655/A ferry trip, this time without sea monsters. Hopefully

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A ferry trip, this time without sea monsters. Hopefully
Date of Scene: 20 March 2020
Location: Liberty Island
Synopsis: Beatriz pitches an idea for a charity to Thor.
Cast of Characters: Beatriz da Costa, Thor




Beatriz da Costa has posed:
    The phone call comes in. Bea has been thinking about the plight of veterans, and in particular the plight of those wounded badly in combat. Disfigured. Clothing for people missing arms, legs. Various ways of dealing with veterans with massive scarring. Ways to make them feel good about themselves that doesn't break their budgets. A few phone calls in the industry and she's got it set. All she needs is the face. And Thor had the face. She'd seen how much attention he attracted by just being there.
    She almost bites her fingernails as she dials. Only years of being smacked in the back of the head by her handlers suppressed that instinct.
    "Uh ... Thor? Prince Thor, I mean? This is ... ah ... Beatriz da Costa. We met at that fundraiser...?"

Thor has posed:
    The call comes through, the screen lights up a bit green. Then she'll hear a rattle and what sounds like ice clinking in the background? Against glass? But then there's the rush of water from somewhere followed by a man's voice yelling, "Thor!"
    Another pause, "THOR!"
    "Your phone is on and making noise."
    Which leads in turn to the sound of thumping and footsteps assuredly, more glass clinking and ice. Then there's that muted rustle of sound which often signifies a phone being moved around, only for it to end and then there's the voice, "Greetings?"
    A pause and then the voice returns, "Ah, Lady Fire. Indeed. How may I be of use?"
    In the background there's that voice again, "Lady Fire?"

Beatriz da Costa has posed:
    Of course Thor can't see it, but that makes Beatriz grin like a little girl. "Just Fire. No nobility in my blood that I know of," she chuckles. "But yes. I'm so glad you remembered me." Again invisibly she chews on her lip a moment before continuing. "The fundraiser got me thinking of something. It sounds ... well ... frivolous, but it isn't. I'd like to know if I could meet you somewhere to talk about it. Just to keep everything on the up and up, I'm going to unfortunately ask to use your formidible presence and personality to assist this, but I'd appreciate the chance to pitch this to you in person."

Thor has posed:
    "If I can be of some aid, then certainly." There's a pause as the phone again makes a rustling sound, perhaps changing hand or swapping to the other ear. There's a faint beep from somewhere but it's not entirely clear if it's his phone or something nearby. "Tell me the time and I shall be there. Bide a moment." A pause and then she might her a muffle of a hand settling over the receiver but she can still hear Thor's voice rather clearly.
    "JARVIS!"
    << Yes, sir? >>
    "Is there aught that demands my time over the next two days?"
    << There is the shipment tomorrow of the brandy to replace all that you have consumed the last two days, Master Odinson. I doubt you would wish to miss that. >>
    "Now that is rude. I do not like this recent manner of yours, JARVIS. I shall speak to Stark about this."
    << Of course, Master Odinson. >>
    Then the hand moves on the phone, probably wasn't even on the receiver at all. "Beatriz. My time should be free these next two days."

Beatriz da Costa has posed:
    The willingness set, establishing time and place was easier. Time is Bea's to command for herself. Place ... somewhere public (don't need rumours spreading just yet) but also somewhere people can't suddenly "accidentally" wander by.
    "How about on the ferry to Ellis Island?" she suggests. "Nobody can let out any kind of a call to bring down the press on you if you just suddenly show up before departure. By the time the paps show up, you'll be out on the water."

Thor has posed:
    "Ah," The voice on the other line is heard and she can imagine him likely nodding to her words, "That is a smart plan, Beatriz. I should have thought of such before. It would have simplified many things."
    He makes a hrm sound on the other end of the line, "Very well, name the time and I shall arrive then as needed."
    And with that they establish their plans, the time is chosen, the day. All they had to do was pass that time before.

Beatriz da Costa has posed:
    After hanging up ... ALWAYS CHECK THAT FIRST! ... Beatriz lets loose a whoop. Time to get all the paperwork together, lay the ducks out in a row and sight in the BB gun. Oh, and select the right outfit. Same as the night of the fundraiser? Or something more casual? What would a prince want? He seemed down to earth, but also pretty noble. Decisions decisions. In the end she decided to go in the same outfit she wore at the fundraiser, if only to be more easily recognized. Then, at the appointed time, just before the ferry departed, giving the paps the smallest amount of time possible, she stepped onto the ferry, eyes peeled, looking for the towering blond.

