272/Songbird v. Zee: CAGE MATCH! (Or a polite conversation. One of the two.)

Songbird v. Zee: CAGE MATCH! (Or a polite conversation. One of the two.)
Date of Scene:	04 March 2020
Location:	Union Square Park
Synopsis:	Songbird is given a much-needed boost, and a private magic show!
Cast of Characters:	Zatanna Zatara, Melissa Gold

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Zatanna Zatara has posed:
The Greenmarket is one of Zatanna's favorite places to shop. It's also one of the places she actually is rather mundane. It's impossible to use magic to find just right ripe vegetables. Dressed in a sweatshirt for the New York Yankees and a pair of blue jeans, she's perusing the market, a canvas bag at her side being used to carry her loot as she negotiates with someone over some fresh squash and zucchini while glancing at a nearby honey vendor that advertises that their bees fed on cannibas to make their honey.

Melissa Gold has posed:
    To say that Melissa isn't the sharpest candle in the toolshed is ... well, OK, it's actually unfair. She's not stupid. She lacks education. There's a big difference. Still, she's not a detective. She's a doer, not a thinker. This is why it was so hard for her to track down Zatanna for another chat. And oh, did she ever want to do that. Not only was the magic act something that tickled her fancy, and not only was she more than a little starstruck, she couldn't help but think there was something underlying that trick that Zatanna was trying to communicate that flew over her head. On its way to Pluto.
    And today was the chance. Down in the Greenmarket she spots the raven-tressed mistress of magic, looking almost like a regular person. Actually SHOPPING! (Don't big stars have people who do that for them?!) The sonic wings fold as Zatanna reaches a more open area and she plummets to the ground, sweeping them open again to catch herself right at the very end, depositing herself gently on the ground inside Zatanna's sight, but not too close.
    She wasn't kidding when she said she was in show business once. She's got that flair for dramatic entrances.
    "Uh ..." Her tongue ties in knots a moment as nervousness almost undoes her. "Ms. Zatarra? Do you remember me? Coffee? Cards? Bird?"

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
A lot of the crowd is surprised to see a super-hero... well, someone in spandex... suddenly land in their midsts. There's mutterings and cellphones, already starting to take in what they assume will be a dramatic and epic clash. And it would be, is the woman that the twittering Songbird is calling out didn't look so well...

Normal.

Packing the vegetables in her bag when she hears her name, it only takes Zatanna a second to catch on and she smiles warmly. "Wow. You look pretty amazing in costume!" she offers to her. And then not to dox her publically, she asks, "You know who I am... but I don't remember what to call you." Yes, she knows her name is Melissa Gold. But she didn't catch her alias. "I do remember our coffee date though, yes."

Melissa Gold has posed:
    "Me..." And then she stops. Right. Costume. "My call sign is Songbird," she says, hastily covering up what could have been a nasty faux pas. "And I'm so glad you remember me. You must meet a lot of people each day who start to blend in together after a while."
    Yep. Starstruck.
    "I hope you don't mind me approaching you like this, though. I just happened to see you..." She extends an index finger upward. "...and I thought I'd drop by to say 'hello'."
    Then, a little embarrassed, she does a delicate fingerwave that really does not suit her public persona in the slightest. "So, uh, hello?"
    OK, this is getting more than a little awkward. Even Songbird can notice this right now, coarse as she is as a person. "I was wondering, uh ... if you haven't had lunch, would you care to join me for something? My treat?" A palpable wince there, though she's trying to hide it. "Like, just a hot dog or something?" Her eyes stray to one of the ubiquitous New York hot dog carts. "I mean, you know, nothing fancy."
    See, Melissa? That's why you need someone to plan things for you because you just dropped in without actually having a plan. Now you look like an enormous dip...
    Well, that's what her face is saying anyway.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
"My goodness, I didn't realize you were so interested to ask me on a date. And it's very brave of you!" Zatanna is trying her best to help Melissa out. And hey, if it helps with LGTBQ rights? Why not. She takes a moment, murmuring a few words to transform her canvas bag back into her purse, and the magician smiles with a nod of affirmation. "I'd be delighted to join you for lunch. Will you be able to carry me? I had a light breakfast!" she offers teasingly as she steps up to the muscular hero.

"I know you meant to talk." she offers to Melissa softly. "I figured I'd lend a hand." she gives a saucy wink and then waits to see if Melissa will sweep her off her feet to take her to lunch.

