1804/The Oracle and The Demon
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| The Oracle and The Demon | |
|---|---|
| Date of Scene: | 04 August 2017 |
| Location: | Gotham City |
| Synopsis: | Summary needed |
| Cast of Characters: | Robin (Wayne), Oracle
|
- Robin (Wayne) has posed:
As night had started to fall, the newest Robin had stirred. As soon as the sun was just peeking over the horizon, he made his way down to the Batcave. Sliding down the pole from Bruce's library he landed deftly on his feet.
He presumed he was the only one down here, but Alfred had left him a small pot of tea close by. He smirked just a little as he served himself a cup, holding the saucer in his hand and stirring before taking his first sip. It was a small comfort he felt, but only in secret did he smile and sighed just a bit.
- Oracle has posed:
Babs announces herself in... well, maybe not the classiest of ways. But there's a loud clang from further down in the cave, back near the garage complex, and then a shouted noise of primal, frustrated rage. She comes stomping up the stairs, wiping her hands off with a rag and then... stops dead still and stares at Damian.
"Oh... uh... hey. Carburators are terrible terrible things." She clears her throat and quirks an eyebrow, lips curving in a little grin. "So... does anyone -else- know you have a mode other than 'grumpy gus'? Or have I discovered your -terrible- secret?" She wiggles her fingers tauntingly... she really -does- treat Damian like a kid brother. Which is to say, merciless teasing.
- Robin (Wayne) has posed:
Well so much for a zen moment. As Damian heard a clank echo through the cave, he clangs his cup down on the saucer. His eyes widen as he hears stomps from the stairs, not so much panic more so than shock as his emerald eyes meet Barbara's.
Of course, one cannot control capillary reflexes as his slightly tanned cheeks gave way to show an almost sanguine blush. "I don't know what you're talking about." He offers, a definite defense mechanism. "Why does the Batmobile use a carburetor anyway? Does it need a hand crank to start too?" Robin was definitely attempting to cover up the moment of 'vulnerability'. Another casual sip from the warm cup has his blush on the run.
- Oracle has posed:
Babs sighs and rolls her eyes dramatically, "Oh, like I'd work on -that-. Bruce would never leave me alone, hell he complains if you adjust the -passenger- seat and he doesn't even use it!" She clears her throat, eyes narrowing as she murmurs out, "So no one needs to hear about this, right?"
Barbara steps in closer, her own green eyes narrowing as she murmurs out. "I mean, -either- of us this, right? No one needs to know you can in fact be -polite- and quiet and an actual human boy, and no one needs to know I need a refresher in motorcycle maintenance."
- Robin (Wayne) has posed:
Damian starts to laugh, almost thinking that he will keep this little morsel as leverage. Though he takes another sip of his tea, giving Barbara a side eye once she mentions his quiet reflective moment.
A vein in his forehead starts to bulge with pressure. "Fine! If you want it that way, I acquiesce to your demand." He says, sighing deeply. Robin sets his cup down, making his way to the suiting room, looking over the suit he had been given less than a week ago.
- Oracle has posed:
Barbara can't help but muffle a little giggle. "Oh, calm down. I'm just joking. I wouldn't ever tell anyone your secrets. I mean, that's what trust is about, right?" She follows along, whistling cheerily, and then perking her eyebrows up at the suit, studying it from different angles. "Well, look whose first super hero suit is so cool! Mine was a Halloween costume... and it was -homemade-."
She sighs and shakes her head with a low mutter, "I mean, I have -no- clue how anyone took it seriously. Then again, I mean, how do villains take any super outfits seriously? It makes you think."
- Robin (Wayne) has posed:
"If by trust you mean the verbal equivalent of Mutually Assured Destruction." The former assassin has what the youth of 2016 would call: 'no chill'. Damian turns around to face Barbara, giving a deadpan expression. "Batman's suit is an instrument of fear..." He quips, looking to the tall, grey and black suit on the other side, taking one of Bruce's boots in his hand. He moves back to his, picking up his own green and red boot, planting the soles of the footwear together, his foot was shorter obviously. But the boy still managed a disapproving tsk of his tongue against his teeth. "Yellow, red, green, and black...will soon carry that same quality." Damian most assuredly was a dangerous fighter, despite the youthful fatigues of the Robin uniform that he was admittedly part proud to wear.
- Oracle has posed:
Babs groans inwardly. God, this kid is like... -this kid-. She runs a hand through her red hair and murmurs dryly, "Yes, well, he's beaten up enough criminals to cause that fear. I -still- think yellow, red, and green are going to be a -bit- harder to sell as 'The Terror in the Night'. And, I mean, it's not -all- about striking fear into the hearts of criminals. You... uhh... you know you have to help -people-, right? Like reassure them? The victims you save from peril and danger?" She crosses her arms sternly. "There's a softer side to this whole thing than breaking bones and doing that... growly Wayne voice. And really, even Batman doesn't strike -that- much terror into some of the people out there. Ivy, Freeze, the -really- crazy ones like Joker and Harley and Mad Hatter... I mean, you can't scare the crazy out of someone Damian." She sighs softly... she has a feeling Damian's a little more -serious- than scaring the rogues. But hey, she has to consider his upbringing... if he can relax at -all- that's probably a good sign.
