731/A Superlative Dining Experience

A Superlative Dining Experience
Date of Scene:	24 March 2020
Location:	Planet Herowood - Times Square
Synopsis:	Karen and Janet have a talk about Power Girl's prospects as an Avenger.
Cast of Characters:	Janet van Dyne, Karen Starr

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Janet van Dyne has posed:
One of the reasons Planet Herowood does so well is because of the high celebrity presence. Not just 'oh there's an Instagram influencer who raves about their Smoked Babyback Ribs'; it's because there's a non-zero chance of diners spotting a real-life superhero coming in to sit down and eat. In fact reservations and wait times are usually hours long and there's a strictly enforced 60 minute dining rule to keep selfie-seeking shutterbugs from camping the place 24/7.

Janet van Dyne, of course, lives for such attention, so just getting to the table takes a few minutes as she mugs for selfies and candids with fans, and even poses near her heroic-looking carboard-cutout counterpart. Anyone ordering the Wasp Wrap (blackened chicken, corn, and yellow peppers) automatically gets a discount on their meal while she's there.

For Janet, it's one of her stylish new outfits instead of the familiar Wasp ensemble: a near-transparent dress the color of tarnished bronze, with a liner that matches the more natural, polished hue. It's worn as a halter with a twist just below her throat and individual sleeves that leave her shoulders and upper back bare. Kicky knee-high boots in black and a tassled fringe to the skirt leave her legs daringly exposed to the lingering chill from New York's coastal weather.

She hands her coat off to a waiter and looks to Karen, tucking her purse under her armpit. "What do you think? Private table in the rear, or d'you want to get in on the general seating and be mobbed by the paparazzi?" Janet inquires of her companion.

Karen Starr has posed:
    Karen had... -Intended- to come by this place in costume, for sure. Alone, though. Not with company- nor, really, with company of such prestige as an Avenger. It had started simply enough: Power Girl was lingering around the Avengers Mansion, in part because some business had taken her to New York, and in part to inquire about whether they'd finished their deliberations.

    It was primarily just something akin to a meeting. Karen was invited to get a chance to talk to Janet, spend some time. Get to know each other, considering it's possible that they'll be saving the world together. At the very least, that's how she was seeing it.

    There was, though, one minor problem. If she'd come alone, she could have very easily claimed to be a cosplayer. 'Oh, the scorchmarks are -airbrushed-', 'Your costume options are limited by-' and so on. With Janet here, Power Girl can't pretend not to be Power Girl. It's her fault, partially- Tony had warned her about secret IDs. Hell, she already met Clint and Wanda as Clint and Wanda.

    But, here she is. A person that could lift this building over her head, about to try and find out if they can make a good burger.

    She doesn't have a coat to hand off, so instead she unclasps the shoulder pauldron and hands her half-cape over to the waiter so as to not feel left out of that transaction. It's also a little cheeky. There's a kind of... Shudder and noise from the waiter. She ignores that.

    "Uh, I don't- I don't know. Think it's up to you, honestly." She isn't sure which will result in weirder or worse headlines. Being out among the cameras, or going into a private booth with Janet Van Dyne, thus allowing the 'Razzi's heads to swim with potential, often scandalous, rumor-mongering farces.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Private booths if you don't mind," Janet informs the waitress with a flashing smile. "Love to stick around and chat folks up, but we really could use a private place to sit and talk."

If Janet's worried at all about the nattering of the press, it doesn't show; she walks on with perfect confidence, head up and a handbag worth as much as a small car dangling from her forearm. They move to a row of booths that are a little segregated from the others with modest privacy screens. Hardly a 'secure area', but it's at least enough to create the social illusion of separation from the rest of the restaurant.

""You know Steve got me going to places like this?" Janet tells Karen convivially, and settles into her seat. "First date he ever took me on-- I mean like, proper date-- and he picked an Outback Steakhouse. Now I've got kind of a taste for fried onions and ranch dip," she tells the Kryptonian. "But don't tell him that, or else he'll start telling me to give up my private table at Le Cirque. There's only so much fried foods I can stand in a week," she explains.

The purse is set next to her hip on the bench and Janet flashes a smile at the waitress who is hot on the hostess' heels. "Cosmotini for me, lime twist, no sugar," she requests of the woman. The server pivots to Karen: "And anything to drink for you to day, Power Girl?" she inquires with the polite indifference to celebrity of a truly well-seasoned New Yorker.

Karen Starr has posed:
    For her part, Karen isn't so much worried as she is preternaturally expecting to be annoyed. There's always a tabloid headline, and Karen's are... Always much more bothersome than most. For about a week, a month after she started operating as Power Girl, she received a number of calls for help from plastic surgeons who wanted to know what techniques were involved.

    She sits down, sliding calmly into the depths of the booth in a way that will probably become the fourth or fifth conduct guideline she'll be asked to follow.

    Smiling politely, she leans on the table and holds her gaze on Janet's face. "I don't remember the first place I went, with the last person I dated." There's a pause, then, "Then again, it's been a while." And it was a different universe. Difficult memories. "But that makes a whole lot of sense. Place like these, little diners across the country... These are the heart of America. I think I'd be kinda terrified if he didn't have an infatuation."

