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Summary: Megan comes upon Tony out near the Brooklyn Bridge and talks to him about a conversation she had the other night with someone who had a clear dislike of the Avengers.
Date: October 27, 2010
Log Title: A little ran never hurt anybody…yet.
Rating: G
//NYC- Brooklyn Bridge //
Spanning across the East River is the Brooklyn Bridge connecting Brooklyn to Manhattan. Its one of the oldest suspension bridges in the United States and was opened for use on 1883. Two yellowish towers span up on either side of the bridge. At night the bridge can bee seen lit up with lights across the top cables of the bridge. The Brooklyn Bridge is designed for bikers, pedestrians and automobiles. There is a bike and walking track in the center for those who just want to walk up and enjoy the view from the river.
It was a wet Wednesday showing no signs of drying up anytime soon. Normally the Brooklyn Bridge played a host to cars, bikes, and foot traffic but with the light rain occurring off and on there wasn't much to speak of other than the usual car traffic. Off in the distance the sidewalk running along the river collected puddles that provided entertainment for the occasional child to stomp in with their parents admonishing them for spraying water everywhere. Stone benches lined the sidewalk facing the old suspension bridge providing a place to rest and enjoy the view. On such a moistened bench sat Tony Stark still looking remarkably unlike himself underneath a black beanie hat covering platinum blonde hair. Anyone passing might be hard pressed to recognize him as he's leaned back in a pair of cargo pants, tennis shoes, a hooded sweatshirt and shades, the only thing that could give him away is the go-t that is growing back in that is clearly his natural hair color.
Rain or no rain, Megan is on a mission! The butterfly winged mutant is taking advantage of the rain slacking off for a little while and fluttering through the air to keep her shoes as dry as possible. At the moment, the teenager is wearing an orange turtleneck under a black t-shirt with silhouettes of cats and pumpkins in orange on the front, a pair of snug fitting jeans, and black sneakers that look like they don't get much use.
She's about ten feet off the ground, a closed umbrella clutched in her right hand as she slowly loses height to land on a semi-dry bit of sidewalk not far from where Tony is sitting. Her pink hair is held back in a high tail with a few wisps framing her face. When the girl spots the man seated on the damp bench, she gives a bright little wave and starts off down the sidewalk, only to stop again once she's a few feet past him and glance back with a curious expression on her face, though she doesn't, yet, speak.
For a moment the man seated on the bench seems lost in thought until he's aware of someone /landing/ nearby. It wasn't every day that Tony saw a young girl with wings descend from above to toss him a cheerful wave. A curious eyebrow lifts from behind dark shades as he offers up a so-so wave to her, and the eyebrow lifts even more so when she turns back towards him after a few feet. "Good afternoon."
"Prynhawn da." Megan's voice holds the lilting accent of someone from Wales when she speaks. She looks up at the sky just in time to get a raindrop on the end of her nose, and makes a face, "Horrid weather today…" At least it is in her opinion. She reaches up to wipe the rain off of her face and shakes her head, "I, um… I don't suppose ye've seen a red haired woman about, have ye?" She'd like to give that 'Willow' person a piece of her mind for talking badly about the Avengers last night.
"Welsh?" The rain was not all that troublesome at the moment but earlier it had been pouring buckets so the comment made sense to the reclined billionaire. "According those in the know the weather should be taking a turn for the worst in the next hour or so. As for a red haired woman? I would remember if one had passed but unfortunately none have happened this way as of yet, just a few kids dragging their parents through the puddles." With the knowledge of the incoming change in weather Tony rises up from the bench while shoving his hands into the front pocket of his hooded sweatshirt.
Megan nods, blushing, "Oh, aye." She wrinkles her nose slightly at her slip in which language she's speaking, "I said 'good afternoon'." She sighs and shakes her head at the mention of the weather, "Arri… I know. I'll be heading back to the school here in a bit. I was just looking for someone I was chatting with last night. She said some things about the Avengers that really bothered me." The girl's wings flutter a bit at that, but she doesn't elaborate, instead changing the subject, "Don't take this the wrong way, sir, but do I know ye? Ye look a bit familiar…" Maybe like someone seen on TV?
"'Sdim ots. I, myself, am not Welsh but I get around." Tony offers up a slight smile though he steers the conversation towards the offered up morsel of conversation that interests him personally. With a shrug of his shoulders, "Personally you wouldn't know me, however, you do know me. I'd like to hear a bit about this person you are searching for and what might have been said in passing conversation if you don't mind sharing." The shades are pulled off to be folded up, an arm sliding into the neck of the hoodie to allow them to dangle under the slightly fuzzy chin. If it wasn't obvious now the young woman is helped along by a rather reluctantly revealed, "Anthony Stark. You are?" A hand pulls free from the hoodie to wave in Megan's general direction.
The girl positively beams to find someone who knows Welsh, "Sometimes I miss being home with Mum, but it's nice to be able to see the world a little, too." Megan cocks her head seriously at that cryptic response to her question, confusion flashing across her face for a moment before it's dismissed as being unimportant, "Oh, aye. She compared the Avengers to the Nazis and Iron Man and Captain America to Hitler!" She huffs, folding her orange clad arms across her chest, "I was trying to tell her that they don't hurt people and that they protect mutant rights as much as human rights, but she wouldn'a listen to me."