Thor has posed:
    She looked and looked, at that stream of people rushing on at the last minute, that small stream of humanity across the gang plank. The waters were a little rough today, so the number of people boarding weren't quite as many as there usually were, but still appreciable. But there was still no Thor. No hint of a tall man at the ticket kiosk, no blond man rushing about in sunglasses and secret agent baseball cap. No sign of the man at all.
    Then the ship started moving and it's as if all her plans were dashed. No Thor, no endorsement, no face to offer to the fundraiser. She was there upon the deck in that beautiful green and alone.
    And then there was a low /whooosh-whumpf!/ as upon the upper deck she'd likely hear something hit. It was just that single impact, and then there ws that voice, "Greetings, mind if I take a small break here? Conductor?"
    The ferry administrator blinks a few times and then says, "Ummm, sure?"
    To which Thor answers with a smile. And then he is walking along the way, stopping by the railing surrounding that upper deck and casting his eyes beyond clearly looking for someone. And when he espies her from his vantage point, dressed in his rather, from a fashion standpoint, regrettable ensemble of jeans and workboots and a denim jacket, she'll see him lift a hand and point at her with a wry grin on his features.
    "There you are."
    And with that he hops down off the upper deck and approaches her.

Beatriz da Costa has posed:
    That look on her face, with her eyebrow raised and a mixture of awe and incredulity. That hand on her hip as she regards him. That smile. That welcoming, and somewhat overwhelmed smile.
    Then that hand. Extended for a handshake, paired with the shaking of her head, locks flying in the breeze, looking for all the world like the green flame locks she sports in her other form.
    "Prince Thor. You never cease to astound, do you?" she asks with a friendly laugh. "That was a very cunning approach you took. I'm very impressed. You're obviously both gifted with intelligence and well-experienced in the ways of the less deisrable parts of the press."
    Her eyes rake his look over with professional expertise. Her inner voice screams. Another inner voice holds back the urge to correct. Not your business. He's a prince.

Thor has posed:
    

    "Or," Thor says as he shakes her hand, not the warrior's clasp he often uses with his countrymen or others he's fought alongside, but the more gentle one reserved for those in the polite society of Midgard. "It could be that I was simply late."
    And as he says that his smile eases more to the mischievous though he also shakes her hand gently, covering both of theirs with his free hand and then stepping to stand by her side near the railing as they can both watch the docks recede behind them.
    Say what you will about his ensemble, however, it does fit him. The hooded sweat shirt under that grey denim jacket. Both look like favorites of his and are clearly well-worn. The jeans seem fine, though likely they are just plain old as opposed to the trendy 'distressed' label they like to slap on such things these days. And his boots are a worker's boots, brown and leather but fitting him.
    Yet the thing most prince-like about the man is the smile, the bright blue eyes, the way he just holds himself as if he were in on a joke the world was not as he stands there giving a small smile and wave to the people taking his picture and posting it to social media.
    Then it's back to her, "So what would you have of me? I am at your service for the rest of the day should you so require my presence."

Beatriz da Costa has posed:
    Manoeuvering the pair around to a less popular part of the ferry, Bea looks out across the water, suddenly nervous of suggesting this what now seems so frivolous and idea. In the end it's the smile that encourages her.
    "My own business interests," she starts, "Prince Thor, lie with fashion. Clothing. I model. I design. At the fundraising event we first met at, I was looking at some of the veterans involved and thinking how sad they looked. Not sad as in emotion, but sad as in pathos-wrenching. It's very hard to look good on the kind of money that they make from pensions and the occasional do-gooder." She makes an embarrassed chuckle. "Like me, to be frank. I'm of the donate and forget variety usually."
    She takes a deep breath and goes for the pitch.
    "I've spoken with colleagues in the industry and I've got some committments from designers, models, and manufacturers for this idea ... provided I can get a good face to represent us. My idea--and believe me, I know how frivolous this is going to sound--is high fashion for our wounded warriors. Bespoke designs for veterans, time and fabric done at cost by some of the better names in the business, where we help people who suffer from disfiguring injuries have a chance to feel good about themselves."
    Pitch made, her mouth dries up as she stares at Thor, hoping he understands what she means.

