Owner	Pose
Arthur Curry	Tumult breeds chaos and the natural world responds to the supernatural with its own roiling reflexive attempt to counter, to contain. It's a feeling that is foreign to most souls, save perhaps at the most as an itch before grim weather that bodes ill. Though for some that have a keen insight into the way that natural world feels... for the way nature looks on with such stern determination and acts...     It's a clarion call to action or flight.     Arthur Curry is a man so in tune. Though he would deny it. Each moment of each day he is aware of the ocean and the unity that is held between so many creatures of the depths. It is twinned with the weather that comes from the grand seas, stirred into action by the movement of celestial bodies and the onslaught of those beyond.     It was such a call that roused him from the night into the morn, brought him awake upon the docks he had passed the night. The sleeve of his grey hoodie had been frozen to the bags of supplies where it had rested, and those blue jeans cracked with breaking ice as he pushed himself to his full considerable height. Golden eyes peered across the river, toward the mouth of the bay. There was an ill portent on the wind and it drove him to take three quick strides and leap into the water.     Moments later he emerged there on Staten Island's Gateway park, landing upon the snow covered greenery with a /fwumpf/. Distantly the clouds gathered, grim and severe. The waves crashed, already bursts of white foam smashed chunks of ice against the pier. If things grew worse there could be damage to the city, to the docks, to shipping which would make Manhattan already more isolated than it was.     One hand lifted as the scraggy looking man focused. Eyes gleaming like gold he frowned and concentrated, trying to draw on the energy of the storm, to console it, to ease it into tempering its wrath. From afar he looked like little more than a frost bit homeless man with snow in his wild hair and beard. But yet he stood sentinel trying to exert his will upon the world.
Ororo Munroe	Ororo Munroe does, in fact, sometimes take her duties as weather goddess a little more seriously than people think. Or at least, more seriously than she lets them think she takes these duties, with her occasional wry remarks about using her powers mostly to ensure rain doesn't interrupt her plans.     Any claims that she also lets students bribe her to ensure sunny weekends are of course entirely unfounded. But sometimes she does indeed alter weather patterns. Say, during a dangerously intense late season storm.     And so, as Arthur Curry arrives on the shore, Ororo is flying through the air, likely all too easy to overlook as people rush about to prepare for the oncoming storm. She's a touch distracted, fretting about the ongoing troubles in Manhattan, though mostly in a detached 'Well, at least no one's going to blame this on mutants' way.     Still, as hard as it might be to pick Ororo up for someone on the ground, her own eyesight spots Arthur standing on the shore and she lets out a low little sigh, falling from the sky, her own blue jeans, leather jacket, and tanktop attire not exactly winter grade, but she doesn't seem to mind, voice calling out, "Hey! You might want to like... get out of the storm! It's going to be a rough one, trust me."     Hopefully not _too_ rough if she's got anything to say about it, but still, best not to worry about this... hobo? Hobos usually aren't so well-built, but hey, she's not going to judge.
Arthur Curry	Turning to look on her with glowing eyes, the man has such a /stern/ severe look to him. It's like an image of Poseidon before the kraken, with how the sea roils behind him, splashing at just that moment as the sea seems to protest his shift in attention. And around him she may well sense the change in weather patterns, how outward from this point that the clouds are changing, swirling, condensing as its fury becomes all the more powerful here, being spent on the rocks that offer barrier for the park, instead of further inland toward Manhattan.     He is tall, wild of mien, and... perhaps not so much a hobo at this point. More perhaps looking like a man who makes his money setting up instruments for a rock band. Beneath that hoodie is a black t-shirt, a large emerald necklace hangs free, and on his hands and wrists there are a number of rings as well as leather bracers.     A moment as the coastal waters surge behind him, then the glow fades as he points at her. "Hey." His voice is deep, a rumble, then he says. "I know you. An X-person, right? Gimme a hand here."     As he says that he turns back and pushes his hands through his wild mane of hair then holds out his hand again, lightning flashing down to crackle into the water before them. "Trying to get it to expend its energy here." On top of them.