Melissa Gold has posed:
    Melissa blinks in confusion as everything changes out from under her while she's barely getting to grips with what a mess she'd made. Date? What?! I'm not... OOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! She is really smart, isn't she?
    "Uh, yeah," she says unconvincingly as her mouth lags a little behind her brain, which itself lags behind the situation. "Right. A date." This spoken with more conviction as her brain catches up with her mouth. "And yes, uh, I can probably carry you," she adds, lifting Zatanna with casual ease.
    God, I'm going to get a reputation for being queer. Like I need more bad press.
    Because in Melissa's world, not yet caught up with the times, being queer is something that damages reputations, not enhances.
    "Hold on tight," she adds unnecessarily as her rock-hard arms pretty much ensure Zatanna's not going anywhere without magic. Red gems flare and wings appear again, beating mightily and taking the pair off the ground. "Oh God, thanks for that," she says once they're in the air. "I got stuck. I'm not good at this kind of stuff. You saved me from looking worse than I already am."
    Her eyes scan the environment. "That rooftop?" she asks. "Or should we pick up hot dogs first?"

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Wrapping her arms to settle in close to Melissa, Zatanna looks utterly amused. "Don't worry, you can deny it all later. Or say it was horrible." She lifts a manicured finger and taps Melissa's nose as she takes off, but she's quickly with her fingers to her ears to muffle the sound slightly as they coast over the rooftops. "Hey, it's okay. You could have called me. My number was on the back of the card." she points out.

But there's no complaint. And as Melissa is making up her mind, Zatanna points to another rooftop. One of the newer 'green rooftops' that has a garden and grass on it to take in rainwater and clean the air. "How about that one. And they you can bring up the dogs. I like mine Chicago style -- and the hot dog itself soy, please? And that way, if you set me down first, more people won't get the wrong idea, yeah?"

Melissa Gold has posed:
    "I would have called, but I was afraid you'd say no," Melissa says, after setting Zee down at the rooftop garden. "I'll get the dogs myself," she adds hastily, trying to get time to regroup her thoughts. Also. Soy? Is that some breed of dog? She'll find out.
    She plummets over the edge out of sight, her thoughts racing as she tries to piece together what she wants to say. If she notices the hot dog cart's vendor and customers consternation at appearing out of the blue like that to take such a mundane order..."And, uh, the Chicago one is supposed to be something called 'soy'."...it doesn't appear in her demeanour, which is more distracted. Order taken, delivered, and a variety of beverages picked up as well from a local shop, she takes to the air once more and rejoins Zee.
    "Soy is a bean?" she asks, delivering the bundle across. "Weird. I thought 'dogs were made of the worst cuts of the worst meats. Learn something new every day." A scattering of tins and bottles is laid out across a convenient flat surface, with two tins of beer, and then one tin or bottle of almost any other kind of soft drink imaginable. She reaches for one of the beers herself. "Forgot to ask what you're drinking, so I got ... uh ... kinda one of each."

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
"Said no to what?" Zatanna asks as she accepts the dog. "...I'm a vegan, so yes, a bean dog. Though they do spice it nicely. Would you like a bite?" she asks curiously as she waves her hand out. "Teknalb." she offers, and the grass forms into a soft blanket and the magician takes a seat and accepts the beer. "Are you old enough to drink this?" she asks playfully.

Then she cracks open the top and takes a sip. She's not a fan, but she's at least trying to be helpful, though under he breath she adds a quiet. "Eniw otni reeb." After another sip, she lifts her brow. "Anyway, you said you wanted to talk! What's up?" she asks casually as he unwraps the soy dog to take a bite.

Melissa Gold has posed:
    "I got one myself," Melissa demurs. "I'm not a fussy eater--can't afford to be--and I was curious."
    She sits cross-legged on the grass, unwrapping her own and guzzling half a tin of the beer in her first pull.
    "To talking to me," she finally replies to the question. "I figured you might have found out who ... what ... I was and decided you didn't want to talk anymore. It's easy to say 'no' to a phone, but harder to a person." It's like bitter experience talking. "Also," she added with a subtle grin, "you can't do another magic trick over the phone. That bird one was killer!"
    Ah. A fan, too.
    "But I'm gonna come to the point." Finally. "I'm not the world's greatest thinker." Putting it mildly. "But I can add two and two. Sometimes I even get four." Self-deprecation is healthy. There's that subtle grin again, with a glint of playfulness in the eyes. "And I can't help but think that you had ... ah ... a message for me in that trick. So, am I completely off the rails?'

