8780/Hot Pursuit

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Hot Pursuit
Date of Scene: 22 November 2021
Location: Lobby - Four Freedoms Plaza
Synopsis: A hunter and a scientist find people who treat them respectfully.
Cast of Characters: Aldrif Odinsdottir, Susan Richards




Aldrif Odinsdottir has posed:
    Fred the security guard was not hired at Four Freedoms Plaza for the alliteration. He was hired because he's a solid man, grounded, conscientious, not easily phased, and not a hero who'd rather pick a fight than press the big red button under the desk that activates all the forcefields and lasers and biostasis energy fields and stuff. He's paid well for his work, and doesn't fraternize with the bosses but does occasionally go to temple with Ben Grimm. He's a good security guard. The alliteration was just a bonus.
    No one's without an Achilles' heel, though, and Fred's is Johnny's stunts, which is why he's wincing right now, because the glamazon in the off-brand Slave Leia cosplay who's stalking up to the front desk with long, powerful strides that look like they should be echoing on the marble floor but are somehow silent despite being in wedge-heeled boots sure does look like the kind of person Fred wishes Johnny would wait until after 1700 hours to invite over.
    Then he spots her eyes, featureless white orbs atop red streaks down her cheeks that look a bit like lightning bolts. Oh dear.
    The half-naked woman's palms come to rest on the security desk's top as she leans over it. The effect is at once intimidating because of her size and disregard for his personal safety, but also Fred judges himself for noticing the way her hair falls over her shoulders when she leans. In a flat voice, she announces, "I am Angela, Huntmistress of Heven. I will have words with the Fantastic Four, to negotiate for their services in pursuit of a demon who believes himself able to elude my anger." Her tone remains oddly inflected, but it doesn't take much imagination to think she sounds almost offended. "Inform me of the protocols by which I shall achieve this goal, bondsman."
    Fred struggles briefly, then surrenders. He presses the intercom button. "Dr. Richards? There's someone here who wishes to see you. She has no appointment."
    Fred gets paid well for his job, including mental health benefits. He goes into the drawer for a notice that he's taking a day off later this week to talk to a therapist.

Susan Richards has posed:
    Susan's been finding herself a little bored lately. Not to the point of stir-crazy of course, no one wants that, but as excited as she is working on Christmas card lists, and various charity obligations, and planning out the holiday decorations for the plaza lobby, things are... pedestrian. Dull. boring.
    Not that she's ever going to tell anyone that she's overjoyed when Fred calls up and there's that 'Something unusual is going on' tone to his voice, of course. No, no, Sue just finishes the scribbling she was in the midst of and makes her way to the elevator, tapping in a code to override it and take it down to the lobby as an express.
    Because she's not letting Ben or Johnny or even Reed take this chance for excitement from her!
    It's only once the doors are whooshing open and she's stepping out into the lobby, eyes immediately drifting to Fred, only to dart immediately to the guest that Sue feels a little bit like she's actually being responsible in jumping on this chance for entertainment so swiftly.
    Because Johnny would surely upgrade this from oddity to 'incident' with a slip of the tongue.
    Instead, Sue manages her best PR-focused smile, even if her eyes don't have quite that vacant, poster-worthy good cheer, far more calculating, sizing up Angela and barely fighting back the urge to lift an eyebrow as she speaks out. "Well! I'm _a_ Dr. Richards, so I do hope this will suffice? Susan Richards, miss! ...You didn't wind up waking up here after falling into some sort of dimensional rift, did you? I've heard a few of those have been lingering about."

Aldrif Odinsdottir has posed:
    "Dr. Richards, you are not sufficient. You are preferable," says Gladiatrix Barbie in her flat, just-the-facts tone. "I did come to this realm through a dimensional rift, but it was not in the near past, nor was it in this location. If you ask these questions to assess your own responsibility for my presence, I have no reason to believe you caused me to be on this planet. I am here to ask you for a different service." She pauses, then thrusts out her hand toward Sue. "Is this your preferred ritual of greeting?"