Her eyes widen slightly when the shades are removed and her jaw drops a little, "Ye're him!" Now the full force of the teenager's almost blinding smile is focused fully on the Avenger, though it soon turns sheepish and she blushes almost to match her hair, "Ymddiheuraf, Mr. Stark. I shouldn'a of told ye such horrid things. Was just some idle chatter in the rain, is all." She pauses for a moment before introducing herself, "I'm Megan Gwynn."
"Forgive my lapse in response," Tony begins as he has been standing in front of Megan for several minutes apparently deep in thought. "It is a pleasure to meet you Miss Gwynn. Do not feel the need to apologize for another's comments. I am used to hearing numerous disreputable things, and you are clearly not a party to such beliefs." Though sadly Tony can't help but think of several individuals that spring to mind that have less than stellar opinions of himself and what the Avengers stand for. "I wonder where people come up with some of this stuff. Hitler? I'm being compared to Hitler? I'm actually speechless…"
Megan clasps her hands behind her back and shifts her weight slightly while waiting, a little nervously, for some kind of response to what she'd said, only relaxing when he doesn't seem to take offense or want to shoot the messenger, shaking her head, "The pleasure is mine, sir." She beams at Tony again, "I didn'e think I'd ever have the privilege of meeting one of the heroes who work so hard to keep all people safe." There's the slightest emphasis on the word 'all' and she shakes her head, "Nay, I don'e hold with such nonsense. Ye and the other Avengers have never shown to be anything other than good people." There's another little grimace and she shakes her head again, in agreement with the whole being speechless thing, "I truly didn'e know what to say…"
"We try our best, but there will always be someone who has a different point of view, no matter how ridiculous it may be, and they are entitled to have their opinions. I would hope that one day those who speak ill of those trying to make things right, for more than just those Stateside, would fall silent if not speak kindly about everyone that risks their lives to ensure the safety of others." That sort of turn about would be more of a dream than something that would ever become a reality as the thought was older than Tony was. "This subject actually matches the weather rather well if you ask me. I don't blame you for not coming up with something to say to that. I'm sure Cap would love to hear that he's apparently a Nazi and not only a Nazi but the Nazi." There is a bit of humor there given anyone would know how Captain America feels about the Nazi party. "Try not to dwell on things like this too much. Though if your conversationalist happens to walk past us I would love to hear their thoughts as most would not dare to speak their mind with the target of their anger standing in front of them. It could end up quite interesting, and perhaps yield some amusement, if they puffed up like Glenn Beck on me. "
"I was… I was just flabergasted!" What is there to say in responce to someone that says something like that? Megan certainly isn't any bog orator, but she did do her best to defend the heroes, "T'would be like someone calling the X-Men Friends of humanity!" Neither party would be very pleased with that! She makes a face at the thought of the reaction Captain America would have for being compaired to Hitler, "I don't think I'd want to be a fly on the wall for that conversation. It might get kind of scary." She looks up at the sky and grimaces again at the dark clouds overhead, "I suppose it does, at that… It wouldn'a be right to talk about such things if it were true flying weather." And apparently, the winged teen judges the weather by how easy it is to fly.
The mostly bundled up for bad weather Avenger seems to agree with the young woman's opinions. "I'm not sure I want to even bother mentioning this conversation to Cap in the near distant future, if at all, considering it would be me who would never hear the end of it. Hilter…" There's a heavy sigh from the altered human as he watches Megan lift her gaze back to the gloomy skies above. "This is not very good flying weather at all. I thank you for sharing your conversation with me. I truly hope you do not run into anyone else with similar opinions in the near future." Especially if said conversationalist might be someone that might bear an actual axe to grind instead of relatively harmless words. "I shouldn't hold you up any longer as the heavens can open up at any moment. I wouldn't want you to end up grounded out here."
Rainbow colored wings flutter once more and Megan shudders dramatically, "T'wouldn'a be a pretty sight." She shakes her head and hefts her umbrella, "Tis why I brought this with me. And money for transportation to get back to Weschester should the skies open up again." She wrinkles her nose at the thought of someone that's got more than just an offensive opinion to share and shakes her head, "I woundn'a want to have to call for help." Especially since it would likely take a while for help to arrive what with half of the student body and teachers at Xavier's being missing. She offers another bright smile, rocking forward slightly and rising on the balls of her feet for a moment, "T'was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Stark."
Tony bows his head towards her as he takes a step back thinking that she might be lifting off towards the grey skies. "It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance as well, Miss Gwynn." Despite feeling rather depressed, and slightly cold from sitting on a rain soaked bench in the drizzle for well over an hour, he has a smile for the bewinged girl. "Perhaps I will see you again," pointing upward with his forefinger. "I'll be the one streaking by in the tin can."
Megan can't help but smile at that, "Ye can call me Megan." Beat, "Or Pixie, I suppose." A rather fitting name for the fairy-like mutant, "Tis what my team calls me, at least." She gives a little wave and flits up a few feet into the air, giggling at the comment about being in a tin can, "I'll wave when I see ye, sir. Hwyl am nawr!" And with that, the teenager is off, heading back north toward the school.
