3219/Umbrella, Ella, Ella

Umbrella, Ella, Ella
Date of Scene:	03 September 2020
Location:	Midtown - Founders Island
Synopsis:	Off for a walk in the rain, things go well.
Cast of Characters:	Meggan Puceanu, M'gann M'orzz

---

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
For whatever reason, it rains a lot in Gotham. It's like the Seattle of the Eastern Seaboard with a whole lot more crime and less lattes. But gloomy greys usually associated with upstate Maine in November apply in summer, too.

Rain comes in torrents, and it leaves a silver sheen on the glass of buildings overlooking grey, grim streets. Steely asphalt makes for a hazard as trash and life rush down into the gutter, down into sewers home to alligators, sharks, and who knows what else. An entire colony of muskrats?

Not that Meggan cares.

She cares an excitingly posh umbrella, one of those ones with two layers, the outermost image being of an ancient map penned with old-fashioned calligraphic scrawl and the interior showing the presumed treasure hiding there: a dragon wrapped around a cool sword jammed into a rock. Hey, when you know the real Merlin, it's *exciting*!

It pours, she twirls her umbrella, dancing on the sidewalk while a bus slowly drags its carcass away.

"When the sun shine, we shine together,
Told you I'll be here forever,
Said I'll always be your friend,
Took an oath, I'ma stick it out to the end,
Now that it's raining more than ever,
Know that we'll still have each other..."

As it happens, though her singing is good, those moves to accompany it are nothing short of remarkable, flashing in sudden turns and elegant footwork.

M'gann M'orzz has posed:
    The rain in Gotham is much like the rain in New York. It is often cold, sometimes a little acidic with the pollution of a big city, and it *always* sends people scurrying to whatever form of shelter people could manage in the dark and gloom of Gotham's streets.

    Save one person. Or two, as the bearer of the Umbrella will see.

    Ahead, enjoying a day free of college professors, appears a familiar form. Red hair, pale skin with a smattering of freckles. And...only a raincoat. Maybe...if such a thing could be called as such. For, it is merely a rather transparent vinyl-esque short jacket, with a hood...that is not being used at all. The clear jacket allows full view of the shirt the figure wears underneath, which happens to be a black shirt with what appears to be a video game figure upon it, bearing a sword, which anyone with passing experience with JRPGS might identify as the main protagonist from Chrono Trigger. A blue skirt is paired with the shirt...and sandals are upon the feet.

    And..the only thing that appears to be completely dry is the shirt. And the female figure, for female she is, does not care at all.

    Megan walks along happily in the pouring rain, letting the water wash over her head, as she just skips along. There is no dancing, at least not yet, but there is a pleasant humming as she walks along.

    Humming that might be recognized as a certain song another Meg is singing.

    Megan has not noticed her umbrella-wielding friend as of yet, but...really, it is only a matter of time. Especially as the usual throng of people are dissipating as the rain continues to fall.

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
Little Miss Sunshine has no reason to care about the acidic quality of the rain on her skin, only to worry about the acidic tang altogether. Another proof of the universe out of whack, the environment being poisoned by mankind and humanoid-adjacent beings.

The cold, heavy fall presages a hard, long autumn full of such hands dealt. Gotham won't win against the Atlantic pounding at its borders, trying to drown the monstrosity of a Metropolis thick with crime and sorrow. But Meggan barely cares, swiveling around and dancing with the umbrella as a partner and aegis both, the droplets tumbling onto her golden hair and slicing away. Her jeans and t-shirt are dark enough if they were soaked, the colour won't change much. Those sandals baring her feet are probably exposing her to environmental toxins galore but she hardly cares, stamping down in a puddle and swishing her leg in front of her, adopting a ballerina's first and second positions rapidly before twirling and striking out the notes of the song easily imagined if not heard. Just the sound of the water rushing through gutters and the occasional honk to accompany her.

The next swivel puts the umbrella on her shoulder, tipped back dramatically back as she faces up the street and her spirit Martian: the other Meg. This warrants a merry wave of her hand.

M'gann M'orzz has posed:
    The other Meg. It is the thought that catches the Martian version, and the wave second. There is really only one person M'gann has experienced with such an open mind and a glance up proves M'gann's hunch. The wave is returned, water fluttering from the upraised hand as a rather irate office worker grumps at M'gann. That hand shifts to cover her mouth to hide the growing smile as there is a murmuring of apology before the redhead walks over to join her golden-haired counterpart.