Susan Richards has posed:
    Sue lifts both eyebrows at being declared preferable, but she manages to fight back a smug 'That's right, I'm _preferable_, everyone!' smile... mostly. Instead she manages a smooth nod, lifting one gloved hand to offer it into that shake as her shoulders give a light little shrug in that iconic blue suit, "Well, it will certainly do. It's the traditional greeting around here, so it will do fine, won't it? I'm sure if we keep getting to know each other, we'll establish our own tradition!"
    She tilts her head and smiles crookedly, "Oh no! I haven't been doing any research on interdimensional portals recently, and I don't believe my husband has either... my daughter? Possibly, but I haven't seen her running around acting blatantly like everything is okay, so that probably means there's nothing that's gone horribly wrong she's trying to cover up." She sighs and shakes her head, and then offers a crooked little grin, "So! What can the Fantastic Four do for you? What can I do for you?"

Aldrif Odinsdottir has posed:
    One ginger-feather eyebrow lifts subtly at the mention of a husband, which is weird; surely Barbarella here knew about Reed to find Sue preferable to someone else, right? She makes no comment on it, though, and simply answers, "I do not discuss the matter in public. If there is a location in which you feel secure, then let us retire to it. Out of respect for any safety protocols you may possess, I inform you now that I am armed and cannot be disarmed, as well having several innate physical abilities which would make me intensely lethal to you, yet I give you my word that I shall neither cause nor permit harm to come to you while you are in my presence, Dr. Richards."
    Does she always talk like a bot wrote a script for a law firm commercial?

Susan Richards has posed:
    Sue lets her own carefully sculpted eyebrow match that lift, but she doesn't press, merely nodding her head and spinning about, gesturing in mock grandiosity towards the elevator, "Well, the roof has a lovely view, and we're unlikely to be disturbed by tour groups or calamities that may occur in the labs." She glances over her shoulder, eyes darting up and down as her lips press in a thoughtful little line as she murmurs, "Yes, well, I rather thought you might have some unique physical abilities. And please, call me Sue! Or Susan. Dr. Richards makes me feel like I'm lecturing to a class. And if we can handle Ben and Johnny getting into their childish arguments, I think we can allow you to keep your weapons. I feel entirely safe, I promise you." She flashes a little reassuring grin Fred's way, pointing to his time off slip and flashing him a little thumbs up. Yeah. She gets it.

Aldrif Odinsdottir has posed:
    Fred has far too much self-control to cover his eyes with his hand, but his chin dips as if trying to lead his face to his hand. He's a good guy. I hope nothing bad happens to him.
    Angela, meanwhile, nods down at Sue, her violet lips curling into a barely perceptible smile. "Sue, then. I am Angela, Huntmistress of Heven. You may call me whichever gives you more pleasure to say. Do you have transportation to the roof, or is it your preference to be carried? I am amenable to either."

Susan Richards has posed:
    Sue's eyebrows lift high this time, not playfully, oh no, Mrs. Richards is fully, actually shocked for a moment. At least until she realizes that if she _did_ accept that offer, it's not like she couldn't make sure no one would see. She eyes the elevator thoughtfully, then glances back to her guest, back and forth a few more times, "Hmm... well, do you mind having to slouch a touch for several seconds? It's really very unlikely the elevator's going to malfunction and seal us in. That happens less than twice a year now!"
    Sue clicks a heel and begins to make her way towards the elevator with a sway to her hips and a spring in her step, "Come along, Angela! We'll hit the roof and you can tell me exactly what you need from me, yes? I'm sure we can meet your needs."

Aldrif Odinsdottir has posed:
    The corner of Angela's mouth migrates to the right for just half a second before remembering it forgot something at home and returning back to its usual place. "I follow you," she agrees. As Sue's back turns to her, a genuinely remarkable thing happens: upon observing that spring, an expression crosses Angela's face. A whole, actual expression! Warm, proud, happy, wistful bordering on melancholy. If Sue could read minds, she would hear Angela thinking, <<I caused that moment for her.>>
    Angela will treasure that moment, but the moment passes and the next one begins. She composes herself and follows Sue to the elevator. She enters it with a quick visual scan, looking for signs of anything that can endanger her. Certainly there's some high-tech panels that don't look offensive but don't look impossible to conceal a weapon behind, either. She steps onto the elevator with a glance at Sue, looking for the other woman's body language to try to match it, without realizing that's what she's trying to do.
    Maybe the moment hasn't fully passed, then.

