13672/Rescue in the (Freezing) Rain

Rescue in the (Freezing) Rain
Date of Scene:	28 December 2022
Location:	Streets of Gotham City
Synopsis:	When Phoebe forgets to check the weather forecast, Robbie Reyes
Cast of Characters:	Phoebe Beacon, Robbie Reyes

---

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Gotham City is not known for it's Good Weather. And Phoebe is somewhat notorious for not checking the forecast when she goes out on personal business. So Robbie would get a text from Phoebe's number, with a picture of Phoebe down in an aqueduct, wearing a black-and-orange motorcycle jacket with her helmet under her arm, followed by a lot of ugly weather.

>Hey. Best driver I know. Will trade hot meal for pickup if you're not busy. Don't want to concern the boss.< -- followed by a ping of a location tracker, set to Google Maps. The location tracker is incidentally one of those super-deformed/chibi pictures, of Phoebe, wearing a Sailor Moon costume.

    Meanwhile, Phoebe cloaks her bike, locks the storage unit hidden in the sewer pipe, and begins to make her way up the sides of the concrete inclines.

    She falls at least once on her butt.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
Phoebe's phone buzzes with an incoming text message as she's in the midst of her second attempt to scramble up one side of the aqueduct. Then buzzes again a moment later. Aaaaand again, about 30 seconds after that.

>You trying to bribe me with food? It's working.
>What the fuck am I looking at here, is that Sailor Moon? What are you doing in an aqueduct?
>Fine, I'll come bail you out.

Clearly this doesn't warrant an emergency response, in his mind: it takes him about twenty minutes to show up. But there's no mistaking the wash of LED headlights and distinctive growl of the Charger's engine as the beast is throttled back to a lazy prowl along the concrete basin.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    >Yes. I ate all the Polvorones de Canela though.
    >That's a tag marker. Mine's custom. Yes it's me as Sailor Moon. Don't judge. Storage unit.
    >Yay!

    It wasn't an emergency. She was sure if it had been an emergency it wouldn't have been texts. Phoebe had taken cover under a bridge, and although she was wearing a good, lined motorcycle shell, it was cold, and in spite of her healing powers she was shivvering a little bit as the Charger's growl rattles through her bones. She gives a little smile (in spite of her teeth chattering) as she makes her approach.

    "My hero." she jokes.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
It takes a minute to spot her, even with the reflective gear she's wearing. Robbie brings the car to a halt and lets the big engine idle with that disconsolate rumble while he leans over to unlock and swing open the passenger side door.

"Ain't nobody's hero. Get in, you're letting all the heat out." A mixture of snow and sleet has started to fall, illuminated like sharp silvery knives by his headlights; it's cold enough for the force of it hitting bare skin to actually *hurt*. "Where's your bike? You didn't drop it, did you?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Drop my bike? Who do you think I am?" Phoebe asks, giving Robbie a face with her nose wrinkling as she gets into the car, closing the door behind her and reaching to clip herself in. Her hair is in rows today, better for the helmet, which she tucks at her feet, and then brings her hands up to blow feeling back into her fingers.

    "It's in a storage unit. It's safe. I can pick it up when the weather clears." she explains, and makes an uncomfortable wiggle.

    "Ugh. Wet jeans."

    "... thanks, Robbie, I appreciate the bailout. I got called out for a magic thing." she explains quietly, her hands pointedly brushing off some white fibers off her, balling them in her hand and sticking them in her pocket to not mess up the car.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
The retort meets with a brief flash of amusement on the young man's face. "I ain't too proud to admit I've done it once or twice." Since when does he ride a bike? "And I like your hair like that." A slightly awkward pause follows, and then he reaches over to crank up the heat when he spots her blowing onto her fingers.

Once Phoebe's safely buckled in, he hits the gas; and the Charger responds with a toothsome roar, and enough torque to pin them to their seats. "What do you mean, called out for a magic thing?" It's asked casually as they take off like a bullet in the night, the sleet hammering the windows blurring with the fast-moving landscape.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe hadn't been looking forward when the Charger is given gas, and roars out. She actually, audiably gives a squeak of surprise, holding onto the seatbelt with one hand and the chair side with the other as the car shows its teeth to chew up the road!

    "Thank you?!" she replies in a squeak regarding her hair "Easier to stop hood hair when there's not a satin cap. I forgot to grab a new one." she breathes out as inertia eases off and she stops sinking into the seatback!

    "Friend of mine adopts cats. Pretty much every cat he can find. Kinda in the same line of business. He picked up one that had a pure black eye. Turns out this one was on the block for ah... ritual use." Phoebe looks over to Robbie, and then back out to the road.

    "It had some dark magic clinging to it, so I got rid of the magic and now Snowball's gonna have a happy, healthy and hopefully long life enjoying retirement with like, twenty-seven other cats."

Robbie Reyes has posed:
He's serious about her hair. She gets another quick, slanted look; and another twitch of his mouth in what might be a smile. Then he's focused again on his driving: right hand on the shifter, left on the wheel once again.

"Ritual use," he murmurs, tires only briefly skidding and then regaining traction as he feathers the gas into a hard turn. Nice thing about the rear wheel drive? Those oversize back wheels only need to provide raw thrust, while the front wheels handle cornering. "What, like for witches or something? And here I figured I was your only demon friend." He's not serious about that; the dimples give him away.

The aqueduct's like a maze, but one he seems to know well. And is he going to argue with a chance to really let loose with his driving? Absolutely not.

"So you can heal people, and get rid of curses. Been meanin' to ask you what else you can do."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Animal sacrifice, and ah... body painting. I'm still getting afterimages when I blink--" Phoebe pauses as they hit the hard turn, and lets her eyes go wide, feeling her body turn and presss against the seat, holding onto her seatbelt still, but letting go of the seat, trusting Robbie on his knowledge and his car.