- Robin (Wayne) has posed:
Damian gives a grimace at Barbara's statement, not shirking off her opinion, more of inward thought. Yes, he had the capacity to help people, just not as many chances to prove it, yet. But this was what the ultimate goal was for Damian himself. The boy turned around, showing his back to Barbara while he put the Bat-boot back in the Bat-locker. "What...exactly about my voice?" Rings through the locker room, as if Batman were standing right behind Barbara.
- Oracle has posed:
Babs snorts out and crosses her arms... after a little sweep of one foot a little behind her. "That's pretty good! Okay, -really- good... but like, there wasn't the -looming presence- behind me like there normally is." She can't help but try and show off herself... although there's a couple faint sounds as she tries to slip away in that classic 'disappear when your back is turned move'. It's totally the fault of her new sneakers not being worked in. Faint rubber squeak gives it away, as she's back at the tea, whistling casually. "So... how are things going, Damian? Alfred keeping a close eye on you?"
- Robin (Wayne) has posed:
Damian eventually moves out of the equipment room, closing the display on his Robin suit for now, carrying a set of three birdarangs. "I found that a fr...acquaintance of mine was at Arkham the night Joker, Harley and Ivy broke out. He was the one that got a baseball bat to the ribs on the rooftop." Despite changing the word, Georgie was indeed his friend. "Almost everyone keeps a close eye on me." He quips, a tinge of resentment in that statement. He mistakes caring for supervision, but he'd been used to having nobody caring much for him before. He throws one of the birdarangs, practicing his returns, a close eye watches the silver and red weapon fly through the air, ready to grasp it back at the right moment.
- Oracle has posed:
Babs lets out a low noise of understanding, "Yeah, it's... rough when you find out something like that. It's probably the hardest part of all this. It seems... easier to worry about yourself getting hurt, rather than your friends and loved ones." She sighs out and watches Damian's practice, eyes darting around. "...Bet you can't ricochet that downstairs and back up..." She hums innocently... what? There's -no- way this is going to end up with them scratching the paint on the Bat-plane and having to try and buff it out. "And... I mean, it gets harder the closer you are to people who do our thing on a regular basis, when you never know what's going to happen when they go out tonight."
- Robin (Wayne) has posed:
The birdarang almost sang through the air before Damian snatched it back, in an almost predatory fashion. "I never had a need for shuriken to return to me...but I accept your challenge." A close eye measures the angle of attack, then a measured throw. He absorbs Oracle's words. "That explains the letter." A sharp clink against the rock floor, and the birdarang ricochet's off, luckily missing both the batplane and the batboat, flying down until eventually the metal sings it's final note at the bottom. Another disapproving tsk from the new Boy Wonder. "F@#*!"
- Oracle has posed:
Babs just -huffs- and glowers, "Oh, you are -not- cursing because you only did like... better than anyone but Bruce could. For one thing, you're not even old enough to drive!" She growls and mutters out, "I could barely play -darts- well at your age, oh no, you're only like... mostly a super assassin." She sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose, rubbing it gently. "Damian, you can't... go a hundred percent all the time. You need an outlet. The tea's a good start, but... it builds You need more over time or you... burn out. It gets too much and you wind up... locking yourself in your apartment mashing together computer components for a few weeks before you even realize your voicemail's exploding."
- Robin (Wayne) has posed:
"I learned to drive at 10." He says, holding the final two birdarangs in between his fingers, returning to the tea, and to Oracle.
He rubs at his temple some before filling his cup again. In his hand he exchanges the throwing weapons for a folded piece of sketch paper. Damian takes a sip before he slides the paper to Barbara. "Like this?" Inside it contains a sketch from an old picture of Barbara in her Batgirl costume, swinging through the air. The quality was not master level, but leaps and bounds beyond a fifteen year old would normally draw.
- Oracle has posed:
Babs stares at that drawing. Her cheeks flush a little, from that ivory white to a clear and vivid pink. She raises an eyebrow and murmurs out softly. "I... -jeeze-. If I'd been able to draw like this at your age, I wouldn't have taken all those English and Computer Science classes." She can't hold back a wistful little grin as she continues to admire the drawing. "...So how many tries did this take? And... wait, did you just -make- this up?" She peers over the rim of her glasses at Damian levelly. "Okay, you -really- need... I don't know... but like... I'm going to think about it. I'd say a hobby like drawing, but apparently you take -that- super serious too. But I will find it, Damian Wayne. I will -find- your mischief."
- Robin (Wayne) has posed:
Damian smirks a little. "It's partly from a newspaper clipping, seems Gotham had a pretty good photographer. The photo is dark, but you can see most of the outline. I just filled in the rest." He doesn't say he did that in one go, but who needed to know that part? Damian sipped at his tea, keeping the conversation light, but it was a start. He'd continue on until Bruce showed up to the cave for tonight's patrol.