Susan Richards has posed:
    Sue's free and breezy and casual as can be... and tries not to think about how some of those panels do in fact contain various defensive measures. But they're all non-lethal, and need authorization to boot up. And Sue's not going to test Angela's claims of lethality and powers in the elevator, and certainly not without asking first!
    Instead she simply taps away at the elevator control panel until the doors swoosh shut and the elevator rises at a rapid pace.
    Sue crosses her arms under her chest, fingers clasping opposing elbows as she glances sidelong... and then uuuuup at Angela. She swears, some day she's going to redesign her costume with built in stilts. "So... Huntress of Heven? Is that like being the huntsmaster in medieval times? You don't really look like you spend a lot of time hunting stags and bears and the like."
    This is what passes for smalltalk in Sue's world, she realizes. But it _is_ smalltalk, and she's not stuck in the lab like a recluse, or her husband, or off causing trouble like her brother. This is nice. This is good. She's missed this!

Aldrif Odinsdottir has posed:
    Angela mimics Sue's posture, facing the doors but looking sidelong and down at the human. She might, MIGHT be smiling just the least little bit. It's hard to tell with this warrior Vulcan thing she's got going on. "I do not know what huntsmasters did in medieval times. I was given the duty and honor of providing food to the other angels, because none were better at it. Heven has no stags or bears, but I suppose the beasts I did hunt would be as like them to us as are stags and bears to you," she muses. "Dangerous if unarmed and unskilled, prey if armed and trained."
    A second glance at Sue reads the woman's discomfort, and Angela is quiet for a moment before acting: she drops to a knee, significantly closer to Sue's eyeline and easier to meet than having to look up. Her dextrous fingers fiddle with the metal plates that cover her shin like a stocking. "Please continue. My boot requires momentary effort to adjust," she explains. How can someone whose voice is flat and emotionless regardless of what she's saying sound like a liar? Angela manages it. What a talent.

Susan Richards has posed:
    Susan lets out a soft little laugh, head bobbing as she does her best to relax, or at least to throw off vibes of relaxing... she's not sure if Angela kneeling down closer makes it easier, or just difficult in a different way, but she draws a deeper little breath as she contemplates and nods, "Yes, that's a... fairly apt comparison indeed. I imagine your creatures had more fangs and possibly fiery breath and the like. I'm sure they're quite impressive. Perhaps I can see one sometime."
    Eyes dart to the flickering numbers above the elevator doors... only another twenty floors to go! She swears this elevator was faster on the way down. Then again, she supposes it didn't have six feet of divine warrior goddess in it then. "So I take it your particular need of our organization has something to do with... transportation? Into space? Somewhere else? If it's something around the city I'm afraid fixing the subway schedule is beyond even our considerable resources. I've done the math." She snorts softly... yep, that last one was a joke. Sue's so good at jokes. They're not awkward at all.

Aldrif Odinsdottir has posed:
    Angela looks up at Sue from her knee, spending a long moment reading the other woman's face and color before declaring in that same Jack Webb impression, "I feel both comfortable and uncomfortable in your presence, Sue. I am uncomfortable because my desire to make a good impression on you leaves me vulnerable to you, and I am comfortable because I believe you are a person it is safe to be vulnerable with. I tell you these things in the hopes that they will silence your heart's secret concerns."
    Maybe she should have stood up for that monologue, but she remains on one knee, fingers absently stroking her calf on autopilot as she keeps up the pretense that her boot needs adjusting for Sue to not have to get a crick in her neck looking up at her.

Susan Richards has posed:
    Sue relaxes and lets out a slow exhalation, lips curving in a slow, genuine smile as she nods her head, "I... thank you, Angela. I feel the same. I'm sure we're going to get along fine."
    She sighs and reaches out, lightly placing a gloved hand on the warrior's shoulder and giving a little squeeze, "And it's alright if you stand up, for one thing, we're almost done our elevator trip."
    Which is right about when the chime sounds, the elevator slows to a stop, and opens onto the roof, complete with various high tech ventilation systems, and a small little relaxed seating area, like a rooftop cafe practically, though given its abandoned nature, it seems it's not open to the public typically.