    "Ah... a bunch of things. Water and fire evocations. Clean clothing with a cantrip. Exorcisms, though I've gotta complication with the Catholic version--" she breathes out, watching the rain hit against the windshield in its crackling, almost like a cold fire.

    "... you've seen me throw shields up. Circles and wards, make magical tattoos -- and *you* aren't a demon!" she protests, and she gives a side eye to the driver.

    "... and I think we both know you're more than a friend." she adds quietly.

    And then she turns back to the maze of the aqueduct.

    "What about you? More than just the fire and car? I've got a little info -- stuff I've noticed but it's nicer to hear someone talk about themselves."

Robbie Reyes has posed:
He's not going to ask about the body painting. Or the animal sacrifice, for that matter. His brows furrow slightly though when she mentions those.

He does know his car very, very well; and it isn't simply a matter of experience. The vehicle's like a literal extension of his body. The tires scramble up a short gravel incline; and then they're out, and he throttles back on his speed as he veers onto asphalt street.

"Knew about the wards and shields. What kinda complication?" He returns her side eye with an amused look. "Sure I'm not, but close enough. Seein' as we're a package deal."

No answer yet to 'what about you?'.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Eeeeeeeeee...." Phoebe whispers, feeling the gravel kick and get sent backwards as they come up and out of the concrete basin and onto the actual street, and she's a little bit breathless as they veer off, more speed on the road.

    "They're generally dedicated to Saint Michael the Archangel." Phoebe looks back over to his amused expression.

    "And I kinda punched him in the face. Complicates things when you're trying to use a Catholic rite."

    "It's like getting a free pair of underwear with the cute socks I guess." she states, feining exhasperation.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
"Michael? Yeah." He chuffs softly in amusement. "Guess that'd be a problem."

Another glance is sent across to the girl, and this time his smile is straight up devilish. It's clear that *this* is what gives him life: aggression converted into raw speed. Toying with the idea of *too much*, and the wreck that could take his life were Eli not to step in and prevent it. "You doin' okay?" he asks, seriously. Then thinks on what Phoebe's said for a moment. "Wait, does that make me the underwear or the socks?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe looks at that devilish smile, the way his cheeks dimple, the excitement of this extension of him rumbling through the streets, and she feels her heart beat that much faster, and she almost misses his question.

    "I..." she begins, and her ears darken a little, her cheeks getting warm and then --

    "That makes you the... the..." she begins, and then she gives another exhasperated sound "That makes it a horrible metaphor, socks and underpants, ugh, horrible, terrible!"

Robbie Reyes has posed:
"You're the one who started it," Robbie argues, settling back in his seat as they weave through the city streets at a somewhat more sedate pace. He happens to glance over just in time to spot her face reddening, and barks a laugh. It's an unusual sound coming from him, Mr. Serious All The Time.

"Anyway, you asked what else I can do. Portals, you already seen. Furthest I've tried to make one to is Hell, and even that.." He makes an unhappy little moue with his mouth. "Usually the less familiar I am with where I'm goin', the less predictable it is. What else.. uh. I already told you I got this healing factor, like Gabby and--" He cuts himself off there, then continues a moment later. "Can't die easy, even if I wanted to. Broke my spine in three places and crushed my skull once fallin' off a rooftop, took a few days before I was right as rain." He looks over to Phoebe again, then away.

"The Rider moves *fast*, too. Fucks me up pretty bad when he does it. He can throw around buses, too. Look, if you ever need to put me down.. just do it before he takes over, yeah?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe gives a nod. "Stands to reason, I find that my portals are easier to places that I have a strong emotional attachment to. The Curio is the easiest. I can still portal to a park in Hell's Kitchen pretty easily, but the further the distance and the more stuff I carry, the harder it is..." she recounts quietly.

    "Yeah, Gabby and her sisters have a ridiculous healing factor. I sparred against them sometimes, very interesting when a bunch of people who all heal get together with the one person who can't." she purses her lips a moment, and she gives a soft nod, and she looks down at her hands.

    "Yeah. I found out that my healing factor mitigates drugs and harmful chemicals coming into my body when I was fourteen, fifteen. Found out why the sleep pills didn't do shit though." she states, resting her elbow on the door as she looks over to Robbie.

    "Robbie... if there's ever a time there's a 'put down'... it would be because you weren't there anymore."

Robbie Reyes has posed:
The road noise becomes a low, steady drone now that the supercharger and its distinctive whine are no longer being employed. "I remember that," he remarks, fingertapping against the steering wheel as he thinks. "You told me you got a weight limit for them." He, clearly, does not.

"Mitigates? Whatcha mean, you can't get high or wasted or whatever? How d'you feel about that?" Becoming what they are has meant losing a hell of a lot of what they *were*, after all. And for all Robbie's not technically the demon -- as Phoebe pointed out -- he's also not.. entirely human any longer.

"Eli.. lets me drink." He hesitates, keeping his eyes on the windshield and the road in front of them. "Get high. Even these." He shows her his right hand and arm before resting his fingers against the gearshift again.

"But I don't think me and him work the way you think. It ain't two people in one body. He's a part of me." The freezing rain's making navigating this neighbourhood challenging, but after one wrong turn, they seem to be nearing Phoebe's place.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Can't drink, can't get high, can't take medications to ease pain, can't be knocked out for surgery. When The Homestead had me under it took a Lot of Drugs; they had to balance overwhelming my healing powers with not killing me. I don't think it would work now, though." she states. "I mean, you can't miss what you never experienced I guess?" she ventures, and then she looks to Robbie's arm, and there's a visible drop for her, her heart into her stomach.

    "... so it's like the Shard."

