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Gwen may be able to lift cars, dodge bullets and travel hundreds of feet above the street, but the gutters still need cleaning at the house which has become hers. So, out comes the ladder, brcause the last thing she needs are the neighbors wondering how she gets on and off the roof.
She is not wearing her jacket, so all she is wearing is the striped long-sleeved shirt, the faded jeans, and a pair of Converse sneakers.
And rubber dishwasher's gloves. Because YUCK. She found a dead squirrel not ten minutes ago!
There is a transistor radio sitting on the porch. It is tuned to WMCA, currently playing Dion's "The Wanderer."
On the sidewalk in front of the house, a brunette in a black knee-length skirt and a cheerily-hued three-quarter-sleeved shirt in fuscia pauses. Over her arm and then wrapped again is a leather motorcycle jacket. The address was, indeed, stitched into the inner pocket of said lining and there she is, Rosemarie, eyeing the work being done on the house.
She's leery about interrupting the process, since there's a ladder involved, but walking up the sidewalk might be enough to gain attention without too much noise. Just in case though, when she nears the ladder, she adjusts her courier purse and calls out quietly,
"Gwen?"
While the mosque in Jersey City may be small, the Imam there takes great care to tend to his flock. During his morning sermon, he spoke to the community of the great example that Captain Stacy had set and that his passing placed a hole in all of their hearts - one that should be filled with civic responsibility. It took only a few moments for Kamala Khan to realize that this was the same Stacy that had a daughter roughly her age that had helped her out in a time of need.
And Kamala has been a terrible friend as of late, selfishly tending to her school duties and trying to be a teenager - oh, and being turned into a morphagenetic alien of sorts.
We'll gloss over that last part. After speaking to her Ammi for a while and helping out, the young woman took at least three buses to cross from Jersey into Manhattan and then to Queens. The stop that she found nearest to Gwen's house was two blocks away. She is dressed conservatively, a long-sleeve embroderied tunic that muddles her figure and scarf combo, with leggings and her own personal touch - sneakers.
She looked down at the address written on the large casserole dish she carries and matches it just as someone else arrives. For a moment, she considers walking on - after all, she doesn't know the girl that well. But duty and honor continue to move her feet as the Pak-American puts on a warming and concerned smile.
"Hi." she greets Rosemarie, since she's on the ground. "Are you a friend of Gwen's?"
The head appears over the side of the roof. Her first reaction to anything new is a smile, and she does not disappoint. She smiles widely, then waves down to the two of them.
"Rosey! Kam! HEY!" She moves around on the roof, and then a hammer drops into the hedge in front of the house. "FATRAT! Hey, I'll be right down!" She moves to the side of the house, then to the back. Okay, she put it in the back. Good to know.
She slides downt eh ladder, tossing the gloves aside before entering the house through the back. Best for all concerned, the gloves STILL smell like the squirrel.
A few scant seconds later, she opens the front door and smiles at the two girls. "Come on in, you two! Wow, Kam, it's been a dog's age! How are you?"
Movement gains her attention and indeed, another person is approaching! Young, this one, a teenager by the looks of her, carrying a cooking dish. Rosemarie offers up a shy, close-lipped smile first before replying to Kamala,
"Y-Y-Yes, I s-sup-ppose. I h-have t-t-to ret-turn her j-jacket. I b-b-borrowed it." She glances up at Gwen skittering around with great confidence so high up on that roof and takes a few steps back after seeing the descent of the hammer. Wouldn't want to be beaned by a dead squirrel. Ew.
Once the front door opens, she gives Gwen that same hesitant smile and shifts the jacket meaningfully in her arms. "Y-Your j-j-jacket," she says quietly as she enters the house, looking around with silent interest in her cinnamon-brown eyes.
As she catches the stutter, Kamala turns concerned. She's not worried she's scared the woman, but can understand the patience required and waits for her to finish speaking to Gwen first before she moves forward, careful to step around the squirrel if there is one nearby, before she steps up on the porch. "I know. I have been a terrible friend and was not here when you needed friends the most. My apologies." she offers, before glancing to the dish. "Ammi and I made lamb biryani - it's probably enough to feed the neighborhood!" she admits. One one hungry Kamala when she's healing. "It's got lamb, and rice, potatoes, currants, spices…" she explains, in case Gwen wants to know.
