maskormenacelogs | PARK ADVENTURES

[ So, word on the street (or on the tree branches, if you want to be more accurate) is that the local squirrel population is being stalked by some kind of hairy human boogeyman. It's been a few weeks since any squirrels have gone missing, but there have been hushed rumors and spooked eyewitness accounts of a hunter wielding a crossbow of all things, some complete jerk of a human who goes around shooting innocent squirrels for kicks.

Squirrel Girl has been trying to track down this guy for weeks, but it's been tough. For one thing, squirrels aren't great at describing humans, and for another, the rumors about this serial squirrel-hunter have become so overblown that he's been described as both an enormous human wearing a suit made of squirrel-fur, and a rabid monster with crossbows for hands.

... And then, one sunny afternoon in the park, there's a break in the case. SG is hanging out in a tree, as usual, when Fluffy Joe starts chittering up a storm and pointing frantically at some middle-aged dude walking down the path. ("Doreen! That's him, that's the hunter! The one who shot Li'l Jerry! I was there, I swear, I'd bet my tail on it!")

Squirrel Girl drops out of the sky and lands directly in front of Daryl Dixon, arms crossed, eyes narrowed, and tail bristling. ]

Excuse me, Mister, but you and I need to have some words.

[Daryl heard the woman coming. Hard not to when she was making such a ruckus in the trees. But he didn't figure it was anything more than something else to avoid and had started to try and move around where he'd guess she'd drop at. Of course that changed when she stood in front of him and acted like he'd stolen the pie off her window still.

He stopped and looked her up and down real quick before looking around and then back.

He didn't recognize her. The tail was a little odd. Made her look like a squirrel. Definitely an imPort.]

Why?

[ SG's eyes narrow, and she starts tapping one foot impatiently. She may be angry - or as close as she usually gets to angry - but hearing what this guy has to say for himself comes before anything else. ]

Because some friends of mine think that you need to get a new hobby. I have eyewitnesses that say you've been running aroud shooting squirrels with a crossbow. What the actual heck, dude?! Who even does that!

[That was the issue? Fucking Squirrels?]

Damn near every hunter that's ever hunted has bagged squirrels. They're decent meat for stewing.

[ He did not just say that like it wasn't a big deal. He. DID. NOT. ]

Yeah? Well as of today, squirrels are off the dang menu. Find a better way to get your kicks, or go get a salad or something if you're hungry.

[He definitely did. Because it wasn't. And now he looked ~~incredibly~~ just a little offended.]

Get my kicks? I gotta fuckin' eat, Sunshine. I don't do that shit for fun.

[ The look on Daryl's face doesn't go unnoticed, and SG pauses to take a breath and think things over. She is absolutely still upset, but something about this situation doesn't make sense. ]

Okay, wait. Hold up. What's stopping you from just going to the grocery store? Most of the time, when people are hungry, they don't break out the crossbows and go hunting, especially if they're in the middle of the city. Why squirrels and not, like... a hot dog?

Look, these guys are my friends. I can't let you hurt them.

[Daryl continued to glare and turned on his heel to try and walk away so he didn't lash out at her.]

Mind yer own damn business.

[Fucking people making friends with the fucking animals making it so he couldn't fucking hunt and grumble grumble grumble...]

[ Wait, wait, was he walking away? In mid-conversation? RUDE! SG steps in front of him, arms akimbo, and glares. She isn't very tall or imposing, but she's solidly built, and won't make it easy for him to step around her. ]

My dude, you made this my business. Listen, is this a money issue? Because I can hook you up with some food banks. I don't know what's going on here, but I'd like to help if I can.

Edited 2017-06-04 03:58 (UTC)

[He'd been trying to walk away. Why couldn't she just let him. He wasn't even hunting the squirrels in the city no more. Well, not more than once a month. Just if he got caught there when a craving hit. Having the house in Nonah helped keep that from happening.

Wasn't her business either way it went.]

It ain't none of yer concern, Sunshine. Move.

I can't do that, man. It's my concern and my business. I'll do my best to help you, if this is an issue that you need help with, but the squirrels here are friends of mine, and I won't let my friends get hurt.

... You don't actually have crossbows for hands, do you? No crossbow-hand-generation powers? Their descriptions of you got a little mixed up.

