13459/Bridging the Emotions

Bridging the Emotions
Date of Scene:	28 November 2022
Location:	Whitecross Bridge, Gotham CIty
Synopsis:	After a texted apology, Jason shows up in his civvies to talk to Phoebe about trauma. Because really that is the best person to talk about trauma with, being the epitome of mental health. Neither end up jumping from the bridge, so outcome is probably positive.
Cast of Characters:	Phoebe Beacon, Jason Todd

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Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    The WHitecross Bridge runs alongside Gotham, carrying the train, carrying traffic, and happens to be a place where a lone figure clad in grays and blues can swing near the base of the bridge, feeling the vibration of the traffic above and the white noise it provides.

    Balm swings herself out over the water, her toes dipping one boot into the brackish sea-and-river mixing before she comes back up, and hides in the supports of the bridge. She puts her back to Bristol, with its riches and quiet woods and looks back towards the loud, light-pollution spewing city of Gotham. She pulls back her hood, her hair carefully braided tonight to keep it neat and eliminate the curse of Hood Hair, and she withdraws from the Balm Backpack -- she hasn't chosen to wear a cape, and has eschewed a belt for the moment for this reason.

    A Peanutbutter and Black Raspberry Jam sandwich, on wheat, sliced diagonally. Can't be better than that.

    And as she leans back on a break from her patrol, she brings up the texting app on her domino. She selects a number marked RHJT, and voice-to-texts:

    "Hey. I am sorry for losing my cool. I was struggling with some pretty bad imposter syndrome. Not really an excuse. But I'm sorry." she speaks outloud, and sends the text out.

Jason Todd has posed:
There is a few minute delay after she gets confirmation that the text was delivered and read.

>> It's fine. It's not my fight. I'm sorry for trying to push things on you. I hope you feel better.

While not a brusque few-word brush off it can probably be seen between the lines that Jason isn't happy with how things went, but he's not looking to stir up an argument. It really isn't any of his business beyond what he'd already said, which was probably too much to start with.

Jason sets his phone down and goes back to wrenching on his car, the melodic tones of heavy metal reverberating through the Red Cave.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    >>You're trying to help and I recognize that. I'm wrestling with being jealous of someone is all. Be safe out there.

    Phoebe tilts her head back, resting it against the cold metal. She can feel the chill rising up through her calves, and she opens her eyes, looking up through the HUD at the underside of the bridge. She takes out an earbud, and selects some music as she takes a bite out of the PB&J, dripping a little jam on her glove.

    She is not above licking it off her palm. Alfred might be scandalized.

Jason Todd has posed:
There are some things Alfred would surely forgive. Like not wanting to waste good home-made black raspberry jame.

A few minutes later, the chirp of a reply is heard.

>>Jealous? Everyone should be jealous of you. There are a lot of people who would gladly trade places with you in a heartbeat. You do realize that, right?

Jason frows as he tosses the phone down this time, frustrated again. He grabs a rag and wipes his hands off before starting to put away the tools he'd been using.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
>>With Phoebe Wayne who gets to ride in awesome cars and has someone show up to terrify bad dates, sure. She's kind of awkward but great.

    Phoebe gives a wry smile, looking out over the city as she considers.

>>Her bodyguard was freaking terrifying though. Good thing Hudson was wearing brown pants.

Jason Todd has posed:
>>There are a lot of people who would give anything for even one night like that.

THere is a pause.

>>What's going on Pheeb. Where are you. I can come talk. If you want. Or not.

Closing his toolbox, he walks over and begins to wash the last of the grim off his hands. It's probably good that his phone is set to vibrate. He hasn't turned the music down yet. Hearing the text chirp would be difficult for anyone other without Super- at the start of their name.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
>>I know. They don't know what it costs us though.

There is a brief pause.

>>Under the Whitecross bridge, just taking a lunch break, listening to some music. I'm okay. You're a busy guy.

Jason Todd has posed:
>>I'm never too busy for you. I can be there in ten.