Thor has posed:
    Following after, Thor pauses once they get a fair ways away and leans against the railing there. The umbrella in his hand is tucked light under his arm and rests there for now, making only a slight /whum/ of sound when it's moved that first moment. His eyebrows incline as he listens to her words, following along and adding the needed nod at the right points.
    She takes her deep breath and his eyebrows lift.
    And then the pitch and to be fair he attempts to maintain that calm smiling look but his eyebrow goes up and it's clear he perhaps does not get it at first. But then she elaborates about disfiguring injuries and he nods slowly, "Ah, yes." He nods, "Yes, we have had something similar in Asgard. When our warriors have fallen or paid a price for their spilling blood upon the battlefield, at times our smiths will create suitable weapons or armor so as to fit their new form. Or each warrior with the loss of an eye or limb has a suitably crafted piece that aids them for the future. Not simply prosthetics and utility, but to lend them a gift for which they can be proud and present themselves as a warrior true."
    He nods, "A noble goal."

Beatriz da Costa has posed:
    Bea didn't even realize she'd been holding her breath until those final three words expelled the air from her lungs. She grins foolishly and throws her arms around Thor briefly (retaining the sense at least not to squee) until realizing what she was doing causes her to release him quickly as if he were on fire.
    Ironically.
    "Oh, I'm terribly sorry!" she gasps, covering her mouth. "I'm just very excited and where I come from this is normal. I shouldn't have touched you like that. Sorry."
    She regains her composure and tries to plough on through the little faux pas.
    "Our intent here is to circulate requests for donations among certain elements of society that like to apepars as if they care for veterans. You met many of them at the fundraiser. We'd like you to be the face of it all. Not any money, nor much work beyond some photo shoots and maybe an interview or two." Or ten. "We'd also, given your home's rather formidable reputation as warriors, be honoured if you could perhaps think of a good name for this campaign. A name you'd be comfortable backing."

Thor has posed:
    A small laugh and Thor offers, "It's quite alright, Lady Fire." He says her name there pointedly, as if they were going to stand on formalities then the title returns. But he rests a hand on her shoulder and gives a good squeeze, nodding to perhaps remove some sting from that perceived faux pas.
    But then she lays down the task before him, telling him what she wishes, what she will require of him, and then the suggestion for a good name. "Ah, it should not be about us, Beatriz." He taps a fingertip upon that railing, looking thoughtful. "Not something keyed off of myself or my people. It should be about yours and what they have endured. It should be about warrior's pride." As he says that he nods once.
    Then he uncurls a hand, "And if you come up with something I will likely find it acceptable. If I don't I shall let you know but I trust your judgement in this matter."

Beatriz da Costa has posed:
    "Please, just Bea," 'Lady Fire' murmurs. "I'm just a fashion model." It's not registering at all what Thor's trying to say, partially because the physical contact of that hand on her shoulder is sending a mess of distracting signals through her awareness. Like 'god is he strong' or 'those are very blue eyes'.
    She thinks a while. "I'll come up with something then," she says, "or hire someone who can. But I should tell you that a lot of our warriors have intense admiration for yours. Emblems related to you and yours are common in our armed forces' badgework and unofficial nomenclature. I'll consult with some of the target market and see what kinds of names work for them, however."
    She forcibly relaxes herself. "You have no idea how happy you've made me here. So many people think worrying about clothing is frivolous, little understanding how important self-image is for the health, mental AND physical, of a person."

Thor has posed:
    "I am glad, and if all it takes of me is some time to speak and answer some questions? Who am I to refuse?" That said he settles into the journey, resting his arms upon the railing and smiling across the distance of the waters, leaning forward and looking entirely at ease. He takes a deep breath and murmurs, "It has been some years since I've sailed anywhere."
    His eyebrows lift up a bit thoughtfully as he looks to the side, "I've been on ships at times, briefly. But to actually take a ship to travel..." He rubs a hand at his chin thoughtfully and then murmurs, "I believe the war was the last time."
    That said he smiles a little, "So you have given me a gift, Bea. Rekindling memories is a fine thing for those of us from the Golden City."
    That said he turns to the side to look at her again and smiles a little, then turns his blue-eyed gaze back out upon the ocean.

Beatriz da Costa has posed:
    "I imagine immortality weighs heavily on memory," Bea says quietly. "The ages start to blend together as history doesn't repeat, but at least rhyme?"
    She, too, looks out at the ocean with a peculiar little shiver. "I think I would go crazy. I'm only ... a low number of years in age." Something in that amuses her, from the look on her face. "Against you probably an infant. Or a zygote even. But I've already seen history rhyme. I can't imagine what it would feel like to be many thousands of years old."
    She turns her head away from the water and toward Thor, finding his blue eyes far more intriguing than the green-blue water around them. "How do your people cope with that? With the sheer weight of history behind their persons?"

