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Moira Morley

Cold Open (IC)

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No one knew who Melissa Milani. No one cared. In her mind she was a quiet little dweeb from a poor family. The eldest of twelve siblings. When she got out of high school, she distanced herself from her family. Took the first bus to the east coast to live it up. But that was not to be.On the way to freedom, the bus crashed killing all of the passengers. Except one. Melissa rose from the ashes, but was different. She was bigger, stronger, more important. From that day on she took the name Princess. She found that she could turn back into her old useless self if no one was watching. She used this to do whatever she wanted. For all the world knew, Melissa Milani was dead. Princess was the one they had to deal with. A few years later, she had made her way to her destination. Well, kind of. This was no Atlantic City, but it did have some awesome people there. Princess could get or take help. Floating through a string of robberies, she teamed up with every pretty boy or girl that would appease her.

 

On the other side of the tracks, Denise Weaver grew up pampered getting everything she wanted. 'Daddy I want a pony,' she'd say and poof, a pony she'd have. 'Mommy I want dance lessons,' poof, dance lessons! Though later on, she opened her mouth and stuck her foot in it. She wanted superpowers. And, unfortunately, her parents knew exactly where to get them. The DNAscent Project. And they had enough money to go through with it. This was the final straw in Denise's sanity. She had the ability to fly and shoot energy with the power of her mind. She didn't have to ask, she could take what she wanted! And that she did. Though the novelty did wear off after a while, she could take whatever she wanted, but she had no one to share it with.

 

Princess and Denise had their eye on the same prize one day. They didn't know each other, but they saw they were kind of fighting on the same side. So after they made their get away, they shared more than just the money they'd stolen. They shared a few fun laughs, some drinks, each other. They were kind of inseparable. Princess was doing it because Denise was hot. Denise was doing it because she really thought she'd found a friend and partner in crime. Through out the past couple of months they'd team up exclusively. Which brings us to now.

 

They were both kind of hungry and there was this place called 'The Southern Queen' they could eat and knock over. "The food's good," Denise said flipping through a manual as she floated along lackadaisically. "I don't care," Princess said holding her stomach, "just point the way before my I drop. Princess needs food badly!" Denise grinned, "if it's really good we might come up some." The two rolled into the front door of 'The Southern Queen', waiting to be seated. 

Edited by Moira Morley

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Moira was hoofing it on her own today. Every so often, she'd explore parts of the city she'd never been to or just hadn't been to in a long while. It was after noon and she got the hankering for some local delicacies. Feeling like a tourist, she opened her map program and hit nearby restaurants. She saw a southern restaurant? "What does southern food even mean," she thought aloud. She walked into the restaurant and it being lunch time, there was quite a crowd! She smiled and waved to the couple at the stand waiting to be seated. A strong thick blonde girl, and willowly Asian woman who could float. Those were the two who stuck out. Maybe if they weren't too busy she could join them? "Hey," she greeted them. Just that to see if they were receptive. The blonde one was impressed, but the other just kept reading a booklet and eyeballing the two discreetly. "Name's Moira," she said reaching out a hand, "and who might you be?"

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The Southern Queen was essentially a large family restaurant.  There was a small waiting area up front with a smallish man behind the counter. His name tag read Rory. He greeted the three new arrivals in a faint English accent. “Ladies, hello. Will you be dining together today?” He was quick. They’d barely arrived and already he was looking after them. It was a sign of proper maître’d training, something you’d see in a more exclusive eatery. And yet…this clearly wasn’t a high class establishment. A quick glance over the large dining area would reveal that. The diners ran the gamut of Freedom City’s social and economic classes. There was no one well known or wealthy enough to be picked out on sight, but their attire gave them away.

 

This was when Maybelle McQueen, clad in chef’s shirt, jeans, and sneakers stepped into the small waiting area. She was carrying her chef’s hat in her hands, and she spoke with a gentle Southern accent. “Everything all right out here, Rory?”

 

Rory turned to her. “Yes, Ms. McQueen. I was just about to seat these three.”

 

Maybelle looked at the three women. “Nice to see you here.” She flashed a sunny grin. “Thanks for stopping in. Well, Rory can get you seated. If you want something special, don’t hesitate to ask your server for me. Maybelle McQueen, head chef. I’ll make you whatever you want, as long as I have the ingredients.”

 

A tall woman with striking long red hair poked her head into the small waiting area. That, and her accent, placed her origins in Scotland. “Chef McQueen? We’ve got more orders.” She flashed a familiar smile at Rory (which he returned) and departed.

