Owner	Pose
Sofia Maroni	The Black and White Club is one of those nostalgic places in New York. The marquis features a piano keyboard along with a tuxedo bowtie and cummerbund, garnished with a few music notes to add panache. The place is small inside, nice and quaint for a quiet dinner or drinks. The stage is large enough to accommodate a piano and a small combo. The evening is still early, but the entertainment has already arrived. Tonight it's going to be bass, piano, saxophone and a blonde singer. Jazz night. The Black and White is on Sofia Maroni's performance rotation. Part of her idea of keeping a low profile means she changes clubs often, rather than playing the same venue. Right now the musicians are tuning up and warming up, while Sofia does a mic test. "Check. One. Two."
Steve Rogers	Admittedly, it's a little early for the club to get in to full swing, but being in the neighborhood is a good enough excuse to see about stepping within. The front door opens to admit one Steve Rogers, looking civilian if somewhat dated in his dark leather motorcycle jacket, complete with fleece-lined lapels. Jeans and combat boots mark him very clearly as someone not currently looking to attend the club. The modified Harley parked out front is proof of being headed home from another day at the Triskelion otherwise. He stops at the front desk and lingers until a staff member approaches him. His smile is polite, understanding, even as he asks, "Evenin'. Wanted to know if I could make a reservation for two, standing? Not sure about what day just yet. Schedules are set to flip on a dime." His explanation is accompanied by a mild tilt of head, again almost a touch apologetic for the lack of a firm date to set in the calendar. He idly glances over towards the stage and notes the small band present as well as the singer at the mic before glancing back to the staff member. And then, he frowns, looking back at the stage again with a squint not necessarily entirely suspicious, but decidedly incredulous. Hold up one second here.
Sofia Maroni	Sofia pauses when Cap enters, searching through her memory. Another time, another place. A camp in Western France. She wore a USO costume and he wore... Captain's bars. She is turning towards the piano player when he looks back and frowns. "Gimme something slow and lyrical in 'A', Tommy..." the blonde states. And Tommy plays the riff, with a nice intro. The blonde slowly turns, then, brown eyes fixing on Captain America. The voice is very familiar, the tune right out of Vera Lynn's songbook. "It... had to be yoooooouu...."
Steve Rogers	"Excuse me, sir?" The staff member regains his attention and Steve shifts in place at the counter, torn back to making this scheduled visit -- or at least, attempting to. "Yes, sorry. It'll be under Rogers, Steve." He glances over again when he hears the twinkling of the piano kick in, something more deliberate than a simple tuning of instruments. His brows lift as the blonde begins to start singing. There it goes, eidetic memory washing over him in a wave to send him back decades and decades -- at another club in another country on another continent, surrounded by cigarette smoke and the scent of beer, the Howling Commandos scattered around him -- a different microphone, but a familiar voice and a familiar song sung under a bright spotlight. Steve blinks hard and reaches up to rub at the back of his neck. "Y'know...yes, next Tuesday, under Steve Rogers, 'll call if something comes up," he says quickly to the staff member. He then begins to walk towards the stage, clearly listening by the bemused hint of a smile on his face. His expression conveys it all: yes, he does know who this singer is, and it's still a bit of a shock. He stops short of the stage and lingers by the table, looking up at Sofia now, still content to act the audience at least while she sings.
Sofia Maroni	Sofia Maroni is watching him all the while, both arms raised high overhead as she shimmies and sways with the slow tempo of the music. It's a familiar gesture to a man who remembers things like Steve does. She's not in the USO costume, however, just a simple, black cocktail dress. Sofia makes it through the first verse, then the chorus. The bass player joins in, then the saxophone. She opens up and starts really belting it out, then. Just like she was singing that same number with a big band back in the 40's, in front of hundreds of GI's. It's enough to raise goosebumps. As for Sofia? Her eyes are closed and she's lost in the song now, belting out the words in the 'shout' section and not hardly needing the mic anymore. And just as abruptly the music begins to wind down. Softer and softer, a bit slower. More melodic. "... it had TO beeee... youuuuu." Brown eyes open and she smiles directly at Steve.
Steve Rogers	The song peters off in a sparkling run of piano notes and Steve lifts his hands to quietly applaud. Sure, he's probably getting some looks from the staff still buzzing around and prepping the place for the proper opening time this evening, but hey, apparently he's not bothering tonight's entertainment by doing so. Once his accolade is done, he sets his weight to one foot, thumbs slung off his jean pockets. His brows lift again and, just a touch drily, he observes not unkindly, "You sound just like you did last I saw you, Miss Maroni, like not a day has passed. Takes me back. Amazing, how small a city like New York seems when you run into somebody you haven't seen in a few years." Give or take a few decades.
