Owner	Pose
Simon Williams	There's been a new book release, boys and girls! That's right! In his stunning memoir "My Life as a Super Man", renowned actor and superhero Simon Williams recounts his time on-set of the hit 2015 film "Justice Rising" where-in his gripping portrayal of the Man of Steel bagged him an Academy Award nomination. A signing table has been set up in Excelsior Books and an orderly queue has formed. Well, as orderly as can be expected when one of Hollywood's biggest stars is in town. Fans dressed in Wonder Man merch can be heard chatting about "Avenge This!" preproduction news and the excitement is palpable.
Heather Danielson	Okay, so there are days, and then there are 'DAYS'. Heather has had one of the latter. It's been a giant Clusterf*** all day long. First, she was given the wrong address, and then when she finally made it to the shoot location, she was over an hour late due to New York traffic. Then her photographer got sick (food poisoning from lunch apparently). Finally, the whole thing was rescheduled for next week.     This means that Heather wasted the entire trip to Manhattan from Metropolis where she lives. And so the blonde was in a rotten mood as she drove her little blue rental compact car through the New York traffic some more. Finally.. she pulled over and got out because she was -starving-... I mean come on, she needs tons of calories a day.     So she approached a hot dog street vendor and bought three of his most highly heaped Chili Dogs. That was when she spotted the sign across the street at Excelsior Books. Her eyes went wide as she closed her teeth on the first bite of her second dog. So the first is done, and her burning inferno of a tummy has stopped yelling at her to FEED ME SEYMORE!...     Her blue eyes went wide... and she traipsed... yes traipsed across the street. She's been a Williams fan since she was just a wee little girl. Now that she's gotten her picture on magazine covers... maybe she'll get a chance to talk to the guy. Either way....     The little bell over the door jingles as she steps inside, brim of her St Louis Cardinals baseball cap pulled down over her eyes mostly. What? She thinks it makes her incognito. News flash, it doesn't....
John Constantine	John Constantine doesn't want to be here. It's not that he thinks Simon Williams is rubbish. He just thinks Simon William's, you know, whole _thing_ is rubbish. There's a very distinct difference there, and it happens to rest at the very top of a short hill that John will, without much provocation, gladly die on. To be fair, there's an entire countryside full of those small hills and John does a pretty good job surviving, all things considered. There's one thing that could bring him out here, thought: magic! Okay, there's two things. The other thing is his wife. Partner. Baby mama. The apple of his eye. His other half. A blonde bombshell with about as much chill as an active volcano. John keeps his collar up as he trails behind Meggan. "Are those kids doing a TikTok dan-- bloody TikTok."
Meggan Constantine	"We have to go." That plaintive statement made as absolutely as 'the sky is blue' or 'bald billionaires are bad' was probably made a reasonable time ago. Meggan, keyed in on every happening between Gotham to London to New York, lives and dies by social media. Sometimes both. It helps that even clicking a repost of the Excelsior Books event will net hundreds of additional likes, thousands of views, and probably two extra guests from her millions of followers. Even when she taps out 'Ethical and sustainable publication deserves to be prized. Knowledge is the tool and the means to escape oppression by corporations who don't care about you.' Other people may be in blatantly bad moods. She happens to be in a sublime mood, only partly overshadowed by the occasional temperamental explosion now and then. But is that so bad? Or common? Eventually they pop right up. Tiktok on the lips of John Constantine brings the blonde looking past his shoulder, leaning back just so. While her native and general form is a bit taller than him, she's modulated that fact for the outing; partly because her heels do a lot of the work. "They are! We can go check them out after." A swivel places her in front of the magician, and she leans forward. "Please let me say hello? We've come all," a long drawn out aaaaall, "this way and you've been such a sport about it." A kiss dropped on his cheek is the thank you along with the other thank yous that actual fae don't often speak. Skirting the rules, she bounces on her heels. "Now let's! I've watched that movie so many times!'
Simon Williams	"Hellooooooooooo, New York /City/!" booms a voice from the sky just outside of the bookstore. Floating about fifty feet in the air is the (wonder) man himself, arms stretched out wide and winning smile in full effect. Ionic energy crackles a bright red around him as he descends to street level, soaking in the feverish cheers that have exploded in response to his arrival. His feet light upon the ground and the energy dissipates, security ushering people out of his path so he can make it into the door and take his seat unimpeded. Running a hand back through his hair he offers a snapping fingergun to the crowd and waves the first guest forward to sign. It's a woman in her late eighties who's shuffled up to the table and begun to gab about how much he reminds her of his late husband. She might be here for a minute.
