7245/Not The Best

Not The Best
Date of Scene:	06 August 2021
Location:	Palm Tree Boulevard and Post Road
Synopsis:	Minor scene about tea and being a teacher.
Cast of Characters:	Friday, Madison Evans, Beatriz da Costa

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Friday has posed:
"Oh my god this is so boring!" The brunette sits outside the apartment on the lawn, papers strewn about a blanket, and nearly shouts the indignation she feels at having to grade papers. Papers done by students who have no real interest in her subject. Papers done by normal everyday kids.

She falls backward onto her blanket, the motion sending some of her test papers into the air. They float off, about to turn into zero grades for some students who really don't deserve it. They don't deserve much MORE than a zero, but giving them what they earned seems almost like bullying.

"Why am I a teacher again?" she asks the sky above her, shaking her fists. She does not notice the runaway paperwork. Not that she'd exactly mourn their loss.

Madison Evans has posed:
    Look - when a ninja shows up out of nowhere and gives you ninja homework - you do it. You don't talk about it, because apparently secrecy is key. But you damned well do it. And that is why Madison has been tearing around town on the bicycle she'd insisted her mother buy for her - helmet responsibly clipped into place over her messy brown hair. She's not sure what riding a bicycle has to do with being a ninja- sorry, a kunoichi - but she's not going to argue with her new teacher.
    What happens next is straight out of a cartoon. One of the papers slaps Madison in the face, startling the girl and blocking her vision. "Oh God oh God oh CRAP!" In what is completely the wrong instinct in this situation, her hands jerk at the handlebars, causing her to veer abruptly to the right, hit the curb, and fly over the sidewalk to crash onto the grass.
    "....ow."

Beatriz da Costa has posed:
Bea, for her part, has just been chilling, bike parked in the shade, pan of soapy water, sponge, pan of clean water, chamois, wax, and polishing cloth all laid out for her to clean and shine her bike.

Large cooler with imported Peruvian beer next to her.

Bottle of ice cold beer open in her hand and mid-guzzle when all this breaks out.

This naturally leads to a fountain of beer that arcs onto the road as Bea fails to hold in laughter. Setting down the bottle carefully (because you don't want to be wasting any more of the precious gold!) she crosses the street, on an intercept course to grab a few of the flying papers out of the sky.

"Hey, Chica!" she calls out to Mads as she catches paper. "You OK there? Do you need an ambulance? Cauterization services?"

Wait, what?

The answer forms from the green flame about four inches long extending from Bea's finger as her dancing eyes check Mads over for any hint of actual injury.

Friday has posed:
Isabella is on her feet like a shot when she sees/hears the accident. She slips on her own papers trying to get there as fast as possible, finding that paperwork tends to be more slippery than your standard section of ground, and another student gets their paper back later on with a big-ol bootprint on it. Not important.

"Shit fuck," she says with her usual lack of perfect school-appropriate linguistics. She tries, she really tries to help, reaching for Madison. "No dying, no death. Swear at me, swear at the flaming chick. It'll tell me that you're alive."

Flaming chick? She glances at Beatriz, then shrugs. Later. "Also tell me that isn't one of my test papers that's caused this."

Madison Evans has posed:
    After the 'ow' comes laughter. You know - the kind caused by a sudden burst of adrenaline. Besides - she has to admit that what just happened probably looked pretty damned funny. "Did anyone-" She has to stop as she bursts into another fit of laughter. Madison tries desperately to rein it in. "Did anyone get it on camera?" she finally manages.
    She climbs cautiously to her feet - checking out her arms, and lets, and hands. There're scrapes. There's a little blood. But - and this is the important thing - there's no broken bones. She doesn't think so anyways.
    "You said 'fuck,'" Madison repeats. "My mom doesn't let me talk like that." Never mind that she's talking to an adult. Well - two adults. Beatriz earns her gaze next as she studies the green flame. "Umm... No cauterization required."
    The paper that had been on her face? She crashed onto it, and it's smeared with grass stains and mud. She picks it up and offers it to Isabella. It //is// a test paper.

Beatriz da Costa has posed:
"How does that dork say it? Oh, right. Flame off."

The flame goes away.

Bea steps up with a grin, handing Isabella the pieces she's managed to pick up. "Here's what I rescued. That's ... most of them?" She looks at the papers quickly, wincing. "Ew. You'd ... better invest in some dice for grading. Reading this is going to hurt your brain cells."

Mads gets another look. Moving, check. Bit of scraping. Not an issue. Doesn't seem to be any brain damage. Good. Just a funny life lesson.

"Sorry, Chica, didn't have a camera running. I was about to clean the bike. My cameras are allergic to water," she says apologetically. "Pity too, 'cause that would have been a great fail video! You're a natural!"

Her eyes wander to her lime green bike.