Robbie Reyes has posed:
The Charger finally rumbles to a halt in front of the Curio, a location that's become pretty familiar these past few weeks. Months? Robbie leaves the engine to idle for a moment before switching off the ignition and shifting in his seat to watch the girl still zipped into her motorcycle gear.

"Sounds like a pretty dull life." Trust Robbie not to sugar coat anything. "But you feel pain, right? Like I do?" No matterr how fast his body rebuilds itself, it's a fresh torture every time he loses the battle to the demon and winds up dealing third degree burns to the entirety of his body.

"And what's the Shard?" he asks after a moment, uncertain.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "I substitute with working out and a lot of martial arts practice. Oxytocin, adrenaline, dopamine and serotonin my body produces at least gives some reprieve but... yeah, I'm not exactly the most thrilling girl at a party." Phoebe admits, looking down to her hands, and she rubs her palms a moment as she considers her answer.

    "Every gunshot, stabwound and needle prick." Phoebe replies, holding up her left hand and its tattooed-in magic circle. "I... try to tell myself I'll get used to it, eventually." she murmurs, "... but I don't think I ever will."

    And then the question of The Shard.

    "Okay. So," she begins, and turns to face Robbie fully, unclipping herself, as she holds up her hands. "This is going to take some explaining about Egyptian mythology and where my biologicals come from."

    "In Times Beyond there were these eight primordial gods, and there was Heka, who's sort of the personification of magic. Supposedly Heka was there when The Big G said 'let there be light', and when the light reflected off the primordial waters, these eight gods rose up - Nu, Naunet, Hehu, Hehut, Kekui, Kekuit, and Amun and Amunet. And Heka took the light that woke the eight gods, bound it, and gifted it to a priestess, who apparently is my many-times-great-grandmother." Phoebe explains "And this 'shard' is basically a piece of when the Presence decided to create the world."

Robbie Reyes has posed:
What does it say about Robbie Reyes that he's sitting in his car on a darkened Gotham street in a winter storm, with this ridiculously hot girl who wants to tell him about the Egyptian primordial gods and the birth of magic. And he, having failed high school, is realising that she's not only beautiful, but really, really smart.

And more importantly, she likes him enough to share this with him.

"And you got a piece of that?" he asks in a low, warm murmur without taking his eyes off hers. The words are a little hesitant; he's still trying to fill in the blanks with her, after all. And there are still a *lot* of blanks.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    And she likes him because she thinks he's a nice guy, is highly attractive, and works with his hands. Gotta love a guy who works with his hands.

    And she t rusts him enough to share this with him.

    "I don't actually know if it's a piece so much as a presence in itself. Middle Egyptian is weird with its vocabulary, like it didn't matter what your relation was to a person if you cared about them you called them 'brother' or 'sister' regardless of if they were cousins, brothers, cute mechanics, and it got weird trying to sort out the whole family tree to the 1400's in the books but knowing that there was an actual registry so they could figure out to whom the Shard was most likely to manifest in was really hard to work out. I thought it was just, y'know, like Book of Daniel stuff when they list who begot who with who." Phoebe gives a smile, and she then holds up her hands again.

    And between her palms, she suspends just a touch of Light. It's dull, maybe like a sixty-watt bulb, enough to light up the car. She's trying to not pump enough magic in it to hurt anyone in the vicinity.

    "... The Shard is what lets me heal myself and others. And how I'm able to use magic and pick up on it so quickly, I think. It's what makes my unbound aura so bright. And I think it's alive, or at least aware... but there's no one I can ask about it."

Robbie Reyes has posed:
At this rate, that's what Robbie's epitaph's going to read: 'Nice guy. Good hands.' while Robbie's rolling away in his grave.

"So.." He gestures between them with a gloved finger and a faintly sly look. "That makes you my sister, then?"

He's about to say more, perhaps, when she does that little magic trick with generating Light between her fingers. He can *feel* it before it happens, but it doesn't make it any less repulsive to the demon residing inside him.

A breath hisses out his nose sharply, and she can see him push back into his seat a fraction-- before he realises he can trust her. He can *trust* her. She isn't going to try to drive it into his heart, where it would hurt like an absolute motherfucker.. though probably not kill him.

"Someone in the JLD must know about it," he suggests, still tense and cautious. "Or know someone who might.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe snorts at the implications "Yeah, it's actually written on tombs between spouses that one man wails and pleads to the gods for the return of his beloved, his sweet sister in life. And don't forget everyone in the Bats are technically 'family' too. I have enough problems!" Phoebe replies, and she holds the light for a moment more, then she shakes her head, and she lets the light fade.

    "Everyone who would know about it's dead. Leksandra made sure of that, so all I have are my books and some guesswork from some of the more experienced magi. But the Shard... if it is aware, is a part of me. Just as it was a part of my mother, and great-grandmother." she tilts her head back.

    "Benefit of having been born to an ultra-secret S-Class magic village so concerned about being found out that they had some seriously questionable practices." she states, looking at her hands a moment. "All the JLD knows about it is what I've told them, back when I led the stupid thing. Stupid Jon dying."

Robbie Reyes has posed:
Robbie's just being a little shit. He isn't even slightly serious about the sister thing; they don't even resemble one another in the slightest.

His body relaxes slowly as the Light flickers and fades, and he releases a breath he wasn't aware of holding. Outwardly, he still has the self-assured, almost cocky demeanor in place; maybe by now, Phoebe's becoming aware that it's at least partly an act. A way for him to survive, given what he grew up with.

"Maybe the answer's in one of your books," he offers quietly, hitching his chin toward the Curio. The shop's sign, presumably, is still visible through the haze of grey sleet drumming against the vehicle's body and windows.

