Boots In Orbit
Roleplaying Log: Boots In Orbit
Participants
IC Details
Synopsis:

Drake meets an absurdly attractive alien on Coney Island after a foiled robbery attempt, but is bound only for disappointment!

Other Characters Referenced:
IC Date: May 03, 2019
IC Location: Coney Island
OOC Notes & Details
Posted On: 04 May 2019 08:02
Rating & Warnings:
NPC & GM Credits:
Associated Plots

* * *

Drake Riley doesn't like having to hide who he is, or what he is. He'd prefer the ability to just wear his identity, his mutation, on his sleeve. Not every mutant even has that opportunity. In certain ways, he's definitely one of the lucky ones. And it really comes in handy when he just wants a little time to relax and give a New York beach a fair shake. Beaches were once his jam. But he's not going into this expecting anything approaching the proper golden warmth of Cali' shores.

Still, he isn't disappointed.

The sun is high in the cloudy sky, a cool breeze blowing, and the sand gently heated. With the weather only just taking a turn for the warmer climes, Coney Island's beach isn't so positively inundated with tourists and loungers - but it's not exactly unpopulated, either. There are enough spans and stretches of sand without umbrellas, chairs, or sporting equipment to make claiming a little plot of land not too difficult. So given Drake's intent to just soak it in and give it a shot, it works perfectly for him.

The teen has secured a plot of sand a short distance from the rolling shore, a dull gray towel spread wide over the grit. The teen is certainly dressed the part, as well - wearing a pair of emerald green trunks streaked in black tribal markings, and naught else to hide the sleek, trim tone someone his age might not normally possess. Flying solo, as it were, he reclines back with palms propping up behind him and head canted to stare out at the water.

A little ways further down the beach, the sounds of an altercation are starting to rise. It seems to've begun as an dispute over personal property, but it seems to be crystalizing in an increasingly obvious case of an opportunistic metal-detecting beach-comber deciding a lady's purse happens to be his fair find. It's a con, really. The metal detector is meant to be a distraction while the actual valuables are snapped up and squirreled away into a tote. But this woman caught him.

"MY PURSE! GIVE IT BACK!"

That has Drake's attention. He gathers himself up to his full height and starts trotting in that direction. But he's not going to get there in time to intervene on the man pulling his trump card - a gun. Panic immediately follows.

* * *

It's a beach, it's the northern hemisphere, it's just low orbit of space. Supergirl is hovering well above the 35,000 foot elevation that most commercial airliners fly at, and she's not too far from where Satellites orbit. So, you might say she was just 'passing by' but it's really the Earth turning beneat her as she hovers defying gravity and any need to breath.

A purse alteraction, isn't something that would normally draw Supergirl's attention but right now she's actually paying a lot of attention to New York. She's been in the news presenting herself as a target, defying the pro-registration folks and actively being unlawful by doing so. And yet, there's an explosion of sand when she crashes into the ground, bullet going off from the gun, but as it heads in the direction of the woman who wanted her valuables back, there's a flash of red super hot lasers shooting from Supergirl's eyes and disintegrating the bullet as it moves. Being nothing but ash that gets carried on the wind at the beach.

Her hit into the ground was so forceful that all the people nearby stumble backwards and some even fall on the ground, as she stands up, eyes white with super heat, the areas around her eyes glowing red from the excess heat as she turns her head on the man with the gun, a threatening look for sure, but with the implied <Give back the stuff> kind of messaging.

* * *

Drake Riley wasn't close enough to see through the crowd, neither when the blinding streak collided with the earth to send a shockwave of sand into the air, the crowd shifting back several steps for it, nor the specifics of the very familiar and dreaded gunshot as it rings out. But it gets him to move faster. As the teen kicks up plumes of sand in his wake, he'd be pondering Baywatch-run jokes - were he not on high alert and already plotting counter-measures.

