234/Won't you be my neighbor

Won't you be my neighbor
Date of Scene:	02 March 2020
Location:	District 15, New York, The Bronx
Synopsis:	Alex and Mel talk about her future in the superhero scene.
Cast of Characters:	Melissa Gold, Alexander Aaron

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Melissa Gold has posed:
    What do you do when you're a slumlord and you have a barely-serviceable tenement block with three-bedroom apartments? That's right! You convert each three-bedroom into a single-bedroom and two efficiencies! (Fire regulations? What are those!? They go away when the inspector is slipped a few bucks, after all. Much cheaper than doing proper renovation!)
    This is one of the efficiencies. Squeezed between #15a (a single bedroom) and #15c (another efficiency), this room is like a shortened, widened corridor more than an apartment. The door opens straight into a single room with a bed off at the back and to the right, just under the window (the only source of heat or cold in the place depending on the season), and a small counter that wraps a space barely large enough to hold a person and allow them to change their mind. In that counter space is a half-height fridge under the counter, an ancient microwave oven that probably doesn't quite meet safety regulations for emissions, and a small two-burner hotplate for cooking.
    Next to that small counter space (likely referred to as the "kitchen" is a box-like area with a folding door behind which sits the combination washroom/shower, complete with diagonally-installed toilet, a sink in the corner next to it, and a wide, rusty shower head above it all. (Health regulations? What are those?) A rickety armoire opposite the bed fills out the rest of the room, leaving no room left over for a television, a computer, a desk, or anything really.
    Whoever lives in this modern hovel seems to live a pretty miserable life. The blanket on the bed--there are no sheets--is threadbare and stained, and nothing decorative covers the peeling paint of the wall, nor has anything been done about the worrisome patch of black mold over by the window.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    Everyone has been to the Bronx in New York. Stay there for a certain amount of time an inevitably you at least ride a train through the air, pass by it, or at the very least see it on the raised road nearby. But what a lot of people don't have are Bronx Minutes, time spent in the neighborhood longer than you absolutely have to. It's the time when someone is there because they want to be there or have some business to conduct there. People spend their lives trying to avoid having any Bronx Minutes, some people cherish theirs as an anecdote to tell at get togethers. The time they were there and couldn't immediately leave. The horror.
    Alexander, for his part, had been there. One of the places he went to train not so long ago was built there. But being here and now, in this neighborhood. That was another animal entirely.
    He'd seen squalor before, mass detritus and broken souls. It matched a lot of the horrors that he'd witnessed before. But rarely on Earth. He carried himself well, at least Melissa might notice that. He had a change in body language almost as soon as they crossed the line into the place. Then into this apartment building. Then into the apartment. But he didn't make a comment as they walked. He perhaps waited for Mimi to give her insight even as he walked in.

Melissa Gold has posed:
    It's interesting to watch Mimi's transformation the closer they get to her home. In posture and facial expression she get harder. More Mimi, less Melissa. More pro wrestler, less wannabe do-gooder. She ... hardens, in a word. In the district, a more cocksure walk. In the neighbourhood, more overtly watching her surroundings, signalling to predator-wannabes that she's not prey. In the building she's loud and dominant and makes sure everybody knows she's there, and she doesn't care.
    Her emotional states, however, grow more withdrawn. As the old song goes: Can you see the real me? And Alexander can see more of the real her than almost anybody who isn't a telepath. And the real her is growing smaller and meeker as the Mimi persona grows larger and more blustery.
    And then, inside, Mimi vanishes in a trice. Left behind is Melissa. Melissa who, now she has a guest, is looking at her apartment. And finding it wanting. Ego wilting.
    "So," she says. "I guess this is home."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    When Alexander steps in he'll pause there and takes a look around even as the door sloooowly closes. Then once it's shut his demeanour shifts, growing more at ease now that they're alone and together. He starts to walk around, exploring, taking a look at the small aspects of 'her' that he can find. His footsteps are quiet as he walks to her, leaning in to touch a small kiss to the side of her cheek even as he moves on toward that end of the efficiency and then he pauses to rest a hand on the counter.
    "This could be cozy." He offers as he looks over at her, the smile gentle on his features. Sometimes when he isn't being a smug bastard, or wild with rage, he can almost look angelic with that shock of blond hair and that smile worthy of a saint.
    But then he drops onto the edge of her bed and grins across the way at her, the devil's smile mirrored in his blue-green eyes, "Shall we break the bed in now or wait til later?" He even bounces on it a little and then holds a hand out to her, asking with that same smile for her to close the distance.

