276/FISTPUMP!

FISTPUMP!
Date of Scene:	04 March 2020
Location:	Midtown Apartment
Synopsis:	BRAZILLIAN BBQ!
Cast of Characters:	Alexander Aaron, Melissa Gold

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Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Hey dad, I'm home." Alexander's voice is heard as he calls out once he gets that door open to his apartment. A slightly somber tilt to those words as he likely doesn't expect to get a response even as he steps through the door and drops the keys in the small ash tray nearby. He leeeans back and fwumpfs the door closed behind him, his backpack falling off his shoulder and into his hand. Tossing it up onto the coat-rack nearby he stuffs his hands into his pockets and wanders on into the living room.
    Just as austere as he left it, just as empty of a personal touch. He takes a gander around, frowning to himself. A glance is given to the television, he ignores it. Over toward his room, he makes a face. A few steps carry him to the window that has a place of prominence in the wall facing the street. He leans there, one hand upon the sill as he gazes out, then crinkles his nose as he steps back.
    Into the kitchen as there's clinking and shuffling, glass objects striking glass objects and then he straightens up having gained something from the freezer. He drops the bag of chicken tenders on the counter, then turns on the convection over with a twist of the knob. All terribly mundane for the moment.
    But hey at least the maid came in the morning so the place is clean.

Melissa Gold has posed:
    The first sign of reified chaos arriving to bless Alexander's life is the humming of window panes as they buzz in sympathy with her high-ultrasonic wings, transposing them down from inaudibility down to just the level where exceptional hearing can pick it up. Kitchen window. Living room window. Bathroom window. Bedroom window. In rapid sequence.
    Then that falls silent.
    Then heavy footfalls running down the staircase before thudding on the floor in a path to Alexander's door.
    Then loud knocking at the door. "ALEXANDER AARON!" the too-familiar feminine voice, despite being itself transposed down an octave in a bad disguise, announces at the door. "OPEN THE DOOR! THIS IS THE POLICE!"
    Followed by giggling that can't be suppressed.
    Yeah, she's in a mood. A good one, at least.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    Inside he likely knows who it is since the signature of Melissa Gold is unmistakable. He grins openly to himself, warmth suffusing his face as he tears open the bag of chicken tenders and lets them scatter on the cookie tray. But then she's stomping on the steps and then pounding and banging and shouting in that oh so disguised tone of voice. He shakes his head and laughs, then calls out.
    "YOU'LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE!" Even as he starts to short stroll over to the door, perhaps knowing what to expect. And yet... he doesn't take any precautions. Because he loves her. And her goofiness.
    The door unlatches and he pulls open the door, ready to endure Hurricane Mel as he greets her with arms open. "Oh. It's you." He says even though his face is lit up with that smile, bright eyes gleaming with affection...
    And then likely gets ready for the stormfront to whoosh on over him.

Melissa Gold has posed:
    Whoosh it does. Scirocco Songbird sweeps into the room, the gulfstream gal picking Alexander up in a tight hug as she rolls in, kicking the door closed behind her while somersaulting around Alexander to take him to ground, but with him atop her.
    The kiss does eventually end, after which her twinkling eyes, her positively goofy grin, and the fact that her whole body, practically, is vibrating with intense emotion becomes more visible.
    "You're under arrest," she murmurs. "Anything you try to do will hold you against me."
    Yeah, that's the cue for the second kiss. Someone's in a very good mood.
    "Want some Perrier?" she suddenly asks incongruously.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    The neighbors probably hate them. There's that rush and thump and roll roll roll, as the young paramours curl close and entwined. Leaving him smiling, at times grinning, returning kiss for kiss and then finally pinning her with his hands on her shoulders and those hazel eyes meet hers. "Alright. I was making some food if you want some chicken. Just tenders, nothing special."
    Another kiss, just a brush of lips as if to reaffirm, 'hi you're home!' almost like a tow-headed golden retriever. He sits up a little though, giving her the freedom should she want to rise as well. "What's up? Something happen?" He starts to shift over to one knee and stand up a little, his hand around her forearm and trying to draaaaw her up should she let him.
    "Did you break someone in half in a particularly creative way today?"