Except it's at least double that from where his garage is.

Jason tucks his phone in his pocket and walks back to his car. The engine rumbles to life and in moments he is on the street and speeding across the city. It really is helpful that everyone's vehicles have been linked into the city's traffic controls to ensure green lights. It may not be perfect but it certainly helps.

Okay ten minutes was overly optimistic but Phoebe will be able to see Jason's car pull up under the bridge on the shoreline and the lights turn off. Not long after, the sound of a grapple is heard as he makes his way out under the girders of the bridge as well.

Arriving in civvies, Jason drops down onto the beam beside Phoebe. "See? Told you. Fifteen minutes."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
>>You really don't need to.

But Phoebe waits for him, even after the ten minute mark turns to thirteen, and she's long since been done with her sandwich. She waits for him to come up, expecting him to at least have a domino to help disguise him, but no.

Jason Todd grapples in civvies. The horror.

The optic lenses on her domino show that she's blinked at his appearance.

"Right on time." she replies, her voice distorted from the vocoder, but her hood still down as she looks out over the city again from her perch.

"You didn't have to come out, though. I'm fine."

Jason Todd has posed:
Jason Todd is pretty sure no one is going to see them under the bridge. If they do, Bad Boy Jason Todd is talking to a vigilante. It's not like that's going to ruin his reputation or something. He came immediately because he felt she needed him to. Identity be damned.

Truth his, his civvies aren't all that different than what he wears as the Hood anyway. Just a bit more armored. Probably.

"No, I probably didn't. But I wanted to. And you sound like you could use company at least, if not someone to talk to." His voice is quiet, not judging. He looks out over the city, ignoring the bite of the wind this high over the harbor.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
"You're going to freeze." Balm points out, and then she breathes out in a huff, and reaches up to take off her domino. The distortion ends, and she tucks it away in the slot in her hood, and then she brings her hands together, giving a murmur, and a golden-red ball floats between them, radiating warmth. At least enough to take the bite off the wind.

"... I probably should look into getting someone to talk to on a professional level. Unfortunately every psychologist with experience with superheroes is an asshole, and pretty sure talking to a regular psych would end up with me wearing a self-hug jacket."

Jason Todd has posed:
Jason Todd glances over. "I'm fine. I have my Bat-Thermals on underneath" he jokes, a smile tugging at his lips. He doesn't object to the little magical heater-ball she conjures though.

"Sure. We probably all could. Me as much or more than the rest of you. Life is fucked up, Phoebe. Not even professionals can put back together the levels of broken our respectve HUmpties are. You just.. put one foot in front of the other and keep going. Bruce has taught us that." Jason sees it even if he only grudgingly admits it.

"I can't fix things. I'm just good at breaking them. But I can listen. If you want to talk."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
Phoebe looks over at Jason. She looks tired, in spite of the fact her healing power doesn't like to show the obvious signs of fatigue, but she's tired.

"I used to see a psych. Before all--" she motions to the armor she's wearing, and she shrugs her shoulders.

"We dress up in armored Halloween costumes, assume animal names or colorful monikers and fight crime and in some cases the supernatural. We're obviously the epitome of mental health." she gives a small smile as she leans back, and closes her eyes.

"Don't you get tired of hearing me talk? I get tired of my own voice. But I've got this running monologue in my head with constant critiques. Every hand gesture that isn't just right. Triple checking wards to make sure all my lines are attached. Making sure my hair is evenly distributed. Making sure my kata in training are at the right amount of muscle strength."

She looks back over to the city then, looking at the lights and seeing reds and whites flashing -- an ambulance wails as it takes a hard right onto the bridge, heading towards Bristol.

Jason Todd has posed:
Jason Todd listens to her. "No one said we were stable. But to do what we do. Against the freaks out there? It takes people like us that are a little.. off. No truly sane person would do this. Doesn't mean it shouldn't be done."