    Pleased by the politeness and professionality of the waitress, Karen nods. "Yeah, long island. Keep them coming." Her gaze, then, returns to Janet.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Mm, I was in boarding school when I started dating," Janet says with a nosewrinkle. "I missed out on the whole 'corn-fed American dating' with the kids at the local burger joint. It was more 'let's borrow someone's yacht and head to Ibiza for the weekend'."

Fingertips flitter that line of conversation away as irrelevant and she focuses a smile on Karen. It's a weighing expression that looks keenly observant and is rather surprisingly incisive coming from someone as ostensibly vapid and self-absorbed as Janet often seems to be. "So. You've seen the Avenger's Mansion now, and met some of the team. What do you think of the group as a whole?" she inquires of the blonde. "I don't know if you got a chance to get some face time with Thor yet, but if you can, you should. I think the two of you will get along like a house afire." A beat. "Maybe go careful on that Asgardian Ale if he offers you any; I've seen what that does to capes. Steve and Thor once ended up getting a noise complaint filed because they were up singing drinking shanties until the wee hours. It packs a punch," she remarks, drolly.

Karen Starr has posed:
    Karen lets that line of conversation be, mostly. There's a lot she could say- Much of it, even, would elicit a chuckle. However, delving into her history is just going to cause confusion. Instead, she just relaxes in the seat, and offers a chuckle. Janet's history of wealth is, at least, amusing.

    Nodding along afterwards, Karen's eyes move out onto the general area as she awaits her drink, and thinks about, simultaneously, what she wants to eat- she reads the menu of a nearby table -through- its occupant- the question that she'd just been asked. The idea of Asgardian Ale.

    "Well, I haven't had a chance to meet many of you. Tony's been really supportive. Agent Romanoff, maybe a little less so." That was almost an altercation, to be fair, but she doesn't go into details.

    "Haven't met Thor yet. Sounds like he knows how to have a good time, but I think we'll all be bothered by how well I hold my liquor." Not magical liquor, of course, but -all- Asgardian booze can't be magical, can it? Either way, she doesn't linger on it for long.

    "The team as a whole seems... Solid as a rock. Tony told me about how casual you all are. I have to admit that it seems to be working."

    High praise, coming from someone whom is -still- only known as Power Girl.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"We do try to stay busy," Janet agrees modestly. "And don't mind Natasha. She does that to everyone. She's pulled guns on me a few times because her instincts get ahead of her brain. Once she warms up to you, she's just about as cuddly as a porcupine. Which is a step up from 'poisonous adder', but at least she leaves you be if you leave her be," Janet reassures Power Girl. Or at least, tries to.

"Listen, the Avengers... I mean, I was never a League member. But we're not really big on the 'dues and weekly meetings' thing. We live in the Mansion pretty regularly. Even Tony. We're tight. The League, it always felt like Superman kept things pretty informal." Eyes flicker pointedly to Power Girl's face to look for any sign of a reaction to the name-dropping. "You know. 'Call a friend if you're in over your head'. We're a little more proactive than others. We go out looking for threats before they show up and we dig deep when we find them. Helps that so many of us are military, or government, or have deep connections in the private world," she clarifies. The waitress arrives with drinks; Janet requests some onion rings and sends her off again. Fingers curl under the cosmo, balancing the glass on her immaculately manicured nails. "We don't like getting caught flat-footed, and we try to work within the government when we can, or without them if we have to. Cuts both ways sometimes, too, but genereally we do good work."

She sips her drink. "I guess I'm wondering why you're interested in joining us," she says, frankly. "I don't know much about you and you've got a reputation for getting it done on your own. And successfully," she observes. "What're you looking for in a ... well, team, I guess?"

Karen Starr has posed:
    When the drinks are delivered, Karen idly plucks up her altogether more brutish glass in one gloved hand. It's thickly armored where it needs to be- and makes her seem less feminine despite everything else. How well her hands compare is left a mystery.

    "Yeah I'm sure she and I will get along fine. Black Widows are, after all, highly venomous..." There's a pause, as she takes the first sip of her iced tea. "To humans." Her delivery is impeccable, as it's not entirely easy to tell that she's kidding around.

    "Don't worry, I'm not a member of the League either. When it puts itself back together, maybe- Hopefully, even. But until then, I just do what I can for the world. Hard to keep up sometimes." She has a good poker face. She's spent over a year getting over the loss of -a- Superman. Just not this universe's. Around eight months ago, there would have been pain. Now, she just takes another sip of long island. For the rest of the breakdown, Karen continues to nod along. It all makes sense. "Understand, I don't much like being told what to do." A pause, "That's not to say I can't work with a team, but I'm not going to hang back and let another Genosha happen because there are politics at play." A shorter pause there, for another sip.

    "That isn't, of course, to imply that the Avengers let Genosha happen. That's just the kind of scale we're looking at. We can't hesitate. Not for a minute. Not for a second. We can be smart about it- we can have a plan- but we can't -hesitate.- Even if the cost was only one person's life, it'd be too much." Sure, it's a little granstandy- and hell if it doesn't sound like something Steve might say... Or, rather, if Janet's familiar at all...