[The question about crossbow hands threw him enough that his anger evaporated while he blinked at her in sheer confusion. He lifted his hands and waved them weakly while shaking his head.]

No. All's I gots is just...

[He wiggled his hands again, then dropped them. Then took a step back and started pacing. The last time he'd tried moving away, she'd darted in front of him. So probably taking to the sky would be the better attempt.

He licked his lips and paused.]

Said it ain't none of yer business and it ain't. You don't want me hurting yer friends? Fine. Won't hunt squirrels 'round here no more. Maybe next ya should talk to the stray cats that come through. See if they'll go vegetarian.

[Just because his anger had been deflated, didn't mean he wasn't going to be ornery.]

Cats have different dietary needs than humans and you know it, buster.

... But look, nobody should have to go hungry. I know you said it isn't any of my business, like three times now, but... here.

[ She rifles around in her utility belt for a second and pulls out some business cards, some for soup kitchens, and others for a couple of local food banks. ]

There are better ways to go about this, okay? There are people who can help.

[The anger flared up again, but not at her this time. At himself. She was genuinely trying to help him get a proper meal and didn't - couldn't - understand that finding food wasn't the problem. It was eating it.

Not unless he told her.

And fuck, he didn't want to tell her. Not the details. But... hell, maybe if he just gave a vague thing, she'd back off.

He crossed his arms and took another step back, refusing the cards as he jaw clenched and he huffed a couple breaths. Then he spoke, voice quiet and terse.]

Can't eat that shit.

[ 'Can't eat that shit'... what did he mean by that? Was he talking, like, food in general?! If he was hunting squirrels for dinner, then... ]

... Oh my god, you're like a squirrel chupacabra. I didn't realize this was a dietary thing! Is this... look, there's no tactful way to ask this, but are you a vampire?

The fuck you on about?

[Srsly. What was this woman's problem? Did she always jump to conclusions like that?]

I ain't no vampire! I just can't eat food like that. Can't have it cooked to all hell and back.

[He sucked in a breath and gulped hard.]

It's gotta be raw.

[ Doreen Green, Totally Normal Import Who Doesn't Have a Tail and Certainly Isn't Squirrel Girl, is good at keeping a low profile. She's even better at putting a firm divide between her superhero life and her civilian life, and she is downright excellent at knowing when to kick back and chill out.

That said, Doreen knows where her real strengths lie: she is really, really good at helping people, and she can totally help other people learn how to relax! Superhero life is stressful as heck, between the crime fighting and the dual identities, and everybody needs to take a day off once in a while. From the way he was talking at the swear-in, Midnighter sounded like he was long overdue for a lesson, and the park in Heropa was obviously the perfect learning environment.

Doreen is kicking back on a park bench (not far from the local ice cream vendor!) when she sees Midnighter approaching in the distance, and immediately starts waving at him. ]

You must be Midnighter! My, uh, good pal Squirrel Girl told me to meet you here!

[ She is nailing this secret identity thing. ]

[Though Midnighter might still need remedial lessons on how to act like a civilian, he at least appears to have mastered how to dress like one. He's wearing a black and white flannel shirt over a black t-shirt with what appears to be a giant yellow rubber duckie on the chest, black jeans, and a black slouch beanie. A pair of aviators tops off his look. At her waving, he gives a single wave in return.]

And you must be Doreen. I'm glad to see Squirrel Girl knew you well enough to pick a day you were free.

[He has to fight the urge to wink. As "Squirrel Girl" she doesn't even cover her face.

Ah well, he'll play along. M smirks.]

We're here to test whether or not our collective beaks can handle ice cream. We're not one to turn down a challenge. Feathers crossed.

[ Doreen stops waving, takes in his outfit for a moment... and then starts cracking the hell up. Man, M really commits to the bit, doesn't he? ]

She-- she told me about your collective duckiness! You should really meet Howard, he's a small-person sized duck, you'd have a lot to say to each other!

Oh, oh dude - can I suggest another name for you? The Midnight Mallard!

[It's the little things in life he finds joy in.]

What, just because we're both ducks we'd be friends? What if I have a thing against ducks named Howard?

[A smirk.]

A good name, but it would betray our secret identity as several sentient ducks.

Well, if you did, I'd assume that you've already met him. Howard can be kind of a grump.