Melissa Gold has posed:
    "Oh, nothing THAT good!" Melissa says, eyes widened in feigned surprise. "No, I just ... someone ... someone FAMOUS ... is recruiting me! Remember I told you about Zatanna Zatarra talking to me with cards and a bird in a coffee shop?"
    Her face goes blank, and then she winces, making a pained expression. "God, I must have looked like such a doorknob then! I was so flustered by talking to her and her trick I totally didn't even get the coffee I was going in to get!" She shakes her head ruefully.
    "Anyway, I got to thinkin' that there was a message in her little patter. She's a performer, you know, like me. Only a lot more successful." Oddly there's no bitterness there. Just respect due a fellow practitioner. "So I figured, see, there was this old-time crowd of do-gooders that scared a lot of my friends back in the day, callin' themselves Birds of Prey. A bunch of wild chikkas who kicked ass, took names, and generally got their hands dirty the same way I like to. So when someone tells me that a card has my future, and that card turns into..." She sounds off in that sing-songy voice that people reciting memorized things tend to get. "...one of several members of the falcon genus..." She grins, winking, "...or, you know, a bird of prey, I gotta wonder if there's a message being given."
    She lowers her head and sighs, eyes closed. "I was right. It was a job interview. Got a couple more to go, but ... someone ... WANTS ME TO BE WITH THEM IN A GROUP!"
    No matter how much pressure Alexander is providing, anything under the level of actually snapping (very tough) bones is not going to stop her from practically dancing while supine on the floor.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Hey!" Alexander grins and sits up more, getting clear of the wild and willful Songbird. Smiling and then laughing when she starts to do that little dance there. "That /is/ really good news." He grabs her knee and gives it a squeeze, then slips his legs around to sit cross-legged in front of her, laughing as she just unloads with all the deets. "I had a good feeling about all of that. But see, you are the real deal."
    Looking around the place he smiles back at her and murmurs, "Pretty soon I'll be riding your coat tails and asking you to buy me all sorts of cool things so you can keep me in the manner to which I'm accustomed. And I won't have to work a day in my life, yay!"
    At that, however, he grins and eases a little back out of arm's reach, teasing, but the mood she's in even if she's teasing she might whomp him a good one.
    "But seriously, Mel. That's great. Let me know if there's anything I can do to help you. You have more interviews or like a test or anything like that to go through?"

Melissa Gold has posed:
    Once released, Mel bounds to her feet, seemingly irrepressible, unable to stop from moving. She practically dances around the apartment, sitting on the sofa, only to slither over the top, straddling the back, before standing behind it and pirouetting in place.
    "Yeah, some chick named Batgirl is going to be the second interview, according to Ms. Zatarra, and I would not be surprised at all to find out there's a test in the works somewhere. I mean, I'm not exactly an organizer, but I know how things work out there. But I don't care. Bring it on. I'll pass anything they throw at me and more!"
    She mimes boxing moves.
    "And I promise I'll keep you just like you deserve to be kept..." Her eyes radiate malevolantly amused danger. "And I promise I won't pick up new boyfriends until I can afford them as extras too. 'Cause you're worth it."
    Laughing she ducks behind the sofa, putting up a dome of pink force around the whole affair to prevent vengeful attacks.
    "God, Alexander, this might be it! The leg up I've needed! Think about it, people might start believing in me!"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    While she's talking his smile is wry, amused, and utterly taken with her. She throws those blows and lets him know exactly how she's gonna handle Zatarra and this Batgirl scrub and he shakes his head, eyes lifting upward. "Yeah, you'll whup em!"
    But then she's teasing him right back and he harumphs at her, reaching for a handful of mail off of the kitchen counter behind him and playfully throws it at her, letting it whuff and shuffle off of her pink force field. "I dunno, I'm pretty expensive." He informs her with a smirk, but then he nods.
    "Yeah, it probably will be. I'm super happy for you, Mel. You're gonna knock their socks off." He has no hesitation in making this prognostication as he rolls up to his feet fully and walks over to that sofa, leaning over and fwumpfing onto the back of it to get closer so he can steal a kiss.
    "And look sexy doing it."

Melissa Gold has posed:
    "Well," Melissa says with a cocky self-assurance completely at odds with past discussions of her life, "that latter point's a given. I'm sexy as all Hell."
    The kiss is successfully stolen, in the same way that money given out of pity to a successful busker is stolen. Then it is stolen again. And again. And again. Melissa donates to her favourite busker repeatedly. Her eyes ignite with a different fire ...
    ...that is deferred as she asks, "You mentioned chicken?"
    And somewhere a sad trombone is played in a falling sequence.
    "'Cause I only had time for a hot dog today. I was going to get a sandwich later, but ... ah ... I bought lunch for the interview and that kind of blew my budget."
    Two hotdogs and some drinks. Budget blown.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    Grabbing a last kiss, though this one is on her cheek as he eases back with a smile. "Chicken, and..." He rolllllls over to the side and then off the side of the couch, fwumpfing into a kneeling posture and then pushing himself to his feet with such lazy abandon that only makes sense when one is a teenager. "Some potato salad I think." Since he doesn't do the shopping himself, though he does sometimes put it away if he's around when it's delivered.
    He disppears into the kitchen, flipping the switch to turn on all the lights in there, and then she'll hear the scrape of metal on metal as he finally puts the chicken into the oven. "These are... Apple Orchard Chicken Tenders." He calls out, reappearing briefly as he looks at the box, "About twenty minutes. Think we might also have some mashed potatoes if you want a side."
    That said he's on back into the kitchen.