His gaze drifts back to Phoebe. "Wish I knew something that'd help. Eli knows some shit about rituals and.. well, dark magic, I guess. But nothin' like this."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    The same way Phoebe tries to exude a cool confidence, as much armor as when she suits up for patrol in Gotham. She's scared, scarred and broken in so many places, but she gets back up and puts a smile on her face for others.

    "Maybe it is. Maybe it's not. I've tried addressing the Shard, but either it's not going to communicate in a way that I know how to read yet, or... maybe it just doesn't communicate." Phoebe gives a small shrug, and then purses her lips a moment.

    "I don't think Eli's going to help. He's sort of the thing my ancestors specifically fought against. They were exorcists, demon hunters, healers and diviners."

Robbie Reyes has posed:
A small crease appears between his brows when Phoebe reminds him of her family's lineage. Demon hunters, and yet here they both are.

"Maybe you just haven't asked the right question yet." He fidgets with the leather-covered steering wheel a moment. "Naw, Eli only helps when he thinks it'll benefit him, anyway. Or he wants to have something to hold over me. Wouldn't ask for a favour like that from him unless there wasn't another option."

Then, "You gonna be okay in the, uh." Snowstorm. "Need me to walk you up?" He knows she doesn't need him to do any such thing. But he asks regardless.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe's eyes dart over to Robbie, and she folds her hands together, her fingers curling in to wring slightly.

    "Maybe I'm not asking the right question. Or there's not enough for it to take interest at the moment. I'm not in any mortal danger anyway." she whispers quietly, and she reaches with right hand, still leaning slightly against the door, and she brushes her fingers -- if Robbie lets her -- against the side of his leather-glove covered hands.

    "I wouldn't want you to put yourself in that position for my sake... and... I mean if you wanna, I did promise you a hot meal. I've got some stuff I could heat up, dunno if there's much for delivery tonight."

    "You could park int he back of the building; not as likely to get a ticket or get hit by a plow."

Robbie Reyes has posed:
He still looks a little distracted with whatever thoughts are rattling around in his head when Phoebe glances over. His profile's all sharp angles: defined cheekbones, aquiline nose, jaw rolled slightly to one side in contemplative tension.

But the touch to his hand drags him back to the here and now, and she can see him swallow visibly in the dark. "Sorry, what?" He caught the bit about not being in mortal danger, but completely out of context.

"Wait, are we talking about helping you with the Shard now, or-- walkin' you up to your apartment? I mean, I'll take that hot meal any which way." The corners of his eyes crease with a too-brief smile as he turns to watch her. No crow's feet yet, but maybe there will be in a few years. Or maybe he'll just continue to look 18 give or take a bit, until the demon's done with him.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "... sometimes it feels like you're having a couple conversations at once... or you get lost in your thoughts. What's on your mind, Robbie?" Phoebe asks, outlined byt he rain and the streetlight. The way her dark eyes look up to him. The softness of her face and her features, the curve of her lips as they press with concern, the corners drawing down. She keeps her fingertips pressed against the leather glove's side. Gentle.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
"Mmm." It's half chuckle, half snort. "Maybe because I am." He watches Phoebe a while, lost in those dark eyes. Like maybe he's either ignoring her, or hasn't heard the question. The storm's getting worse; the sleet's turning to snow, and the snow's accumulating on his windshield at an impressive rate.

He still hasn't moved his hand, but the leather's quite warm with his radiant heat. As for what he was thinking about, "Wasn't nothing important. You wanna go up before we're both stuck in here for the night?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "I can think of worse people to be stuck with in a storm -- but like I said--" she tilts her head a moment, eyes tracking to the alleyway "You might wanna park in the back of the building. I'd feel bad for the snow plow that hits your car." she suggests, "And I can always portal us into the apartment, I guess, but that feels like cheating."

Robbie Reyes has posed:
"Wait 'til the car starts playin' what it wants on the radio," Robbie grumbles. But he dutifully fires the engine back up, does a quick shoulder check, and swings them back out onto the street with a brief skid of tires in the slushy snow.

"Hey, wait, you feel bad for the *snow plow*?" It took him a moment to realise what she said there. "My car needs me inside it to, uh, heal." Yes, he said 'heal' rather than 'repair itself'.

Parking only takes a minute, and then he's switching the ignition off again and collecting his keys, hood tugged up in a feeble attempt to keep the snow off. "Ready?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "You think Gotham pays for good equipment on their plows for side-streets? Nah-uh. I saw one hit a Dodge Neon once and the plowblade crumpled. Neon drove off with a dent in its fender. Against an actual well built car with what I'm assuming has an actual steel frame re-enforced, with all the customizations built into this vehicle just by listening to it?" Phoebe motions with her hands, "I might not be mechanically inclined, but I'm pretty freaking sure your car is stronger than a *Neon*." Phoebe points out as she reassembles herself and grabs her helmet from the floor.

    The back alley behind the Curio has a dumpster for the building (which is marked for NYC, not for Gotham City), it is full of snow and slush. There's a sign marked 'FOR RESIDENTS ONLY' above a couple of parking spaces that no one is parked in, and a lean-to where Phoebe usually shelters her bike and a large recycling can.

    The back entrance to the Curio is not as grand as its front. There's no sign leading to the bar room, and the door is smaller and locked with a deadbolt and a doorlock, which Phoebe negates entirely by simply knocking twice.

    "So your car decides the music it wants to play?" she asks, stepping into the back 'lobby' -- which consists of cream-colored walls and a bench to put on boots, and a door to the stairwell for the Curio's apartments.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
Slamming the door and pocketing his keys with a little flip-and-catch around the ring, Robbie digs his hands into his jacket pockets while he waits for Phoebe to climb out. "Neon's got a K-frame," he explains. "Charger's a unibody. You're right, they made these things out of sheet metal. Newer cars are usually fibreglass or--"

He's aware he's rambling and blushes slightly, kicking at a drift of snow. "Uh, yeah, sometimes. More like, if I put something on it don't like, it switches the station. Thought I was losin' my mind at first. Now I figure classical ain't so bad."

