Recruiting for the Revolution: Part 2
Roleplaying Log: Recruiting for the Revolution: Part 2
Participants
IC Details
Synopsis:

Feeling guilty, Jen Hayden texts Supergirl and agrees to coach her in social revolution.

Other Characters Referenced:
IC Date: March 19, 2019
IC Location:
OOC Notes & Details
Posted On: 22 Mar 2019 04:01
Rating & Warnings:
NPC & GM Credits:
Associated Plots

Kara gets a text. <hey> <feel bad 4 not helpin u> <meetm @ Met library?> <-Jen> <(Bitchy green chick)>

The library is one of those places that's used for more than just research. Study areas, conference rooms, beanbag piles, you name it. Jen's in the conference room, wearing the same clothes as Kara saw her in quite recently. She's texting on her broken old phone, slouched in her chair with a shin propped against the table to keep her from falling under it.

* * *

The libray, it sounds like a place to go as Kara. And certainly there's not much time between the text happening and Kara showing up. She doesn't even walk without purpose, she enters, looks around, sees Jen through the walls and starts walking in that direction. At the conference room she just opens the door and walks in, closing it behind her. No knock, no nothing, and then smiles, "You texted?" She is carrying a pizza with her, it says Papa's Pizza Pies on the top, a local place from Queens.

* * *

Jen starts when Kara shows up but covers it with an uplift of the delicate point of her chin. "…Shit, you *do* move around fast," Jen mutters.

She turns her phone off and scrabbles to sit upright, though her feet barely scrape the ground. "I… felt really shitty about how we left it. I want to do something to help." She gestures at a stack of books and pamphlets in front of her. "Maybe I can help you learn how to beat the system."

She gives Kara's burden a hungry examination. "…did you bring enough for everyone?" she asks, hopefully.

* * *

"I hope so. I mean, I can just eat like an entire extra large by myself. One of the great things about, my abilities." She adds, "Plus some potstickers, and ice cream. One of those buckets…" She settles the pizza on the table and sort of shows a measurement of one of those large buckets of ice cream, "And then, meals later, of course. Gotta keep an active mind powered up." Looking to the books, she sits down on one side, "Oh, should I read all of these?"

* * *

"Well, I don't eat much," Jen assures Kara, and reaches for a slice of pie and a napkin. She sits back in her chair and props her shin up again, eating happily.

"Okay, listen. I told you about Iceland, the march for women's rights," the green-skinned meta explains. "So where you've gotta start is find a reason that Registrastion is a problem for… well, middle-class white women," she admits. "You're not gonna convince the old white guys and frankly, you go down to Harlem or the Bronx and people are working so hard they don't have time to contribute." She shrugs. "I'm just calling it like I see it. Helps to have an idea of the most approachable demographic."

* * *

There's a pause, for a moment, "And reading these will get me that answer?" She questions a moment, and then looks over to Jen with a smile, "I can read them all. Or, if you have ideas, I am open to them. White, middle-class women." And then she looks herself over and wonders, "Like me? I am not sure if I am middle-class, but I meet the criteria of what you would refer to as 'white' even though I am clearly not white."

* * *

Jen stares at Kara a few beats, and then gestures at her green self. "You *look* like a white girl," Jen says, dryly. She's eating her food quickly but with relatively tiny bites, savouring it as quickly as possible. "Like, holy shit, milkmaid Nebraska complexion and all. You'll test real well, trust me."

"Like, eighty percent of public speaking is *how* you look to people. Me? No one gives a shit about me, I'm tiny and green and I have resting bitch face," Jen says. "You're built, you've got good looks, and you don't look like you're going to tear someone's face off for cutting in line."

* * *

"Resting… bitch… face." Questions Kara before she smiles at the comments, "You are complimenting me. Thank you. All of my people look a lot like me, though our skins are different colors we never have… paid much attention to that." She shakes her heada bit, "You do not stand out to me as strange, or small, or green. Though, you are green, I would never think of that as a 'kind of person'. Good to know, Humans are very… inaccurate with their understanding of what separates their species."

A few nods and she grabs a slice of pizza and starts chewing, "I do not understand your comment about Nebraska, or milk maids. Are they also… 'built and good looking'?"

* * *

"Racist as shit, is the word you're looking for," Jen assures Kara. "Yes. It's that whole … I guesss they call it the 'Nordic' standard of beauty," she hedges. "Like the most popular models and actors are all blonde-haired, blue-eyed, they're strong more than skinny. Has to do with Germans and Dutch settling the Midwest, I think."

