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Whatever else one can say about New York in the autumn, it's crisp and routinely chilly. Grey skies do not harbour much in the way of warmth. Scarlett would normally be running from classes at Columbia, but the fact the mansion has any greenspace is marvelous in a city where the idea of a lawn earns a disbelieving laugh. The redhead reclines near a pile of leaves gathered up by someone or another. They surely have landscapers here. She happens to carry quite the selection of papers, pamphlets, many of them decorated with immediately recognizable letterheads or logos. The Waldorf Astoria, for example. Radio City Music Hall. Hotels, concert halls. What's she up to?
While Rogue seems to rest in the pike of leaves, Bruce Wayne is walking about wearing a 2-piece pure black suit and tie. Even his undershirt is black. He wears a spectacularly nice watch on his wrist abd he wears a long overcoat to help protect him from the cold.
He sees Rogue, a woman he knows to be allied with the Avengers, thus does he approach, hands in his coat pockets. "Good morning, Scarlett." He says with that constantly straight-faced expression. So serious.
Kicking at the leaves occasionally sends a spiral of foliage into motion, though the majority simply flop back down onto the mass carefully heaped up. Scarlett isn't precisely the sort to cause a mess where unnecessary, and her comforts may be found accompanying the task of studying some manner of thing or another. She inclines her head when someone moves in sight, though the luminous emerald eyes mark Bruce long before her words come forth. The bellwether influence of an Anglo accent brushes her soprano, giving a cultivation not always expected. She could as easily be from Kent as London or Savannah to the uncultivated ear; that's rather the point.
"Good morning, Mr. Wayne." See, manners, they're never going to depart from the flame-tressed bohemienne for all that others of her cohort use all sorts of names for one another. Her braids are adorned by frosty white blossoms, though one leaf clings desperately anyways to a pencil thin plait.
Bruce Wayne casually Analyzes Scarlett, though it's quite difficult to tell. To the normal and untrained eye, he's looking her right in the eyes. He looks at her little leaf mess, then back to Scarlett herself, a small friendly smirk appearing in the corner of his mouth, his roguish charm evident then. A simple nod returns her greeting.
"enjoying the cool weather? Or simply perhaps making ready to deliver pamphlets?" He questions lightlt as he moves to stand next to her. "May I join you?" He asks clear and straightforward.
The analysis is sure to define what most see: the bohemian dream, romantic attire in eye-popping shades of a watercolour swirl, tunic carelessly belted around her waist and those braids more effort than they might be worth. Young, terribly so, twenty-something visionary laughing at the world rather than sobbing. Why ever should she cry?
"I like it a fair bit better than melting in the heat. I understand why those who can go upstate, and those unable to do so suffer much."
Bruce offers a small chuckle at her words. "Fair enough. I personally prefer the cold, but it is what it is." He glances back to Scarlett, humming lightlt when his analysis is complete. Young, but not young enough to avoid the fray. After all, he took Grayson in when he was the ripe old age of nine.
Wayne leans against a nearby tree next to Scarlett, foot just ever so slightly propped against it for excellent balance. Though his attention now goes out to the streets of New York. "So then, miss Scarlett, am I wrong in asking if you are Bohemian? The garb and style of hair says much. I've never been, but I hear it's nice." He says casually, making conversation.
Ne'er mind the actual age of the young woman, sprung like Athena from the unknown. Her trailing fingertips dash along the inclination of her shins, forgetting another of the papers that dares to blow away. Pinning it down with her fingertip is easy enough. "One of the aforementioned," she agrees, nodding. "They're quite commonplace in Greenwich, though anywhere else, perhaps less so." The papers are gathered a little more to her. "More of a philosophical and cultural movement than, say, the greasers. I do wonder, Mr. Wayne, might I pick your thoughts for a moment? I've been pondering how I might throw a major cultural soiree. The sort that attracts the usual movers and shakers in the city."
Behold that lustrous smile. "I reckon in my own right, they wouldn't be interested. After all, whom am I? But were I to wish to pull together something, say, a philanthropic event. Something to promote peace, a gala that allows the captains of politics and social spheres to mingle, how would you suggest I go about doing that? Seeing that, of course, you probably have no end of experience in it."