He ducks inside after Phoebe once she's got the door open, kicking the snow off his boots.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "You can go on about cars -- I like hearing you talk about stuff you know about. I know... I mean, not a LOT about cars. Or motors, but man if you need to know about a certain vermiculite mixture or phosphate ratios in garden beds..." she trails off with a smile, kicking off the snow from her boots, and then going to climb the stairs.

    "So your car likes classical music? That..." she pauses on the stairs, and looks over her shoulder at Robbie as she peels off the leather shell, showing she's wearing a black T-shirt stating MAGIC AF.

    "... that actually surprises me. I wouldn't have taken it for a fan of the classical station."

Robbie Reyes has posed:
"Vermiculite, huh?" Robbie trails her up the stairs, a steady *thump, thump, thump* of his boots. He stops when she does, and glances at her tee shirt. His mouth twists in something like a smile. "Haven't tried it. What's it good for? I got mostly vegetables on the porch. Couple of legumes. Been thinkin' of trying an orchid or two. People complain about them bein' high maintenance, but.."

He shrugs his shoulders. "I guess I don't mind when something needs a bit of extra work. I like a challenge." Phoebe gets a wink.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "It's good for opening up heavier soils and helping water retention." Phoebe answers, fully removing the shell and folding it over her arm.

    "At my friend Tim's I did up a rooftop garden. Patch of grass, some flowers, some herbs, some vegetables and ornamentals. Have to be careful what to pick 'cause Gotham's weather's awful--" she starts in, and she catches that wink.

    She smiles back at him.

    "Good to know. Orchids? They're a bit temperamental. People forget that they give you what you give them, and sometimes need to rest." she smiles slightly, taking a few more steps, backwards, up the stairs.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
Robbie makes a slight moue with his mouth. "I'll keep it in mind." But instead of following her up the stairs, he pauses where he is and watches the younger girl finish tugging off her shell.

"Mama had one," he answers softly. "Back-- back in LA." Obviously. He digs his hands deeper into his jacket, glances away and back again to Phoebe, dawdling her way up the stairs. "Hey, uh. If you ain't comfortable having me up, it's cool. Just wanted to make sure you got home okay, yeah?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "I've never been to the West Coast. Sometime I'd like to go, y'know, take a swim in the Pacific. Maybe do some people watching." she comments breezily on the subject of LA, and then she pauses, looking to Robbie a moment.

    "Robbie... why wouldn't I want you up? You're..." she pauses a moment, and she wrings her hands.

    "You're always welcome, I didn't mean it to sound like you had to give me a rest." she rubs the back of her neck in embarrassment.

    "And the roads are pretty awful. Nevermind -- portals, but..." she trails off a moment.

    "I wouldn't mind spending more time with you."

Robbie Reyes has posed:
Phoebe's commentary about visiting the West Coast is met with an uncomfortable silence. Whatever he's thinking, it doesn't seem to be something he's willing or able to discuss here and now.

"Right. Okay. Uh.. I mean, yeah. The roads are pretty bad." He's certainly not leaving the Hellcharger here and portal'ing home, either. "Okay," he repeats, softer this time. Then he continues thumping up the stairs after her.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    She just assumed the Hellcharger would go with him through the portal. Not respecting mass portal translocation rules!

    Up to 3A, and Phoebe opens the door and turns on the light.

    Robbie's thermos and tuppie are on the counter in the little kitchen. There's a little blue and white ribbon wrapped around the tuppie. Her guitar is on its stand, and the tree is still up by the windows overlooking the streetfront. The overstuffed couch and loveseat have fresh blankets over them in bright colors, and there's a large book with a bookmark in it sitting on the ottoman.

    "So, I've got crispy tofu, some Beyond Meat hot dogs, or half a bag of dinosaur chicken nuggets if you're still game for a hot meal after climbing three floors of stairs." she jokes lamely, reaching to turn on the light over the sink as she hangs her jacket up on a hook.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
By this point, the light dusting of snow that had accumulated on his shoulders and hood has mostly melted. So he drips a little as he stands just inside the entryway, after Phoebe's shut the door.

"Crispy tofu sounds great. If it ain't too much trouble." After a minute, he summons up enough courage to kick his boots off at least. But the leather jacket and damp hoodie stay. For now. As do the socks featuring Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer plastered all over them.

A quick glance around tells him the apartment's much the same as last time he was here. The tupperware and its brand new ribbon are spotted, but not remarked upon.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe's unlaced her bicycle boots, and has revealed her socks. They have happy little bits of sushi and 'that's how I roll' and 'sushi me rollin written on them.

    "Crispy Tofu it is, steamed broccoli and rice," she murmurs, "Go ahead and take your jacket off if you want. Wouldn't want you to overheat..." she pauses "... uh. *Can* you overheat?"

Robbie Reyes has posed:
Goofy socks. Who knew it'd be something they've got in common? Robbie's trying not to smile as he sheds his jacket, finds a chair to drape it across the back of, and then starts scraping his hoodie off. His tee shirt's briefly hiked up before he tugs it back down, exposing a glimpse of the intricate tattoo of Quetzalcoatl covering his upper body.

"Now that you mention it, I don't recall the last time I felt too hot.. cold, though, plenty." He tosses the hoodie atop his jacket and rifles fingers through his hair as he approaches the kitchen. "What can I help with?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe side-eyes Robbie as he takes off his shirt. She's seen the tattoo before, but she's seen the sunset a bunch of times too. Doesn't stop being nice to look at.