Sofia Maroni	Sofia Maroni smiles at the applause, inclining her head as she steps slowly away from the mic. Walking slowly down the couple of steps off of the stage, she half-turns towards the band and offers. "Thanks for the warm-up, fellas." Once she is face to face with Steve, she smiles warmly. "Coming from you, that's quite the compliment. Captain." Her gaze flickers, as if studying his face rather closely. "Indeed it is. Although your story is quite the famous one, of course. You don't look like you've aged a day." A tilt of her head, the brief touch of an index finger to her lips. No, she'd rather remain discreet, for her part.
Steve Rogers	For her gesture towards discretion, another brief squint but Steve nods nonetheless. There are too many ears right now in the first place for that kind of discussion, especially with the busboys working at setting the tables. Cutlery clanks in the background as he smiles in his self-contained manner, still bemused by the whole affair. "'s'true, we both seem to have the luck as far as the whole 'spring chicken' business. I admit, didn't expect to see you here. Saw your name on the flyer at the desk 'nd it rang a bell, but apparently not enough to bring a face to mind until you started singing. You been local all this time?"
Sofia Maroni	Sofia Maroni smiles when he offers the squint and the nod, the woman relaxing just a touch. "I attribute it to good genes, actually." she replies lightly. Daughter of Aphrodite, not that such things are common knowledge. Taking a couple of slow steps, she casually leads them towards one of the quieter corners of the small place. Better than nothing. "I actually did a little travelling, but I couldn't stay far from New York. Afterward." After the War. "I'm originally a Jersey girl, didn't you know? Nice boy from Brooklyn, you probably shouldn't even be talking to me."
Steve Rogers	Far more nonchalant than perhaps he was once known to act around socialites, Steve travels along and to the corner, away from the bustle of readying for the night. He continues looking at Sofia levelly, thumbs still slung off his pockets. Her crack about Jersey makes his lips twitch up at one corner. "Sure...but Jersey's not such a bad place these days. Little more difficult to rag on the area now. Now, you wanna talk smack about Brooklyn? 'm happy to discuss the disaster that is rent. Hard enough for folks to make a living even nowadays." Tsk - a click of tongue and shake of his head. He briefly glances to the front desk. "You around this place for long? Made a reservation for me 'nd my gal for next Tuesday."
Sofia Maroni	Sofia Maroni looks really amused at the banter, and from the way those brown eyes flicker she finds it enjoyable as well. "Jersey's not, but I'm a Gotham-gal." she replies in a lower voice. If Jersey is the armpit of the Eastern Seaboard, then Gotham is the armpit of Jersey. "Next Tuesday? Lemme talk to the owner and see if we can rearrange the schedule a bit." She pauses, then adds. "Because old friends do that for each other." And hey, at THEIR age it's not often you run into someone from 'back in the day'.
Steve Rogers	The twitch of the corner of his lips deepens. "That's a kindness of you, but don't go rearranging your schedule on my account. If you were expected elsewhere, they'll be missing out filling in with another singer in your place. Wouldn't want to impose on your tour schedule." Steve does assume that the young woman is still traveling from place to place after all, especially in light of this wish for secrecy about her still-youthful appearance. He does add in an effort to be fair, "Gotham's grittier than Jersey, but I still have a number of friends out that way as well. Place has its boons."
Sofia Maroni	Sofia Maroni watches him while they talk, and she shakes her head a little as well. "I assure you, Captain, that it's no trouble." She pauses, then asks. "Or do you mind if I call you Steve? After all, we are of an age." There is something of a pause, then, as she considers. "There is something that you're not asking, as well. Your story is all over the newspapers and the headlines, but mine is not."
Steve Rogers	"Steve is fine," he assures the singer. A shift in place as Sofia pauses and he looks away, the better to take the temperature of the place around them still. Most of the tables appear to be set down and the floor staff are working at arranging the small tealight-candles now, the better for warm and close lighting during the dinner hours upcoming. When the Captain looks back at her, he wears a far more wry little smile. "Believe me, didn't ask for my story to be spattered everywhere like adverts on a brick wall. However you managed it, got a bit of envy for the privacy you have." Clearly, he's too much of a gentleman to go overtly nosing into her business, rather choosing to allow Sofia her own decision in revelations.
Sofia Maroni	Sofia Maroni casually shifts her weight, closing the distance between them so that they can speak in lowered voices. She doesn't give the room a once-over, but from her expression she doesn't need to either. "It has not been without difficulty, as I'm sure you can appreciate." she replies more softly. "For now, let's just say that my mother wasn't originally from Jersey. Or New York. Or even the US." There is another pause, then Sofia smiles. "You work with people from Asgard. I'll just say that mom is from Olympus, and leave it at that for now. I wanted you to know. You deserve to know."
