, but Bear is also the name of an animal. But that animal is much, much bigger than my friend Bear. Friend Bear here is a dog. And dogs are man's best friend." So they say.

    "He keeps me happy, it's what he does best. Making people happy."

Kian has posed:
    "Dog," Kían repeats, successfully.  Three cheers for single-syllable Ing-lis words that lack diphthongs.  There's no denying that the animal looks friendly, but it's still a lot more critter than the birdman is used to dealing with.  "I haf family of /rut'yw/ livin' in t'rees aroun' my home.  Iss f'rien'ly, but iss not f'rien's.  Iss mos'ly wan' to be fed," he explains with a little smile.  "An' I am easy to con-vin's to feed them."  Bigger smile.  He kind of misses the little sky-beggers.
    "So Bar iss not bar?  Hwy iss name 'Bar' an' not 'Dog'?"

Gwen Stacy has posed:
Masks were pretty standard fare around the 'hero-crowd', so when Gwen returns, it's perhaps not all that strange that she's still wearing hers. The rest of her outfit however? It was decidely more 'normal'. Jeans, a jacket thrown over her shoulders that fittingly had a hood of its own and her 'bracelets' that happened to contain her web-shooters still resting on her wrists. Making her way towards the tub she leans nearby, exhaling a breath and leaning heavily.

"So...popular people," she muses from behind the white and purple shroud, inevitably drawn to try and reach out for a scritching of the dog if permitted.

"At least nothing is blowing up or shooting at us -right- now, huh?"

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Long story, but the short version... we tend to give our companion animals names." And Sam is /not/ going to be the one to explain cats to Kian. He might stand toe to toe with Brainiac drones, but that's where he draws the line. "Bear was named before I got him, and he knows his own name. Changing it would be hard, and I actually like it."

    'Whurf!'

    "And Bear likes it too." Hmmm. Do dogs speak some kind of language that humans understand? "Sounds like these... rutyuw?... Sounds like squirrels."

    There's a nod from Sam to Gwen. "Go on, he's not wearing his vest, you can spoil him." Which implies that there are times when that's not allowed. "If I thought there was half a chance someone was going to take a shot at us up here, I wouldn't be sitting in a hot tub."

Kian has posed:
    Kían thinks a second.  "I am... not sure what a s...s'kuir'l iss," he says, stumbling badly over the word.  "A /rut/ iss about this size."  He holds his hands about... well, about squirrel-width apart.  "An' has... nnh.  Not wing.  G'lide.  An' a tail like this," he finishes, hands about the same distance apart.  Yes, No doubt that clarifies everything.  Basically, yeah, Kían has kind of described a flying squirrel.  But an alien flying squirrel, not a regular one!
    He blinks at Gwen.  "I am rather not wan' be shot at..."

Gwen Stacy has posed:
Lazily, Gwen's hand comes up, the hand currently not scritching a 'puppo' right now anyway. Drawing her mask up -just- enough to rest at her nose and reveal her lower face, she digs into her pocket to retrieve a packet of gum. One piece popped past her lips later and she offers the treat out towar the others before shrugging.

"I mean, me too..."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Space squirrel" Sam decides, figuring it's easier to pronounce than whatever tongue twister Kian had used before. It's an almost idyllic scene, here up on the roof. A mutant, a ghost spider, a bird alien and a dog, sitting around or in a hot tub. It's like the opening line of a very bad joke.

    "Getting shot at is no fun. But, I figure, it's going to happen, so I might as well relax where there's zero chance of it happening."

Kian has posed:
    Kían does not join Gwen in giving the dog attention.  That's still a muzzle full of large teeth, even if Bear appears perfectly friendly.  "S'pace s'kuir'l," he agrees with a shrug.  It's not wholly accurate, but it's close enough.
    "Iss very not nor-mal life aroun' here," Kían remarks, "but at leas' we all ag-ree.  Not bein' shot at iss good thin'."

Gwen Stacy has posed:
Hand retrieved from the petting, it returns towards the pocket of her jacket and she exhales a breath. "Well...I'm not quite sure I'm in the mood for a hottub, given I sort of left my swimsuit in my other costume so..."

A pop of her gum, the masked blonde shrugs her shoulders. "I'm thinking Pizza. Gonna check out downstairs and order something. Welcome to join if you like."

With that, Gwen turns on her heel back to the staircase once more. Even heroes gotta eat!

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Pizza? Now you're speaking my language." Or at least, so Sam avers. But before getting out of the tub to dry off and put on some more clothes, he can't help but stretch out where he sits, and putting his hands behind his head in sheer contentment.

    "Less bullets, more hot tub and pizza. That's the life."

    'Whurf!'