Meanwhile, the crook is caught in stunned silence. The gun is still angled out, but shaking, and now directed upon the beautiful blonde interloper. The purse in his other hand is all but forgotten in light of this turn of events. Without another thought, he begins squeezing the trigger rapidly, discharging shot after shot at the alien girl, and liable to empty his magazine if permitted. And after that? He'll still be clicking that trigger, hoping to find another bullet creeping around somewhere in the chamber.

The increase in shots fired urges Drake to move faster, carefully pushing some fleeing civilians out of the way while weaving nimbly between others. Almost there!

* * *

Gunfire starts hitting Supergirl, and she just sighs in near super speed. Her arms move outward from her body at super human speeds, becoming blurs, but not to punch or hit anything… to catch the bullets as they ricochet off of her body. Then she's dropping them on the ground at normal speed even while the gun is still being clicked.

Clearly this is not a superhuman threat, but Supergirl allows her eyes to cool down, and she looks in the direction of the man with the gun. She… moves a few steps forward, and then pauses, "Hold on, my cousin does this a particular way…" Putting her fists on her hips and standing in a cliche superhero pose, she kicks up her voice into a loud booming voice, "Drop the gun, and the valuables. Now!"

Her voice is a bit too super and sends a few shockwaves forward kocking the gun toting purse snatcher backwards, rolling a bit toward the water. A few other nearby people clap their hands to their ears, as Supergirl sighs, grimacing, "Sorry. A little loud."

* * *

This is so not the way that dude saw his day going. No, it's a simple grift! Supposed to be easy! Tourists are dumb, and everyone scares easy! Now he's got this person who is just cheating at reality or breaking the Matrix, and his whole day is just… it's just ruined, okay? Even her voice is impossible to comprehend in its force and potency, sending the man a-tumble.

Drake doesn't fare too much better. When the voice belts out, the first thing he catches is the timbre behind it. The second, that it's still very feminine. And though it jars his approach and sends him into an awkward stagger, the worst he suffers is colliding into a fellow nearly a foot and a half taller than him. But no time to dwell on that now. Drake needs to intervene.

Maybe.

At last, the teen breaks through the ever-thinning barrier of bodies to get a solid look at what's going on. An older woman has fallen onto her keister in the sand, startled, and presumably missing a purse. Opposite her, there's a disheveled and bewildered man attempting to pick himself up off the sand, purse dangling from one hand, gun from the other. And lastly, there's a blue-eyed blonde bombshell standing in striking superheroic pose. Confident. Fearless, even. Strikingly so. Yet she doesn't appear a day older than himself. Vivid green eyes blink once at her.

The crook has by now decided he's had enough. Time to cut and run. Now that he's found his footing, he turns to hightail it away, conveniently bringing him directly into the path of Drake. The young mutant's attention is seized, and in a flash of impulse, lashes forward with a quick-step and wide right-armed swing, colliding with the man beneath the chin in a sudden, surprise clothesline.

"HURRK!"

The man is immediately dropped flat to the sand, purse and gun akimbo.

* * *

Moving forward at super speed, Supergirl has the gun in hand, and she crushes it before dropping it on the ground in an unuseablee state. Then she's looking over at Drake, "You did not need to help citizen. It can be dangerous to get in the way of these criminals." Reaching down she grabs the purse and tosses it back to the old lady, so the purse lands nearby her and she takes the metal detector that was nearby and wraps it around the guy, arms and all so that he's basically hogtied. "There." With ease she picks him up by the metal detector and tosses him to the side as well, with a heavy ooomph.

"Someone call the police, and they can come and pick him up." Supergirl comments as she does some kind of sweeping head movement in the direction of the crowd. "Feel free to take the credit." She says and starts walking away from the people… from how hard she came in, it's probably no better with her just jetting off in the middle of a crowd. Likely to knock them all down.

* * *

What portions of the crowd are still lingering are entirely agape at the way the gun is destroyed and detector bent as though it were nothing. That includes Drake. Heck, the man sailing aside as he's casually tossed hardly even seems to register as his gaze is glued to her. All that strength, but she doesn't look even remotely gross with bulgy muscles.