Thor has posed:
    "Well," Thor says with casual aplomb, turning to look at her as he uncurls a hand, "I'm not many thousands of years old. Not a day over 1300..." There's a pause as he considers and then looks at her with furrowed brow, "Or perhaps 1301?" He sits up a little and then adds, "Hnh." As if that surprised him.
    That having been said he uncurls a hand toward her and says, "Ah, as to that." How they cope with it. "Well we are a culture that embraces the tales of our past. Our history is conveyed orally for the most part and we remember the stories around which we've grown. Perhaps an... idiosyncracy of our people. But if we take our experiences and put it to song, or a poem, or just a good retelling, it stands the test of time."
    He gestures out to the ocean as if there was all of reality to be seen there, "It is why we have so many artists, almost every Asgardian has some talent that helps them hold what is dear to them fresh in their minds."
    A small shrug is given, "But I am no scholar, such is all I have been able to discern from my own experience."

Beatriz da Costa has posed:
    "I have no talent that helps hold things fresh in my mind, but I have no need of one. It's an interesting approach you describe, however. I had no doubt that you had a mechanism to cope, but I also had no idea what that mechanism could be. Thank you for sharing that piece of your culture's soul with me."
    She snorts then.
    "My talents lay in the past in knowing how to act and look such that people wanted to give me money just to be in their pictures. I'm not sure that would help much in a thousand years."
    Again her eyes drift away from the sky blue to the sea. "Then I learned to fight and investigate. Then this happened." Her eyes flash brilliant green a moment before settling to nothing once again. "Nothing that is memory-related. I'd make a lousy goddess."

Thor has posed:
    "Ah, but you live your life more voraciously than we do in some ways, Bea." Thor says with a nod, "Every day is ever striding forwards, to experience the new, to achieve. Many of my people do not have that necessarily. Not that they are sedentary, more that they are... comfortable."
    That having been said he smiles a little and gestures with a nod, "We all have our gifts, however. I am sure if you were given the years so given to my people you would develop some talent to aid you."
    Another pause then his eyebrows lift as he looks to the ocean, "Though you should not speak ill of your beauty. It is a gift, and sharing it with others is a kindness."

Beatriz da Costa has posed:
    Bea looks sidelong at Thor, clearly amused (and charmed, if that slight flush at her ears is anything to go by). "Thirteen hundred years has given you a silver tongue, your Highness," she says, turning to face away from the sea and instead leaning against the railing in a well-practiced pose as if there were a photographer telling her to pose. To turn into the wind. To work those hips. To push those out like you're proud of them. To pout. A pose so artificial yet, from years of practice, that flows out of her so naturally it seems she built it up herself from first principles extemporaneously.
    "My beauty--thank you for that--is, however, fleeting. I already see the signs of its fade. Had I gone the route of so many of my fellow models, I'd be facing the end of a career with no other skills or talents to fall back upon. Thankfully I have several. I'll still have a few more decades to live 'voraciously'."

Thor has posed:
    She likely has heard all of the aphorisms, all of the metaphors about beauty and the passage of time. It would be easy to relay them, offer them in his own way. But he does the honor of not doing so, instead he just nods, accepting the inherent injustice of such a state, but also its inevitability. So he smiles, with a slightly sad tilt to his eyes, but he will not dishonor her by offering a falsehood or placation.
    "I shall be pleased then, if I survive and live long enough to see them." Those years left to live, voracious or not.
    That having been said he gestures with a nod toward the island, likely indicating her endeavours, and what she brought him here for. "And you continue onward. Attempting to make the world better. So think at the least you have touched my story, and I have touched yours. And together we shall be remembered by those who follow."

Beatriz da Costa has posed:
    "That sounds," Bea says with a grin, "like something that should be spoken as part of a toast, but tragically I brought no wine with me. Perhaps, when next we meet, I will remember to bring a bottle and we can drink for real, but for now we will only be able to simulate it."
    With that she mimes a glass in her hand, held up as if to clink against a mid-air fantasy glass in Thor's hand; miming drinking from hers if he participates in the sham.

Thor has posed:
    A small chuff of laughter slips from him and he nods to her, holding up his own illusory and invisble drinking glass, gestures with it in her direction, and even says lightly, 'tink' before he takes an imaginary sip and then tosses it off into the ocean.
    "To the future then," He offers in way of thought then he straightens and he smiles to her, "Come, let us walk the deck and see the skyline from on far. Manhattan is a beautiful place."
    And with that he will offer her his arm and should she allow it conduct her about the ship as if it were their very own.