13870/Drive, Phoebe, Drive!

Drive, Phoebe, Drive!
Date of Scene:	18 January 2023
Location:	Tricorner Island
Synopsis:	Alfred takes Phoebe for a driving lesson in Gotham. It goes about as well as you'd expect.
Cast of Characters:	Alfred Pennyworth, Phoebe Beacon, Michael Hannigan
Tinyplot:	The Count of Monte Cristo

---

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
So here we have it, Alfred has finally had to take matters into his own hands again. Phoebe had mentioned to him her needing to learn to drive, and he had offered gladly to assist with that, but for some reason she seemed to keep finding reasons to delay the lesson. Urgent meetings, emergency Bat-business, that sort of thing. It COULD have all been a series of coincidences, of course. But, knowing for certain that she was off-duty and in the mansion today, Alfred took the initiative to pull the Benz around, and leave it idling in the drive as he stepped back into the house to call for her.

"Miss Phoebe! Good news, we have a lovely opportunity just now to get in some of that driving practice you've been after me for. I'm so sorry I've been too busy since you first brought it up."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Emergency meetings, school projects, loosely defined 'business with a cat that got cursed', and any other number of maladies and happenstances that resulted in her rnot being able to be taught at just this moment.

    And Phoebe was just coming in from class, having 'mysteriously appeared' in the foyer wearing an orange hair wrap, denim jacket with sherpa and fancy jeans.

    And for a moment she had stopped and just stared at Alfred with a 'what' expression, blinking behind the tinted lenses of her acetate glasses.

    "... a driving lesson? I get to *drive*?" she asks, and then she balks a moment "Not The Car, right?" ?

Michael Hannigan has posed:
As is prone to happen when a film has been greenlighted, Mike, who has been cast in one of the primary roles, finds himself at Gotham Cable Studios. More precisely he finds himself LEAVING Gotham Cable Studios because he has finished what it is he had to do over here. He was not the only one who had to show up which led to a few people waiting for a cab.

Unfortunately cabs do not follow the tabletop game rules that depict the overall shape of taverns to be an n-gon where n = x+1 and x stands for the number of mysterious strangers sitting in dark corners.

No. Cabs are a bit more structured. For instance, there are four seats available in the cab that showed up. And five of them in line.

Mike looks over to the ladies that are most definitely traveling together trying to discuss how to break up the group.

"Just go ahead."

"...sure?"

"It's daylight out and a guard not twenty feet away. I'll be fine."

And thus ends the saga of the Taxi. With the car driving off, leaving Mike standing by himself. Save for the security guard at the nearby gate.

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
"Of course not 'THE' Car," Alfred scoffs. "That would hardly be appropriate for a learner's permit. No, I've pulled the Benz around. Out of all of the available vehicles it has the best safety features, and it has an automatic transmission."

He gestures for Phoebe to precede him out the front door. "Keys are in the ignition. Shall we?"

He is, of course, maintaining a confident air in the hopes that it will inspire confidence in her as well. She HAS had plenty of experience operating other sorts of gadgets and bikes, right? How hard could it be?

"We needn't tackle anything difficult like parallel parking just yet. We'll just... take her for a turn around town. Perhaps down to the docks. There's a nice stretch of quiet road we can take to get there from here..." just butler patter, background noise to soothe the soul.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "I've barely got a learner's permit. I was supposed to learn how to drive --" she pauses a moment, and then pulls her jacket back on.

    "All right, to the Docks, I know the way pretty well. We'll just take it easy..." Phoebe comments, trying to let Alfred's faith in her ability to adapt inspire some confidence in her driving as she comes around to the driver's seat, opens the door, and goes to sit down inside.

    "... this car costs more than what I made all last year with all my jobs." she whispers quietly "ohgod Alfred what if I scratch it?"

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Over near the studio, Mike glances down the street for a moment. And then there's the sense of being watched.

He looks over to the Security guard. "Hey Charlie, how're the kids?"

"They're the reason I volunteer for overtime."

"Oh. Padding a college fund?"

"No. I just don't want to go home."

Mike pauses, gives a nod and starts looking back down the street again.

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
"Then we'll get it fixed, my dear," Alfred replies with confidence and just a hint of teasing as he settles himself in the passenger seat. "Were you somehow under the impression that car repairs presented a problem to this family? I'd rather prefer you didn't drive off a pier or into a brick wall, but it's no trouble even if there should be some, er, mishap."

He fastens his seatbelt.

Not as a commentary on Phoebe's ability. Really. Just habit. He indicates with a meaningful tilt of his head that she ought to fasten hers too.

"Honestly, this car is intelligent enough that I'm not sure it would LET you collide with something. As long as we don't try drag racing," he adds, and this remark does have a little bit of bite to it, as if he Knows something. His expression is implacably calm though, no sign of judgement.

He clears his throat. "Right. Adjust your seat, adjust your mirrors, and when you're ready, just take her down the lane."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "No, but I've repeatedly been Hell on Tim's upholstry and detailing." Phoebe makes a FACE at the memories, and she adjusts her seat, testing her foot reach against the brake. She adjusts the mirrors so that she's keeping an eye on things, and clips herself in -- though the commentary about Drag Racing oes get a moment's side-eye over to Alfred.