Bruce nods a few times to Rogue "Ah, I see. Perhaps I can look around and see if I can learn more." He shrugs lightly then, though when he's asked if she can pick his thoughts, he gives a small nod "Pry away, Miss Scarlet." Crossing his arms After to listen to what she has to say.
As Rogue speaks of peace galas and cultural soirees, he nods periodically at her to show her acknowledgment, basic politeness, and a small respect. "Hm. I can't help but be approving of your wishes….in my experience, you could do one of two things: You could do it more subtly, place pamphlets and papers about and spread the word, though at best you'll maybe get one or two of the audience you want, -or- I'll endorse it as a favor. Generally speaking people enjoy festivities, but they are attracted to other big names like moths to a flame."
He shrugs then. "To keep it simple, find a way to get the word out that's quick and easy. To get their attention, say, without my help, give them something they want. Be it drama, a chance to publicly speak, etc. they'll come."
The redhead bohemienne contemplates the factors presented to her, the offer embedded in the wry notes of warning enmeshed throughout Bruce's response. Something she is not entirely ignorant of, nonetheless Scarlett knows better than to give those factors away. She merely offers the suspended cobweb smile to capture few of her thoughts. "I could be subtle, but those sorts of affairs require some degree of publicity or an invitation and the strategy of sending out late word might not net whom I'm after. I thought to wait until the New Year, but frankly, we need something to fill the social calendar and lure the appropriate interest, don't we?"
Fear the ingenuity and energy of youth, wasted carelessly elsewhere. "You'd endorse this for me on the favour of what? No doubt you have the cachet alone to pull out half the diplomatic corps and the finest socialites…." Her voice trails off, and she offers a faint smile, clearly gears turning. "Part of the experience will be for them to be seen, of course. And to see. Peace is a rarity right now. Let's show them the power of unity, no?"
Bruce listens to her words, nodding a few times at the young Bohemian beauty. Though a part of him slightly wished he still had the energy of his youth, he seems approving. "Hmm… I agree wholeheartedly. Though if you don't mind me asking, who is it that you're after?" He asks curiously..his eyes looking into hers, for even a moment she was quite specific.
"you aren't wrong. I could, though as for what I would want in return is nothing. Simply am offered hand." He shrugs lightly.
"The Hayden Planetarium. We could literally call it a star party." Scarlett's spinning thoughts twirl around. "The Geminid Meteor Shower will be at its peak and we've got the launch of Gemini 2 coming up. That would be tactful, a reminder how the cosmos sees us as a single matter." Her hands clasp together. "Oh yes, I think this is deal. We could blend the theme of stars coming to see the stars. Would that not fit very well? I'm after just that set, a cross-section for the city's powerful and wealthy, the socially influential and those drawn to the power. Call it a case of assuring the planet stays well and safe, Mr. Wayne. I think there might be someone meddling with our politics, and I need to take a quick look to make sure that isn't the case."
Bruce chuckled faintly at her excitement, though he's taking this quite seriously. "Stars and the like sounds like a good theme. With new exploration of the stars, it?s sure to attract attention."
he does smile softly when she calls it a deal. "As agreed. I'll contact the rich and powerful and make an appearance to prove it's legitimacy. It'll be good to work with you, miss Scarlett." He extends his hand for a handshake to seal the deal.
"Maybe the World's Fair. It's temporary, exclusive. Let me think about how to approach this. I will make sure to drop you a line once I have some specifics to figure out." So many specifics to be sure. Her thoughts twirl around and spin like ribbons of radiance, and she smiles. "Thank you, more than you know."
Bruce nods a few times, his hands returning to his pockets. "My pleasure, miss Scarlett. You're efforts won't be in vain." He smiles then "I'll keep an ear open for you then. If you wish to discuss it further, I would speak with you at Wayne Manor, or ask for me at Wayne Tower." He gives a nod before turning on his heel.
"It was good speaking to you. Unfortunately, I have an appointment I should go to if I want to be fashionably late." A small smile then.