2627/Early Evening Conversation

Early Evening Conversation
Date of Scene:	28 September 2017
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Alfred Pennyworth, Oracle

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Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
     Another day, another room to clean. The joys of being the butler of an absolutely gargantuan mansion such as the Wayne Manor.The work is never done, but at least it's fulfilling.

     At the moment Alfred is working the vacuum through the main lobby of stately Wayne manor. The loud rumble and hum of the vacuum rattles out as he rolls it across the carpeting of the main room. The nice combination of vacuum and rug cleaner makes for the perfect grime fighting utility that a butler could ask for. With one swipe and then another he eliminates the costly stains from the surface of what had been a white rug before being stained with spilled soup from the night prior.

     "My little buttercup has the sweetest smile." Sung in a soft Scottish voice as he rolls the vacuum along without a care in the world. As the vacuum swings round it manages to knock over a rather nice vase, right into the hand of the elderly buttler. A quick catch of expert reflexes saving the day while he doesn't miss a beat in his little diddy.

Oracle has posed:
    Babs is actually getting out. Maybe not -out- out, like in the sun or to a concert, but she's left behind the cavernous darkness of her clocktower for... the cavernous dimness of Wayne manor.

    She's at least conscientious enough to ring the manor's door bell. She's dressed down pretty casually, faded comfortable blue jeans, hair swept back under a black hairband, with a leather bike jacket... which explains the sports motorcycle parked in the driveway.

    And then she opens the door and slips in, humming out, whistling her way through the cavernous halls, using her best estimate on time of day to head towards where she figures Alfred is cleaning. After all, he -is- the most reliable part of the manor.

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
     And cleaning Alfred is. Even as he sets back up the vase onto its proper stand, with a light smile. "Ah, Madam Gordon" A pause to adjust the vase on the spot and dust off the stand to which it belongs. "What a pleasant surprise."

     He turns around on the ball of his heel, flicking off the vacuum cleaner with a light tap of a gloved finger. Across his face is a soft smile at the sound of a wandering Barbara. "Might I ask how you're doing this fine evening?" Spoken calmly and confidently as he makes his way over to a small tray of cookies conviniently left to one side while he cleans to cool.

     He brings over the tray allowing his face to fall back to the more standard resting posture while holding it out for her to grab as many cookies as she might want. Each one is shaped like a little bat, a bit early for Halloween, but never the less appropriate for the household.

Oracle has posed:
    Babs screws her face up thoughtfully, playing up the consideration of the question, eyes twinkling playfully. "Oh! It's... well, not so bad, really! I mean, it's not -raining-, so that's a little miracle, right?" She grins impishly and glances down to the tray, gasping. "Oh! Cookies! You are both -too- good, and absolutely terrible, Mr. Pennyworth!"

    She clicks her tongue and still picks out a few cookies and murmurs dryly, "And I take it none of our friends and family are around causing havoc? I mean, certainly Bruce or Dick wouldn't make any trouble, but I'd expect to hear more shouting if Tim, Jason, or Damian all happened to be here at the same time. And perhaps some explosions."

    She busies herself for a moment, nibbling cookies. "But... I'm alright! I ran into... I'm not even sure what. He was like Clayface but -worse-, but that was a few days ago."

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
     "Oh no, they'd never do anything like that." Alfred offers sin a deadpan voice. The tray is sat downand he undoes a small apron from around his waste to set onto the vacuum. "They're always such angels."

     His feet take him back over towards the center coffee table where he sets down the rest of the tray for later consumption. "I assume he gave you no real trouble however?" Asked with genuine curiosity. "A man the likes of clayface could prove quite troubling in deed," A moments pause. "One is already far more then enough as it stands."

Oracle has posed:
    Babs sighs and shakes her head with a soft snicker. "Oh, no more trouble than Damian gives... patience? The concept of gratitude? It... was difficult. I don't think he's from around here though. He hit up a STAR labs facility and stole one of their..." She shrugs and wiggles her hands in classic jazz hands style, "Prototype energy containment chambers. Which they assure me he can't use, plus I hit it with a few exploding batarangs. Closest match I could find to him was some big bad Metropolis guy, so... I mean, all in all it could have gone -way- worse."

    She settles herself onto one of the couches, tucking her legs up and laughing. "But I'm also working on something else. Networking out to the smaller names around town now, thinking we could... I don't know, set up some sort of communication network so we can help one another without... you know, a ton of giant spotlights on dad's office roof."

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
     "Hardly the easy case I suppose." Alfred states while grabbing hold of a small cup of his own left steaming to one side atop a small coaster. "Unless he was working for someone higher up the totem pole as it were."