Melissa Gold has posed:
    Melissa, for her part, moves to the dining room table. "If you're gonna be my kept man," she says, "it's good practice for you to cook, so I'll just stay out here and wait for dinner." Beat. "And would it kill you to give me a brew!?"
    She pops up a shield to deflect any beer which may be tossed at her with any degree of force. If she's annoying just as herself, she's triply annoying with her rig attached.
    "And dammit, all I ask for is a place that's clean when I ge..." She pauses and looks around the place. "Oh, never mind. Nice job, honey. You cleaned up real nice. How 'bout later you dress up nice and we go see a movie or something so I can show off what I got warmin' my bed at home?"
    She's watched a few too many old-timey sitcoms it seems.
    Or she's being a bitch.
    It's one or the other. The suppressed *snork* sound might hint which it is.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "No brews," He calls back out into the dining room, "And if I'm going to be your kept man then I'm gonna start lounging around all day eating bon bons and stuff. Just to practice." But there is a small 'hsst' of a can being open and he walks out to her with sparkling lemon/lime water, which is what was in the fridge. He sets that down on the table and then wanders back in to complete the prep.
    "And yah, my dad has a service thing." For the cleaning up. There's the rattle of plates as he calls back out, "Like how hungry are you? Or heck..."
    He turns and /leeeeans/ out of the kitchen, holding onto the doorjam to support him. "You want to go out to dinner? I have a frequent diner thing at the Brazilian BBQ." He cocks an eyebrow, always looking for an excuse to go there.

Melissa Gold has posed:
    "Going out for dinner dressed up like this? Or should I change into the leathers? It'd be funny if I show up in costume. At least until the cops get called when I'm recognized and it's blown up into a major incident." Melissa's face suggests she'd think it funny AFTER the cops show up too, albeit in a form of gallows humour. "But yeah, you keep talking up this Brazillian BBQ place, and I do need to do some trimming, so if I can eat a steak while getting the trim, that's fine."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    Alexander disappears back into the kitchen and starts to put stuff away, "Ok we'll go out and celebrate, my treat. But if you want..." He tilts his head and looks across the way at her, head twisting one way or the other. "I have some clothes that you could wear if you're really that worried. Lots of sweats and t-shirts. It's a super informal place." Considering how the place serves ther meals. "All you can eat sort of thing, you ever been to one?"
    He reappears now that the food is back in the freezer or fridge, leaning again on the doorjam. "You can go up to this salad bar like thing, though it has some entrees, get stuff you want. Then you go and sit down and they have these flags. You raise the lil green flag and it means 'bring me meat!' and they do. Just right to the table, a steady stream of it. And then when yer done you flip the red flag up. Cool huh?"
    That said he starts on over to the bedroom, probably to get ready and change.

Melissa Gold has posed:
    "Nah, I'll take the leathers. They won't mind, will they? Or is it too formal for 'em?" Melissa grabs the kit bag and starts the complex process of removing her audio rig, slithering the connectors out of her implants and sitting the rig on the table before slipping out of her bodysuit.
    The bodysuit she's full commando underneath.
    Upending her kit bag, the one she always secrets near where her patrols start, she dumps out a full set of clothing and starts packing away her power suit, very clearly staying the way she is as a show for Alexander's eyes before she starts shimmying into her underclothes and painfully tugging on the pants. "Downside of tight pants," she grunts. "Getting 'em on is a serious bitch."
    Finally dressed in civvies she puts the kitbag over into a corner and pirouettes in place again. "How do I look?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    Arms folded over his chest, the young Olympian makes no qualms about watching. He smiles a little and when she reaches a particularly difficult point at pulling those pants on he'll ask a little sardonic, "You need a hand?" But then at her question Alexander grins and gives a nod, "You always look great. But right now, I think you look the greatest of all the great times I have seen you. So great."
    That said he grins and walks over to slip a side hug over her shoulders and then spares a small kiss for her cheek, "C'mon, let's go." That said he heads on over towards the door, grabbing his jacket and keys and wallet, making sure they're all set and put away before he'll open the door.

Melissa Gold has posed:
    "I'll remember how nice you were when I upgrade my lover," Melissa says, then bursts out laughing. "I'll give you a year's upkeep so you have time to find someone special who can replace a tenth of what I give you in your life!"
    She sidesteps the anticipated revenge smack and practically dances out the door, her studs and chains flashing in the light as she actually dances--dances!--down the hallway.
    Someone's going to be very exhausted tonight.
    "How we gettin' there? Bus?"
    Because, SUPERHEROES!