13207/On the Beat

On the Beat
Date of Scene:	28 October 2022
Location:	Coventry - Miagani Island
Synopsis:	Red Robin provides the Older Brother sacred duty of mentally scarring his younger sister-in-arms-and-by-adoption, and the discussion of updating Phoebe's armor and callsign for her Bat-work comes up. The fact that she's camped outside Caroline Beacon's house means nothing, and Tim of course has the BEST plan.
Cast of Characters:	Phoebe Beacon, Tim Drake

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Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    She had finally been cleared for full patrols, though there was notes that she's really past due for a new scan and suit updates. But things had to be put on hold pending... unusual circumstances.

    So, hooded, in her backpacked Balm suit, Balm had drawn herself up onto an old warehouse, off her usual beat in a row that contains a lot of new construction carriage houses.

    She needed just a moment to catch her breath, building back up to her full stamina, feeling the cool night air on her face.

Tim Drake has posed:
    If Balm checked the schedule before she headed out, she would've seen that Red Robin was technically off of patrol tonight. And yet he's out, his symbol on her HUD minimap a faint grey blip near the edge for a long while. It's only recently that it's started to move closer, approaching the warehouse from the opposite direction.

    He's only out to catch up on a few contacts, mostly with the Watch out here on Miagani. It's certainly expanded from its humble origins in the Narrows, and Tim expects that it will be a Gotham-wide network before the end of next year. Earlier, if he can help it. Even with the Bat Family growing as it has in recent times, they still need the help.

    A thunk of an impact and a quiet hiss are the sounds that pre-empt his arrival over the edge of the roof, pulling himself up over the lip with one hand while the other stows his grapple gun back on his belt. "Evening," he greets as he swings around to take a seat right there on the edge, legs dangling over.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Balm might have checked the schedule. She was eternally amused that the Bats kept a patrol schedule like it was a normal job. She was less amused when she realized that her statistics tests were also marked on the schedule so that she had a short night the night before.

    "Hey, Red." Balm greets Tim with a smile, and she sinks down into an easy sit next to him, one knee up for her to set her chin on, the other dangling down.

    "How's your night going?"

Tim Drake has posed:
    Tim is, of course, a big proponent of schedules. His own is ruthlessly managed via online calendar that syncs with all of his devices. And yes, he definitely schedules things like "hangout time" and "watch the new episode of Interview with a Vampire".

    "Madame Palomares had some information on a recent string of B&Es," he explains as he looks out across the city. Probably while also scanning through some of the digital alerts being generated by Oracle and the Roost. "A friend-of-a-friend kind of thing, but it's more information than we had before. Checked in on a few of the other Watch members too, but aside for one needing some supplies restocked, no news."

    The heels of his boots scrape against the warehouse's facade as he pulls them up, so that he can fold his legs together instead. "How about you?" he asks after a momentary delay of getting himself comfortable. Sometimes a hard task, in the suits.

    They're not exactly made for lounging in.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    No, but they definitely make Balm's life a little easier when the suit takes a bullet instead of her stomach, but she's thankful for the discomfort. It means her nerves are working.

    "Oh, you know. Purse snatching. Convinced some guys to put a TV back that didn't belong to them. Managed to diagnose a piston off on the timing belt on the new car on a wild guess. If you need help with the Watch, let me know. I know your time's precious." she states, and then gives a soft snort, looking down to the street.

    "He doesn't like it when I play around with supernatural stuff on his time. So... mostly quiet night for me." she states, trailing off as a window turns oni n one of the carriage homes.

    The woman inside is walking with a cane, but it doesn't look like she needs it for much. She has auburn hair, cut short. The remains of burn scars that have faded with time and with TecSkin from an experimental WayneTech medical division test that passed with unusually flying colors.

Tim Drake has posed:
    "Grinding out those dailies, huh?" Red Robin asks with a tilt of his head. He's smiling as he says it, though he's looking out towards the city, so Phoebe will only be able to hear it in his voice rather than see it. The reinforced plating at his elbows meets the same material over his knees as he leans his chin against his folded hands. "A night in Gotham without a mugging to stop always makes me a little uncomfortable. Statistically, the city is never *that* quiet."