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
"There's a difference between intelligence and wisdom. I think you're confusing the two," Zatanna says as she takes a bite of her dog, tucking into it. "Wisdom is knowing that you're going to burn your hand if you touch that pot of boiling water. Intelligence is deducing that it will happen. In this case, you have deduced exactly what I was trying to show you, Melissa." she offers to her warmly.

"I have a friend. And in our younger days, we were part of a group. All women, crimefighters. We wanted to prove we were just as good as the boys. We did pretty well there for a while. But eventually, we all drifted apart. Life did what it usually does and seperated us." she explains.

"But my friend and I stayed in touch. And we were talking the other night, and she's been thinking about getting a new group started. A reboot, as it was." she offers. "And when I asked her who she had in mind, she mentioned you. And since I had never met you before, I decided to feel you out and get a thought or two on you." she explains. "Now, my friend? She's going to want to talk to herself. But how would you feel about becoming a member of the Birds of Prey?"

Melissa Gold has posed:
    "I KNEW IT!" Melissa's enthusiasm and obvious pride together show another side to the nervous, clumsy person she'd thus far shown herself to be. Insecure, in a word. "See, I have ..." Shit. Oh shit. Does she know? Melissa sighs. "... OK, better be upfront and you find out from me instead of others. I've got ... I've been ... pretty bad. So I know a lot of people still on the bad side of things. So I know names like "Birds of Prey". Lot of people I used to hang with ran up against that crowd before. So when I finally figured out that that thing you made me was called a kestrel and is a bird of prey, it kinda/sorta dropped into place. That's when it dawned on me you were tryin' to send me a message. And, I figure, also a test to see if I was smart enough for you. So when I figured it out I wanted to call, but ... yeah ... I've been in the whole don't call us we'll call you thing before. Didn't work up the nerve. But I saw you outside and figured, well, in person is better, right?"
    She heaves a huge, relieved, sigh, standing and pacing, burning off nervous energy, letting internal turmoil exteriorize.
    "And what, are you crazy? I've been missin' the old team, even though we were fake for most of our time together. Doin' this crap is ..." Her face practically glows as her words fail her. "I only been happy two times in my life," she says. "First when I was in The Grapplers before the bad stuff went down, goin' out in public, giving it our all, and soaking in the cheers and boos and all that stuff from the audience." The word she's looking for is probably 'engagement' -- or it would be if she knew that word. "Second was when we started doin' good things fer people and they thanked us for it. Though it made me feel like shit..." She stops, eyes widened. "...scuse the language... But I felt like a right heel takin' thanks from people we was usin' to do bad. It's why most of us turned. We liked the people better'n our boss and the money."
    "So yes," she finally says, in her meandering, long-winded way. "Yes a thousand times yes! I gotta lot of things to make up for, and it's easier in a team than goin' solo!"
    Besides, spandex isn't cheap!

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
As Zatanna listens to Melissa gush, she chuckles softly, paying rapt attention as she reached the conclusions that she did, and nodding slowly. She offers up an encouraging smile and then laughs outright. "I'm 25, Melissa, I've heard coarse language." he teashes, but then Melissa is back on her tear again, and once she reaches the end, she smiles in warm approval. "Great!" she says with a laugh. "You do look pretty amazing in that spandex by the way." There's a tease there in her voice.

And then she's back to the task at hand. "I'll contact Oracle and let her know you're interested. You may get approached by Batgirl for a more formal talk - I'm just the feeler and welcome wagon, this whole project is Oracle's idea. But I'll get them your contact information and they can get in touch with you. If that would be fine?"

Spandex isn't cheat. Neither is the clothes that she wears. And then she pauses.

"Do you have a place to stay?" she realizes to ask after hearing about the demise of her team.

Melissa Gold has posed:
    That sparks an evasive look. Body language turns to embarrassment, hand running through her hair, eyes turning slightly away. "Yeah, I got a place in the Bronx. I've been earning a bit of spending money bouncing and..." Melissa's voice fades into near-inaudibility. "...liftin' crates."
    It's odd she considers lifting crates being a lower job than being a bouncer. Most people would flip those two.
    "But I'd be lyin' if I didn't say things were a bit tough. Between workin' hours and patrollin' it's hard to find time for anythin' else. Like trainin' or, you know, networking with the few people who'll talk to me in the first place."
    Her face turns wry. "Look, I'm not complainin'" she says, complaining. "But I made plenty of bad choices and hurt plenty of people. I understand why I ain't trusted and I'm workin' to make ammends. And this part of it is hard and it sometimes hurts. But I'll soldier on through it come what may. Just ... it's so nice to ..." She silences and swallows hard. The fierce look on her face is like she's DARING her eyes to leak anything. Her right fist clenches to hammer home the threat. The eyes don't leak, though it appears close.
    "Just thank you. For offerin'. And I won't disappoint if I make it. I promise."