"Anyway." She waves it aside with a flicker of her wrist. "Important thing is that you've got media appeal. People will listen to you. So circling back, you need to figure out how to make registration 'their' problem," she explains. "Make them mad about it."

* * *

"That was not…" Kara kind of pauses before she smiles, "Is Racist as shit, a American idiom? Is it something said by your people, in this country of origin?" Her smiles gets a bit bigger, "Racist, as shit. That makes no sense, but it is funny to say." Laughing lightly she listens more and nods her head a bit. Looking down at herself, and then looking over at Jen, then down to herself, and then back to Jen.

There's a confused look on her face, to some degree, "Are you saying that I am beautiful? Why would you say that with the tone of voice, that seems to… dismiss the idea? I did not know I was beautiful by your standards. I have heard… words, when I save people, but most of the time people do not comment. And psychologically if you save someone they may already be inclinded… I did not know. Is that a problem?"

* * *

Jen is pinching the bridge of her nose again. "We're getting a little off topic here," she sighs, and waves it away. "Short answer- yes. Long answer— wait until we get through the topic at hand."

"Anyway. It gives you an edge because people are already inclined to accept your opinion at face value. Me, I'm an outsider. You appeal to their sense of tribal identity," she explains. "Stupid little human lizard brain that is scared of things that look different. Biologically mutants are closer to humans than you are, but they'll listen to you before they'll listen to me."

"So, let's pretend I'm a thirty-year old soccer mom sitting at home sipping pinot noir and watching Netflix. You have ten seconds to get my attention on Facebook. What do you do?"

"And… go!"

* * *

There's a little bit of a giddiness to Kara now, she's smiling bigger and she brushes her blonde hai away from her face. "I'm, pretty." She laughs a bit, "I mean, I always knew I was kind of cute, or whatever, but where I am from, I am just, well, normal. But here?" She is rocking in her seat a little bit, "Wait, do you really think I could be a model? I mean, like a clothing model? Not that I ever would, but I mean, it was told to me one time and I thought the person was trying to obfuscate something else and distract me. Maybe I should not have thrown him in jail for that car theft…" A lingering pause before she shakes her head, "No, he still deserved that."

And then Jade continues along and she is starting to talk about lizard brains and people, and Kara is clearly staring off, distracted. Dreaming of being a model maybe, or other things. "What? Oh, um, you… are a woman, at home, thirty… and drinking a…" She thinks really fast, "Wine? Is that a wine? And watching … the rectangle video box."

With a deep breath in she says, "I want to protect your children, who play soccer, but we need to know who the real enemy is first."

* * *

Jen's slender brows lift. "That's a good intro," she says, nodding slowly. "Okay. You've got my attention. Thirty seconds, max. So like… next step, I'm alert. Tell me who the enemy is, what they're doing, and how you'll protect me from them," she prompts.

Lips tug into a smile at Kara's audible woolgathering, but she keeps focus because, well…. one of them really ought to.

* * *

Kara starts breathing heavily and her eyes are getting wider, she blinks once and she thinks, "This is hard. Quick times." She mentions and then takes in another quick breathe, "The real enemy is racism. Bigotry. It makes us see normal people who can help us, keep us safe, be there to support us, deserve our recognition, be targeted. It is a trick to make you distracted from those in power teaching you inaccurate understandings of biology." She stops and smiles, waiting for Jen's approval. And then she's kind of pulling on her shirt a little bit, and chewing her lip, she tilts her head to the side, and starts bouncing one foot lightly like a kid with a question.

* * *

"No, no no. Don't mention science. People will start thinking of junior high class and get bored or irritated," Jen says, waving Kara off. "You've got to villify the opposition more. Something like, uh…"

She looks down from the ceiling at Kara, and pauses. A brow lifts. "…the lady's room is out the door on the right," Jen advises Supergirl, cautiously.

* * *

"What?" Kara gets confused at the last part, but she then thinks about villifying and shakes her head, "I cannot villify anyone. They are just unaware or uneducated. They can learn, even your The Congress, has its own reasons. Fear. Fear is not something that we need to run away from or fight people over. Fear is something we need to educate about, and learn from so that we do not need to be afraid any longer. I will only do that, I will only stand up for learning, and education, power is not to be used to villify anyone. That is wrong." She states it in no uncertain terms, and seems to have a serious look on her face, drawing a line in the sand.

* * *

"Yeah, no, that's not really how it works around here," Jen informs Kara. "You don't fix fear with education via social media. You do it by getting people *angry*," she observes. "Try to educate people and they just get bored and wander off. You need to piss 'em off! Get them all fuckin' mad and shit," she explains. "Getting them to respond to you otherwise means doing work. Anger are fear are the two most powerful emotions and the easiest to manipulate."