 

Maybelle sighed. “Thought I had a few minutes. Oh, well.” She grinned. “Back to the salt mines.” She stepped out of the waiting area. “Amy, have Rose find Donna for me, would you? Kitchen's a madhouse today. I could use a break.” Her tone was all business. The Scotswoman voiced her acknowledgement to that.

 

With the two women departing, Rory turned back to the three women. “I do apologize, ladies.” He picked up three menus from behind his counter. “So, how many in your parties?”

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"Two," Denise said reflexively. "Don't be rude," Princess shot a look at her, "We don't want to blow off this new girl just yet," she looked to Moira, "unless you have other plans?"

 

Moira shook her head, "no, just here to grab a bite. Though I don't want to bother you two."

 

Princess sighed, "No, she's just hangry." Denise rolled her eyes, "suuure." Princess looked to the waitress, "three," she pulled a twenty from her wallet and passed it to the waitress, "make good seat." Princess was interested in small talk as they walked to the table, the weather and news about criminal activity. Denise just wanted Princess to stop ogling the woman. As they were set at their table the quick order a drinks came first. Denise needed something stiff. Princess ordered a milkshake.

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The waitress (a woman of African descent who introduced herself as Martha) got the three seated, but unfortunately had to tell Denise that the Queen didn’t serve alcohol. Chef McQueen was occasionally visible, flitting in and out of the kitchen to tend to various apparent VIPs, casual friends, and long time regulars. She looked like one happy woman, if a bit harried. It was as if this was where she belonged, more than anywhere else in the universe. And to be fair, when she did appear to tend to a table, she always left those seated there smiling as she departed.

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Moira greeted Martha with a smile, "tea, right? Sun tea, do you have that?" She looked to Denise, "it's good I hear," trying to extend an olive branch of peace. Denise nodded reluctantly. "Good," Moira happily said, "one for all three of us!" Martha took their orders there, as all three were kind of hungry. Moira, thinking this was an actual southern restaurant ordered two southern fried steaks, not knowing what the delicacy even was! Princess made with a double cheeseburger, Denise ordered a turkey club. The waitress dutifully took down all three orders. And then went back to to the kitchen.

 

"Well, this should be interesting," Moira said, leaning her chair, "if it's not too much, maybe we could learn about each other? Start off, tell me about yourselves, or maybe I'll break the ice." Princess was obviously interested to know about her, but Denise was definitely trying to 'be nice', as Moira sensed the girl's ambivalence. "My name is Moira Morley, I'm a Freedom City native. Recently took a trip to live abroad in Greece for six years. There aren't as many heroes over there as there are here." She saw Denise crack a smirk. Hey it was something! "Also," she pulled a card from her shirt, "if you're ever in the West End during the evening and need drinks," she nodded to Denise, "come on out my way. Morley's pub."

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Denise took the card and looked at it, then to Moira. She put it on the table and crossed her arms, "I guess I'll go first since my friend here is 'distracted'," she looked to Princess with a smirk. "I'm kind of a drifter nowadays. My parents kicked me out of the house after I revealed to them that I had different tastes," she sighed, "it's not what it sounds like, I have superpowers and they, well, they didn't. I think they thought I was a Terminus kid or something," she lied. "Now I travel a lot. Meeting new and interesting people." She looked to Princess again. "And I rob banks to give to orphans," she said poking daggers in Princess with her eyes. "I lie," she said with a facetious smirk, "there are no orphans."

 

Princess was listening, but was to busy looking at Moira, "yeah, the bank thing," she giggled, "that's not true." She still had stars in her eyes. "I'm a hero, kinda," flexing an arm upwards, she had a thick athletic build, the type Instagram gym models would kill for. "I protect what's valuable to me. You could be," she said grinning. She finally took her eyes off Moira to look at Denise, "oh right. Uh, yeah. Her too."

 

Denise couldn't stand it anymore, she stood up in a huff, yelling loud enough to quiet the whole restaurant, "@#$%! You!" She pointed at Princess. "The @#$% I have to put up with!" She wiped a tear away, "I don't have to put up with this @#$%anymore," she looked to Moira, "But first, @#$% your new @#$%&!" She motioned towards Moira shooting a purple glob of energy that missed it's mark but grabbed her chair instead, moving it from under her. "This is a @#$%ing stick up. she shouted, anyone moves and I'll throw you the the god@#$% roof!" She looked to Princess, "you too, @#$%&."