Heather Danielson	Well, maybe this day (or evening) can be salvaged. Heather grins as she hears the older woman gabbing. She has no qualms about waiting patiently. She's been the one on display enough times that she is happy to give the man his due. Plus, she has two chili dogs to eat.     It -is- an odd thing to see a teen girl of her build (model skinny) eating like she was practicing for competitive eating challenges. But she finishes her second by the time the old woman has finished chatting to Simon.. and she can't blame the woman, he is quite the good lookin' guy. The problem is that he knows it.     And finally however, she gets to the front of the line and realizes she didn't bring a book to be signed. "Can I buy one here and now?" she asks just after swallowing the last bite of Chili dog number two.     Then she licks at a bit of chili stuck at the corner of her mouth.
John Constantine	"I'm just shocked you ask me for vestigial permission at all in all this, luv," John admits to Meggan with a snort. It's not like a) they aren't here already, b) he wouldn't do practically anything for her, and c) he could stop her if she was determined to do something. The woman is a literal force of nature. "Looks like someone up there's competing with you for top fan, my love," John tells Meggan with a teasing tone, giving Heather a double-take when he sees how much food she's packing.
Meggan Constantine	"What, and miss dinner? You might hie off and start a riot somewhere. Think I'd turn down a chance to smack a cambion running a club so it can prey on rioters?" That's apparently conversation as far as the bubbly blonde English rose prefers. Meggan shakes her head, sending the spun silver and golden locks dusting over her back and sticking to that filthy trenchcoat John wears. "It's a good pitstop. An /important/ one, cos it's not like he's stopping round the Lake District none where I would find him." Him being the flashy red energy signature and Simon himself, and she will damn well laugh as brightly as the sun dawning over a lovely summer morning. "I'm not a /top/ fan. That would be preposterous and awfully presumptuous. Presumposteruous?" Portmanteau fail, most certainly, but laughter follows the statement as she nudges her way through the crowd. It helps to be with an actual punk, while dressed something like a punk, and floating when she forgets to walk. "That's okay! She probably waited a long time. All's fair, she can be the first to say hello." All the excitement in the air is literally her supper and probably dessert, after all. Squeezing John's arm while watching Heather and Simon converge and the pensioner totter off happy as a clam, she adds, "'sides. None of them have what I've got, and that makes me plenty lucky, y'reckon?"
Simon Williams	"Absolutely!" Simon responds to Heather with a broad grin. Another fingergun points her way and he leans forward on the table, making sure not to buckle it under the weight of his super form. "I would've traded you one for a bite of one of those chili dogs, but it looks like we're both out of luck," he says, flashing a wink at her. He reaches over to grab one of the books sitting off to the side and readies his pen. He taps it idly for a moment as he studies her and then points it in her direction. "You were in that Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue, weren't you? I dated a few of the ladies in that one," he says, mulling something over. "Heather...something...right?" he ponders aloud, dark eyebrows lofting out from behind those sunglasses as he awaits her answer.
Heather Danielson	Blushing a bit, Heather nods her head, "Yeah. That's me. Danielson. Yeah. I had a poster of you on my wall." she says almost dumbly. But then she shakes her head, "I mean... not like I worshipped you or anything." she adds, and then she backtracks. "I'm just digging deeper and deeper, ain't I?" she asks in her midwest accent.     "But yeah, I was the yellow bikini on the cover a couple years back. Then all the hubbub happened and I ended up joining the Titans." she adds. But she hands over a debit card to pay for the book (to the store people that is).. and then holds it out, "I have the single dumbest codename ever, but I didn't get to pick it. The press did. They call me Knockout... so if you could make it out to that name, the other Titans will be -so- jealous."
John Constantine	"Flattery will get you everything, luv," John tells Meggan with a roll of his eyes and a laugh. As they get closer and closer to Simon, John starts to look around to see if he can find an exit; something to do while his wife talks to the movie star. Heather mentions the Titans and John looks around, suddenly terrified there's going to be a bunch of super-teens mobbing him. It wouldn't be the first time...