    He waves away the offer to help with one hand that almost immediately returns to its previous position, the serious task of holding up Tim's head. "It's fine. Getting an outside perspective helps a lot. Definitely worth the time expenditure. Plus sometimes I get baked goods out of it." If he had any tonight, well, he's empty-handed now. But a keen eye, perhaps one trained by as inimitable a detective as Tim Drake, might notice a faint dusting of cocoa powder on the collar of his cape.

    If he notices the woman across the way -- and of course he does -- Tim says nothing about it. Instead he brings attention to an alert that's popped up on both their HUDs about a fight breaking out downtown. "Aren't the Knights playing an away game tonight? I can't believe we've got people rioting about a bad call when they're not even in town." No, Tim still doesn't get sports. He never will. It's willful ignorance at this point.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "It's never that quiet. Just my usual route." Phoebe agrees, "and you know I gotta get my dailies done. Otherwise I'll never level up to the new armor or the mounts." she jokes.

    She knows Tim better than to guess he didn't see the woman. He probably already knows that it's Caroline Beacon who's washing her mug from her last cup of tea of the day to put it up next to all the other plain, dark blue mugs of the quiet carriage house that Phoebe paid off for her.

    Through a shell company, of course.

    "Man, getting baked goods from your contacts? All I get is /contact highs/. And it's not even a good one." she complains, though the mood was kept light with her voice never breaking the good humor she was keeping up.

    She looks over the information.

    "You think they need to be in town for the sportsball guys to need a reason to throw down? Remember when one of the players wore a pair of pink laces and one of the bars had to be closed because they broke off the satillite?"

Tim Drake has posed:
    Two distant Bat-Family icons converge on the downtown location of the brewing riot while Red Robin and Balm watch on from a significant distance. It's someone else's problem to solve, someone else's patrol area to cover, and unless a follow-up call for backup prompts them to head in that direction, Tim is content to remain as he is.

    "Just gotta suffer through a couple of cheek-pinches now and then." He holds up a hand and half-glances over his shoulder. "Above-the-neck ones, I mean. I'm not that desperate for sweets, even if Madame Palomares makes some amazing bon bons." None so awesome as the ones she gave out around the holidays last year, though. "...maybe for the peppermint ones," Tim adds as a semi-joking correction.

    He does a quick internet search on the football game and can only shake his head mutely as he scrolls through the breaking news stories on his HUD.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "I would have never thought of you taking on below-the-belt cheek pinches for the sake of candy, and I promise it's probably going to be on my mind the rest of the night and into my ethics class tomorrow morning the same way The Hate Machine was. The Horror." Balm gives an amused snort, watching as the HUD feeds her updates, and she reaches into her backpack and pulls out an Officially Licenced BatBurger Red Robin water bottle, and gives it a toss over to Tim.

    "So. Both Hood and Batman agreed that it's probably time for a full breakdown and redo of my suit. Since you made it, what're your thoughts?" she asks, and she points to her domino. "Kinda dig the blue optics though. Very Fremen." she comments with a grin.

    Inside the Red Robin water bottle? Delicious home-made fruit smoothie, Green Power Fruit edition. It smells like kiwi and mango.

Tim Drake has posed:
    "Guess we can chalk that one up to official big-brother annoyance duties," Red Robin says as he unfolds himself, moving up into a standing position in one quick motion. Just in time to catch the water bottle. Which he frowns at in confusion.

    There's a pause, and then, "Wait, is this from Batburger?" that likely comes when he notices the copyright information printed on the bottle. That earns laughter, and then he open it to take a slow drink of smoothie. Because smoothies are just not beverages you can drink quickly. Too viscous.

    As he's still processing the flavor, he looks Balm up and down. "Is there kale in this?" he asks. And then, "I think it might be a good idea to consider what updates to your suit would better equip you as a magic-user. Right now your suit's built off of the blueprint of mine, but you need something uniquely yours. And maybe a branding update, too." He waves the bottle. "Gotta think of the merch, you know."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "I have zero cabbage, fancy or no, in this smoothie." Balm gives a wry smile as she leans back, "And yeah the bottle's from Batburger. Do you know how hard it was to hide my *glee* at getting an official Red Robin Water Bottle? Minus now the mental images of the butt-pinches..." she trails off, and then leans back.

    "I've been thinking. I mean, there's literally thousands of different songbirds and little birdies and big birds around. I could name myself after some sorta bat species, as long as it's not too hard to pronounce. Or go Hood's route and maybe do Killjoy or Triage, but I think the latter's kinda too close to 'Balm' and has bad connotations." Phoebe states, and she leans forward, obviously having given a lot of thought to it.

