It's Marvelous

March 28, 2015:

Ms. Marvel's starting to make a name for herself.

New Jersey

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions:

Mood Music: None.


Fade In…

With Misfit and Kate agreeing to work with Oracle and May, the two older women have been assessing who else they could approach. Talking through Mays comms channel, Oracle is reviewing the list "There's a young woman, seems to be based out of Jersey. Goes by the moniker Ms. Marvel." Oracle works with the Bats and has had several Robins to work with and yet, she still finds the multiple people using the same name confusing. Which is why Clint Barton will forever be Hawkeye Snr to her.

"Whilst she's not a big name in the circuit" Imagine calling crime fighting a 'circuit' "She's doing work down in Jersey. I think we should approach her, May. What do you think?" A dossier on the young womans activities will appear electronically for May to review.


Melinda May is even more easily perturbed by too many similar monikers than Oracle is, and why Barton will always be Barton in her book. She glances through the dossier of information sent to her burner phone. "I agree. Let's track her down to talk." She takes a moment to put all of her electronics except the commlink with Oracle into a electrostatic/elecromagnetic insulating pouch and then that into a pocket before pulling an unusual chain and pendant object from around her neck. "Give me coordinates to her location and I'll take it from there."


And what's Kamala Khan, aka Ms. Marvel, doing right now?

It's actually been a really good day. She went all the way down to Princeton to take a look at the campus — more or less at her parents' insistence, which is the same reason she's even putting in an application — and the advisers actually seemed really excited about the prospect. They made her feel more than welcome.

Now, though, she's getting off the last train and starting the walk back home. It's not far, and she knows the neighborhood well, but it's starting to get late and she's keeping an eye out. Despite that, she also has her earbuds in as she heads up the Jersey City sidewalk. She's not THAT worried about anything jumping out of the dark. Not anymore, anyway!


Oracle looks for the cell phone signal for the young woman in question and triangulates it to her latest position and sends the coordinates to May. "According to my system, it looks like she's leaving the train station and heading east, May." She could try to call Karmala, but she'll wait till May is there before initiating contact, get all the shocks over and done with at once.


"Acknowledged," May says to Oracle, then uses the ley line pendulum to send herself about a block or so away from the young woman she's supposed to approach. On Oracle's computers, it probably looks like she just instantly blinks from one spot to the next. She starts toward that train station, returning the pendulum to around her neck and concealed under her shirt's collar as she's walking.


Doot doot walking. Just walking along, hands in the pockets of her hoodie as she heads down the street. Kamala pauses at a stoplight, glancing up and down the street. Some instinct born of living in a somewhat dangerous city all her life has her look back the way she came. She… doesn't remember anyone else getting off the train at this stop, but that doesn't necessarily mean that the woman back there wasn't non-suspiciously there the whole time.


Melinda May walks along very much like Kamala does, hands in her jacket pockets just like any other civilian. Really. She does pause probably about ten yards from the younger woman to pull her phone from her pocket and glance at the screen as if checking a message or something. While she's doing so, she says very quietly for Oracle, "I see her. Do you want me to initiate contact?" Of course, this is May we're talking about. WOuld that be the wisest idea?


May's free to initiate — Kamala doesn't look like she's going to start chatting up a stranger on the street. The light changes and she goes — even this late there's still some traffic. She tends to take the better-lit, busier streets. Safer that way. But home is not on one of those, so she'll have to turn off it soon.


Oracle should know better… "Mmmm, let me call her, May. Be ready though." Leaving the comms channel open, she dials Kamala's number. When the young woman answers, she'll hear the digitally disguised voice "Hello, this is Oracle. May we speak." Of course, Oracle assumes that people have, at least, heard of her.


See, though, there's the thing. Ms. Marvel's a superhero (well, at least she kind of thinks of herself as one), but she's not really in the Know. She does pause when she hears her phone go off, but it's not the ringtone she set for her parents, and she'd kind of expected an "are you dead in a ditch" call from them before she got home. Even if she is still early for her Saturday night curfew. But it's just the regular TARDIS-wheeze of an unknown caller.

So she picks up with a 'hello' and listens to Oracle's opening remarks, a puzzled look coming over her face as she begins to walk again. At least now her earbuds are out. "Oracle? I think you might have the wrong number."


Melinda May did not change her pace when the younger woman paused to answer her phone, thus ending just a few long strides away from Kamala. She still just seems like any other pedestrian, if a particularly un-smiley one. At hearing Ms. Marvel's words to the caller on her phone, she comments seemingly idly but more than loud enough to carry to Kamala, "Oracle doesn't dial wrong numbers."


Mays comms and the phone call are conferenced together and Oracle takes the time to laugh at her own folly. "That all depends. I'm seeking the vigilante who calls herself Ms Marvel. I'm sorry for my introduction, I'm used to people know who I am. I'm Oracle and I … assist … vigilantes, crime fighters, by providing oversight and intelligence information. My friend there and I, had hoped to speak to Ms Marvel about a project we're putting together."


May's comment legitimately makes Kamala jump, and it takes that little moment of putting her hand over her heart as if to slow its sudden hammering down. "Oh man, you startled me," she begins. But May (who is intimidating, even ten feet away where you can't see her perma-glower) and Oracle on the other end of the phone apparently really are focused on her — and not to shake her down for her wallet.

"Uhhhh," Kamala begins, intelligently. "Not. Not that I'm saying I — why do you think I'm Ms. Marvel?" Lightning bolt on her hoodie regardless, she still says it. But she goes on, a slow and amazed smile making its way over her face.

"But I'm listening."