Meggan Constantine	"Better honey than vinegar," Meggan quips. A slim finger applied to John's ribs aims to poke him, daring where few demons would brave. The poor man might want to flee while the opportunity remains, but the crush of people outside Excelsior Books is an impressive gaggle. The surest way out is up. "Do you want me to nose-wiggle a rug for you?" Tilting her head sends her ponytail swaying again. Something to do while the line things away. Eyes gleam a brilliant emerald, only momentarily disrupted in their hue. Mostly her mood sparkles, fizzing along with everyone else. Impatience is only a small risk as she eavesdrops openly at Heather admitting her Titan status. Ooh, fancy. John's spike of anxiety following it, though, has the anticipated effect of circling her around his path and sending her aloft by about a meter. The better to see /if/ any of the many, many (oh so very many) Titans are in residence and about to pounce. "Ooh, do you think Beast Boy would sign a--"
Simon Williams	"I bet you one book that it was the poster from 'Fighting Force Five', wasn't it? Or no wait..." he studies the young woman for a moment and snaps. "Romance on Mars," he guesses. "That one was very popular. Always felt like they guy the eyes wrong, though. Not enough sizzle," he says with a grin, sliding his sunglasses down to reveal the nebulous and shifting black and red eyes. A Wonder Man Wink follows. Setting his glasses to the side, he scribbles his signature out on the inside cover along with an inscription that says 'Hope to buy your book one day. I'll trade you a chili dog.' "Knockout's not bad! Try being Wonder Man for a mission. Doesn't really roll off the tongue during a fight." "She's definitely a 'Fighting Force Five' kinda gal," he says, gesturing to Meggan further back in the line and flashing her a grin. He'll gesture to Heather that she's more than welcome to stay off to the side as he signs and chat. Gotta keep that line moving, though.
Heather Danielson	"Well, if I went by Wonder Man, I might confuse some young men." admits Heather, "I don't think I have quite the physique to pull that name off." she adds as she steps off to one side with her newly acquired (and signed!) book. But she stands there grinning like an idiot. Whomever said, never meet your heroes... well they were a little bit right, but a lot wrong!
Cheyenne Brawley	Toward the back of the gathering throng, silhouetted against the shop windows in an all black, three-piece suit, enters a young man: Buster Brawley. He whips the tattered ballcap off his head and makes a cursory attempt to straighten the side part in his sloppy curls, a die-hard habit of someone brought up with traditional values. He steals a pensive glance at Wonder Man's table, makes as if to stride into the back of the queue, then steps aside. He paces a few meters, twists on the heel of his brightly polished cowboy boot when he reaches a bookshelf, and ventures another shy glance at Wonder Man. Thusly he paces back and forth for a while, mouth moving subtly, and silently, as if he were rehearsing lines.
John Constantine	John rolls his eyes a little bit and then squeezes Meggan's waist. "In what world could you ever produce anything close to vinegar, luv?" But then Meggan goes and mentions fucking Beast Boy and John _pales_. Few things fill John Constantine with terror, but super-teens is one of them. He'd rather having a barefisted boxing match with Etrigan than have to have a conversation with that green little demon. "Luv, I'm going to go check out the bookstore's occult section... maybe leave a little present for some curious young lad or lass wants to get into the esoteric arts, yeah?" He kisses Meggan's cheek with a grin, distending from her. "See you in a bit."
Meggan Constantine	Problem with being an empath in a crowd, it's so easy to miss certain cues. Especially as a bit of anticipation flows over and someone else spills out excitement or anxiety, or the welcome that washes over Meggan in waves. None of it registers except as an additional set of psychic calories that sustains her, on par with Heather gobbling twenty chili dogs in a go. She has the similarly trim waistline to match. John's loss of colour brings her to ground without a noise, eyes widening and mouth a round circle of worry. "Are you going to be all right?" A question asked more for pretenses than fact, for she glances back to Simon and twiddles her fingers in an erstwhile wave. Cheyenne from a distance will have his chance to break through if he likes. Mostly because the unconscious need for space in John -- that getaway drive -- is a living current through her, reflexively pushed by Meggan to open some space up. "Charming, go see if they've anything good. Yes, we should-- just... that. On then, you know? I'll catch up with Mr. Williams later, with any luck, or send him a nice post of this. Coupla snaps oughta do?"
Simon Williams	Continuing to waste away his day with scribbling and smiling, the line eventually begins to dwindle to a more manageable size. Folks are mostly just milling about now and checking out the store's vast selection of used books, all still riding the high of meeting the one and only Wonder Man. Standing up from his table, Simon streeeetches and moves to stand next to Cheyenne, eyes moving to rest on the shelf he's studying. "Look like you're in a pickle, friend. Having a hard time picking out a book, eh?"