The living room is utilitarian. Sofa, loveseat, recliner, hi-fi set, large TV cabinet, an open archway reveals the dining room with a table that can seat four, and the kitchen beyond. The furniture is old, but it has that sense of quiet age and permanency. There are slight scents of gun oil and metal even under the more welcome scents of Lysol, a "bouquet" of eucalyptus branches with leaves that give the room a fresh, herby scent.
Gwen smiles and takes the coat gratefully. "Did you clean it? It looks brand new…" She looks to Kamala and smiles. "Jeez Louise, where are my manners? Kamala, this is my friend, Rosemarie. She doesn't mind that I call her Rosey…at least, I HOPE she doesn't." She smiles warmly to Rosemarie. "Rosey, this is Kamala Khan. We met some tims ago, at the beginning of summer." She takes a whiff. "Hoo boy, Kam, that smells delicious!" She looks back to Rosemarie. "Want to join us for a meal? I can't wait to see how this tastes, and food always tastes better with company."
The place seems pleasant and Rosemarie stands to one side as introductions are made. Her smile's a little braver this time around as she looks from Gwen to Kamala.
"N-N-Nice t-to m-meet y-y-you, Kamala. I d-d-don't m-mind Rosey." The leather jacket, sturdily fabricated and smelling faintly of cinnamon, is returned to the pale-blonde. Success. "I d-d-did c-clean it, y-yes. It h-had c-c-c-cat hair on it." A little blush beneath the sprinkling of freckles betrays minor embarassment for it. After all, not everyone likes cats. "I h-h-have a l-little t-t-time to stay, sure. It smells w-w-wonderful," she adds to Kamala, shifting her weight in a shy fidget.
"Salam." comes the polite if warm greeting from Kamala to Rosemarie, but she's taking a longer look at Gwen as she sets down the dish and goes to turn on the oven. "It'll take a few minutes to warm back up!" she offers and then frowns. "You.. what happened?" she asks as she puts a hand on her hip to look more pointedly at Gwen.
"I mean.. you grew!" comes the admission as she takes an assessing look over the blonde woman. "Last time I saw you you were all skin and bones and that's what I told Ammi and that's why she made so much." there's a nervous little laugh at that. "But yes, meals are enjoyed with company. You are doing well?" she asks Gwen in concern.
Well Gidget had sent a message to Gwen about the project and that it was done! Given an address to head to she wouldn't think anything of it at first but was a bit in work mode to even worry. Since she was at her office, she boxed up the item in question, wrapped it up with a bow and smiled to herself.
Hopping in a cab she'd head over and was dropped at that front door. Giving a knock she would blink a bit as she looked down and shook her head. "I really need to learn how to dress down." That 5'10" tall drink of water was wearing a fitted beige wrap skirt with a some flowers embroidered up the side, a beige silk long sleeve blouse, and heels. Pulling her oversized shades off she would stuff them in her hand bag and adjusted the package under her arm.
Gwen forgot. Yeah. Before the bombing.
She is about to try Explanation #5 (which was a lot like Mambo #5, a lot of dancing going on) when the doorbell rang. "Oooh, hold that thought. I think I know who it is."
She practically pranced over the the door, which is hard to do in Converse sneakers. She opens the door, allowing Gidget to see her in her striped shirt and jeans. "Gidge! Hi!" She looks back to the others, a sly smile on her face, then says, "Won't you come in? A friend make a VERY delicious-smelling dish, and the more the merrier." She steps back and nearly yanks Gidget inside. "Hey, you two. I want you to meet a fashion designer I know. She goes by the handle of Gidget…and no, no jokes, she's probably heard them all. Gidge, the one on the left is Kamala, the bringer of the feast. She's ridden in my car and STILL came by anyway, so she's braver than she look. The other quiet one is Rosemarie, but I call her Rosey and she doesn't seem to mind. I met her at the library while I was doing some research and she was VERY helpful."
Rosemarie, with arms now freed, twiddles her fingers lightly in Gidget's direction. Her gaze skitters away a few times before she tries another small smile.
"N-N-N-Nice to m-m-meet y-you, G-Gidget." It almost sounds like "gigi-ette" with that stutter, but hey, she's trying! The librarian continues to hang back and to one side, hands held primly about her waist. She's trying not to knot up the loose fabric of her blouse and succeeding so far.
Hey, it's Mambo #5! Kamala knows this dance very well, because she's totally doing it herself. The sweet sweet dance of the infidels with secrets. Ahem. While Gwen is being a good hostess, Kamala is setting out plates and cups and silverwear. "To be honest, Ammi made it, I just helped her!" she admits with a laugh, "Though she's always saying to me, 'Beta, you are old enough to be a wife, you should know how to cook properly for your husband!'" She sticks out her tongue at that. "Thankfully, the teenaged boy population of Jersey City that fits their wants isn't all that great."