Some people are contacting the authorities. Others are marveling at the remnants of the gun. Others still are sassing the criminal. The criminal is deeply rethinking his line of work. What few others remain part to give the blonde girl a wide, wide path to walk through.

Not Drake.

It takes a few seconds for his mind to catch up with what just happened, and without really weighing his options, he's trotting after her. "Hey, wait up," he calls gently to her. Should she allow, he'll move in close to her side, head tilting to study her at this much closer perspective. It's subconscious, but a part of him is certain there must be /some/ flaw on her - something about her face, maybe? A seam? Something that might be peeled away to reveal a hideous cyborg within? But all he's liable to find is a smooth complexion and pretty features. "I-, ah-," right, he needed to say something to justify this. What he settles on carries a nervous hint, still contending with uncertainty-meets-marvel. "Sorry. Yeah. It was dangerous. Wanted to help. Not that it looked like you needed it, geeze."

* * *

Walking along the sand in red minimally heeled boots would be tough if you didn't have perfect balance, perfect steps, perfect everything. Supergirl moves along and is kind of used to people following along after her, askign questions, staring, gawking in fact. She turns her head a little bit, looking at Drake a moment, and then nods her head, "Yes, it was dangerous. You could have gotten hurt. You should leave crime fighting to law enforcement." A pause as she almost stutters, "And, me. Superheroes." She lets out a little huff, and blows blonde hair out of her face after the wind has kind of pushed some of it in her face.

Once a few dozen meters from the site of the confrontation she stops, and turns to Drake, "Is it some kind of autograph that you want? I usually burn my signature into something, I can etch into almost anything." She offers the presumed fanboy. Folding her arms up under her chest, she quirks her mouth to the side. Regardless though, there's no seam, no flaw, nigh-perfect symmetry in her features. "Do you have a name you want me to make it out to?"

* * *

Drake Riley is about to respond when the girl shows perhaps the first fumble of her otherwise seemingly perfect confidence - clarifying she's a superhero. Yet all that does is bring a smile to his face. Of course she's a superhero. He knew that. Clarification, utterly unnecessary. He couldn't exactly contradict her, despite wanting to, however. No, he's not normal. Yes, he has powers. Indeed, he is trained for this - and more. But he understands in her eyes, he's just a shirtless dude on the beach.

That's gonna be a hurdle.

As Drake starts to speak again, the girl stops and turns to him. His train of thought is completely derailed as he faces her directly, getting to take in the full scope of her features. This girl is /unfairly/ gorgeous. He's trying to not be caught checking her out, his gaze dipping subtly to take in her features as discreetly as possible. Naturally, his vibrant emeralds come to rest on her big blues.

/Unfairly/.

"Drake," he replies, voice losing a considerable amount of volume in his automatic response. And then it's his turn to hitch on a bit more in a start, "Oh, uh, I don't need an autograph or anything. Just… your name?"

His smile softens a touch and his hand raises to her in offering.

* * *

If Supergirl notices that she's being checked out its something she's so used to she hasn't paid any mind to it. She wears a blue miniskirt and a midriff baring top while flying around and performing acts of superhuman heroism after all. It's clear she gets stared at quite often. Add onto that, her Kryptonian genetics, the result of generation upon generation, of genetic optimization has made her and her cousin top tier specimens in terms of looks when compared to most of the native population of Earth.

"Oh. Usually people who follow me want my autograph. One person asked for it on her arm." Then she notices Drak reaching out his hand, "I know this one. A greeting of respect." Putting out her arm, stiffly, hand grabs Drake's and she just shakes gently if a bit stiff, "Nice to meet you Drake of … the beach?" In return she offers, "I am Kara, you might know me better as Supergirl. I am visiting from Metropolis until this Registraction act can be shut down." Still shaking hands.

* * *

Drake Riley takes her hand and immediately notices the stiffness of the shake. The quirky lead-in registered as well. In fact, everything at this point seems to be curiously off-beat. Perhaps it's her looks helping flavor things in her favor, but it hits him as adorably quirky. "Drake of, uh.. Los Angeles," he replies. "Drake Riley."