    It might sound like something Superman would say.

    After another pause to let that sink in, and to consume more of the long island, she answers the final question. "I can hear the planet. There's a lot of muddling in that statement, so let me be as... Clear as I can. If I don't tune it all out, I can here every person on the face of the Earth. Most of the time, unless I focus on what's close by, I can't get much. Except the intense things. The screams. The prayers, sometimes. The sound of violence. In the end, it drives me to see if I can be part of something that has a greater reach. There are people like us everywhere, but even so- after the Invasion, I can't imagine that we don't need some coordination. Maybe I don't -need- a team expressly. I'm definitely not sure what criteria I'd even judge you by. But I think the world needs us all to work together. I'm sure of that. Because I don't think things get any easier from here on out."

    As Tony would say, that sounds exhausting. Except, why does it also sound like she's talking from a place of -experience- rather than speculation?

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet 'hmms' softly, still cradling the drink and giving Karen a look of thoughtful examination as the Kryptonian starts exhorting her perspective on decisive action. And in truth, it stirs a little something in Janet's spine, because: well, it sounds like something Superman would say. Would do. Living a life for other people, not just for himself.

And though she's not aware of it, a small smile of approval curls the corner of Janet's lips.

"That's probably the hardest thing about being one a team, Peej-- can I call you Peej?" Janet inquires. "Particularly a team of relative mortals."

"I mean, we need our beauty rest. Even Thor sleeps. I have a business to run. Steve works for the government," she explains. "I don't know what Natasha would /do/ if she took any downtime, but I assume it's something she finds relaxing. You two might have more in common there than you think," she says wryly.

"So we can't keep up with you going 24/7/365," she explains. "And one of the hardest things to learn is to not try to solve every problem yourself. I'm absolutely sure you can ... I don't know, fight a whole army of Kree single-handedly," she pitches. "It's a question of if you'll listen to Steve in a combat situation that I'm driving at. Or Tony if it's an engineering problem. Or me if it's a fashion emergency, which -does- happen more often than you'd think," Janet says with a flashing grin. "Not that you /can't/ do it by yourself, but whether or not you're willing to trust other people to get it done in their own way."

Karen Starr has posed:
    She can't help it, frankly. She spent a long time learning how to be a hero from one person. She's always wanted to, when it gets right down to it, be more selfish. Yet, despite that she might have had every opportunity, there's just something about that group of aliens. Can't not do good. The wires don't connect to the right ports.

    "Yeah, I don't really see why not." For the moment, there's a contentment. She made Janet smile. That's good, and honestly? It makes Karen feel good.

    In truth, if Karen were pushing it, it'd be so easy to book it high enough to see the sun or book it to a section of the planet that's solar-facing, such that she'd not need sleep. She'd be lying if she said she hasn't done it, and she'd be doubling down if she said she hadn't done it more often than not since she picked up heroing. Kal always told her, though, sleep feels great and even Kryptonians need -real- rest. Maybe she didn't learn -all- the lessons perfectly.

    "I don't operate... All the time. And while I do feel like I've got a varied skill set," Understatement of the year, Ms. Can-Hit-You-With-The-Moon-At-Mach-102. "I'm never going to pretend that, no matter how fast I am, I can be in four places at once." Notice she didn't start at Two.

    "I trust that if I'm getting advice from Steve, it's because he's probably seen something like this before. I trust that if Tony tells me how something works, it's probably because he built it, or that someone ripped off something he built. However, there -are- some things that are off limits, Ms. Van Dyne." she offers, folding her arms for effect. It's just as unfair as one would imagine, very likely even moreso.

    "The suit -stays- sleeveless."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Honey, believe me, with guns like that it'd be a crime to put you in a full bodysuit," Janet says dryly. She clutches her martini glass by the stem and swings the rim towards Power Girl, offering a clinking of rims in salute. "I've tried to get Steve to go with the combat vest look and I just get lectures about 'military appearance' and 'sunburns'. As Irish as he is, I'm not sure there's any amount of super-soldier juice that can overcome that particular hurdle," she says.

The remnants of her drink are tossed back and she flags the waitress down for a refill. "But if you ever /want/ some design notes, say the word. I love draping folks in the community. I hate working with supermodels, bunch of skinny divas they are," she snorts derisively.

Karen Starr has posed:
    The most casual she's been for the entire night, Karen nods quietly. "You're damn right," she states, uncurling one arm to pluck up her glass and clap it quietly against the other woman's. That she even can is some... Horrible testament to self control. How long must it have taken her to learn how not to just crush, knock over, and destroy everything she touches? A question for another time, perhaps. "I have to admit, it's nice that we don't have that problem."

    In solidarity, Karen finishes her drink. Rather rapidly, another is brought for her as the waitress returns with the onion rings. Karen smiles at the woman. "I'll have the Captain." she requests, "Medium rare." Half a pound of all American grass-fed ground chuck. Because of -course- that's what it'd be.