The house smells faintly of eucalyptus that's now at war with heavy Indian spices, rice, and lamb that Kamala is heating up in the oven. "Salam!" she greets the newcomer as she comes out of the kitchen to offer a bow of her head to Gidget.
When the door opened she smiled and waved a hand. "Hey! I wasn't expecting a party." Laughing she would just shake her head and made her way in. Running her fingers through her short dark hair she would then give Gwen a smile. "And food? I may take you up on that. I haven't eaten yet."
Looking at the other two women she would wave cheerily as she smiled. "Nice to meet you two! Sorry if I'm crashing. I just wanted to drop something off." And with that she would snap and then turn to Gwen to hand her that box with a satin bow. "There. All done. I uh….let me know if there's any problems with the fit." Nodding she'd then look back to Gwen's friends. "And yeah…..I've heard all the jokes. As for fashion designer….don't let her fool you. I'm still an apprentice but my mentor lets me manage his fashion house here in the states."
Gwen puts the box aside. "Gidget, you have labored to produce for a very special person with design problems that baffle other bigger names. I think she'd be happy to wear a one-of-a-kind Gidget Original." She smiles to the other two. "Kam, you didn't have to…oh, heck, I'm glad you did. Anyway, the client has a special issue that requires clothing that will work with altered states of existence. I offered to help, because…" She looks around, then whispers conspiratorily, "…I happen to know a costumed vigilante."
The little laugh escapes Rosemarie before she tucks her chin and clears her throat. Indeed, the first time she met Gwen, that woman was upside down and clinging to the ceiling and boy, was it startling. She would need a costume to divert general public freakout away from herself. In fact…
She'll get brave enough, surely, to ask after a costume — or maybe a mask. Her Shi'ar powers are abrupt and obvious things at times. It's a merry bunch, all of them gathered here, and she speaks up quietly.
"Sh-Should w-w-we go eat?"
"Friends help each other in times of need…" Kamala responds with a curve of her lips in a smile of support. That is until Gwen points out the needs of the outfit and that conspiratorial whisper, one can see the color drain from the tanned skin of the young woman. H..how? She swallows really hard and nods very quickly to Rosemarie. "I'll go pull it out of the oven. Do you have something to drink?" she asks Gwen.
Because she's suddenly really thirsty.
Laughing she would nod and give the girl a hug. "Well I'm just glad I was able to help. There shouldn't be any fitting problems because of the material but still please let me know. I understand if she doesn't want me there for the fitting." Then with a smile she'd inhale deeply then sighed. "Oh my this does smell good." Hearing Rosemarie she'd nod as she found a place to set her handbag. I agree. I'm getting hungrier by the minute." Looking over at Kamala she'd raise a brow then tilted her head. "Um…..I don't have anything no. Water?" She looked to Gwen then with a playful smirk. "I could have brought wine had I known."
Gwen nods. "I have juice and water. I…think my dad's liquor cabinet is still locked, but I have the key. Never even bothered to look in there. I don't drink alcohol, so I never checked." She doesn't seem to notice Kamala's sudden change in skin tone, looking over to Rosemarie with a gentle nod. "Yes, Rosey, let's. Anyone mind if I take a quiet minute to say grace? I know everyone has different beliefs, I you can pray, or think, or ponder for that minute." She clasps her hands together and bows her head slightly.
With everyone in the dining room and the reheated dish soon to arrive, Rosemarie picks a seat and stands behind it, resting her hands upon the back of the chair.
"I d-d-don't m-mind," she replies to Gwen softly. Gidget and Kamala are given another glance and she decides to inquire into costuming at the next opportunity with the fashionista. As far as that dish goes…it smells wonderful. Her stomach does a little grumble.
Breezing into the dining area with the dish, Kamala gives a light laugh. "I was more than happy to assist." she offers as she sets down the dish on a pair of pot holders so not to scorch the table as she waits for the others to arrive. The biryani is uncovered for the group, and she sets the serving spoon in the dish for the moment as Gwen speaks.
"I do not drink either. Water's fine." Kamala's religious tenets do not allow the consumption of alcohol, so she's perfectly fine with the alcohol cabinet staying locked. At Gwen's request for a prayer, the young woman offers a smile and places her hands polietly in her lap as she too bends her head. Different religions, but there are many similarities.