[ Apologies in advance to any future Howards who may show up in this world! ]

Good point, good point! But, and I feel like I have to point this out, the duck shirt might be a tipoff.

[ She completely fails to notice the irony here, especially since Doreen forgot to take off her acorn earrings this morning. ]

So! Ice cream? Think y'all can handle it?

Then perhaps we'd get along after all.

[Contrary or a fan of grumps? You be the judge.]

I could just be a rubber duckie fan. It's not like I'm wearing a shirt that says "I'm several sentient ducks in a man suit."

[He smirks.]

We'll see.

True! Props to you for taking the subtle approach.

[ She gets to her feet and stretches, beckoning M to follow her as she heads down the path towards an ice cream vendor. ]

Any thoughts on preferred flavours, dude? This is part one of the plan. Part two involves finding a park bench by the pond and eating the ice cream, while your fellow ducks stare at us and go "Aw dang, we need to find some human clothes so we can eat ice cream too! And also, we should probably grow opposable thumbs!"

[M follows in step with her.]

Not sure. Do you have any recommendations? Something to make the other ducks really jealous.

Hmmm... how about Neopolitan? That's like three flavours in one, you get chocolate, vanilla and strawberry. If you're into cookies, I think they have cookie-dough flavoured stuff, too.

[ She orders a chocolate cone for herself, and gestures at the signage so M can take his pick. ]

[M stares at the sign for almost an uncomfortable amount of time, as if he was reading each flavor letter by letter. He is, of course, ramping up the suspense to be a jerk, and eventually he opens his mouth:]

I've always wanted to eat a moose, so let me go with that. With chocolate sauce and chocolate sprinkles in a waffle cone.

[ Hey, Doreen understands what a hard decision this must be for him, she is nothing if not patient! She gives him a sage little nod when he makes his final decision, and hands the dude behind the counter some change. ]

Surprisingly bloodthirsty, for a collective ducky hivemind! Ultra-chocolate it is, though.

[ ... and then TADA, they both have their cones! ]

Alright! Now for step two: the park bench. How're you doing so far, by the way? Feelin' relaxed and appropriately off-duty?

Yes, well, gotta show the world who's top duck.

[Clutching his phone, he looks over at the benches.]

What's relaxed supposed to feel like?

[ Doreen ambles over to the nearest bench, pauses in front of it just long enough to add some dramatic tension, and then sprawls back into the thing as if it's a comfy armchair. ]

Well, it looks a little something like this. Otherwise, you're aiming for easy breathing, chill vibes, and generally just being content with your place in the universe at the moment.

[Once she's situated, he takes a seat next to her.]

If that's the case, this is going to require a lot more ice cream. I've been told I have no chill.

Okay, well I have enough cash on me for one more ice cream cone. It might help you... chill out?

[ She sells the pun with a big, cheesy wink, and even nudges M in the side with her elbow a couple times. ]

In the meantime, how does controlled breathing sound? Ever done yoga?

[Groaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan.

Only on the inside, because M sometimes remembers what manners are.]

Any chance you and Leonard Snart are friends?

[Because that dumb pun has Lenny written all over it.]

Boring, and no. I get my exercise elsewhere.

We've talked a few times, but we have some pretty opposing attitudes when it comes to things like doing crimes and paying for stuff. The puns are all me, I wouldn't step on his game.

And controlled breathing is for relaxing, not exercise, but okay. Here, try feeding the ducks! The ones in the pond, I mean.

[ And with that, she pulls a baggie of birdseed out of her purse and hands it to M. It's been in there the whole time! ]

I figured. I was referring to your yoga half of your question.

[M might not know much about civilian life, but he's relatively sure birdseed in your bag isn't a thing normal people carry.

...All right, he can roll with this. He takes the bag, and for a moment he considers tossing the whole thing to the ground, just to mess with her, but ultimately decides that's cruel even for him. Instead, he carefully scoops out a small handful and tosses it at the pond.

Like that, right??????]

[ So Squirrel Girl is just hanging out in the park, as usual (she's been here a lot lately!) when It Happens.

First, there's the jingling siren song of an ice cream cart making its way down the path. Then, just as her tail has perked up and she's started wondering how much change she's carrying in her pockets, SG happens to lock eyes with one Mr. Leonard Snart, notorious anti-villain, master troll, and as-yet-unreformed criminal.