    "I feel the cold, but I've used my powers to avoid getting hypothermia. Hyperthermia? I've encountered. It makes me sick to my stomach really badly, but that's while I was ah... holding a bunch of celestial will inside my body." she explains, and her nose wrinkles. "Then I was just hot all the time and it was awful."

    And as she takes out a bag of broccoli from the freezer.

    "Ah, there's a big glass bowl in the cabinet next to where the mugs are -- could you grab it for me?"

Robbie Reyes has posed:
"Cheater," Robbie grumbles with false indignance. Another glance goes to his tupperware container as he passes, making a point not to accidentally on purpose brush against Phoebe on his quest to find the right cupboard. Aha, there it is. "Though I remember when we first got here, the hot water tank in our apartment was busted and it was the middle of February. Never did tell Gabe how I fixed it."

Spoiler: he didn't fix it. He just superheated the water inside with hellfire.

"Hopefully we don't have any more trouble with fuckin' angels any time soon." The bowl's set in front of Phoebe, and he leans against the counter to await further orders. Because it's her kitchen, and he doesn't quite seem comfortable yet with taking culinary liberties.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Yeah. I'd rather not meet up with them again, even though Sandalphon was nice enough, it was still..." she pauses, and then shakes her head to try and clear it. "... complicated for a lot of reasons." she murmurs after a moment, and then she leans back and looks at Robbie. Her eyes narrow a moment.

    "Did you end up making your landlord or management company get the repairs done in a timely manner?" she states, and then waggles her finger "When I rented in Kansas, that was such a pain. I had to ask the bar on the first floor for hot water from their sink to clean up after my shift." she states, and she sets rice in the bowl, along with water. She rinses the rice, and then dumps the water and adds additional water.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
Catching the pause, Robbie studies the girl curiously in return. He shrugs a shoulder at the question about his landlord. "I asked real nice." He flashes his dimples briefly, then the amusement fades while he watches her work. It's a nice excuse to simply.. admire her. Which he does, now, without any pretense.

"What was complicated about him? Sandalphon, I mean. If you wanna talk about it."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe moves with that smooth familiarity with someone who knows the kitchen well. Out comes a rice cooker, taking up a little room on the counter. Into a steamer basket goes the broccoli. The tofu is pre-made, so she places it on an oven tray as she considers her words, looking over to Robbie as he smiles.

    "You do have a great smile. Should wear it more often." she compliments him, the corners of her eyes crinkling a little bit."Chas sent him to me, to advise me. At the time I was having a lot of trouble with... a lot of things." she turns on the tiny oven in the apartment, in lieu of using a match for the fussy pilot it's just a whisper of a word and a flicker of fire from a fingertip. Then the stove top is lit. There's a vague smell of strong cigarettes, like a bad memory

    "I was in the process of removing the emotions from memories, it wasn't a good idea, but I didn't feel like I had anyone to help me handle the pain. And y'know, there's nothing I can take to escape it. Sandalphon perfected it, and then I was set on the path of being a monster. Dropping ceilings on crowds, putting my allies in danger, blowing up entire streets with a little spraypaint and bloodletting." she pauses, her fingers digging into the bamboo of the steamer basket.

    "And when it was done, and Sandalphon's gift was returned, I had the... horror of my actions. How I almost killed Red Robin." she pauses, and she looks back to Robbie, her dark eyes settling on his face.

    "I didn't have a demon whispering in my ear to make me do horrible things. And once I played my part, I was discarded. And everything I did, every scar and injury didn't matter in the end..." she trails off, rubbing at her left arm, pulling up her sleeve to show the scarred, burned-in array on the skin there.

    "They left anyway."

Robbie Reyes has posed:
Well. It's not exactly her cooking he's admiring.

The comment about him smiling prompts an awkward flush of colour on his freckled face, but no reply. Instead, he simply listens as Phoebe begins to talk; and his expression becomes more and more troubled as the details of what happened come to light.

"Phoebe." Just that, so softly, when she meets his gaze. He steps in closer, until she'd have to lift her chin to hold his gaze. He reaches out to almost -- but not quite -- touch her wrist. Waiting for permission before he does.

"I wanted to go after you, you know. I knew you were in pain. Couldn't figure out why you wanted to just.. forget everyone. Maybe I still can't. Tell me?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Obviously, it's her taste in prefab tofu.

    Her heart was beating fast. It was easy to be earnest to Robbie. To be raw. Dangle that painful nerve and wait for something to touch it. She lets him approach, her chin tilting up, lifting to look up at him, and she raises her hand, lifting her wrist to his fingertips.

    "I didn't want to forget everyone. I wanted people to forget about *me*. So that I didn't cause anyone the pain I was feeling." She takes a sniffling breath through her nose, the muscles of her chin tightening a moment as she tries to keep her brave face on.

    "Why would I want to break a heart like mine was? What's the worth of someone who's damned?"

Robbie Reyes has posed:
A hunter like he is, well, maybe he can feel the way her heart starts to race. Fear, Eli's claimed, is the part he enjoys the most in the game of chasing and tormenting and killing his prey. And as Robbie's mentioned, one cannot completely divorce the demon from the boy; Eli's like a poisonous and parasitic root system.

"So you were tryin' to shut us out and self destruct." His gaze drags from her darker one, down to her arm. And his fingers close around her wrist, gripping it a touch more firmly than is necessary, turning it so he can study the scar.

"You ever try to do that to me. I will hunt you down." His left eye flickers with that strange, inhuman heat as the demon stirs inside him.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Fear, according to Sunday School, was the foundation of love. Just as you should fear and love The Father, so you should fear and love your own parents. Phoebe had always thought that was a little awful to be teaching kids, and she gives a startle as her wrist is taken. Her arm is turned, so he can study the scarring on her shoulder and upper arm. "Where else could I *go*? Even Chas couldn't fucking *look* at me, I disgusted him."