Emma Frost	Emma Frost enters in with a purse slung over her shoulder. Scoping out the location. The blonde isn't using her telepathy as she would enter in, wearing a business suit with a purse slung over her shoulder. While going in Emma would go to take a small file out of her purse to skim it, "Some things are better done in person.."
Cheyenne Brawley	Buster's eyes dart up. The color has drained from his face, but he endeavors to speak. A hoarse squeak ushers through his lips, and he clears his throat. Whatever words he had been practicing him have fled in his hour of need - he looks past Wonder Man, gaze distant for a moment, but at length, he seems to relax.      "Mr. Williams," he begins in a slow, Texan drawl, rotating his ballcap in his hands, "well, on behalf of myself, and anyone else who won't ever have a chance to tell you, I just really wanna thank you for all your work." His mein grows solemn, and a hint of moisture wells in his eyes. "I mean, you were a big inspiration to me." He nods once, vehemently, and swallows hard. "You're one o' the reasons I'm here." Another nod and he makes to shuffle to one side, doffing an invisible hat. "That's all I wanted to say, sir. I know you're as busy as a one-armed man hangin' wallpaper, so I'll get on."
Simon Williams	"Don't worry about it, I'm on break," he says with a grin to Cheyenne. "And thank you for your kind words. Everything I do, I do for the fans," he says with a grin. "Love the look, by the way," he says, checking out the man's outfit. "But it /is/ missing something," he says, lifting a finger in indication that he'll be right back. He swaggers his way back over to the signing table and picks up the aviators he'd set aside while talking to Heather. Walking back to Cheyenne, he holds them out for him to take. "It'll tie it all together. Trust me," he says, one of his glowing red eyes snapping closed in a quick wink. He will steal a quick look at the entering Emma Frost because, well...who wouldn't, right?
Emma Frost	The quick activity has Emma Frost look Simon's way as she would look at him in a 'trying to place him' sort of expression on her face while she would once again tuck the file folder into ehr purse. "Simon Williams, correct? I did love you in 'Ninja Mime', I think? the one directed by Roger Corman? I enjoyed it a great deal as a child."     Light mirth in her eyes, her presumptions in the matter accurate or not in the slightest.
Cheyenne Brawley	"Oh no, Mr. Williams," Buster stammers, waving his hands in a criss-crossed, forfending gesture; though he sneaks a quick glance at the shades, resulting in a shadow of duchenne glee that passes over his features, "I couldn't possibly - they look WAY better on you, sir." Grateful for the distraction of Emma's approach, he shifts his position slightly, giving her a solid vantage point to take the lionshare of Simon's attention. Eyes on Wonder Man, he eagerly awaits a reply to the woman's inquiry.
Simon Williams	Still waggling the sunglasses at Cheyenne, Wonder Man says, "Don't I know it. That's why I bought a factory that makes them for me. You'd be surprised how many villains go straight for the face." His offer will remain extended towards Cheyenne as he turns to note the arriving Emma once more. "Really? I would've pegged you as a 'Ninja Mine 2: Justice is Mute' fan," he says, his free hand coming to rest on his hip. "What can I do for you? We've still got some leftover books I could sign for you," he offers.
Emma Frost	Emma Frost would shake her head, "no, no, I'm fine. I was merely here to drpo off some paperwork. I've found that you can evaluate how well a bank treats business by seeing how they do things in person rather than letting automated systems handle it. So what's your latest project then, Mister Williams?"     Emma would turn her head over to Cheynne, "And is everything all right? You seem disoriented young man."
Cheyenne Brawley	Jaw so slack it rests on his collarbone, Buster takes the pair of sunglasses from Wonder Man's fingers as if he were delicately picking up a baby bird by its wings. "Thank you SO MUCH, Mr. Williams," the Texan says with a heavy measure of reverence in his tone. "I'll put them in a safe place when I get home." He studies every minute detail before placing the glasses on his face, low on his nose so can peer over the lenses into Emma's eyes. "Hot damn, ma'am," he says brightly, beaming, "everything is MORE than alright, I tell you what." Ducking to Simon's side, he jogs a short distance away, dodging patron and bookshelf alike until he has sequestered himself in a dark corner.
Simon Williams	"And look at that, a stone-cold stunner," Simon says, gesturing to the newly-shaded Cheyenne with a smile before his attention returns to Emma. "Well, production of "Avenge This!" is still going strong, handling principle photography right now and all. Just waiting to get the call back from my agent about whether or not they're going to make me dye my hair to play Rogers. It's...it's a whole thing, you know? Staying loyal to the source material all while making sure that my brand is in-tact. I just do what they all tell me to do at the end of the day," he offers with a chuckle, hands moving to his hips as he strikes his standard hero pose.