    "Wouldn't know anything about that; this is my first time behind the wheel of a car."

    She takes a breath, and thanking goodness that she wasn't learning clutch on the first time out, she puts the Benz into drive, and very slowly begins to roll out.

    And she drives very cautiously, but manages to make it down the lane, and into the city a bit.

    "Why would I want to drive it off the pier? Pollute the water even more? C'mon, Alfred!"

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"What about you?"

Mike blinks, looking back over to Charlie, "What about me what?"

"Kids?"

"Nope. Don't have any."

"...Why not? You're missing out"

Mike's head tilts. "But, you just said-"

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
"Heavens knows I don't pretend to undertand what goes on in your heads," Alfred replies airily, referring to the Bat-kids as a whole. Including the adult ones.

"It could be the latest Tiktok fad. Drive your father's car off a pier, record it for posterity, I don't know." How he manages to maintain a calm demeanor is likely a testament to the hell the first one put him through. He can't quite stop himself from pressing his foot into the floorboards though when his instincts tell him they ought to be braking. "Ah, make sure you're in the right lane coming up to this stop."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Nah I'm still on Instagram creating content for the Yap and Idu fans with Tim. We're way more dog-people-fans than driving *cars* off --" she puts her signal on, and gives a soft yelp of alarm as a car speeds up, blowing its horn and the person inside flips the two of them off!

    "OHMIGOD." she squeaks, half-hiding behind the wheel, turning, merging and coming to a stop right near poor, abandoned Michael Hannigan.

    "...oh god is that Mike? What's he doing out here?!"

Michael Hannigan has posed:
WHAAAARRRRR!!!!!!

Mike had seen the Benz make it's drive along the street but the sudden speed around and display of impatience does end up drawing more of the attention. Not only does the maneuver cause for the car to go into the opposing traffic lane but it is blatantly obvious he is going way over the posted signage. There's also a bit of a wobble as the car slings back into the proper lane, almost looking like he's about to go onto the sidewalk as well.

Now it should be stated that in order for the finger to stick out the window, that allows for the opportunity of something to go in through the same way. In this case, sound. "IT'S CALLED A SPEED LIMIT, JACKASS!"

Classy as always.

Rolling his eyes he steps back,glancing forward as there's the sound of a car stopping in front of him.

How on earth did he miss a taxi approa-

He looks to Phoebe and Alfred.

That's not a taxi.

Blink.

Blink.

A hand raises up to wave to the two.

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
"It's all right," Alfred soothes. "That was just the Gotham salute. They oughtn't have been cruising in your blind spot. But next time, remember to glance over your shoulder as well as checking the mirrors."

"In fact, if you look at the mirror," he taps on his window, "you'll see that a light comes on when the car detects something in your blind spot. As an extra safe--tee!" he whoofs out that last bit as the sudden stop throws him against the seat belt. "Measure," he finishes his sentence as he recovers his composure.

"It certainly seems so," he agrees, especially when Mike waves to them. He puts down his window enough to let his voice out clearly. "Mr. Hannigan, what a pleasant surprise. Can we offer you a lift?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Ohmigod I am going to get someone killed. Put me back on a motorcycle. A Horse. A large flying cat. A goat boat. I'll freaking *deal with goats*." Phoebe mutters, and there's a brief moment where she bonks her head against the wheel, which activtes the horn, which makes her physically jump up in her seat.

    And then she looks at Alfred offering Michael Hannigan a ride?!

    "Are you *trying* to kill him?!" Phoebe asks incredulously, and then she looks at Mike, and then looks up at the sky, utters some words in Egyptian Arabic which may come to 'please don't kill me today I have a hot date in the future', and then then unlocks the door.

    "Room for One More." she calls out dourly.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
The second horn wasn't expected for Mike either as he steps back for a moment, bringing hands up to his ears. And so now, Mike has a choice. Alfred has kindly offered a ride, but Phoebe has made it honkingly clear to her level of confidence with driving. But then again even before Phoebe beeped, the horn honk from the other driver was enough a spoiler to the extra caution the new driver is running under.

Then there's another factor.

Mike takes note of Charlie to the side of his vision and in a moment the mind plays through a list of potential conversation topics that could be brought up by the guard if he chose to wait.

The musician turned actor lowers his hands, smiles to Alfred, and then to Phoebe. "Thank you."

Sliding a backpack off of his shoulders he slides into the backseat of the Benz. He buckles up before sliding the bag between his legs so it doesn't shift about. "So, what brings you two near the studio?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Obviously my guardian has a death wish and insisted I drive." Phoebe mutters crossly, and she puts the car back in drive, signals to pull away from the curb, and draws away and into traffic.

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
"Oh, pish," Alfred scoffs. "You're doing fine." Also, he reminds himself, this latest generation of the Benz has extremely good safety features. Even in the case of collision... well, crumple zones and all, they ought to be fine as long as they're all wearing belts. But somehow he senses that this is not the line to be taking to calm his student's nerves.