* * *

Kara leans back some, in her chair, and she seems to wrinkle up her brow at the conversation. "No." She mentions, shaking her head, "I will not make people angry just to get my way. They need to be inspired to help, find hope in this place." She takes in a deep breath, "I will not. No matter what, work within the confines of evil to get good work done." A shake of her head, more shaking, and she just keeps doing it, folding up her arms against her chest. "We have to find another way."

* * *

Jen groans and rolls her head back. "Gaaahhd fine," she mutters. "Okay. Well— let's compromise. 'Outrage', then," she prompts. "Anger's misidrected. Outrage is good! Outrage tells people 'this is an injustice and you should be angry about it'. I mean," she munches on the pizza. "What else are you going to do? 'This is an injustice happening and if it's convenient please won't you come sign my petition?'" she quips.

* * *

"No. Outrage is the same thing, you are just changing the word." States Kara, she sits upright more and sticks out her chest, and squares her shoulders. "This world has had enough hate, and finding enemies where there are none. You are being asked to get angry, upset, to fight those who have done no harm and wish to live a life just like you. In peace, in safety. We must make the space for those who cannot, we must turn our backs on those who would cause us to hate one another. And find, within each of us, the ability to care for someone who cannot care for themself. Stand with me, help us all make this world a better place." She looks up to Jen and says in a softer voice, "Something, like that. Something that would make my father proud, instead of disappointed."

* * *

Jen grits her teeth at Kara. "Look, not everyone gets the *luxury* of getting to turn the other cheek," she tells the blonde. Her tone gets waspish. "But fine. If that's the angle you want to take then you're going to have to lean into it hard. Get the church groups involved. Organize… shit, I don't know. Organize a volunteer outreach program. As much as I hate the idea of a bunch of WASPs invading South Point, if you're dead set on doing this the boring way, then you need to play on option 3: Social shaming," she explains. "Guilt people into participating and make volunteer activism a, uh, good thing to do," she clarifies.

* * *

There's a long pause as Kara is really trying hard to parse all of the information that Jen is telling her. And when she finally gets to be done, "Volunteer activism -is- a good thing." She stresses and then seems takenaback, before she nods her head, "Alright. You need to translate for me. Church groups, I understand, the people who follow one of your Earth religions, get them organized and doing things. And for the wasps, I do not think it is a good idea. There could be people in South Point with allergies. Guilt, ah, yes, that part I kind of understand." She smiles a bit, nodding her head, "My father used to say that everyone knows what is wrong. And eventually when given enough time, they will recognize it and the only way after that to feel alright or good, is to do something about it." She offers and waves a hand in your direction, "Like you, when you texted me."

* * *

"WASPs, it's an acronynm for… White, uh… white… ass… people… something look, I don't remember what it means," Jen confesses, "but they're basically the rich assholes who live in penthouses or outside the city. They don't live here, not on the streets, but they've got a lot of strong opinions about shit like social programs and taxes and shit," she says. "We could blow New York's homelessness out of the park with a few million bucks worth of housing and taxes and we can't get the top one-percenter— uh, top percentile of median income," she amends, "to help out. They make money off everyone else's work and then act all shitty when we say 'hey, wouldn't it be nice if your employees didn't die from a lack of socialized medicine'," she quips.

* * *

"Why does everything end up being an acronym?" Kara wonders, with her arms still folded against her chest, and then she's letting out a little sigh. "You are a very angry person." She observes, but smiles lightly, "I get that. I feel anger often enough. Though, I do not know everything about Earth yet. These are interesting problems I knew a little bit about from reading your history. And I too am baffled that the citizens of Earth do not all have access to things like food, water, shelter, health. Basic necessities. Even those who could no longer do anything, still have value. Teaching, learning, being there, lessons in compassion. I wonder why your people have not discovered that yet?"

* * *

"I'm angry because I'm one of the people who gets shit on every time there's an election cycle," Jen says, bitterly. "Much as those church bitches talk about feeding the homeless, I watched kids cycle in and out of foster care faster than a Taco Bell."

Yeah. Not angry at all. "Anyway. Maybe… I don't know. Maybe you can get a word in with the right people. You've got… I'unno. That sort of presence." Her cheeks mottle a darker green. "Whatever. You'll do great."