     Taking a long sip from the cup he lets out a low contented sigh at the contents. Setting back in a nearby chair after offering a drink to the young Ms.Gordon, he speaks again in that deadpan tone. "and I'll have you know the giant spotlights atop buildings style of crime fighting was all the rage back in my day."

Oracle has posed:
    Babs giggles and grins widely, taking the drink and cupping it in her palms gratefully as she chirps out. "Well, if he was, I'm sure a giant pink... shapeshifting energy-drain monster will show up again. I mean, if nothing else 'pink' is a pretty unique descriptor for them." She hums softly as she sips at the drink. Her eyes narrow.

    "That is hardly a fair comparison!" She huffs out softly and then tilts her head, one eyebrow arched. "I mean, back in your day, the fedora and overcoat look was also able to be pulled off. Clearly the world has regressed since then, and can no longer handle it -or- giant spotlights. Or you have a secret fashion super power."

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
     Alfred raises a brow looking over towards Barbara "Pink was he?" A little bit incredulous on the whole thing. Though the feeling fades as he realizes the absurdity of every day life. With men able to leap tall buildings run faster then lightning, and fire lasers from their eyes.

     "I'd say the commissioner still pulls it off quite well." Is pointed out with a light tap of the head and a tilt. "It's all about how you wear it, not what you wear." He pauses for a moment before reminiscing. "Why I remember once having to dress as a sad clown once upon a time, and I'd say I pulled the look off quite spectacularly."

Oracle has posed:
    Babs snorts softly and murmurs dryly, "Hey, I don't count dad for style purposes. I mean, I'm a good daughter! I'll confirm anything he chooses is good!" She quirks an eyebrow and tilts her head, murmuring softly. "Hmm... well, I'd say your standard flare for attire is far better than 'sad clown', Alfred! But I have faith you could pull it off indeed.

    She sighs out and murmurs. "Mind you, I suppose -my- fashion sense is somewhat off kilter. I mean, Gotham does enjoy its darker colours, and... ballistic fabrics. Function before fashion, alas."

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
     "I'd certainly say so, I'm much more a butler then a clown." Alfred confirms with an air of sophistication about him as he speaks a slight smirk crossing his face. "Though I would remind you fashion comes in cycles. It won't be long before your father is the height of fashion circles." Clearly not quite believing it himself as he sips away at his glass.

     "Trust me, fashion itself is a fools errand." Pointed out rather pointedly. "To chase after it is to chase after the wind in many ways." Spoken from a perspective of one who once was on the cutting edge of fashion himself. "Better to wear what you like consequences be damned." A pause. "Even if it's a bit outside of the norm."

Oracle has posed:
    Babs sips at her drink again, nodding quickly. "Oh, fashion is -entirely- a fools errand, especially in Gotham." She hums out and murmurs softly, "I mean... hey... my fuzzy bunny slippers are -totally- inside the norm. And comfortable." She narrows her eyes to slits, "And my cartoon character socks are -classic-! I have good fashion!" She nods sharply. Sternly.

    And directly into her drink again because it hides her goofy grin. And then she pops back up, "So, we've heard all about my excitement... well, okay, not -all- about it, but I mean, my sparring session with Huntress wasn't really exciting unless you've ever wanted to see me grumbling about an armlock catching me... I mean, the thugs around town these days barely know how to swing a pipe!"

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
     Alfred nods his head quietly looking down towards the glass as Barbara speaks. His attention fully square on her side of the conversation as he sets down the now empty mug.

     "Would you rather every one be a master of Krav Maga?" Asked in that iconic deadpan tone of voice as he raises a brow. "Personally I'd be happy if they just forgot how to throw a punch." He pauses for a moment. "Would make for much less injuries I need to take care of."

Oracle has posed:
    Babs huffs out and mumbles, "Well, no! I mean, I'd be fine if the thugs all decided that talking things out was the better choice." She pauses for a long moment and then mutters, "I just think Huntress should give me a handicap in our next sparring match. Like I get a taser, or she has to do her back taxes first so she's mentally fatigued."

    She flashes another smile and finishes her drink, setting it back down on the tray primly, "But for now, I should really go make sure the computers are up to date. I know Tim and Damian -both- said they did the updates... but I'm fairly sure that's code for 'The computers are three weeks behind on security protocols because we got distracted arguing or playing games'." She stands up smoothly, beginning to make her way further into the manor and then flashing a little grin, chirping out. "Oh, and I'll be quiet on my way out. I'd hate to interrupt your singing again, Alfred." And then she's off. Not with that classic bat disappearance... not when she can be heard whistling the tune Alfred had originally been singing, as she makes her way down the halls.