"Um….." She'd put her hands in her lap after sitting then but just sat there. "Sure…." Looking around for some sort of social cue…..she didn't know what to do exactly.
Gwen doesn't draw it out. She whispers under her breath, then gives a good ten-count before looking up. "All right. If everyone's ready let's eat before I start gnawing on my chair."
Seating herself, Rosemarie looks around the table at the group and has a moment of appreciation. This is…nice. Normally surrounded by books and attended by her own personage — the librarians are normally busy enough that paths rarely cross between the shelves; unless you've got desk duty, you're by yourself — the company is both novel and soothing. The Shi'ar Warbird in her psyche is pleased. A flock at last, perhaps?
"It-t smells w-w-wonderful, Kamala," she says. "I d-don't think I've h-h-had it b-b-before. What's it c-c-c-called ag-gain?"
After raising from her prayer, Kamala smiles brightly. "It's called biryani. It's made from mutton, rice, spices and vegetables." she offers as she steps to go find the cold water to dole out. She's pretty much serving as a waitress for the group. Of course, it's what she does back home as well. She returns with the pitcher of water before she moves to take her own seat once everyone else is settled.
As soon as she's about to sit, Kamala glances at her watch and blanches. "It's that late? I have to get back to the mosque!" she's quick to rise and gives a wave to the others before she's heading out the door to get to the bus stop as fast as possible.
Waving to Kamala as she left she went back to looking at the food. "I've some different foods in my life but not this….." Looking at the plate of food in front of her would pick up here fork and take a bite. "Oh my god this is good….."
Gwen smiles and waits her turn before serving herself a large helping. "I'm getting hungry just melling it." She takes a bite, then smiles. "Have you ever tasted a dish that was so well-made, you don't dare add so much as a sprinkle of salt without ruining it?" She points to the biryani. "This. This right here. Taste it before you think about seasoning it."
And with that, she begins to eat—not ravenously, but hunger makes for a good seasoning, and Gwen burns a LOT of calories doing what she does. She is trying to figure out what goes into the webbing, carbs or proteins. She wished she paid more attention in Chemistry.
"B-Bye….K-Kamala," the brunette ventures as the other woman rushes out the front door again. Bringing her half-offered wave back, she turns and eyes the food. Her serving is a tad gratuitous as well, though she's found ways to calorie-boost after dealing with Shi'ar changes by simply eating the calorie-packed food rather than attempting to over-eat. It was a hard learning curve there once or twice.
She sips at her water and glances over at Gidget. "S-So. Y-Y-You're in f-f-fashion? B-B-But y-you m-m-m-make…costumes f-for p-p-people with…" Her bravery fails her and a few beats of silence pass before her eyes rise back to the fashionista again. "Powers?"
She'd take another bite and nodded to Gwen. "I have…..and this is definitely one of them. I want to find this somewhere now in the city…." Chuckling she would then look to Rosie and smiled brightly. "Yeah. I kind of fell into it. But I feel since I'm nothing special like that…..I can help with my training. So I've been helping a couple of people develop their own style that's functional and keeps them safe. I mean some powers might be more challenging to dress but….it all depends……"
Gwen swallows her food and smiles. "You know someone who needs her help, I have her number." She looks to Gidget. "Talk to you directly, or use me as an intermediary. Lord knows you have more business with me and it would not look out of place. You still need to gussy me up for the Policeman's Ball."
Rosemarie nods and listens to the two chat while she picks at her serving of the delicious biryani. Noted — she'll have to ask for that phone number. Another few bites and then she looks up again, cinnamon-brown eyes a bit brighter for becoming comfortable in her surroundings.
"P-Policeman's B-B-Ball? I d-d-didn't th-think they d-did things l-l-like that."
"Oh Gwen….." Rolling her eyes playfully she would smile then take another bite. "I don't mind. It's all about the clients comfort. If they don't want me knowing their super secret then of course I'll let you be my intermediary. At this rate I may have to start to pay you.". Laughing a bit Gidge would just sip at her water.
Gwen winked. "MAYBE I'll ask for a break with the clothing. But that's it. I like to think I'm helping people do the right thing…helping it be POSSIBLE for them to do the right thing." She looks thoughtful. "That should count for something…"
"I-I'll have t-t-to ask y-you about a c-c-costume, I th-think," Rosemarie interjects quietly into that conversation before taking another bite of the food before her. Indeed, it needs no salt. In the interim, she ponders what design would work to keep her identity hidden while allowing for feathered wings, of all things.