* * *

Angry. Kara understands anger, but she keeps it in check else the world might crack open from it. And there's sympathy more than disappointment, "That really is terrible. I am sorry that people do that to you." She looks over at Jen, with just pure compassion on her face, "I hope, if nothing else, that what we do here alleviates some of that anger you feel inside. And more importantly the need for it." Though she completely does not understand the 'Taco Bell' comment, she does smile a bit again, and sits upright, "You are calling me pretty again, aren't you? I think that's about 5 or 6 times. I really did not realize. Am I -that- attractive?" She questions, super curious about it.

* * *

"I said 'presence'," Jen says, trying to glare at Kara. It's Not Very Effective. "Presence. Y'know, it's like this invisible quality that makes people, y'know, like, follow you around an' shit. You're always making those big speeches. People are bad at big speeches and yours… aren't bad," she concedes, grudgingly.

She sticks her tongue in her cheek and looks out the conference room window then rakes her fingernails through her mossy hair. "'m sorry if 'm weirdin' you out," she mumbles. "Figured, y'know, some positive self-esteem never hurts," she says, tossing out an olive branch.

* * *

There's a bit of a giggly laugh and Kara is smiling from ear to ear, "You are saying it again." And then she ohs and nods her head a few times, "Wait! You are saying my speeches are good?! You were saying they would not do anything just… yesterday? Day before?" She isn't saying that to brag, or throw in your face, it more seems a factual statement.

"Great, that means I'm improving. Getting better. If I can do more of them, work on it, maybe we have a chance to help out, to inspire. To gather WASPs." She picks up speed, and grabs another piece of pizza and starts eating it. "If I can win you over, I think we have a chance. Right?"

* * *

Jen rubs her face and pokes at her second slice of pizza. She's clearly not hungry, but forcing herself to eat with a grimly methodicalness. "I said you need more than speeches," Jen rebuts. "You aren't like, *nailing* it yet. You need to learn how t' read emotions and stuff. You don't have to like, turn people into a mob, but you definitely need to understand how to make them angry and then give them, like, purpose to *do something* with those emotions. It can't be *all* anger or *all* patriotic flag waving. Toby Keith made that mistake," she reminds Kara.

"Make 'em mad and point them at walls. Give 'em hope and tell them to go… like, build something."

* * *

"Oh, I like that." Kara mentions as she looks around and then just pulls up her phone, "Phone, take notes." And she waits, and then blinks, "Device, record voice." She waits and then looks down at her phone, "Siri?" A beep happens on her phone and she says, "Record notes." Though it was too late, and then she sighs and takes in a breath, "Siri record notes." And then a program pops up with a recording on it, "Okay, good. Give them hope and them to go build something." She then says, "Note end." And waits, "Notes, end." And then she reaches out and touches the red button to stop recording.

"How do you even function in this world?" Her eyes are wide, looking a lot at her phone before she smiles to Jen again, "I do not know who Toby Keith is… remember I am not from here. You use a lot of … cultural versions of speech and references. It is very difficult to follow."

* * *

"Shit. Right. Sorry," Jen curses. "I'll… okay. Uh, basically, you can't be a one tric— you have to have more than one option. If all you can do is get people angry, you're screwed if you run into people who won't get mad. Does that make sense? You've got to learn to read the crowd. Uh, I mean, look at people and guess what their responses are."

* * *

"Read the crowd, I understand." Offers Kara with a bit of a smile, and she adds to that, "You do not need to avoid using them, if they make sense, just remember. Even super brains, can only process information they know." She pauses and then blinks, "Sorry, I meant super fast brains. Not super brains. I'm not a super genius or anything. I mean, I'm smart, sure, but… I do not want to sound like I am bragging. I understand it feels that way on Earth when someone talks about their strengths." She sighs and now runs her hands up into her hair, and pushes it back, using her hands like a hair band, elbows on the table, and holding her head up that way. "On Krypton, we spoke plainly, up front. When someone was quick, or strong, or smart, or good at physics. Everyone recognized it. And when I was not as smart as someone else, I took it as a challenge, not as an insult. You understand? I just, I feel bad, if I were to make someone else feel bad by speaking bluntly."

* * *

"I understand," Jen confirms. She gets a text on her phone and glances at it, then sighs heavily. "Speaking of. Gotta get back to work," she tells Kara, and starts gathering her things. The books are left on the table. "So here you go, Super Brain," she teases Kara. "Some books on human psychology, government structure, and a book on socialism. Sounds like your home is a … real beautiful place. Maybe I'll get to see it sometime," she says, hand on the door. "See ya around, okay?" She flashes a smile at Kara and then, she's gone.

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