Aldrif Odinsdottir has posed:
    Angela reaches up and across herself to rest her palm on the back of Sue's hand and squeeze it lightly before releasing and rising. She steps out onto the roof of a skyscraper in New York in late November wearing nothing but a gold-plate bikini and thigh-highs, the wind taking her campfire-colored hair in its grip and blowing it behind her like fourth grade girl's drawing of a unicorn's mane, but neither the wind nor the temperature seems to bother her. She walks over to and behind the chairs, silently waiting for Sue to pick the one she prefers before sitting to join her hostess.

Susan Richards has posed:
    Sue's got no problem stepping out into the brisk air herself... maybe it's the bodysuit, maybe it's clever use for her forcefields. She'll never tell, or at least not without some prompting and cajoling! She moves over to the nearest chair to settle down, back arching just a touch primly, legs crossing at the knee, hands clasping atop lifted left knee as her eyebrows perk wordlessly.
    Her lips stay curved in a smile as her hair is tousled by the wind, not to the degree Angela's eye-catching mane is, but those blonde strands flutter and wave and get ever so stylishly disarrayed as Sue speaks up, "Well, this is likely one of the most private spots on the planet, Angela. So I think you'll be free to tell me anything you want to now."

Aldrif Odinsdottir has posed:
    "That remains to be seen," Angela says, possibly wryly, as she smooths her loincloth over her butt before lowering herself to a chair and crossing her legs as well, chair screeching against the ground as she angles it to face Sue a little more directly, "but I shall tell you my business. I am hunting a demon. He seems to be--"
    The strangest thing happens here. Angela continues speaking in her own voice, but her words don't match her lips at all. It's like you're watching a foreign movie with English dubbing.
    "--in a state of quantum entanglement with a human, possibly existing in an alternate dimension except when called forth to transfigure the host's body. The host does not wish to be disentangled from the demon."
    About here, her words start to match her lips again.
    "It is my desire to find the demon at his home, in order to punish it for crimes it has committed against me. Returning to this world afterward is not requisite to the mission, but would be pleasant." Another little smile. Angela might glance away at the end of that statement, but it's hard to tell where she's looking when her eyes have no features.

Susan Richards has posed:
    Sue's eyebrows pop once more, first at the mention of a demon. That's not typically something folks seek out the Fantastic Four to handle... indeed, she immediately considers whether or not to even mention it to Reed lest he fall down some rabbit hole of whether or not demons are truly infernal or merely extra-dimensional.
    Luckily she leaves a little room for a bit _more_ lift as that dubbing effect takes hold. Teeth worry her lower lip for long moments... now that's something to look into. But not right now. No no, Sue. You can do your own nerdy little in-depth investigation into what was probably magical translation. After the demon is handled. After.
    Instead she simply nods slowly, teeth unclenching as she sighs out softly, "Well, getting you there and _back_ is certainly going to be the goal, yes? I refuse to sign you some sort of one way ticket to a demon's home. Actually getting the coordinates to send you there may take additional work. It's not something we're going to want to take our best guess at, hm?" Lips purse as Sue's eyes drift up and to the right, lost in thought for long moments, lifted right ankle idly bobbing her foot up and down, "I might need you to take me to some of the locations the demon has shown up before, do a few scans for any lingering background energy..." She breaks into a warm smile, "But yes, I'm sure we can help you with this. Absolutely. And if you need to keep visiting me, well, you can always just come up here instead of worrying the front desk, right?"

Aldrif Odinsdottir has posed:
    Angela's gaze drops to the bobbing foot, then rises to eye level again, not that it's easy to tell where her eyes are pointed. "Whether I need to keep seeing you depends on the nature of your work. I can only say I want to. What is the payment you would require for this task?"

Susan Richards has posed:
    Sue lets out a soft little laugh, head shaking, lips curved in a wide, genuine smile that flashes ivory teeth, blue eyes sparkling, "Oh, no! I mean, you don't need to pay. It wouldn't be very charitable of us to charge you..." Her lips purse, left hand vaguely gesturing, "The interdimensional equivalent of bus fare to go deal with a demon." She narrows her eyes slightly, like she's trying to parse whether or not that mention of need is joking, "And you can see me socially as much as professionally. If you insist on payment, shall we say it will be informal? We help you, and if we ever need a favour in return, yes?" Sue tries to think of a way to phrase it that doesn't make her feel like she should be wearing a pinstripe suit and a fedora.