Melissa Gold has posed:
    "We'd break it," Melissa says wryly. "It's not very good." She looks around her apartment with new eyes, obviously. "None of it is," she says quietly, as if more to herself than to Alexander. Then in a louder voice, "It's fine for what it is. I crash here. I wake up. I leave. No muss, no fuss, no bother."
    No life.
    She looks at Alexander then. That smile is so plastic it hurts. He can almost see where the surgeon's blade cut so he could access the tendons and muscles that are forcing it. And he can see that killer of a lot of hopes and dreams of advancement in her face.
    Stupid. Stubborn. Pride.
    "Obviously I'm not going to live here forever. It's ... a step up from jail." It's been years since she was in jail, and in those years she was a fake superhero before deciding to go real. But of course he hasn't heard that story yet, so 'step up from jail' sounds plausible. "I work hard, scrape some cash together, I'll go up a step. Like to a one-bedroom. Or an efficiency in a building that won't collapse if you and I get frisky."
    She shrugs, turning away as another expression crosses her face that she absolutely DOESN'T want Alexander to see: shame. "I think I got some shitty beer in the fridge. We can call out for pizza."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Hey," Alexander rolls to his feet with an ease of motion that might be deceptive. He takes his coat off and sets it on the bed before he crosses the room with a quick step. "You had a rough stint, and stuff can suck. But Melissa." He reaches her and does not slip his arm around her shoulders, or give her a comforting hug, those gestures in such a situation come from a desire to protect or to agree with someone's dark feelings.
    The young Olympian instead slips his hand into hers, fingers interlacing as he gently touches her shoulder with his, "You're the real deal. You can out fight me roughly one out of ten times. Which is super tough." His lip twitches a little, "You have an amazing voice, you are dedicated, and in time... you're going to be one of the big players out there."
    He gestures with a nod beyond the apartment and beyond her dwellings. "You've got the dedication to do it, me I'm just a tourist for the most part. But you're the only person I'd even consider pairing up with that could get me out there doing the whole... cape thing."

Melissa Gold has posed:
    "No capes!" Melissa says. "Dumbest fucking pieces of clothing in the trade. Only stupid people wear capes. They can be used against you and they can cause problems interacting with the environment. Wear a cape and I've wrapped it around your neck and tied a very tight bow tie in it. Or ... it's ... caught in whirling machinery. No capes!"
    "But yeah, there's a special feeling. Look, I haven't told you everything. You know I've done some serously bad shit in my time, right? But you don't know how bad. The worst, though, was pretending to be part of the spandex crowd. We made our own cute little supergroup." She gestures at the bag over her shoulder where her Songbird gear is stored. "That's where I got that shit from... kinda/sorta. It's complicated. But while we were off pretending to save the day, we was really pickin' up information for later ops by other guys that weren't in the public eye."
    She turns her gaze down. "Horrible thing to do, isnt' it? Prey on people's hopes like that. Thing is, even when we was fake, it ... felt so fucking good. Like sex, kinda/sorta. People were so grateful for our help. They wanted my fuckin' autograph the first time in years. Know what it feels like being told what a great person you are when down under it all you know you're bein' a piece of shit?"
    She crouches, rooting around in a fridge filled mostly with various kinds of booze. And baklava. Carefully stowed in the back almost out of sight. And, from the smell, probably something that rotted. She grabs two tins of literally generically branded beer, tossing one to Alex, cracking the other for herself. Someone checking the bottom would see they're about three months past 'best before'. She kicks the fridge closed behind her.
    "Thing is, we started feeling like pieces of shit, some of us. The non-psychos. I've done bad shit in my time, but I ain't no psycho. Neither was ... He." Now she's avoiding Alexander's eyes. "We talked quietly. Found out who was the pschos. And the rest of us ... we turned on the boss. Exposed him. Outed him. 'Cause we liked the feeling of helping. It was so fuckin' good. And knowing we was hurtin' the people who thanked us for our help was killin' us. So we stopped it."
    She shrugs, looking back at Alexander. "So her I am, and here he ain't. We needed a patsy to take the fall so at least some of us could go free. Abner volunteered. So he's in jail for doin' nothin' wrong I ain't done, just so the rest of us ain't in jail. Pretty fuckin' sick, huh?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    As Mel shares her insight about capes she'll see him smile, just a warmth in his eyes as his gaze drifts a little, "Well, maybe a small one. A half-cloak. Those look kinda cool." But when she reiterates he holds up his hands as if acceding to her wishes.
    But when she starts relating of her life his eyes find her lips, following along as she speaks, something about him focusing so hard at times like this, intent and trying to insure his attention remains. Then he nods slowly, not in agreement with some of the sentiments she shares, but more to signify he is with her as she speaks.
    The beer is accepted, taken and cracked open. He sips and holds it in one hand as she continues. When she speaks of turning on the boss an eyebrow lifts for some reason though he does not elaborate. And when she gets near the end, speaking about the patsy and she asks that final question. He shakes his head and looks to the side.
    For a moment he takes a deep breath and then murmurs as he looks back to her, "You should know by now, Melissa. That I am... selfish. I want what I want. And I value things that some people do, some people don't. I know in my own way I am fucked up, like you are fucked up. But..." He nods to her slowly, "It's clear you have a conscience, you have regret. In this position, with what you have dealt with. That you have this remorse following you, weighing on you. It speaks to who you are as a person."
    Another sip of beer, "Now, I know talk is cheap. So ultimately it stinks what you did. I don't believe that, you believe that, so that's good enough for me. Probably there are things that can be done to resolve that, fix it. If you need help with that, I'll help you."
    There's a shake of his head, "But me. I already told you. I'm selfish. I want what I want. I want you in my life. Everything else? Unimportant. But if something will help you feel better, then let's change the world."