Ororo Munroe	White eyebrows perk above bright blue eyes... that almost match that glow, arms crossing, hips cocking. Ororo's got enough steel in her backbone that glowing eyes and stern expression just meet her own cool presentation. With maybe just a little bit of 'Huh, okay, _not_ a local fisherman ignoring the weather forecast'.     She snorts and those full lips split in a little grin, "Yeah. Storm. Weather goddess, heroine, all that jazz. Also, totally going to suggest we change our name to 'The X-People', and someone's got to dress like a cop, and construction worker, and..."     She shakes her head, arms lifting, that glow in her own eyes intensifying, that storm swirling, clouds above them beginning to darken even more ominously, as the weather above the city proper calms and lessens.     "Well, that's probably a good idea... I mean, I'd just calm the weather in general, but that'd knock me out for the day, and given how things're going, I don't think one big storm's going to be the only trouble to deal with today. I'm not that lucky."     Not that Ororo's bitter about it of course, being an X-Person has its downsides to go along with the kickass mansion and the fancy jet.
Arthur Curry	As she speaks more and more, and when she sprouts that grin Arthur sort of gives her a side-eye. At first it's a hint of puzzlement, like a man asking himself internally, 'is this gal for real?' but then she cracks wry about the cop and construction worker. Which gets him to smirk. For other people it'd be a smile, for him. Smirk.     "Just gotta take it easy, let it know that this is what it wants to do, and if it wants to be mad at someone..." He spares a tilt of his head her way, the smirk twisting up a little more. "Then might as well be us."     Of course that's the moment when the storm breaks, icy rain fall coming down heavily, large chunks of ice shattering upon the boulders and another crackle of lightning is heard. Yet it does seem like the storm is becoming more focused, those dark clouds growing around them, hanging high over the mouth of the bay as the waves rage with heavy white caps.     Slowly, however, slowly... the energy is expended. It's almost like instead of confronting the forces of nature and forcing it to cease, they're negotiating it, diverting it, and slowly drawing its rage toward rest.     "So you're..." Arthur takes a deep breath as the waves begin to recede and then he leans forward against the metal railing that protects them from tumbling over onto the rocks and the ocean. Another deep breath, then he crinkles his nose and looks sidelong at her. "Thunder? Or Lightning Lass?"     He's not serious is he?     Ok that half-smile, he might not be serious.
Ororo Munroe	Ororo snorts out softly and grins wider, "Pfff, I just don't want to spend the energy _telling_ it what it wants to do... besides, seems like most of the city took the weather forecast seriously, so just wiping the storm out would be overkill. Just a li'l helpful nudge or two ought to do it. It's all about the right amount of power applied at the right point!"     Yep, that's Ororo alright, totally all about the right response at the right level... unless, of course, someone messes with her friends. But no one's done that lately, so no one's got to worry about it!     Eyebrows perk once more and there's an involuntary little noise of laughter as the stormy skies darken further, "I... kind of wish I'd thought of Lightning Lass! But, I mean, I do more than lightning, so I went with Storm."     Eyes roll and she sighs out loudly, "So many things to change if I decide to swap names now! Thanks a lot, stranger!"
Arthur Curry	With the emergency diverted and the storm deflected, Arthur finally has a chance to take a moment and survey himself, as well as his surroundings... which is done with him lifting his arms and grimacing at the state of his clothes. He thumps a heavy hand onto his chest and those eyes glow marginally again as subtle waves of heat emanate from his form, water seeming to coalesce and form out of the air around him, floating toward his other hand that's held out and to the side.     A few moments pass until the water is wicked away and eventually he starts to look a little more human and less like a homeless hobo snowman. Until finally there's a mess of water floating in a sphere that he tosses back into the ocean, now remaining dry despite the fall of rain. Still... looking a bit scruffy all told.     "I'm Arthur." He says to her finally, his eyes shifting between hers as he watches curiously. "Or..." His nose crinkles slightly, "Aquaman." As the press has named him. Though it's clear from the expression on his features, he prefers the former to the latter.     "You should keep Lightning Lass, never too late for rebranding." As he says that he points at her then pushes away from that railing and starting to walk a bit toward her, pausing briefly. "Are you hungry?"     "I'm hongry." He says and takes a few steps past her.
Ororo Munroe	Ororo just shakes her head and mutters under her breath... sure, temperature changes don't bother her, a gift of her Atlantean and mutant heritage, but she's _still_ stuck looking like a drowned rat if she doesn't summon up unseasonably warm wind gusts to dry out. Apparently even weather goddesses can't have it all.     Eyebrows perk as she gestures the way of the departed water sphere, "Well, you picked a pretty apt codename, Arthur. Well done!"     She sighs and shakes her head, "See, that sounds great, until I hit someone with a river or a blast of ice, and then the internet's all in an uproar about the name not fitting. I think I'll stick to Storm, it's vague enough, and also I'm sure there's some merchandise out there with it on it or something. Like, there's _got_ to be knockoff X-Men stuff floating around. I know what I'm Googling for tonight!"     She grins wide and falls into step with a cheery hum, "Oh, I wouldn't turn down breakfast. Plus, I won't have to fight past everyone else at the mansion to get it if I eat out. I'm sold, lead on!"