Steve Rogers	Steve's brows slip to meet, though no more than to evince a shall divot, reflecting quiet curiosity as her voice falls more private yet in volume. Those golden brows then lift. He might once have gaped like a boggle-eyed frog to hear this revelation, but the singer's observation regarding Asgard is entirely accurate. "Ah-hah. That does explain a thing or two," he replies, equally quiet. "Appreciate your trust in matters, Miss Sofia. Your secret's safe with me." The genuine earnesty in his entire mien impresses this information as vouch-safed. "Can't say 've worked with many of your family members, but if you know Diana Prince, she's a long-time friend."
Sofia Maroni	Sofia Maroni smiles again, and it is devastatingly charming. "And I appreciate your discretion, Steve." she replies. "Diana Prince, the Amazon? I'm afraid that I don't. My maternal family is famous for being unpredictable. Believe it or not, I actually had a fairly normal upbringing. When you saw me performing in France, you and I were of a similar age." Nevermind that neither one looks to have aged significantly since then. "I have been keeping my head down for many reasons, but times do change. And people change." Sofia pauses for a moment, considering her words. "I sometimes wonder whether it's time for me to step out of the shadows where things are quiet and anonymous."
Steve Rogers	On his next exhale, a bit of a pensive hum. Steve briefly lifts his hand off its sling at his pants pocket in an accompanying gesture to his thought. "World's at a place now where I don't think you'd have anybody coming after you with pitchforks 'nd torches if you stepped into the light." A dry bit of humor on his part, accompanied by an unchanged faint smile. "Folks're getting used to other persons from beyond Earth, like Asgard -- or from other dimensions entirely. Place is getting complicated, but not...not in a bad way," he decides. "Just more complicated than it used to be. Science is advanced now, magic's a real thing 'nd not just picking a card out of a fanned deck. Diana's a public figure 'nd nothing bad seems to have come from it. Chances are very few folks in the world'll recognize you from back when." His true-blues hold melancholy, there and gone again at the brutal truth of those aged and lost to passing time. "You might have more anonymity than you think right off the bat."
Sofia Maroni	Sofia Maroni's smile turns wry at that. "Magic has -been- a real thing for quite some time, Steve. Most people just weren't ready for it." she replies softly. "I wouldn't be opposed to some continued level of anonymity, of course. I've enjoyed that for a very long time, and I think that the risks are low." Her gaze lowers, then, and she glances down at her shoes for a moment. "I suppose what I'm trying to say is that, if you know people who are looking for help that's outside of the normal skill-set, feel free to give them my name. If they're interested in finding me, then I'm no longer interested in hiding."
Steve Rogers	Those expressive brows once more lift. "I follow. World can always use an extra hand in the case of keeping the people safe and at peace. Can always pass on word, sure, but it'll better prove your case if you have a business card. Any of 'em floating around?" Steve does glance briefly towards the front desk, as if they might be there, and then around for a back office, this more likely to host a collection or potentially a readying room. His eyes return to her face, openly and politely interested. "If it isn't too familiar of me, what're you offering in terms of help? Most of the people I work with know about the durality of bloodlines related to the pantheons." The Captain means strength, speed, basic abilities of this nature.
Sofia Maroni	Sofia Maroni laughs softly as she considers his question. "I'd like to say that my heritage speaks for itself, of course. That, and if I didn't feel that I had something to offer, then I wouldn't have brought it up." Her weight shifts and her smile settles a little, then. "Yes, there's certainly physical durability. It comes with mom having an Olympus address. I'm also fast, I can fly, and I'm very good at finding people. Even people who are off the grid. I would encourage your people to come and find me to discuss more. I'm pretty easy to find, when I want to be."
Steve Rogers	Steve mentally tallies away this information. It further expands his memory of the singer and will surely be reported back to SHIELD for access by the recruiting committee. "I'll pass that along to the relevant parties involved," he confirms, his smile appearing once more in a mild manner. "Appreciate the willingness to possibly be involved in more'n your usual gig. Suppose it can be a case of 'my people will contact your people'." Another glance around the place and then back to Sofia. "But I should get going for now. 'm expected back at home base soon enough 'nd traffic isn't gonna let up for another hour or so. A pleasant surprise, seeing you again, Miss Maroni." Steve offers out a hand to shake if Sofia is so inclined.
Sofia Maroni	Sofia Maroni returns the smile, accepting the offered hand as well. Her fingers are smooth, nails manicured, and her grip is firm. Professionally so. "Always a pleasure seeing you as well, Captain." she replies. "Let me know if you have any requests when you're here with your girl. I'll see what I can do." And with that, she'll turn back towards the others and line out the first few numbers for their set.