Melissa Gold has posed:
    "Fix? Can't fix what I broke so bad. Make amends maybe. That's a tall order too. But ... right thing to do is try. Even if you don't succeed, better to try and fail than not try and "win".
    She leans wearily against the "counter" which creaks dangerously under her relatively slight weight. "Not an excuse, but I had a shit life. Ma ran out when I was a kid. Well, jailed, but jailed 'cause she was robbin' somone so she could run off with another guy. Dad drank and beat me. So I left. Life's been a festering shithole since, with little moments of glory here and there that gave me hope things could be better."
    She looks around her home with those new eyes again. "Look, for example. From trailer trash to this. Huge step up! Another two hundred years and I might have a share in a condo."
    She laughs, and it is actually a humourous laugh, albeit laced with a bit of bitterness.
    "But in between I've had a few ups and downs, and the ups were fun. They just never stuck. Maybe if I climb slow, they'll stick."
    Then she smiles, and it's the real one. The one that lights up her face like a slots machine that just dished out the jackpot, guaranteeing that every rube for a hundred miles would pump it full of coins far in excess of what it paid out. "But then you get days like ... that time that blind girl wanted off the Brooklyn Bridge the short way. Told me her life story. I told her mine. She got so depressed she jumped. That was a great day. 'Cause she was blind and didn't see that I'd put a ledge under her. The look of surprise on her face. The crying when she realized I'd cared enough to take her safely. Her parents thankin' me. Made up for weeks of comin' to this shithole."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    Alexander's eyes follow her with the flow of the tale, the explanations, through that trip of self-condemnation, then to the one with self-realization. His smile is warm and gentle at the last as he then says, "Then looks like we need to make it so more of your days are spent doing those things, giving you those feelings."
    He straightens as he tilts his head one way, then back to her. "But I'm going to be a jerk now. Alright?" He says this with an ease and an openness. "If we're going to do the hero thing together. We're going to need to set up a base or something to handle all our practicalities. Me operating out of here too would be difficult. My dad has a few places, we could set up shop there, commute there, run our gigs, then come back and change out."
    He looks back meeting her eyes and gives a small shrug. "Easier for me, I reckon."