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
"I believe in giving second... third chaces if you saw my dating life." Zatanna says with a laugh. "It's probably hard to pocket anything extra after rent, utilities and the like." She draws in her breath and makes a decision. "I have a place. Plenty of beds. As long as you clean up after yourself, you're welcome to stay, I have to admit, I don't have much in the way of TV and internet can be spotty. But there's plenty of books and such."

Then she adds, "My only rule is don't steal from me. I will curse you to turn into an actual bird if you do that. A pigeon." Is she being serious? The offer is sincere... the threat is a little bit harder to understand. "But it beats an apartment in the Bronx. Oh. And my other rule. No company unless you check with me first. I have to let the house know they're coming."

Melissa Gold has posed:
    "Oh, I'm fine with the apartment," Melissa says hastily. "It's not like I spend much time in there anyway. Mostly just to sleep, eat breakfast and run." And, of course, there's that combination of wanting a private place mixed with a sense of stubborn pride. She chuckles. "Also, if anybody tries to steal from me, they're gonna have one HELL of a wakeup call."
    She picks up one of the unclaimed cans--something called "Perrier"--and casually crushes it behind her, keeping her body between the ensuing shrapnel of water droplets and Zatanna. "I don't just fly and scream, after all. I was a pro shoot wrestler years before I got enhanced." She winks. "Someone tryin' to steal from me or my neighbours will find out that I consider most people ... slightly ... ah ... breakable."

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
"The offer will be there, if you change you mind. Or if you ever just need to crash for a bit." Zatanna watches the display with an amused smile and lift her brow, and then after it's over, she steps forward.

He hands settle on the crushed can in Melissa's hands, and she speaks, "Saw ti yaw eht ot nac eht llifer dna erotser."

And the can reforms right there in Melissa's hands, becoming uncrushed and filled again.

"I admire the strength, Melissa. But I think I like your heart much better." she points out as she steps back, releasing the hands. "I should get back home. I will let Oracle know to contact you."

Melissa Gold has posed:
    And now Melissa grins with a fangirl's eyes as the can reforms and refills. "And you didn't forget the magic trick!" she says happily. "That's cooler than even the bird out of nothing!" She sets the can back down, almost reverentially, and holds up her hands in a socially defensive posture. "Don't worry. I won't ask you how you did it. I just think it's one of the coolest things I ever saw!"
    She crouches then, to bag up the remaining cans--waste not, want not--and glances over at Zatanna. "You need a lift anywhere?" she asks. "I can take us there at sonic speeds and it won't even muss your hair." Yeah, there's a bit of absurd pride in that face. "I am pretty good at this spandex set stuff, if I say so myself. So if you need a lift?...

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Zatanna considers her response. Because saying yes would let her spend a little bit more time learning about her. But she also remembered her reaction when she backed away when Zatanna tried to help her by covering what happened with a date. And that's what helps her make up her mind. "It's Magic. I'm not sure I can explain it more than that." she admits with a laugh.

"But I can see myself home." she promises. "I would not want to keep you from your patrol routes or get you out of the way. I live in Gotham, after all."

Melissa Gold has posed:
    Somehow it's made apparent, through some subtle signal or other, that Melissa has been transfigured into something of a sublime mood. Maybe it's the way her back is ramrod straight, head held high and proud. Maybe it's the huge grin that's spread across her face, seemingly involuntarily. Maybe it's the flashy, show-off way she launches herself into the sky, sonics screaming, transparent pink wings, barely visible in the sunlight, clawing desperately for altitude.
    Or maybe it's the overloud "WOOHOO!" she makes when she mistakenly believes she's out of earshot.
    Possibly the aerobatics as she sails through the cloud-peppered sky, using the clouds as insubstantial pinball bumpers as she converts her mental state into her favoured realm: the physical.
    But something, somehow communicates that she's happy.
    It's just unclear what.