Arthur Curry	A small chortle comes from him as she does seem pretty cheerful. His hands slide into the pockets of his hoodie and he hunkers down a little against the chill in the air. Not feeling it fully, of course, but still enough to creep into his body language. "I didn't really pick it, the newspapers did."     A beat then he adds, "You could be... Weather Wielder, maybe? Something like that. Alliteration is /very/ important." His smile twists up a little as he walks along. She's not short herself, but he does ease his stride a little to let them walk together in sync.     It doesn't take too long to stroll across the field and onto the sidewalk. A few days past of plowing has given them at least somewhere less treacherous to walk on, even as he looks further on ahead for some place to grab some food. "So, Storm. What's your story?"
Ororo Munroe	Ororo laughs out and shakes her head, "No way, 'Weather Wielder' sounds like some sort of costumed villain. ...Okay, I _will_ keep it in mind if I ever decide to turn to a life of crime." She shakes her head and sighs out, keeping her own pace a little quickened just so he doesn't have to slow too much. "Oh, nothing all that interesting. Reformed pickpocket and car thief, teacher, mutant freedom fighter I suppose. Really not nearly as interesting as it all sounds in summary. The details are actually pretty boring."     She glances sidelong and quirks an eyebrow, "And what about you? Roadie by day, water manipulating hero by..." She frowns thoughtfully and glances up at the sky, "Also during the day?"
Arthur Curry	Another chuff of amusement comes from him about the fate of the Weather Wielder and her likely fall toward crime, but he says naught further on it, just shaking his head with that same smile. But when she confides some aspects of her story he tilts his head to look at her askance, watching and listening until she declares all of it boring.     "Doesn't sound boring. Pickpocket and thief. Freedom Fighter?" He continues on, heavy work boots scuffing in the grime and the old ice along the walk. "You have elements for a decent movie of the week there."     But then focus shifts in his direction and he crinkles his nose a touch. "Ehn, my parents were star-crossed lovers. She from the depths of the ocean, a princess of Atlantis. He... well, he was a lighthouse keeper up North."     He lifts his chin a little, distantly espying a sideshop that proudly proclaims, 'Bagel Boss' with a cartoony image of a bagel with eyes and a smile. Looks like it's open with the number of people wandering in and out. Then he looks back to her, "Caused a kerfluffle with the Atlanteans until I managed to calm then down. And then the whole..." He uncurls a hand, waving it upwards as he murmurs, "Alien thing, I did what I could and met the rest of the Justice League. Now." He makes a face and looks to Bagel Boss once again.     "I try to do what I can."
Ororo Munroe	Ororo's shoulders rise and fall, "Well, freedom fighter might be stretching it a little... especially nowadays when mutants aren't as feared. But I definitely had to rescue a friend from some weird underground prison complex awhile back, so I can count that as fighting for his freedom, right?"     She laughs and nods her head, "Yeah, figure that's all any of us can do. Try to do what we can, and all."     Her eyes linger on the sign for Bagel Boss, her teeth worrying her lower lip for a long moment, "What is it with food company mascots being like... the food they want us to eat? And being happy about it? That's messed up, right? Like, I'm not crazy? I'm not the only one who finds it weird the bagel company's mascot is a happy bagel about to give us bagels to eat?"
Arthur Curry	"Well," Arthur says as they wander on up and he pauses at the door to grab it and open it, causing the electronic bell to jangle and let the people inside know that someone's arrived. He holds the door for her and waits for her to head in before he follows.     "I sorta like that one chicken place, where their mascot is a cow that's all, 'yeeees, eat more chickens.'" His smile shifts a little amused, clearly actually liking that little bit of marketing talent.     Once they're inside he'll stroll on up and get in line, his hands sliding out of the pockets of his hoodie. Some of the people in the place look up from their bagels and coffee. A glance is given to each of them, though likely for a myriad of reasons. For Arthur, maybe because well... he's tall. And also looks something like a biker sans leather jacket. Ororo because she's beautiful and a striking figure. Or perhaps for both of them... because people might've seen them on the television or youtubes.     "You been to one of these before?" He asks as he looks up at the chalkboard menu that has a 'deal of the day' on it for a particular type of bagel. Which today it seems to be a grilled cheese bagel sandwich with pepperoni. Hnh.