Giving Gwen a wink she would smile. "Well I would say that's more than fair. Heck I planned on giving you a break on your party outfit." A simple shrug then before she would hear Rosie. Blinking she would look over to her with a head tilt. "Oh?" Looking over to Gwen she would let her gaze linger then back to the girl. "Any idea in mind or…..?" Now she didn't know how to handle this. Gwen was right there but she obviously knows some supers but she didn't want to out the other girl either.
Gwen smiles wryly. "What say I start getting these dirty dishes while you two chat? I'm going to do my best mime impression and let Rosey do all the talking." She stands up, then starts collecting plates, utensils, and used glasses.
Left alone to explain her reasoning to Gidget gives Rosemarie a rather long time to collect her thoughts. Well, her shy nature does, at least. Finally:
"I-I-I…I n-n-need something that w-w-will…k-keep m-me from b-b-being recognized w-when…m-my p-p-powers show." She clutches her hands in her lap and tries very hard to keep her shoulders from rising about her ear. Her gaze is for the table, apparently. A hard swallow. "….w-w-wings t-too," she finally whispers.
That brow would raise as she saw Gwen running for the hills. Shaking her head she would smile then as she looked back to Rosie. A tilt of her head then she would smile over at her. "Oh! Well….I mean you're trying to hide the wings or just need something to accommodate them?"
Gwen smirked. "If anyone is going to talk about what she can do, it's going to be the one who DIDN'T promise not to breathe a word about her to ANYONE." She giggles to herself as she heads into the kitchen.
Gwen gets a side-glance and little smile, all rolled lips, before the librarian nods almost to herself, as if bulking up her courage in the moment.
"B-B-Both," Rosemarie replies, offering up the challenge to the fashionista. "Th-They show and I k-k-k-keep…losing shirts." That blush shows up again, stronger yet beneath her freckles. "M-Maybe a c-c-cape?" She dares to look over at Gidget.
Eyeing Gwen as she walked off she'd just shake her head. Looking back to Rosie she'd smile. "Well let me think. I can design a shirt to leave space for them to come and go. As for hiding I would….." Then she heard the dreaded C word. "……no." It was flat and to the point. "I don't do capes for that type of use. It's impractical and a hinderance in my eyes. Why give someone something that can just be something to grab on to or get caught on something."
Rosemarie blinks once before dropping her gaze. Indeed, no capes. Now that she considers it, a cape would be impractical with the presence of her wings. She feels silly for asking and fights down the feeling as quickly as she can.
"I w-w-would n-need space, yes," she ventures, nodding again hesitantly. A hand sneaks up to tuck hair behind her ear and to sneakily scratch behind it. "If th-there w-w-was a m-mask, it w-w-would have t-to not c-cover my ears s-s-somehow. G-Gloves…" She considers her own nails, human and well-tended as not to hurt the books she minds at work. "M-Maybe n-no ends on th-them…?"
Smiling she would then tilt her head as she thought. Gidget closer her eyes as she listened before speaking up. "Mask will be easy. We can give you gauntlets instead of regular gloves…." Now she was in her element as she went threw it together in her head. "I'll have to see you when you have your wings so i can plan better….."
Another quick few nods and Rosemarie fiddles with her fork, pushing around what bits of food remain on her dish.
"Th-They d-d-don't show easily, b-b-but if y-y-you n-need t-t-to see them, I c-c-can…t-try. D-Do I n-need an ap-p-p-p-p-p — " Man, this one snags her up good. A sigh and she tries again. "Appointment?"
"Well how about this….." Standing she'd make her way over to where she left her handbag and walked back over with it. Digging around she would finally pull out a business card and a pen. "Make an appointment with my receptionist to just come in when you're not winged up and I can at least get your measurements." Gidge started to scribble down another phone number on the back of her card. "When they do show up, call me and I'll come wherever you are. If I'm not at the office….this is my home number."
Rosemarie watches the fashionista walks there and back and cranes her head slightly to watch the numbers apprear on the back of the business card. She takes it and flips it over to look at the other side.
"Th-Thank y-y-you, Gidget, I'll d-d-do th-this," she replies, slipping the small card into the confines of her courier purse slung over the back of the chair. "I r-r-really appreciate it." The other woman gets a faint yet true smile and eye contact once again. Clearly, the librarian is getting more comfortable with her.