Aldrif Odinsdottir has posed:
    "I do insist. A favor owed for a favor given is an acceptable contract. I commit to it." Angela doesn't offer her hand to shake; apparently, saying it is enough for her. She reclines in the chair, as much as it can what with it not actually being a recliner, and regards Sue over that tiny smile for a moment before straightening up.
    "What do you and I do next, Sue? I assume I am not the only business you have, nor the only social visitor."

Susan Richards has posed:
    Sue lets out a soft little laugh and shakes her head quickly, "Oh, actually I haven't really got any other social plans at least for a couple of days. But I'm sure you've got more important business than keeping me company on a windswept roof."
    She frowns thoughtfully and lifts an eyebrow, "Hm... do you have a cell phone? I mean, I could give you my number, or probably rustle up one of a half dozen different models of communicators lying around somewhere around here. So we can keep in touch."

Aldrif Odinsdottir has posed:
    Angela shakes her head, then runs her fingers over the back of her head past the wings on her tiara, smoothing her windblown hair somewhat. "I have neither phone nor anyone whose company I prefer to be in, Sue. I enjoy your company, and hope to provide you with similar pleasure. If this is agreeable to you, then I propose the human ritual of activity which is intended to provide topics of conversation and distraction from conversation during lulls."

Susan Richards has posed:
    Susan's lips twist thoughtfully as she tilts her head, eyebrows perking in curiosity, "Well! That... can cover quite a few human rituals, I believe." She shrugs lightly and snickers softly, lifting from her seat, stretching up onto her tip-toes, "But if you can think of a social ritual that we can enjoy for conversation and.... lull of conversation, then I'd be happy to indulge you! Just perhaps indoors?"

Aldrif Odinsdottir has posed:
    Angela rises with Sue, and immediately steps into Sue's personal space, almost body to body. She does it to block the wind from Sue, but one could be forgiven for missing that detail, since she didn't explain herself before or after doing it. Meanwhile, she explains, "I think such thinks as we do in Heven would be unwelcome. Perhaps instead we could consume coffee? I am informed that it is an enjoyable task of itself, and also is short enough that you do not risk extended unpleasantness if you discover my company disagreeable."

Susan Richards has posed:
    One eyebrow arches so very high... not as Angela's sudden closeness, no Susan takes that in stride, in fact, she almost presses a half-step closer. Maybe to better allow the amazonian warrior to block the wind. Maybe because Susan's not going to let someone think she'd shrink back from sudden closeness, because she doesn't back down!
    But then she's smiling wider and nodding quickly, "Ah yes! Coffee. The finest human tradition for getting acquainted with new friends. And I'm sure I'll find your company as intriguing and enjoyable as it has been discussing these more serious matters." She lifts an eyebrow and murmurs softly, "Now, shall we take the elevator down again? Or we just want to leap off the side of the building? And don't think I'm not going to ask about what exactly the Hevenly ritual is. I'm curious now.... is it hunting down the wicked and engaging in glorious combat?"
    She doesn't really sound like she's joking... glorious combat seems to be one of those things that a lot of cultures she runs into consider good icebreaking.

Aldrif Odinsdottir has posed:
    Angela examines Sue carefully, even critically. "I would enjoy carrying you to ground level, but given your discomfort with the temperature, I am uncertain you would. I leave the choice to you and your preference." Aware her legalistic wordiness is just prolonging the amount of time she's forcing Sue to spend up here in the cold, Angela steps closer (she doesn't know Sue has wind-blocking forcefields) and doesn't answer the question asked just yet.

Susan Richards has posed:
    Sue shakes her head with a little laugh and stretches her arms above her head, fingers lacing together, "Oh, no! The suit's fairly insulated, and I've got a few other tricks... I mean, I'm never going to find below freezing temperature as welcoming as the beach, but I think I can handle you giving me a lift."
    The shorter blonde steps in towards Angela and frowns thoughtfully, "Hm... you know, I've never been carried through the air in a casual situation... it's usually more a 'grabbed out of the sky during a disaster' thing... how do we... uhh..." Her brow furrows and she sighs out.
    "Tell you what, why don't you just tell me where you want me? Oh, and the coffee's totally going to be my treat."