Edited by Moira Morley

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“HEY!” The irritated shout came from Chef McQueen (who was now covered in a translucent silvery field). “The heck you think you’re doing in my place?” There was stupid, and then there was stupid. Maybelle McQueen, alias the superhero Queenie, more or less owned the building and business they were in. She was here. And most importantly, she didn’t have a secret identity. “Leave. Right now. And then maybe I won’t kick your butt down the block for breaking my furniture and scaring my customers.” Oh, but she was pissed.

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Denise snarled at the hero's taunt, not paying attention. "Of course," she mumbled to herself, "this city is sick with them. Can't go a minute without finding a hero." She looked over to Maybelle, "If you want to have this out, Chef Glowstone, you'll get some of the roof action too!" She pointed at Maybelle and shot another purple glob of energy at her. It attached to Maybelle and launched her into the roof!

 

Princess stood up as Denise began to quarrel with the cook. She wasn't going to take this lightly. But for now, maybe silver would beat purple. She looked down to Moira and offered a hand up. Moira obliged standing up. Both of them were not about to let this go unnoticed. "Don't worry about her, she's just jealous," Princess taunted her now former lover.

Edited by Moira Morley

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Maybelle McQueen may have gone through the roof, but it was a thoroughly pissed off Queenie that flew back through it. “Seriously?! Do you have any idea how much repairs cost?! Oh, sunshine…that was your last mistake.” Queenie whipped out a hand, and silvery energy the same shade as the force field gathered in the palm of her hand. “I don’t know who you are, and right now I don’t care. This is my place. My blood, my sweat, my tears. You think you can just come in here and do whatever you want?” The energy struck directly at Denise. “YOU’RE WRONG!”

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Moira questioned this whole set up. Princess was throwing petty insults and not really helping anyone but her. While it was a 'nice' gesture she guessed, Moira couldn't help but notice the two were in league and basically this heist was their break up. MOira was not impressed at all. "You do know that taunting her is going to cause more property damage, right," she looked to Princess with a quirked eyebrow as Denise and Maybelle fought in front of them. "Listen, you're beautiful and all, but I get the hunch that you're not my type. This ratchet noise has to stop."

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The blast of silver energy connected squarely, ripping Denise's coat and burning into her side. "I should have guessed. You got energy. But I'm going to kick you down and take off of yours, Glowy," she lied, badly. She was trying to keep her spirits up as her ex was over there flirting with the enemy. "You want energy, Cheffy, have all the energy!" a large line of purple energy zapped into Maybelle. Feeling it was less energy and more like some weird body shot that felt like a glob and disapated instantly.

 

Princess frowned a little bit and then crinkled up her nose in disgust, "you know what? I don't need your sass. I don't need an of you. The whiny girl. The angry super chef. The high maintenance girl. Forget all of you!" She hauled off and delivered a swat at Moira that hit perfectly, but did not seeming crumple her like she thought the smaller woman would. Her heat leapt into her throat, "@#$%!"

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Queenie winced. She’d felt that second one. The woman had some power. The ring slinging chef was mad, but the first irrational burst had past. There were customers to protect, and it wouldn’t do to see their chef acting like a raging berserker. Her hand glowed brightly, and another more powerful blast of silvery energy struck at Denise. “I’m giving you one last chance to go. After that, the gloves come off and your girlfriend gets to see you get your butt kicked.”

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Moira surveyed the situation. Queenie was tensing up. Not knowing her personal work, Moira never heard 'Queenie was an angry person'! Princess was egging on Denise. Denise was robbing the place. A metaphorical lightbulb popped above Moira's head. "This is gonna hurt you more than it hurts me," she reared back with an open palm, slapping Princess hard. But not hard enough. Her hard head(?) absorbed all of the blow. Though that wasn't the method to Moira's madness. Sure it would have helped to hurt her, but she surmised that Denise still cared. She was about to put that theory to the test!

Edited by Moira Morley

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Denise saw the ensuing blow. Even though it didn't seem to hurt Princess, the stupid person who just slapped her did not know who she was dealing with! Denise put all of her energy into the attack, screaming madly. Moira was easily able to dodge the emotional attack, but she got what she wanted. An angry flying blaster off of Queenie.

 

Princess was not about to take this slight standing. The girl was pretty, but maybe she didn't listen so well. "You stupid or something? I told you we do this thing" Princess said as she took a swipe at Moira. Moira dodged that too. This only made Princess angrier. "come on you stupid pretty @#$%&! Let's go!"

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