SG's eyes narrow. Her hand reaches for her jacket pocket, where her change is stored, and time almost seems to slow down. If this were an anime, there would be some badass speed lines going on as her fingers enter the jacket.

She is buying this dude an ice cream cone COME HECK OR HIGH WATER. ]

Edited 2017-05-23 02:53 (UTC)

[If this were a cartoon, the scene would cut away from Leonard, cut back and he'd be holding an ice cream cone, licking contently.

Unfortunately it's not a cartoon and so what happens instead is that he walks over, not unaware of the dramatic tension - he's too much of a drama king for that - but intentionally downplaying it, so he can stop right in top of her with an innocent smile.]

...with cherry on top?

[ Insert record-scratch noise here! SG stops, stares, and then puts her hands on her hips, giving Len the mother of all suspicious looks. ]

... Wait, wait, wait. Dude, are you butting ahead of me in line? Or are you actually letting me buy you an ice cream cone? Because I will buy you an ice cream cone so hard.

I want chocolate.

[Why so suspicious? He's so innocent. He's the most innocent. Just smiling and waiting to get ice cream, like a good boy.]

Are you getting one too?

Of course I am! Can't let you have all the ice cream fun, Mr. Snart.

[ She steps around him to the counter, and happily orders a chocolate cone for him, and a moon-mist flavoured one for herself. ]

See how this works? The exchange of money for goods and services? Cool, huh?

[ooc: I just googled moon-mist ice cream, you never stop learning.]

So cool.

[He may be sarcastic, but even for him it's a challenge to sound sarcastic while licking ice cream.]

I never knew. Fancy. You're teaching me so much.

[Alright, that sarcasm is obvious.]

[ The More You Know! ]

Ok, I see what you're doing there? But I'm still counting this as a win. Everybody wins! The ice cream guy gets money, we get ice cream, and nobody has to get robbed in the process.

[ Undeterred by the sarcasm, she takes a bite of the ice cream and grins at him. ]

Mmm-mmm. Tastes like legality!

Aw, don't say that. You'll make my ice cream taste boring.

[In spite of that danger, Leonard seems to be enjoying his ice cream just fine at the moment, licking happily.]

So, that how you plan on fighting crime? Cause I think it's ingenious.

Well, not like all the time? I mean, I can't afford that many ice cream cones. But it doesn't hurt once in a while!

Real talk though, at least 60% of my crime-fighting is just talking to people. Mostly, people just want someone to listen to them.

Oh, sure. I'm mostly just misunderstood and I really didn't get enough ice cream growing up. Who wouldn't grow up to be a baddie?

[Pitiful, isn't he? As he happily licks ice cream.]

You're sounding more like a therapist. That ain't an insult, by the way.

I don't think you're a baddie, Mr. Snart. I think you're just bored, you like trolling people, and you haven't found the kind of legal job-slash-hobby that could give you all the kicks that a life of crime does.

... and I am not even remotely qualified for therapy. That's why I carry these!

[ She fishes around in her utility belt for a second, and pulls out a stack of business cards for local therapists, counselors, help lines, and employment centers. She's been busy. ]

I'm more about pointing people in other directions. And buying ice cream, sometimes.

Actually, I've had a quasi legal stint with a lot of kick to it before getting here. [Perhaps a bit of emphasis on the "quasi", there. Definitely a lot of emphasis on "kick".]

But good to know you've come prepared. [He's clearly amused more than anything, but, at this point? It doesn't even surprise him.]

Ooh, what was your old job? Wait, no, let me guess... extreme snowboarding. I bet you did lots of sweet tricks in some kind of underground extreme sports ring!

Nah. Used to do ice hockey when I was young though, if that helps. [Helps whatever idea she has of a younger him, that is.]

Before I got here, I was travelling through time, trying to stop an immortal dictator.

[Everyone needs a hobby.]

Fun gig.

What.

[ She's processing this information, please hold. ]

WHAT.

SHUT UP.

SHUT UP! Dude, that is so cool! No wonder you're bored, if you used to go surfing through timestreams like some kinda Marty McFly time cop! See, you can't call yourself a baddie if you go around stopping evil dictators!

Also, props for the hockey, out of curiousity, are you Canadian?

PARK ADVENTURES

FOR DARYL

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FOR MIDNIGHTER

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FOR LEN

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