Wait, did she say Supergirl? That name's been floated in his circle before. And what she mentions concerning the Registration Act seems to reinforce it. But he can get to that in a second.

"Kara," he repeats with a cant of his head. His own hanging bangs drift a little further over his right eye as he studies her. "Pretty name. It suits you." He flirted; testing the waters. But he gives her an easy out to focus on as well. "Why are you wanting to shut down the Registration Act?," he asks.

The hands may still very well be shaking. But Drake's left hand moves in to gently set over hers, hoping to ease the motion to a simple halt without embarrassing her. The added benefit of flirtily touching her hand is a bonus.

* * *

"Thank you, for the compliment of the name." Supergirl offers as she slowly lets her hand be slowed and then she pulls it back to her side. That's the normal 'human' thing to do after all, and its not like anyone can stop her from getting her hand back. With a smile she adds, "Your heart rate is quickening, and your body temperature has risen some."

Tilting her head a bit to the side, she gets more serious with the question about Registration. "It is clearly wrong. Targetting a group of people, as if they are criminals, before they've done anything? That is against your constitution. And it is against the rights that each Sentient being deserves." She folds her arms against her chest again and stands with as broad of shoulders as her slender frame can manage, "I refuse to Register, and I have sworn that I will protect those who stand against it, even though it is the law of the state of New York."

Looking over her shoulder, Supergirl states, "Let's keep walking, police are going to show up in a few minutes." And then she's walking further along the beach… though she pauses for a moment to take off her boots. She just hovers and removes them, then literally tosses them into the sky with quick motions, the red material streaking into the sky and likely hitting orbit for her to get later… but as far as anyone on Earth is concerned those boots are gone, and she grins. Wiggling her toes into the sand, looking down and laughing lightly.

* * *

She certainly isn't going to see resistance from him in her venture to retrieve her hand. Drake's not a creep. Attracted to her, absolutely. But a creep? No, ma'am.

Not only has his heart rate hastened and his temperature mildly increased, but his cheeks seem to've rouged as well! Drake tries to not draw attention to that, however, and instead focus on the topic at hand. "I'm with you on that. And laws are just things decided by people. And not all people have, uh.. the best intentions in mind for people they don't understand, or don't think they can control."

He certainly concurs with her desire to continue walking, turning to move along with beach with her. Thankfully, the less-populated nature of the shore today means there's little chance of blundering into someone. Fortunate, because Drake's eyes remain attentively, appreciatively, on Kara. He watches her remove her boots with interest, then startles with a blink when they're tossed up into the atmosphere - and likely beyond. "So, hey, that's normal, right?," he jokes, positively baffled by what he just witnessed. Yet the sound of her laughter brings his gaze right back down to her feet cutely squishing into the sand.

She's kind of too much, isn't she?

Drake's right hand sets behind his neck as he drags his gaze away from her, a touch sheepish. "So you can, uh.. tell that stuff, huh? The heart rate? Temperature? I can't tell if that makes this easier or harder…"

* * *

"Yes, and laws are things that can be broken by sheer force." Supergirl responds, smiling big at the fact that her toes are squished into the sandy shore. She doesn't worry about her boots, just having trailed after them a moment with only her gaze… since, well, unbeknownst to Drake she can see them hit orbit at just the right speed to stay in orbit for a bit. A way to fetch them later, and not have to carry them while she has her feet in sand.

"Hmmmm? What's normal? What makes what easier or harder?" Questions Supergirl, as she scrunches up her face a bit in confusion. Though she offers, "I appreciate the shore. The way every grain of sand rolls against every other, breaking off and grinding into one another, making more pieces of sand. The way the water smells, and the constant sounds of tide in and out. Imperfect beauty."

* * *

"I- well- it's-," attempts Drake, thoroughly fumbling in his explanation. Fortunately, it seems that she's diverting into something else, giving him a bit of an out. Still with a hand at his neck, he slows his walk to face her a bit more. "I completely agree. I grew up with beaches. They were my go-to. Letting the sound soak into me, feeling the pull and push of the tide, the waves, the warm sand, the air on skin…"

He suddenly blinks at her.