Melinda May stops and stays out of Kamala's reach, both out of habit and to reassure the young woman that she's not about to try and mug her. She also is keeping her hands in her pockets, again to reassure her. "We can talk here, or find some place less … out in the open." She might have her eyes on Ms. Marvel, but she's still very much alert to their surroundings.


"I'm called Oracle for a reason." The woman in the Clocktower responds to the question "Another name is the Information Goddess of Gotham although I'm finding more and more these days, I'm working farther afield. I would suggest that you go somewhere a little more sheltered." May is sent coordinates of several places. Oracles noted the womans penchant for out of the way coffee shops, there's a couple on the list.


"O…kay. Right. Probably sensible. I'll. I mean. You'll probably know when I'm there, so… call me back then, 'kay?" Kamala is a little rattled, she'd have to admit. But she's also just a little thrilled. More than a little thrilled. Someone noticed. They NOTICED. This is definitely a sign of Making It. Assuming Oracle doesn't have a problem with it, she hangs up and extends a hand toward May.

"I can't keep calling you 'Oracle's Scary Friend' in my head. But you can call me Ms. Marvel." It feels really, really weird to say that without a mask on.


Melinda May reaches to shake Kamala's hand, and has the grip of someone who actually WORKS for a living. You know, beating people up and stuff. "May." She leads the younger woman to the closer of the two coffee shops that Oracle suggested, and doesn't say a whole lot more until they're settled with hot beverages. May paid. "Oracle, we're here." Of course, now the very Vulcan-esque expression is likely as clear as day.


Oh man. Man. This is amazing. Kamala shakes May's hand warmly and actually rather likes that the lady has a grip. Not that she's super athletic herself, but maybe May is a superhero. A secret superhero. Like Kamala.

Her mind is buzzing, racing as she ponders what all this might mean. When they get in and get those hot beverages — green tea with honey for Kamala, because at this hour she knows coffee is a bad idea — she gets a better look at May's face.

Maybe she's a robot. Or an alien. Maybe she's an alien robot.


"Now you've met my colleague, May and you've met me. Before you ask, this is as close as most get to actually meeting me." In fact there are rumours that Oracle is a just an AI, who knows what the truth is?

"For now, we'll just call you Ms Marvel. Apart from the two of us, your identity will remain a secret until you choose to change that." Anonymity for the Bats is important. "May and I had a discussion recently and we decided to try putting together a new group. I've been watching you and think that you may be a good addition to the team. May, care to expand on that?"


Melinda May chose tea as well. Though she actually just requested a cup of hot water and produced her own toasted rice tea from a pocket inside her jacket. (Getting the tea from that pocket might have also revealed the very tiniest bit of a pistol grip concealed under her jacket. Maybe.) "The idea is to keep the group completely independent of any governmental or oversight committee, and not restricted to one particular city or region. We're hoping to get enough people on the roster that if Oracle sees a situation that needs to be dealth with, a reasonable team can be assembled from people not otherwise occupied."


"So sort of like a regional league of justice." Kamala pauses to sip at her tea. Wild thoughts aside, she's all business just now. "Because Superman and whatnot can't be everywhere all the time and I don't have, y'know, a satellite network focused in on Jersey City."

She shifts a little, tucking her feet to the side under the table. "What would I have to do? I… should probably let you know, I may not be always in Jersey City. I've applied to some schools. Princeton. NYU. Columbia. Couple others. So I'll be in the general area, still, most likely."


"I wouldn't go as far as to say that" Oracle and May have not named the group "Both of us have seen the effects of individuals working alone though." May can address the locality issue. "I have the view of the city…" both physically and digitally. There's not many places Oracle can't get to.


Melinda May nods after taking a sip of her tea. "As well as how limiting being controlled by a government can be. The only one choosing what tasks this group will be undertaking is Oracle. And that's how it's going to stay." She looks at Kamala for a moment, then adds. "Think about it. Oracle can be reached any time if you have any questions."


"Is there anywhere else I can find out about Oracle? Anyone I can talk to? I figure you're well known in, y'know, the community…" But Kamala nods her assent at last: "I'll think about it. And any other questions I have, I'll get to you. But for now," she adds with a slight smile, "I really need to get home before my mom thinks I've been murdered two blocks from the house. Thanks. It's been really something meeting you guys."

She heads out then, head swimming with all of this. She's really becoming someone.


Leaving the phone and comms channel open for a little longer, Oracle smiles to herself "Ask around within the community, most know of me… there is not much information avaiable ON me though." It's kind of what makes her so effective. Keying in a set of commands, Kamala will find an encrypted message that contains a way to securely contact the Information Goddess.


Closing the phone call down, Oracle sits back in her chair "Assessment, May?" It's hard being eyes and ears at a distance.


Melinda May thinks for a moment while taking a sip of her tea. "She has more potential than some others we've already approached, who are either already busy elsewhere or already stuck on preconceived notions. It's a bit refreshing."


"She'll need some training." Oracle considers May assessment "It is refreshing. She seemed like a bright young thing." Stretching in her chair, the red head smiles to herself "Thank you for your assistance, May. It makes things easier." Even if May is labelled as 'Oracles Scary Friend'.


Better than Battle Axe or Ninja Nanny. May finishes her tea and leaves the coffee shop. "Any other prospects you want to track down right now?" She starts back in the direction of the ley line she used to get here.


"Not right now, May." Oracle checks the list of prospects "Next two that I would like to approach are a young woman called Bluebird, operates out of Gotham. Batman knows of her and is testing her. And the EMT you mentioned, Columbia I think? I've been doing some investigation on her, interesting character."

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