    It's burned in. There are marks around it, thin, like needle scars. The array is circles and geometric patterns, outlined with words that look Latin, and symbols that are probably Egyptian. It was created for the purpose of containing Celestial Will, holding it like a battery. The scar doesn't look like it's a year old, even with Phoebe's healing powers.

    "And do *what*." Phoebe asks in a whisper of a hiss, that heady mix of fear and desire, her heartbeat faster with adreniline as she stares down Robbie, catching the fire in his left eye.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
He has no right to tell her these things. She isn't his, in any way, shape or form. And of fear and love: perhaps it's his care for her that Eli twists to his purposes, metabolising it into fear.

Robbie seems to realise a moment after the fact that his mind and will are slipping away -- or perhaps it's the runes that effectively repel his demonic side -- and he releases the girl abruptly with a shift backwards to lean fully against the kitchen counter. "Fuck. *Fuck*, I'm sorry, Phoebe." His breathing's gone a bit shallow, but at least his eye has returned to its usual strange shade of orange. "I-- I don't." He swallows. "I didn't mean that."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Her arm was released, and with how she was tensed it comes up and back, the slightly darker skin fading quickly from his released grasp. She blinks a moment, watching as Robbie's eye returns to its normal shade of amber, and she breathes out, her cheeks and ears dark as she looks on, and she closes her eyes.

    "I did." she whispers, and turning to make sure nothing was on fire behind her, she steps forwards and holds her hand out to Robbie, her left hand, the one with the magical circle that hides her aura, with the scars on her arm and further on her shoulder.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
"Lo siento," Robbie repeats in a low, rough voice. He spares a glance for the rice cooker's progress, then drops his gaze again. He's silent for a while, simply curling and uncurling his fingers like he's trying to work some pain or stiffness out of them.

What he does not expect is for Phoebe to approach him, after that; the look he gives her is uncertain. But he doesn't pull away as she reaches toward him.

"You did.. what? I don't understand." The scent of brimstone and burning metal lingers on him faintly, mingling with leather and ozone.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Ay, esta bien.'S okay. Neither of us are hurt. I'm not angry." Phoebe whispers softly, and she brushes her fingertips against his hand. Her Spanish is getting better; at least it's not said with a Jersey accent.

    "Meant it when I wanted everyone to forget about me, so I could destroy myself. That was the end goal. Because I'm scared, deep down, that no one could love me. Not in the way I thought I was when The Other One was around. 'Cause this mark, this is his working. He was able to pull me from the Afterlife with it. If he wanted to -- or was able to... he'd find me." Phoebe runs her tongue over her lower lip again, feeling the winter-chapped skin, her scent still all roses and black pepper and the bite of citrus.

    "But he's not coming back either."

Robbie Reyes has posed:
Her Spanish is getting a little better. He *almost* smiles when he hears it.

"Mmm," he muses, watching her face a moment more, and then her fingertips touching his knuckles. He opens his hand, allowing her to do what she will with it. "But your logic.. here's what I can't understand. If you really thought nobody loved you. Why wipe our memories of you? Why not do it the other way around, make it so you never knew *us*?"

A brief flick of his eyes to her tongue skimming her lower lip, then back to her dark eyes. "You know what I think? I think you knew, deep down, that you were cared for. And I think that part of you couldn't bear to hope it was true, so you tried to torch it."

His voice is barely a murmur by the time he's finished speaking; there's some odd, undefinable emotion colouring it.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Her fingers go to his palm, her fingertips gravitating there, pressing against his hand, her fingernails - still painted bright blue from the Reindeer Gala - running across the skin there. Her shoulders tense, her other arm curls over her middle, but she keeps her eyes on his mismatched set.

    "Who could love me after finding out what I did?" she asks in a whisper, the tears that had been building up in those dark eyes finally falling down her hot cheeks.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
The callouses on his fingers and knuckles are mostly from his job at the shop. It's likely that if he were to quit or find a new line of work, they'd smooth away again and leave no mark of their presence behind.

It's a fair question, though, that she asks. Could the average person tolerate who they are and what they do? What they've *done*?

Robbie takes Phoebe's hand in his, and then -- taken by an impulse -- lowers his head to kiss her palm with an uncharacteristic tenderness. "Podrias estar sorprendida," he murmurs. Which, of course, is totally unfair since she barely speaks any Spanish.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Mostly from the shop. Phoebe's are years in the making, making her hands a little rough to the touch, something that surprises the socialite crew -- which is why she wears gloves most of the time. Easier to hide the callouses that a 'young lady' is not supposed to have.

    But Phoebe is taken completely offguard by Robbie's gesture. Her palm is raised up, and her teary eyes watch as Robbie presses a kiss to her palm.

    The Average Person wouldn't understand it. A pair of murderous supernatural creatures, heroes on the darker side of good, a boy and a girl from different sides of life.

    "R-Robbie... I don't... I don't know what that means." she whispers hoarsely.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
Robbie's about as far from the socialite crew as one can get, without rummaging around in the actual gutter. And as it happens, he likes that her hands aren't soft and untouched. That much is evident from how he strokes his thumb along a couple of the callouses like he's trying to memorise them.

"I said, you might be surprised." He's lowered her hand, but not released it; it remains chained with his, nearly engulfed in his much larger grip, his odd eyes fixed steadily on Phoebe's.

"Anyway, I'm, uh. I'm interrupting dinner. You need me to.. to grab dishes or anything?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Din.." Phoebe begins, and she blinks her eyes. "RIGHT. Hot meal. Ah... shoot..." she whispers, "Yeah, yeah, there should be some shallow bowls that'll work up in that cabinet there -- forks under the microwave --" she doesn't seem to want to let go of his hand. There was a security there.