Melissa Gold has posed:
    Melissa looks at Alexander, narrowng her eyes. She stands up, facing him, closing in and resting her hands on his chest. "I'm uneducated, Alex," she murmurs. "Not stupid. Don't think I can't see what you're tryin' to do there."
    She looks up into his eyes with an impassive face. Then the face lights up again, as before. "And I love you for it. And I'm not stupid enough to turn it down. It makes sense. This place sucks as a base of operations. The electricity ain't stable for starters, makin' it hard to watch out for crimes or listen to scanners or whatever. If we're teamin' up it makes sense to have a working base and our homes."
    She straightens out again. And it seems that Alex's ploy has at least worked on distracting her from the shame of her home.
    "We gotta make plans, I guess. Which I kinda suck at. I'm always the one that's out there in the fight, not in the back plannin' it." She shrugs. "We work to our strengths, I guess. I'm a doer, not a thinker."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    His brow twists as he meets her eyes and he actually has a pretty damn good poker face as he says, "What am I doing again? I just don't wanna travel all the way out here when most of the ruckuses I've seen have been in Midtown. Sheez. I'm lazy not altruistic." But... she read him right. Perfectly, and he looks away to try and hide it as he rubs at the back of his neck, but then smiles a little at her sidelong.
    But then he nods as she speaks to the realistic aspects of the thing and he says, "I also think it might be good to try and put together some like-minded people, or to get involved with a team if there's one that might be to your liking. You've got the chops to work with a good number of people."
    How he knows this exactly might be curious, but he does not elaborate. At least for now.
    "But c'mon, you wanna go get some takeout pizza? That might be nice." And as he says that he moves over to grab his coat off the bed.

Melissa Gold has posed:
    "Before we go..."
    Melissa pulls something out of a pants pocket. A business card it looks like. That has ... well ... been pressed against that little fold at the top of her thigh for a while, so it's kind of bent and ragged. On it the words say, "Zatanna Zatara | Stage Magic - Presidigtations - Fortunes | @AnnatazArataz on Instgram YouTube and Twitter" She presents it almost like it's something holy she's giving across.
    "I met her. Just yesterday. She's ... really good. But I think more importantly ... I think she's trying to recruit me for somethin'. She read my fortune in cards. The first two was the usual carny talk for rubes. But the last, my future, was a bird. Not a card, even though I put my hand on top a card. A bird. A real bird, like ... a ... miniature eagle. And she told me that was my future.
    She lowers her voice, as if she doesn't dare hope. "Took me a while. There's an outfit out there. Called the Birds of Prey. And she ... well ... my future, she said, was a Bird of Prey. You figure?...
    Her voice trails off. She's almost vibrating, but doesn't seem to have the courage to hope and wants to instead hear the interpretation from someone else.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Oh hey!" Alexander says as he looks at the card and turns it over to examine the back as well as the front. "That could be pretty cool, you should check it out if you have the chance." He takes a moment to read it again, lips parting slightly as he commits it to memory, then he nods to her while handing it back, "I think I've heard about them." He tilts his head to the side, "I think they might have bylaws that won't let me run around with you guys. But that's fine, I won't mind being a superhero's stay at home significant other or whatever."
    That said he slips his arms around her and grins a little as he looks into her eyes, "See, future ain't half bad. Though I still gotta get through college, and that's not gonna be huge amounts of fun." Despite the frat party they went to recently.

Melissa Gold has posed:
    "I did some diggin'. It's not a full-time thing I understand. It's more like ... my casual labour at the warehouse district. On call at need. I'm not gonna stick around on my ass every night waitin' for a call. So you and me are still on."
    She grins.
    "You don't escape the spandex squad so easy, Alex. If this is really what I think it is, I'll need the time with you to keep me at the top of my game anyway. And who knows, maybe you can set up your own team with different bylaws. Call 'em the Boars of Prey."
    Did she just call him a... Yes. Yes, she absolutely did!

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    She'll see his eyes flicker with amusement, but also a hint of warmth as he catches himself just looking at her, his bright eyes finding hers and he shakes his head, one hand resting on the back of his neck. A snort slips from him, laughing at the joke at his own expense and then acting like he didn't find it funny by squinting at her. "You know best part about you being such a munchkin?" He says as he slips an around her shoulders and leans in to kiss that pink and white head of hair, "Is that you are at perfect noogie height." And he does so, giving her a sample of what awaits her if she keeps cracking wise.
    "C'mon, pizza waits for now man." Which is a lie, but to be fair he is pretty hongry.