    "Hello there!"

    No mention of the rain. No acknowledgement of it at all. Just a casual greeting among friends. "I was just enjoying a walk. Glad to see I was not the only one." Okay...a small allusion to the weather. "How are you today?"

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
This Meg, that Meg, the Megatron. It's like the mundane equivalent of that magical creation. So it stands that the dancing blonde Englishwoman breaks into a sunny smile to seeing the redhead, and the blithe response heightens considerably as her smile breaks out. "Hello! What a beautiful day, isn't it?"

Of course, the English have their twisted love-hate relationship with rain. An excited chirp escapes her as she steps forward and then another, closing the distance. The umbrella sweeps and turns on her shoulder, swiveling slowly and making others move around them that much more. She doesn't take up too much room; maybe M'gann does a little more, but too bad. Hopefully they can absorb the good vibes around them.

"I couldn't resist getting some fresh air, and getting some movement in. Isn't it fortunate I came upon you now!"

M'gann M'orzz has posed:
    Megan laughs as she offers a nod in answer. "Oh, I had the same thought about going for some air. I don't know about you, but I like seeing the city after the rain. It is like everything is all fresh and new. So, willing to brave a little wetness to see that happen." And, it seems that the alien Meg is being quite truthful about it.

    With a brush of her hand through wet red hair, M'gann giggles as she falls in step with her counterpart. "We do seem to keep running into each other. I quite enjoy it, myself. Though, we do seem to find ourselves in the most peculiar of places." Another giggle escapes as an image of a certain Starling City dump flashes in the Megs' minds, complete with the visitor they had led there. It is brief...and could almost be construed as a natural thought.

    Maybe

    "I have no classes today...which is really fortunate for us. As I think at this time, I would be listening to the wonders of contemporary culture, if I am not mistaken."

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
The lyrical dance of the empath's thoughts spin warmth, excitement, affinity, genuine delight to find a friend in an unfriendly city. It all holds a haloed glow, vaguely golden in her mind, shot by shades of vibrant jade and simmering cyan, all good colours. Megan herself registers with a rose-gold shine.

"Yes, completely! Just that, it looks so different when washed up and made to glimmer a little. Sometimes these harsh old facades come into their own when wet from the rain, and you can't fault the designers for wanting to put a gargoyle all over. I've counted at least /seven/ spouts. Mad, just like London. I wonder if any of them are real!"

Clearly she can't be serious, but then, that's probably a troubling concept to register even if that were the case. Tucking her hair behind her ear is hopeless because there is simply so much, but the bouncy waves manage to avoid getting darkened by too much rain and they don't drag in the gutter either. "I heard the Thunder breaking and had to come out. Rainy days in the cottage are so cozy, but I'll have plenty of that in the winter, no doubt. I have to hope all the utilities stay up." Ideas of being in the dark while waves pound Cape Carmine doesn't seem to bother her at all, but holds a cozy sort of allure. Another idea's there in a flash, boat sinking, diving through the water, pushed aside. But the cold and the suffocating moment before the water takes her in are too visceral, too real, to be anything but honest memory.

She touches the combs in her hair and smiles. "No classes? Aren't you lucky! I got a break from the afternoon because of technical errors, but I logged the work anyway. So much of it. I don't know how anyone manages. An acquaintance of mine was looking at starting up in pre-law this semester. Law? I suppose whatever the first year is. Poor man, he'll make my workload look like blocks and crayons." A swirl of her fingers draws the imagined heap of papers and books. Again, her thoughts betray her: it's a certain Grayson there, the eldest of them of a general age.

Though she perks to contemporary culture. "Music? Art gallery? Or are you hoping for TV?"

M'gann M'orzz has posed:
    The last question is answered first, as Megan latches on to the hook. "Oh, a little of all, really. Though, my expertise is with television, from the mid-80's to present day." Megan certainly doesn't look like she would be old enough to know any sort of media from the 80's, much less want to study it, but here she is, admitting to it. "But it is all so fascinating and warm. One can gain so much insight into a culture by what was popular media at the time."

    The question of gargoyles being real is glossed over. Of course, within M'gann's experience, there is certainly precedence to consider them real. And really, there isn't a batting of an eye when Meggan brings it up. "I wouldn't be surprised at all if our little roof-top dwellers were indeed alive. Stranger things have happened." Like two-headed crab eels from the deep!

