trans_9 | Meet-n-Greet

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Meet-n-Greet

After being released from stasis, having the slime removed from their bodies and clothed in the creepy, pulsing leaf-suit that everyone wore, and being taken to the Weapons & Possessions lockers to collect their belongings, the new arrivals would find themselves standing in the Observation Deck. Round windows lined the fleshy walls, revealing the bright display of lights that was inter-dimensional travel. They would also discover that there were people--members of the command staff and crew that had woken earlier--waiting for them.

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Owen shrugs. "I can only guess about that. I'm supporting cast, at best, so far as the big-league heroes and such go back home. How romantically adventurous are you, kitten?" He winks at her, the nickname already sinking firmly into place.

Patsy blinks. She tilts her head the other way and raises an eyebrow. "I'm sorry, are you hitting on me?"

"Honestly? Not sure yet. 'Kitten's just cuz it suits you." Owen shrugs, waving a hand. "Got a way about me that just makes me all kindsa forward and shameless. Doc told me it's my own little brand of PTSD from Dad dieing. I've got less of a filter when it comes to being flattering to ladies."

He pauses, then smirks. "Why? Is it working?"

"..." Patsy didn't know if she wanted to walk away or laugh. "I'm sorry about your dad, really, but that has to be the weirdest form of PTSD ever," she says with a wry smile. She bites her lip and considers Owen's question. And then, grinning brightly, she says, "No," before pausing and adding, "Sorry!"

"Well then I clearly wasn't really trying." Owen grins, chuckling. "See? That's the beauty of it right there." He lifted his chin and grinned, apparently pleased with himself.

He then held up a hand and shook his head. "I'm harmless though, scout's honor."

Patsy chuckles. "I'll take your word for it," she says, nodding. "Though I have to tell you that I was trained by some of the best martial artists where I come from. So no funny stuff, mister."

Owen nods with a relaxed smile. "No worries, kitten. I can take care of myself just fine though. I got more from my mom than my fiery locks and dreamy eyes after all." Without likely having seen him reach for it, there's a boomerang in his hand.

"I've got some nifty moves."

"Nifty and smooth," Patsy replies, looking down at the boomerang. "Aren't we all sorts of talented?" She reaches out with her mind and telekinetically lifts the boomerang from Owen's hands. "Oh...whoops," she smiles as the boomerang gently whirls around in the air between the two of them.

"Not so bad yourself, kitten." Owen grins. "What else can you do?"

And with that question, Patsy's entire I'm-so-cool-calm-and-collected demanour drops and she bounces. "I have some telepathic ability too!" she practically squees. "And Moondragon was totally teaching me how to use my tk to help me supplement my fighting ability!"

Yes, she certainly does.

Oh come on! She's standing right in front of him!

Owen grins, eyes widening. "That's really cool. Me, I'm a natural with just about anything I can throw, can design some pretty special trick boomerangs, and... I've got some speed in me. Comes and goes though."

Watch it, mister. Patsy Walker saw that look!

"No control, huh? That must be horribly tragic for you."

You can't prove anything!

Owen snorts at that, rubbing his soul patch. "Watch yourself there, kitten. Don't make me find a spray bottle." He winks. "Now who's the one being cocky?"

He shrugs. "Seriously though? I can draw, throw, and catch without a problem." He holds up a hand and shakes it so fast it blurs. "It's getting my whole self in motion that doesn't always work."

"I prefer it as being catty, all things considered," Patsy says, giving the ~~hero~~ ~~villain~~ whatever he was an arched eyebrow. And then she turns a little red again and looks down. "So once you're moving, you're fine, but it's a bit of a problem getting you to move? How...do you do out in the field when you're chasing down a bad guy?"

"I do fine in the field." Owen nods, moving the conversation along. No reason to let things turn hostile at all. "It's not easy to outrun something moving faster than sound, and the force behind that gives it quite a bit of distance too."

He rubs his soul-patch again, collecting his thoughts. "Running... I can feel when it's working or not, so I'm not usually caught by surprise. Just sometimes I wish it was 'on', and it's not."

"Maybe it'll get easier once you get used to your powers more," Patsy suggests. "I just started learning how to use my telekinesis and and all of that recently, thanks to this woman named Moondragon. Without it...well, it wasn't pretty," she explains. Patsy doesn't think she was done with her training when the meatship took her, but she was NOT about to bring that piece of information up just yet. The uncertainty of it doesn't register on her face. "Still...superspeed sounds like a fun power to have. Do you know how easy it'd be to slip in and out of costume?"

Owen pauses, watching Patsy intently.

Waiting.

Waiting.

She blinks.

And his jacket is now off, hung neatly over Paty's shoulders. He smirks. "Yeah, I've got some ideas."

Patsy blinks again, wondering why that pause was so..."OHMYGOSH!" She turns bright red again and adds, "That's not what I - I mean, going between your costume and your civilian clothes." She pauses and licks her lips. "I'm just going to shut up now."

Owen stands there, still in his plant-suit and scarf, almost doubled over with laughter at Patsy's reaction. "Hahahaha... oh, kitten, you're adorable. Anyone tell you that?" He gently reaches to take back his jacket.

"Nah, you're right though, it does come in handy." He smiles reassuringly.

"A lot of people thought so back when I was a teenager," she beams. "Well, okay, so some people still think so now that I'm an adult too." Crap. "You were being rhetorical weren't you?" She shakes her head. "It would. I have to wear my costume underneath my civvies. It's not so much fun. And man, wearing a skirt is just harsh on that. Maybe one day, I'll figure a way to just...have my costume appear on me. That'd be nifty." She's rambling. Just a little bit.

"Yeah, rhetorical, but I'm not surprised you've heard it before." He winks at her.

Owen holds up a hand, pointing to his ring finger. "My little bro apparently stores his whole full-body costume inside a ring, somehow. Gotta be some big-brain types in your world, or maybe even on the ship, that could help you out with that."

He stretches a bit, rolling his shoulders before slipping his jacket back on. "As for me, just leave the weapons out of sight, and I'm good to go just about anywhere 'in costume' anyway. Leather is always in style after all." He adjusts the collar of his jacket, smiling.

"By the seven circles!" Daimon cried, spotting Patsy. He ran to her but stopped short of embracing her. Instead he gazed at her so intently it was fortunate that the Son of Satan's powers didn't include heat ray vision. "Patsy..." His voice was softer, almost tender.

He recalled what transpired the last time he saw her and shame filled his soul.

Meanwhile an awkward silence filled everything else.

Patsy had been about to say something about denim replacing leather when she'd heard that...odd little curse behind her. She paused mid-sentence, her mouth hanging open, and she looked at this man standing there in front of her. He was holding a trident and his broad chest was bare and...Hello... Her eyes darted down to the...tattoo? on his chest before looking back up into eyes that were staring very intently at her. "....yep, that's me?"

Owen blinked at the very abrupt arrival of new guy. "Uh... hi."

He turned to Patsy. "Friend of yours?"

Daimon gave Owen a disdainful glance.

"We are... acquainted." Or so he thinks.

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