"…Well, imperfect beauty's one thing. But, ah-," he clears his throat softly. "You don't seem to be playing by that rule." He glances to his own bare toes for a moment, then aside to her with a nervous, boyish half-smile. "That's why my heart's going a little faster, or my temperature's up, or I can't stop looking at you. All part of.. y'know, being attracted to someone?" It feels so weird wording it so completely bluntly. But the poor girl is clearly not accustomed to things. That might make it safer being a bit more blunt. Heck, she may even appreciate it.

Oooorrr melt his face with eyebeams. It's a gambit.

* * *

There's a few nods of her head as eh listens to the conversation about the waves. "In my home I used to dream about the waves, but I was mostly inside learning about engineering, physics. And there was so much city there was not places like this commonly available." Supergirl takes a moment and takes in a deep breath before letting it out slowly, smiling at the water and how the sun bounces off of it in reflection.

"Hmm?" The blonde asks with the question about imperfect beauty and the implied reverse being true for her. She ohs and mentions, "You seek to couple. I understand." Supergirl offers to Drake before adding, "I have a girlfriend already. Not that I am opposed to a boyfriend, but I think we are exclusive. I'm not entirely sure. I should ask, I am not certain how your Earth customs are. Is it common for pairings to be exclusive? Where I am from… it is all arranged by computer simulations amongst the castes. I would not have had to think about it at all, but here… there is nothing -but- questions.""

* * *

Drake Riley blinks at the near-Sheldon Cooper levels of medical phrasing, complete with mild cringe. 'Couple'. It sounds so casual. So unseemly. He isn't sure why it hits the ear that way, but it does. Granted, she isn't wrong. Kara's a /painfully/ attractive girl who's just as interesting. But what she explains next kills it flat in disappointment. "Oh." All of the aforementioned disappointment is expressed in that single syllable.

Drake looks ahead again, shoulders raising in a shrug of acceptance. "It's a normal thing here, exclusivity. And to be honest, if we weren't exclusive, I wouldn't be into it. It's that exclusivity that makes it special." He glances aside to her. "Hope she appreciates what she's got, though. If she doesn't, someone else would be happy to."

* * *

There's a big grin on Supergirl's face, "Oh, she does. From, what she's told me, at least." The woman says before adding onto that, "And me her. She's so vulnerable, and cute, and fast. Like, super amazingly fast, hard to keep up. And we eat a lot of food together, it's great." There's a bit of a giggle that comes to her face, as she pauses a moment to look over at Drake some more. Having blurted out so much about her current relationshiop already, and then noticing the impact.

"Oh. You are disappointed? I think you will have luck in your attempts, so long as you stay away from people with guns robbing old ladies." At that she goes to reach into her boot to grab something, but… blink blink, her boot isn't there. "I… oh, no, I may have thrown my phone into orbit. I … I'm sorry, Drake of Los Angeles. If I've broken -another- phone I'm not sure I'll be able to get another one. If you are ever in trouble, just say my name. I'll show up." She kneels ever so lightly, bending one of her rather exposed legs, as if she's about to jump up.

* * *

Drake Riley slows to a halt as she begins addressing him directly again. He offers a weak, but supportive smile. He's disappointed, yes; so much so, an alien could figure it out. But he's not going to let that damage /her/ mood. She's happy in who she's with, and that's good enough. Besides, he doesn't really know her. Best to be disappointed now before getting too invested, right?

"You kidding? That seems to be where all the attractive girls show up," Drake teases. "Think the new strategy's to find all the ladies getting robbed and see what happens." The impish smile he adopts will hopefully convey that he's joking.

As she bends low, Drake takes a turn to fold his arms over his toned chest. "I'll, uh, keep it in mind, Kara. Be safe? Whatever it is you're about to do?" Not that it seems necessary, just given what he's seen.

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