Aldrif Odinsdottir has posed:
    Angela rests her palms on Sue's shoulders and looks her squarely in the eye. "You are safe in my arms, Sue. You need do nothing for me save that which increases your comfort." And with that, she scoops Sue up in a bridal embrace, one arm behind Sue's back and shoulders, the other under her knees, supporting the Invisible Woman's weight between them as if it was nothing to her; which of course it is. She cradles the human against her chest, allowing Sue a chance to notice that even Angela's metal bra is warm despite that really not being how metal works in cold temperatures, before the roof of the Four Freedoms building begins to fall slowly away from them. Angela has lifted off!
    Still holding Sue close as she begins her leisurely descent, Angela comments, "You may direct me to the location of your choosing."

Susan Richards has posed:
    Sue is definitely going to have to get used to her newest friend being _very_ serious, but it's just nice to have a newest friend! And then she's discovering said friend can hoist her up with ease... not that Sue's really surprised by that. She makes use of the Baxter Building gym too much to be surprised! ...Also, Thanksgiving is still a few days away. Sue can't resist kicking one foot up in that bridal carry, her other knee bending just so as she lifts one arm to loop around Angela's shoulders. She's got no doubt she could catch herself if anything went wrong, but she's also sure this serious goddess is earnest about not dropping her. Plus, she's a flying space heater. Totally magic.
    Sue lets her attention shift, peering down at the cityscape, frowning thoughtfully... and enrobing them in an invisible bubble so no one's gawking and pointing and getting into traffic accidents because of the duo floating through the air as Sue racks her brain. Starbucks is _far_ too pedestrian a choice. Maybe a little out of the way cafe? Somewhere there won't be enough people for a ruckus.
    For a split second she almost thinks 'A ruckus if anyone recognizes us', but... well, she's in full on uniform, and it's _way_ past the time she can play it off as a Halloween costume. Drat. "Uhhh... head a few blocks east! Then south! I think there's a little cafe that does live jazz."
    Sure, a jazz cafe on a Monday afternoon. It's the next best thing to having your own fortress of solitude!

Aldrif Odinsdottir has posed:
Angela proceeds eastward at not much more than a brisk walk, not wanting to kick up a biting wind Sue would have to pay for. Her finger curl comfortably around Sue's ribs and knee, strong and supportive. She smiles a little at the pointed toe pose, and comments, "Pretty. What is the last word you said? I speak every language, but I do not always understand the context. I only know that it is music?"

Susan Richards has posed:
    Susan lets out a soft little laugh and lets Angela support her entirely, head shaking and arm not laid across the warrior's back gesturing vaguely, "Thank you. You're a stunning sight yourself! And it is indeed music! It's not nearly so popular a genre as it once was, but I figured we might enjoy somewhere a little quiet and out of the way more than... you know, dropping down into the midst of a bustling coffee shop and drawing all the attention."
    Not that Sue's terribly worried anyone would cause actual trouble, after all, she's famous, and Angela's got that 'I'll hit you with a bus' energy.
    Sue shakes her head with a soft little laugh, "And don't worry about it. The fun of meeting new cultures is slowly discovering things. Life can't be all science experiments. Or hunting demons. You know, depending on which of us you're talking about."

Aldrif Odinsdottir has posed:
    Angela nods. "I accept this," she declares, floating several dozen feet over the streets of New York, holding Sue. "Though hunting demons is not a thing angels do. We do not interact with demons. I hunt this one to pay him back for a specific offense he has given me, and because his host has requested it in exchange for such information as he could give. Our ways are very different from yours, Sue."