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
"Television programmes over here are so interesting! The Beeb and Sky have good ones too; I prefer ITV over Sky, but still." This, the blonde fae can absolutely get involved with, dancing upon the backbone of possibility with a warm smile lingering all the same. "American telly looks like movies half the time, so bright and the effects... but sometimes lacking all the substance we have back home. I'm fond of the dramas, though, but nothing beats David Attenborough in my heart. The man's a gem. I've listened to him for ages and ages, and I can hardly resist hearing his narration when I go swimming or walking." It probably cuts both ways, but this she can warm to without the shame of her educational foibles tumbling down. The rain courses down around them, beautiful and grey, grim and wet as they come.

A bell tone laugh colours the air all the same, M'gann's good nature feeding her own. She cannot resist the brightened wave of welcome. "The city looks beautiful from up there. I have to stay under the clouds most of the time, since I don't want to cause anyone trouble. But it really sparkles in a special way." A kiss of her fingertips pays homage to too much Roman Holiday and other Audrey movies. "I think the rooftops about here are more popular than the streets. All the stories of crime-fighting, you'd think we never wanted to be on the ground."

M'gann M'orzz has posed:
    "Oh yes...American television is much more idealized and fanciful than British television, with few exceptions." The television conversation has Megan completely in her element, it seems. "I mean, watching some of these situational comedies that American television portrays. Since when do these situations ever come up in real life? I mean...I have to tell myself 'Hello, Megan! People just don't spontaneously spring into song!'. But...it is amusing to watch, all the same."

    Then the talk of rooftop spectacles captures M'gann's imagination. "Oh, yes. It is like everyone wants to look down upon the city, rather than look up in wonder. I mean, I like the view, myself, though I really don't need to walk on the rooftops to get it. Or...really walk, for that matter. But, I like the ground, too! Lots of things to do down here..."

    For a moment...and only a moment, an image of Gotham after rain is shared with Meggan. But...the point of view, is definitely higher than any rooftop in Gotham. Even so, seeing the gothic architecture glistening in the sunlight as rain produces tiny beads of sparkling light seems to be a favorite memory for the Martian. And...this time, M'gann punctuates it with a thought. Just for Meggan.

    <<It's so beautiful. All sparkling and shiny like a jewel. If only people would think to keep it that way.>>

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
"Fanciful, yes. Not more fantastic, though, not on the surface. I mean, the lives are better. People have impossibly large apartments in their big cities with no better job than a shop girl or a restaurant worker. I know the cost of New York!" The blonde's explanation to M'gann is a laugh wrapped into words. "Wonder anyone can afford to live within an hour's travel. I was lucky, very lucky. Still flat broke as it goes, though we have the free run of the streets to enjoy ourselves. That doesn't cost anything."

She twirls around and holds up the umbrella high. "You can stand under my umbrella, Ella, Ella, Ella, eh!" The spontaneous song is thus proven. "Nor do people seem to marry one another and fall out of love and marry again, with vindictive exes and horrible friends giving bad advice nearly so much. I haven't had shopping sprees or two attempted murders. It's disappointing. Instead you can hear about the problems up in Yorkshire and sodding rain and row house problems. England's gone and forgotten herself again, trying to be a dragon rather than a lion." A sad smile there, the revelation her home's not the centre of the world any longer. "Most of our telly programmes remember how great we were or lament how far we've gone. Then the Americans steal the comedies."

Her eyes close when the city melts away, glimmering shadows and brightened lights, all sparkling on high. "You've seen it and been there. It's beautiful, isn't it? I wish people knew how special the land was," she breathes out, "to the rivers and the beaches. They need to treat it all a little better. Taking the mayor up high wouldn't help get an ecological aspect to his platform, would it? Otherwise I'd offer, but the problem would be I can actually fly. Without a helicopter or airplane."

M'gann M'orzz has posed:
    As the two friends, for it is clear that M'gann thinks of Meggan as a friend, walk along, under one umbrella, it looks for all the world that M'gann is simply listening to the golden-haired British national. But, M'gann is responding. Just....in a less visible capacity.