Tim Drake has posed:
    "I could list off half a dozen bird species that would make a good codename. The struggle is just finding one that hasn't been adopted by someone out in the wider world for superheroics," Tim muses over his Official Batburger (tm) Branded Red Robin Water Bottle. Full of delicious smoothie, which he takes another swig of.

    Both of the following suggested names makes Tim's nose wrinkle beneath the flex material of his domino mask, and he even silently mouths "Killjoy?" in disbelief before he shakes his head. "No, no," he says. "Look. your codename is a serious, personal decision... but also I can't in good conscience let you choose something negative. Your codename should be something you feel strongly about, not just... plucked out of thin air." This prompts Tim to make a face, forehead furrowing and the corners of his mouth tilting down. It's not a bad face, moreso a thoughtful face.

    After a brief pause for deliberation, he apparently decides to share whatever thinking made him make that face. "Have you considered, like... seeking out some sort of mystical sign, a good omen or something, as an indication of what you should go with?" he asks.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "What, like use divination to cheat a name out of the aether? Using magic to find my new Bat-Name? Break out the Ouija Board and consult with the spirits from the Great Beyond?" Phoebe asks, turning to look over to Red Robin, her eyebrows rising up.

    "... that's actually a great question, why don't I do that to try and find a new codename?" Balm blinks a moment, blue optics settling on Red for a moment.

    "... I could grab some incense and my pendelum and set it up with some letter cards..."

Tim Drake has posed:
    Tim slams his closed fist into his palm, enthusiastic, and there's a grim smile on his face. The kind of smile that says: we've just come up with a plan. And Tim loves a good plan.

    "You do whatever you need to do to setup. I'll be there to watch over you, just to be safe. And you'll get your answer." Or she won't, and that's when Tim will bust out the white board and the Pros and Cons lists and by the end of the night, Phoebe will have a codename. But he doesn't say any of that, just nods over to her as he puts his hand on his hip.

    Then he fetches the Batburger (tm) Branded Red Robin Water Bottle from where it's been clutched in the crook of his elbow to down another mouthful of smoothie. "Wait," he says, the requisit amount of time afterward wherein he's managed to swallow, "Am I drinking your on-patrol meal right now?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "It's cool; Alfred also packed me two sandwiches. I'm still underweight from when I ... ah... left." Phoebe admits, rubbing the back of her neck and she gives a huff and a bit of a laugh.

    "Otherwise I'd be making you run for a black bean batburger. Since you're *supposed* to be off tonight but went and got candy from old ladies." Phoebe gives a grin as she hops to her feet. "And it'll be simple stuff, not going on a vision quest or anything, I've got Morning Glory extract but... uh..." she trails off "... my stomach doesn't like ingesting that stuff. And I men I have to take it at highly toxic levels anyway. Benefits of All Healing All The Time." she smiles.

    "Reconvene in Robinson Park in about thirty minutes?"

Tim Drake has posed:
    The answer he gets leads Tim to snap the bottle closed and hand it back over. "Well, it's mostly gone now, but it was delicious." He gives a shake of his head but turns, making his way towards the edge of the roof. Clearly he's not surprised at Phoebe offering up part of her much-needed lunch to him. Then he adds a correction, "Following up on leads, you mean. The getting candy from old ladies part is just a side-benefit."

    With a practiced maneuver, Tim unhooks the grapple gun from his belt and aims it. "Sure. Just got pinged by one of the Watch, anyway, so I need to check in on them. Shouldn't take long." His free hand lifts to wave even as the *pop-hiss* of a line being deployed pulls Red Robin up and into the night sky, his cape a dark silhouette against the rising moon and stars.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Darn straight it was delicious. I make a mean smoothie." Balm lilts, and she fastens the water-bottle back into place, Red Robin facing outwards as she watches the real deal swing out over the buildings, and she leans back on one heel.

    "Well, you *are* the smart one." she states quietly, and then she turns, and starts humming as she heads for the Curio -- of course, the tune would be 'Blackbird' by The Beatles as she launches her own grapple, and disappears into the darkness.

    And in the kitchen, in the carriage house, Caroline Beacon paused, and looked out the window, thinking she saw movement on the rooftops.