5693/Something something something will change later

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Something something something will change later
Date of Scene: 23 March 2021
Location: Central Park
Synopsis: No description
Cast of Characters: Lydia Dietrich, Achilles

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
It's a cool spring evening, and activity in Central Park has started to die down. Lydia had decided that an afternoon in the park would be an ideal way to waste some time, and shake away the writers block that's been plaguing her for the past couple of days. She's dressed sensibly in jeans and boots, with a warm looking sweater and her thick, unruly brown hair sticking out from underneath a beanie.

She's settled down in one of the open areas of the lawn, feet tucked up underneath her and her journal sitting in her lap. The ever present ectoplasmic mists that constantly surrounds her glows green in the night, occasionally attracting an errant moth. In her lap is her journal, which she is staring forlornly at. Usually when she comes out to places like this she gets inspiration to write at least /something/ but nothing is coming to her tonight. So instead she places her pen in the mists and watches it as it lazily rotates and floats there.

Achilles has posed:
    Living in Brooklyn means that Angelo doesn't get into the city as often as he might like. But today, he's been in town for other *ahem* business. Business involving that silly little SHIELD (ARMOR) badge in his pocket. But this left him near the park when he was finished.
    Near the park, tummy grumbling due to forgetting to eat lunch. That means it's time for a bit of food-cart-dinner. In black jeans and a simple long sleeve tee, he gets the New York style Hot Dog from the vendor, along with a bottle of water.. he heads out into the lawn area to find someplace to sit and consume his tasty tasty dinner.
    And... green glow? He inclines his head and takes a bite as he just kinda stares.

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
It takes her a bit but Lydia finally looks up from the floating pen to notice that somebody is staring at her. She gives Angelo a smile and a wave, drawing attention to it and calls out to him, "Go on. Ask about it. Everybody does eventually." Despite the writers block she's in good humor today so this isn't said with any kind of spite or malice.

Achilles has posed:
    Blinking a bit, Angelo chews the mouthful of hot dog, holding up a hand.. bottle of water held in it. His index finger raises skywards as he chews. Then after a few seconds, he swallows.

    Then he gives a sheepish smile. "Forgive me." he says in just the barest hint of a Queen's English accent. Like someone who has spent years trying to divest himself of it. He lifts his bottle and takes a gulp to wash the bite down before moving closer. "I was merely observing. Granted, with curiosity, but I was not planning to intrude but.. since you are so gracious. Perhaps I don't need to ask for you to know what it is I wish to know?" he asks as he steps a bit closer.
    "But first, I am Angelo." he says as he sets down his bottle and reaches a hand out in greeting.

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
"Lydia" she says, taking Angelo's hand in hers. When the softly glowing green mist touches Angelo's skin, it feels cool and tingly, like if somebody had rubbed mint on it. Doesn't have a smell, though.

"It's ectoplasm," she explains, waving a hand through the mist, causing eddies and whorls to form in it. "I'm a mutant so I kind of keep generating it. It's not really something I can turn off, as you might expect." She holds out a hand, palm up, and the mists contract until she's holding a small, green glowing bird. "Plus I can do neat things like this with it."

Achilles has posed:
    "Huh." remarks Angelo. But he finds himself wondering if that is what the waters of the Styx might feel like. It's not like he has any memory of his bath there. He was a baby at the time. But that is not something he speaks about. Really to anyone these days. He's three thousand years old, and still loves that the world can surprise him at times.
    His face breaks into a bit of a grin and he inclines his head to the right, "Ectoplasm? So, no slime?" he asks. "I mean, I thought Ghostbusters was a documentary." he adds in jest.
    And then he witnesses the ability to manipulate the stuff, and his brows try to climb up his hair line, "Now that is most impressive." he says.

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
Lydia laughs, dropping her hand and letting the bird dissipate back into mists. "Yeah. That's a common misconception, otherwise every time a ghost comes around there'd be slime all over the place." She tilts her head off to the side and gives a small shrug. "They're more common than you'd think. One of the side effects of having this is that I can sense when ghosts are around. I can't /see/ them or anything. I just know that they're there."

"So," she says, leaning back on the bench. "What brings you out to the park other than food?"

Achilles has posed:
    There is a sudden stillness to Angelo. If he knows the lore right... ghosts might gather about the one who killed them. And he has killed thousands of people over his many many centuries. He is suddenly worried that there are many MANY ghosts haunting him. Anyone from Hector to Penthesilea... from soldiers in one war or another that he took part in.
    But after that brief hesitation, his green eyes relax and he shrugs, "Dinner." he says, hefting his hot dog. "I live in Brooklyn, and it's a bit of a trek to get there. Figured I'd eat -before- making the trip. I'd ask you the same thing but... I think it may be self-evident."