"Tell you what, I'll let you drive the monster and I'll get a camera ready. We'll try and get a paper in your face when you're driving past. How does that sound?"

Friday has posed:
Isabella didn't get a video of anything; she was too busy causing the accident in the first place. "I say a lot of things, most of them awful lately," she suggests as she takes the paper and glances at it. Most students or parents would call it ruined. She'd call it slightly improved given the way her grading's been going thus far.

A look toward Beatriz gets a raised eyebrow. She quickly asks in Portuguese, "You're far from home, chiquita?"

Then back to English so everyone can play along, she adds, "My students don't seem to be quite on board with the geography assignments I set them. Or I'm a crap teacher, at this point I'm entertaining the thought."

To Madison: "You certain that you're alright." It is not a question, really.

Madison Evans has posed:
    "...I don't think I should be trying to stage a crash. I'm pretty sure that's a dumb idea," Madison replies. "Oh well - the moment was lost. Maybe next time I eat it - yeah?" She beams brightly - before adding more seriously, "Or maybe it's for the best. Maybe eating it on my bike the first week of school is not the best way to make more friends..." But what does she know.
    As for her condition, Madison checks herself over one more time before deciding, "Yeah, I seem okay. Though... I mean, ow. Like I said." She concentrates on her scuffed right elbow - holding her left hand near it and taking a deep breath in - and letting it out slowly. It may be hard to tell, with the mud over it and blood on it, but the blood oozing out slows... and then stops, as the minor wound begins to knit back together.

Beatriz da Costa has posed:
Quick response in Brazillian Portuguese: "Home's over there." This is followed by a courteous (accented) English: "Home's over there." Both of these are paired with a wave at the apartment building the bike's parked in front of. "Today, anyway. Tomorrow... who knows? I'm Bea. Beatriz da Costa."

She looks up and down the street conspiratorially. Holding her fingers before her, spread out, they erupt in long gouts of green flame.

"Also I'm Fire of the Justice League, but don't tell anybody. I'm keeping it a secret."

She looks up and down the street again.

"I'm really terrible at keeping secrets, though. Don't tell anybody that either."

Friday has posed:
Isabella nods to the Portuguese, but is polite enough to use English otherwise in order to keep the crashed girl in the conversation. "Isabella," she offers, then gets this odd look on her face as both Fire lights up, and Madison visibly heals up.

"Am I literally the only person in this town who can't do anything magical?" She asks it out loud, shaking her head. Then she adds, "Sorry. My school teaches a lot of supers of a variety of types. They're still failing Geography."

She looks back a moment then starts picking up her papers. "Sorry about the accident. And the accompanying panic. Can I offer either of you some rhubarb tea? It's all I have right now but I brought enough to keep me alert through this grading garbagepile."

She might not be a good teacher.

Still. Hm. "Okay, awesome to meet you Fire. I think."

Madison Evans has posed:
    "Whoa... Justice League? Cool!" Madison says with eager excitement - before realizing that she was told to keep that a secret not 2 seconds earlier. "Errr. Yeah. How cool that you've... //met// the Justice League," she tries in a totally-believable voice. Right? ... right?
    "Umm, but isn't the Justice League supposed to be fighting aliens right now? I thought they were coming to take the planet again or something. I mean, not that they'll win, of course."
    She tries to peer at her elbow - but it's tricky and doesn't get her very far. Damn. Well, it feels better anyways. "You can make tea out of rhubarb? I though that was just for... you know, strawberry pies."

Beatriz da Costa has posed:
To her credit Bea doesn't do a facepalm. Not quite so much to her credit, it's written all over her face. She really WANTS to do a facepalm.

"It was a joke, Chica!" she says laughing. "I don't hide who I am. No point. It's really hard to hide that you're a 2000 degree mass of pyroplasm. Also, who's going to go after someone who can turn into a 2000 degree mass of pyroplasm anyway?"

She looks across at Isabella. "I got a cooler full of beer if you want the other side. It's cold. In this weather that's maybe something we'd all rather enjoy?" She gestures to the tests. "And it takes the sting off of reading that."

Back to Mads. "I've been hearing about that, but nobody's called on me yet. I got the J.L. comms thingie turned on, so ... if they need me they'll call me I guess. Probably handling it fine with the Supes' and Peej and company. Don't they have a couple of Lanterns up there right now too? Those dudes can handle anything!"

Friday has posed:
Seriously bemused, Isabella shakes her head. She lets Beatriz have her mini-rant and sorts her papers a little, not commenting on the JL or the Alien Menace just yet. "You can tea just about anything," she says, responding to her own address, then listens herself a bit.

She looks at the skies, a bit of concern on her face, and sighs. "Well, I hope so. It's a nice planet, I'd hate to lose it." She offers them both hands to shake, but insists that she has to finish her work. "Much as I hate it, and this is going to end me, I need to get it done. Glad you're okay."