Emma Frost	Emma Frost would nod, "Lovely. That's a musical about his early life, correct?" Her eyes wandering Simon up and down. "And I presume that you've taken the chance to talk to him over things or is it something he's not reached out on?" Or rather than Steve, more likely Ms. Van Dyne was the one to have to worry about. "And I believe that your young fan is, uh.." Her watching Cheynne go to the dark corner.
Cheyenne Brawley	After a minute or so passes, Cheyenne returns to his original position, right hand - obviously holding something - tucked under his left arm, left arm bent with a hand stroking the point of his beard. Nodding along with the tail end of the last piece of speech he was able to hear, he says: "Avenge This! is going to be exquisite, from what I've heard, y'know, editorial previews and whatnot." He leans slightly toward Emma Frost and adds in a conspiratorial tone: "Jay Sherman says it promises to be the writer's best work yet." Then he glances at Wonder Man and moves his left hand from beard to the back of his neck, shifting on pins and needles where he stands.
Simon Williams	"No no, that's Rogers: The Musical, if you can believe it. Avenge This! is a retelling of Loki's attack on New York. The big wigs think it has franchise potential," Simon explains proudly. It's a shame that the Justice League films never quite hit their stride. "And I haven't had the pleasure just yet. I've worked with the Avengers myself a few times, but you can just imagine how jammed my schedule is. Not always a lot of time left for socializing afterwards," he explains in that congenial Hollywood way. "You two have names?" he asks, looking between the two of them. "Seems like just about everybody here has me at a disadvantage," he remarks with a grin.
Emma Frost	Emma Frost would nod over at Simon, "Very well. Is it liscencedt hrough Stark or did some other particularly creative lawyer argue that give it was a public event anyone could do it and widespread cultural awareness means that no sort of liscencing is required for use of Avengers materials?" She would quip over on the whole front of lawyers. "I'm Emma." She would glance over at Cheyenne.
Cheyenne Brawley	"And I'm Cheyenne Brawley," says the Texan, "though ever'body calls me Buster," he ends with a firm nod and a nervous, plastic smile. For the briefest moment he makes to offer Simon the object in his hand - it flashes like bright glitter in the florescent lights overhead - but he changes course, evidently his mind as well, and opts to deposit the object in an unseen pocket of his suit jacket, his features having adopted a rueful expression in the meantime.
Simon Williams	"Now that's a question that I don't have an answer to," Simon responds to Emma. "I'm sure that there's a whole team of people who are paid lots of money to figure that stuff out. I just play pretend when they get it all settled," he explains. "And it's a pleasure to meet you both, Emma and Cheyenne."
Emma Frost	Emma Frost would dip her head, "Of course. I wish your production company luck in not getting sued then should things come to that. If you two will excuse me.." She would simrk, "I have business to attend to."
Cheyenne Brawley	"Night ma'am," Buster says quietly, fidgeting in agony as he senses that Wonder Man is likely to soon take his leave. "Mr. Williams," he ventures in a timid tone, "as it happens, I brought a gift for you - rather a coincidence," he chuckles. He produces the glittering object from his pocket after all and displays it on his palm: it is a folded pair of shades, masculine as to its design and contours, but the frames are made entirely of some white gem, the outlying surfaces of which are subtly faceted in a way that reflects sparkling shades of gold, red, purple and more from surrounding light sources; the lenses are ever so thin and delicate, tinted with a translucent layer of graphite grey - Stevie Wonder meets Liberace. He profers them with a sheepish grin.
Simon Williams	"Here's hoping," he responds to Emma with a grin, lifting a hand to wave goodbye to her. Then he's looking to Cheyenne and lofting his brows at the proffered gift. "Well, check these out," he says, gladly taking the shades in hand and giving them appraising look. "See? It's an even trade now," he says with a warm smile, turning them about in hand one final time before he's sliding them on over his eyes. The lack of the red lenses does a poorer job of hiding his atypical peepers than his usual glasses, but he doesn't seem all too concerned about it. "Thanks, Mister Brawley," he says, reaching out to clap the man's shoulder (not too hard). It's then that his publicist approaches and whispers something into his ear. Simon frowns for a second before nodding and plastering that smile right back where it was. "Looks like break's over, kid. See you around," he says, lifting a half-salute to Cheyenne and returning to his signing duties.