"No, Pheeb. I don't get tired of your voice. Now that you have it back, I like hearing you talk" he admits. "The training? Yes. That is always worth critiquing. I do it. Tim. Dick. Bruce taught us to always fight to be better." He shrugs, "I.. can't make you believe it. You have to use that same fight to get better in training, to believe that you. As you are. Are enough. That no one expects you to be perfect. That we all love you for who you are right now. No strings. No conditions." And if anyone dares to disagree with him, he'll probably punch them in the mouth without a moment's consideration.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
Phoebe draws her legs up, and even in the armor that hugs her form, she's able to ball. The other armor going on.

"I don't want that, though. THere's got to be conditions. There's got to be terms. Neat little boxes to categorize and tick off, because that's safe. Because there has to be some sort of score where yes, I am being Good Sister today, and Good Student, so I can get that little tick mark on some mental report card. To justify that Fate doesn't take it from me again. I gotg good grades on being a vigilante and team work and not setting someone on fire because they're perfect and I'm just this broken thing that has to be babysat."

Jason Todd has posed:
Jason Todd frowns. He opens his mouth then closes it, his jaw working as he looks out over the city. The frustration is radiating off of him like a neon sign. He's struggling with all of this. He fixes things. Or breaks them as he says. But this?

"... I don't know what to say that I haven't. I can't make you believe me. Or listen." He runs his hands through his hair in aggitation and just stares out at the harbor as it reflects the city lights.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
". . . I do believe, and I do listen. And sometimes it gets through. I *know* I'm loved. I *know* that if anything were to happen to me, my team, my family are behind me and looking for me. Bart, Con, Tim, Steph, Dick... even Bruce. The logic is there, it is. It's what gets me through the nightmares when I wake up thinking I'm back in The Silo in Montana." Phoebe sounds a little agitated.

"I am fully aware. And it is so, so frustrating when I point it out and my brain goes 'but what if it's not real, or you mess it up'." Phoebe gives a slight smile back to Jason.

"Because sometimes our demons aren't literal."

Jason Todd has posed:
Jason Todd looks over. "You're not alone." His voice is quiet but strained. "I have nightmares too." He looks back to the harbor. "I don't tell anyone. It wouldn't change anything if I did. I remember it. Even after going insane because of the Pit. It's still in there. Everything. And it comes back regularly."

He falls quiet. "Anxiety is real. It's a thing. But you can't let it win. You have to fight past it. Or find someone to support you till you can. Because whether or not you're playing the "what if..." game, it will never get better if you don't try to make it better."

"You have to force it into a little box in the back of your mind and refuse to let it out."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
Phoebe's turn to be quiet, she leans her cheek on her knee, and she wrinkles her nose a moment, and she gives a small nod of her head. "I know. It doesn't compare. I'm just whining." she states, picking a fleck of paint off the bridge before she tosses it towards the shore, a good eighty feet down. It doesn't make it, the wind takes it and flies it further up the river.

"Someday it'll be better. Just not today. Tonight. Ugh. And I have a lit test in the morning."

Jason Todd has posed:
Jason Todd snaps, finally. But not at her. Not directly. "It's not a game! I'm not trying to one up you!" He looks over, voice softening. "I... get angry. I'm sorry. It's a struggle. But I'm not angry with you. For anything." He reaches over to bump her shoulder. "I'm here. Always. I can't fix everything. I can't begin to know how to try. But I'm here. Okay? You're not alone. Ever. You can talk to me, call me, visit. Any time. No questions asked, no exceptions."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
Phoeb pauses, her eyes drawing closed, her arms tightening as Jason's voice raises. The little fireball tightens up, becoming brighter, her fists drawing tighter to her sides as she braces for a dressing down... but Jason apologizes. He bumps her shoulder, and his voice softens.

    And Phoebe shifts her weight. And then she moves closer to Jason, and she leans against his side, her hands bringing the little ball of light and warmth down to illuminate the two of them looking out over the city from the bridge.

She doesn't say anything, but her head leans on his shoulder, pressing her weight against him.