    "I don't have a dining room," -- evidenced by the tiny one-bedroom apartment -- "I usually just eat at this breakfast bar here or on the couch so wherever is comfortable and ohmigod--" she starts puttering around -- first time she doesn't let go of his hand. Second time it's a 'I just need to borrow my hand back' whispered to him as she grabs out kitchen towels to use as hot handles to pull the now certainly crispy tofu out of the oven.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
Phoebe's hand is released somewhat reluctantly, and he looks a little bit amused at how flustered she is right now, like someone lit a fire under her and she's not quite sure how to put it out. "Couch is fine," he replies with a rare grin.

The girl's watched a moment or two more in her MAGIC AF tee and her mad scramble for kitchen towels, and for a moment he's sorely tempted to just overrule her and grab the tray out of the oven bare handed. ~Because the heat doesn't bother him anyway!

But plates and cutlery it is, so he goes to deal with that.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Plates and forks and a couple of sauces in little bowls are set out, steamed broccoli and white rice and crispy tofu served up, the little holiday tree (that still has Robbie's santa hat on it) lit up, and the warm glow of the TV. Phoebe with her sushi socks perched on the arm of the couch because no, she doesn't sit normally if she can help it.

    "I'm telling you, we need to find reasons for you to smile more, Robbie. You got the cutest friggin' dimples."

Robbie Reyes has posed:
Just for that, he makes a show of scowling really hard. Then sticking his tongue out at her with a flash of silver barbells.

And Phoebe perching on the arm of the couch just gives him all the more space to flop down and stretch out. Meaning, he takes the whole damn rest of it lengthwise, and digs into his food without so much as saying a quick grace. His abuela would be horrified.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Careful or your face'll get stuck like that. And you'll turn into Batman." Phoebe invokes the particularly dour boss. And she side-eyes Robbie's barbells a moment, and opens her mouth, looking like she was going to ask a question, and then thinks better of the question, reserving the open mouth for a piece of tofu in hot sauce.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
Robbie, mouth full, happens to glance up in time to spot that thoughtful look and the hesitation that follows. He continues watching her a few moments, chewing slowly and equally thoughtfully. Then he swallows. "If I ever wind up like Batman, just fuckin' put me out of my misery. Uh, no offense to your boss. But he's got this look on his face like he just accidentally ate someone's dirty socks." Robbie, that was not your inside voice.

"What were you gonna say?" Then he shoves more food in his mouth.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "No offense taken on my boss's behalf, but I'm sure that if anyone else heard you say that -- they'd probably go 'yeah kinda does look like that'." Phoebe replies with a grin.

    ".. well. I was gonna ask if those barbells were for what I think they're for, but uh..." she pauses and looks straight ahead at the muted TV, and her ears and cheeks darken again "then I'd have to explain more about my thought process and we did just kinda have a Moment in the kitchen and who wants to ruin a 'I sorta stared down a demon while making tofu' vibe. An' sides, totally not good dinner conversation. You comfy?"

Robbie Reyes has posed:
Thankfully, he wasn't in the midst of swallowing anything when Phoebe gets to asking her question, or he'd likely have choked on it and required the heimlich or something. Which, if there's one way to make things even worse.. well, that's quite possibly it.

Needless to say, he simply pauses a moment as if to make sure he heard her right. Then, pushing some rice around on his plate, "You mean for oral sex, right?"

Seems like he missed the bit about 'not good dinner conversation'.

"They taught you about that in Catholic school, right? And no, wasn't *just* for that reason. Also got it because I wanted to." Which isn't entirely a no.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe, however, was mid-swallow, and she does in fact choke a moment, requiring her to raise her bowl a moment to hide the fact that a hard swallow wasn't going to help.

    "Let's just say that after living with someone pretending to be John Constantine I had to very thorough /yet theoretical/ education on various forms of physical affection and some very frank conversations about slang words and being a teenager with access to the internet. But Caroline Beacon was a public health and history teacher, so I learned about stuff there too." she stirs her rice into her broccoli, and tries Take Two.

    "And I only went to Catholic school until sixth grade, where I got kicked out for fighting some highschoolers. Nothing says 'respectful representative of the Catholic community' like delivering a dislocated shoulder."

Robbie Reyes has posed:
Theoretical. Robbie's not entirely sure what she means by that, and the resulting questions rattle around in his head for a good twenty or thirty seconds while he eats more tofu. The beating up high schoolers comment does amuse-- and not entirely surprise him, though.

He finally decides to ask: "So you ever been with someone? I mean in a sexual relationship. More than just.." He gestures with his fork. "Cuddling."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Nnnope." Phoebe answers honestly, looking over to Robbie as she cracks an uneasy, shy half-smile.

     "You are, in fact, only the third person I've ever kissed. The whole 'takes a while to warm up to being touched' thing kinda puts a damper on most everything about a physical relationship."

Robbie Reyes has posed:
"Ain't nothing wrong with that." It's spoken softly, and without a shred of his usual prickliness engineered to keep people from getting close to him. Keep them from catching a glimpse of the hurt, scared kid under the street tough front.

"First time I did it--" With the math teacher, presumably. "I figured it meant she saw me like a.." He clears his throat awkwardly. "Like a man. I know for a fact now she didn't. Just had a husband didn't know she existed, I guess, and I was convenient."

He pokes some more at his rice. "Point is, I respect the hell out of you for it."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe listens to Robbie, and she gives him a soft smile, and she gives a nod, and she draws her dark gaze to him.

    "I know you respect me. Otherwise you wouldn't be here. Every time you've stopped it meant the world to me, you know? Because you're paying attention, you get the message. And I'm really, really thankful for it." Phoebe gives a sedate little smile, and then brings her foot around to poke at Robbie's foot.

    "She sounds like a righteous bitch. I can't even... taking advantage of someone like that..." she trails off quietly.