Susan Richards has posed:
    Sue nods solemnly... well, some value of solemnly, as her eyes sparkle playfully, "Yes, I gathered that... I mean, I'm sure your ways aren't entirely dissimilar. We also attempt to do the right thing. Admittedly, I'm curious what your version of coffee and music is. But like I said, we can discuss these things gradually, over time." She points again, to a small doorway halfway down the block they're descending towards. It's practically a hole in the wall. If it served alcohol instead of coffee it'd probably be one of those dive bars that doesn't even get mentioned on a food show about dive bars.
    "And see? Even more reason for me to help you! We're friends now, I won't hear a word against that, and as such this demon has committed a personal affront to my _friend_ and so I'm bound to help him get what's coming! And as you're my friend, of course I have to make sure you come back from it."

Aldrif Odinsdottir has posed:
    With some regret, Angela sets Sue down. She didn't notice that they were invisible because invisibility is hard to notice even if you're Heven's huntmistress. Still standing outside the door, giving Sue a chance to get back her land legs, Angela explains, "We would have enjoyed those things, I think. I am not well-acquainted with my people's dating rituals, because very few angels could tolerate the sight of my deformity. I believe that if you were an angel, then instead of asking you to coffee, I would have told you that I find your company enjoyable and desirous, and then I would have asked you for your permission to kiss you so you could then determine our compatibility."
    All that, explained with about as much apparent emotional attachment as Sue might have explained that the equator is the middle of the Earth relative to the magnetic poles.

Susan Richards has posed:
    Sue drops the invisibility bubble just before they land, just above roof height... sure, it means anyone on the street's going to be a little shocked as the duo comes to ground, but that was always going to happen, and Sue's just going to have to accept it. She stretches her legs as she's lowered, a little unsteady as she keeps her arm on Angela's shoulder for a few long moments.
    Of course, she's got her feet back under her and steady enough that Angela's explanation of what might have been doesn't bowl the heroine over. Sure, it brings a furious flush to slightly pale cheeks, and her mouth falls open, and her eyes widen like a deer in headlights. But she doesn't fall over. That's the important part.
    "I... wait, your... what?" Her eyes take in Angela slowly... her eyes, surely? It must be unsettling to not know where the woman's looking, but it's not _that_ unsettling. It just probably makes doing magic tricks and slight of hand on her tricky. Sue coughs and clears her throat softly, "Oh! Well... ah... yes, asking permission for that is important. As is determining compatibility." She heaves out a soft little sigh and grins ruefully, "I'm afraid coffee is far less... ah... forward than that tradition but... well, perhaps we take things more leisurely here on Earth, yes?" She draws in a slow, deep breath and holds it... counts down from ten, exhales just as slowly... no need to be flustered when she speaks to the barista after all. Sue for her part isn't sure she could actually answer where the magnetic poles of the Earth are right now. Today hasn't been a day of alien invasion or cataclysmic world dooming chaos. But she's used to those! This is so much more rare. She's _flustered_. That's not something she's been in awhile!

Aldrif Odinsdottir has posed:
    Angela orders her own coffee, and as she waits in line for it in front of a barista who's really doing his very best not to stare, Angela informs Sue, "It is considered polite in Heven to be clear about one's intentions. I have no intention of pursuing romance with you. I am aware of your marriage, and I have heard you describe me as your friend. I like you, so I wish to honor these conditions I have observed."

Susan Richards has posed:
    Sue orders her own coffee, heavy on the sugar, a little cream, and nods her head with a soft little laugh, lips quirking as she sighs out, "Yes, well, I suppose it's polite here too. Most people simply haven't got the confidence to be quite so open about their personal intentions." She shrugs her shoulders with a crooked smile, "But it is very flattering to know you'd ask me that, yes?" She tilts her head thoughtfully and quirks an eyebrow, "So! What do you get up to for fun around here when you're not trying to get a ride to another dimension? I'll admit, my own social life has been... somewhat neglected. This has been a very remarkable day for me."

Aldrif Odinsdottir has posed:
    "Then I shall endeavor to continue making it remarkable," says the combat lingerie-wearing space babe as slides her forearm into the small of Sue's back to guide her toward a table. The gesture could come off possessive or even intimate, but something about the way Angela does it makes it seem protective instead, like she should be wearing a black suit and an earpiece as she instructs Sue, 'This way, ma'am.'
    "My social life is similarly neglected, on Heven and on Earth. You see..."
    The camera zooms out and the volume fades.