    <<Oh, I remember your lovely flight skills. I could take the mayor up if we really wanted, but I don't think he would appreciate if I did it.>> A image of M'gann lifting the politician with her mind flashes into view, before a general feeling of M'gann laughing dissolves the scene. <<I don't think he would want to listen to someone that really isn't a citizen, anyways.>>

    Then...M'gann shifts to voice. "But yes. I have seen it. From multiple viewpoints. All is breathtaking. And always fleeting. It never lasts long."

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
The pair of them mosey along unrushed, sharing the dragon trove with an ancient map on the back of the umbrella displayed to the sky. "Too bad. I know in some places it's tolerated more, but here, not always as much as we would like. Or maybe it's better not to make people feel poorly because they lack the skills. I wouldn't ever want them to be belittled because we have some skills and some not."

A gesture for the flurry of activity down the street as a business lets out for lunch, a cohort of coworkers rushing off for a nearby cafe. The weather doesn't encourage them loitering in the rain. "I love the freedom of going into the air. Sometimes it takes all those cares away. A day like this would be so wet, but remarkably pretty to watch!" She hasn't thought back, so to speak, but her thoughts run parallel to the words, all wreathed in contentment. "Nothing lasts except change. People fear change so badly and oh, it's awful. They act like growth is a danger and that everything should stay just the way it is, all calcified."

M'gann M'orzz has posed:
    Green eyes watch with amusement as the office dwellers scurry about on their hunt for sustenance. As they rush from awning to awning, trying to avoid the damp day, M'gann giggles softly at the thought of flight. "Oh, certainly. I completely understand! I have a little bit of an advantage in that I could really go about it discretely, should I want to." A hand, held between M'gann and Meggan, grows translucent, the outline of the fingers there, but seemingly looking to be made of glass than not, before the hand shifts back to normal. After all, Meggan saw her friend with a few more appendages before. The fact that M'gann can do camouflage really shouldn't be of any surprise. "But yes, being able to rise up, above it all, is very freeing. It can be so fun...and really, it is probably a draw for what we do. But, really, because we can do what we do is why we do what we do."

    As Meggan talks about change, there is a slight dampening of M'gann's emotions. Just slightly. "Yes. Change is feared. Anything different than the norm is questioned. I...I know this. But, again, it is up to us to be examples, I think. To be willing to change, to show that change is healthy and inevitable."

    M'gann pauses...her emotions still a little sad, but only for a moment longer. As the two talk, the overall sensation is growing more positive. There is hope, and that seems to be all that M'gann needs to keep going with a smile.

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
Too bad for them to run around looking for food, fearing the clouds. The wise don't care if they are soaking wet, at least. Meggan has already won with the other Meg in her company, her slanting green eyes narrowed in delight. She watches the other turn translucent and holds up her fingers splayed wide. The cloudy swirl takes longer to lose definition, but it's there as she narrows her eyes in concentration. Exotic tones of cream and rose flee, leaving more or less a watery view of the ground below. "I could try glass, but honestly, that's not bound to be very comfortable. I made the mistake of trying to be the Tardis once, and that was unmitigated in its level of disaster." Her grin shifts up briefly, the mest she can manage. "It is freeing to be up there. If you ever want to go flying, you need only say it. Honestly, I'd be delighted to not go it alone, though the birds are plenty friendly."

Friendly birds, friendly gargoyles, friendly crab monsters? It's possible for her to like just about everyone. Everything.

She sighs softly, and a few thoughts spin around, shadows and a dance by moonlight; Miagani Island at her feet, the soft murmurs of the river and the sea joining together. She focuses on the sadness herself, caught with that wounded glimmer. It's an aching sort of awareness.

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to put a grey cloud on things."

M'gann M'orzz has posed:
    Oh, there is a blink. "Wait...did I broadcast my feelings again? I really need to learn to stop doing that." Broadcast....such an odd term to use. And one that gives Meggan a bit more insight. Her fellow shapeshifter is an empath, too. "I didn't have to worry about transmitting so, growing up. Sometimes I forget that I need to be more reserved in my sharing."

    But no...there is no more grey within M'gann, but a bright and warmness as she dispels the negative thoughts from her mind. And...flight? That cheers her right up. "Oh...then let's. Just as soon as the rain stops. I have a feeling there is much we can share...and first up is that view of a fresh, clean Gotham!"

    And, judging from the alien, M'gann means it. There is much to share, indeed.