"Really," he insists softly, as Mike rustles around climbing in the back. "This is MUCH safer than a motorcycle. Stop worrying about damaging the car and remember that it's like... like riding a motorcycle only you've a suit of armor around you to guard you. And no goats to worry about. Bonus!" he chirps cheerfully.

Twisting slightly in his seat to look back at their new passenger, he explains, "Oh, I'm just taking Phoebe out for a bit of practice on her learner's permit. Where to, my good man?" Aside to Phoebe, he adds, "I promise I'll take over if it's anywhere too tricky, all right?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "This is nothing like riding a motorcycle with a suit of armor." Phoebe comments wryly.

    Both the men know she's worn armor provided by the BAts.

    She breathes out and forces herself to relax, and she gives a slight smile.

    "Thanks, Alfred. I really do appreciate that offer. I'd trade places with Mike in the back." she comments, easing the Benz up to speed.

    "Yeah, where to, how's the movie thing going?"

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike is about to answer but he pauses thinking about the traffic that leads towards the hyperloop station. If she's practicing, he's not about to give her an easy out like that. But there are other places he wouldn't mind going. "...Do you know the Azure Hotel near Robinson Park? An old friend works there. I should visit before I head out."

He leans back into the seat, making sure any sudden accelerations don't catch him by surprise. "Well, they finished casting and I just got out from my second fitting to make sure the alterations work. Filming starts soon."

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
Alfred smiles satisfiedly as he settles back in his own seat. "That ought to be doable. You know the way?" Just in case she doesn't, he taps in some instructions on the on-board computer to bring up the Google Maps view of the route on the little screen. Otherwise, he trusts his offer to take over from her to provide the little nudge needed to her pride to see this through.

"And how are you feeling about the script?" he inquires politely. "Are we due a new summer blockbuster?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Roughly, it's been a while since I've taken a street that way." Phoebe admits, and she very carefully follows the directions towards Robinson Park.

    "Most of the time if I'm in that area, I'm in the park for things." she comments quietly and gives a soft 'hmm' sound.

    "Not sure if Monte Crisco is going to be a blockbuster. There's still people who think it's about the car race." she jokes.

    "Not me of course.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"Cristo." Mike absent mindedly corrects. "The script seems fine. It's been adapted to where it's not as ....heavy as the book. Just focusing on a few of the plotlines to make it easier to digest. It's more a vessel for the musical which unfortunately didn't have the English production recorded during its limited release. And while it becoming a blockbuster would be great, that's not the point so much as to generate work and make the spirit of the story more accessible. Also we have a backer with the Italy tourism board that's making the production possible and getting us easier access for the on location shoots..."

Pale eyes set on Phoebe, "If I was in it for blockbusters I sure as heck wouldn't agreed to the Sea Wolf miniseries."

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
"Better than assuming it's about baking," Alfred quips back wryly, catching the silly wordplay. "Shooting on location ought to be lovely. What part of Italy--" he suddenly bolts up to attention.

"Look out!" he cries, his foot jabbing uselessly against the floorboards of the passenger side as some idiot steps right into the street just ahead of them. Jaywalking AND forgetting to Splink. For shame!

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Pff, no one would have agreed to a Sea Wolf miniseries. Of course I just kinda binge when I can wa--" she cries out, and she catches the walker.

    She grips the wheel. She presses back against the driver's seat, and she changes her foot from one pedal to the other as she brakes, hard enough that she bounces her head a bit forward and cracks her lip against the wheel of the Benz, the car coming a little side -ways as another vehicle roars by on the left, its horn screaming and then blaring slowly and dropping in tone as it goes past them!

Michael Hannigan has posed:
It is a good thing Mike is wearing a seatbelt. It earns its keep as it keeps him in the seat. As for his head, it travels forward until the body attached to it can no longer accommodate for that. "Ah-" Mike bites back toe rest of the response. When the car is fully stopped he cautiously moves his head back.

He's quiet for a few moments before he lets out a small chuckle.

"Look at that. She's already got defensive driving down."

Talk of Italy is ignored for a moment.

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
Alfred has the window down and his seat belt unlatched with furious alacrity, leaning out to shake his fist at the jaywalker. "You bloody fool! Are you trying to get yourself killed? There's a crosswalk right-bloody-THERE!" he stabs his finger ferociously toward the end of the block, then pulls himself back into the car to look over at Phoebe. "Are you all right? Bloody idiot," he adds again, fuming as he glares at the man hopping back onto the sidewalk. Back to Phoebe, he assures her swiftly, "You did /exactly/ what you needed to do there. Well done."

Then his head is out the window again as the man starts to approach the vehicle in a belligerent manner. "I /assure/ you, sir, you do NOT want to continue this conversation!"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe brings her hand to her lip a moment, feeling the split sting, a little blood on her fingertips as she registers Alfred yelling, and her shoulders draw up, adreniline messing with her comprehension in just that moment as her stomach bolts. She looks to Mike, she looks to Alfred, and to the man approaching them.

    It's Gotham. Likelihood of that man being armed is pretty high.

    What happens next is a practiced maneuver. Unclip, out the door, use the door to push across the roof and swing your legs out.

    Both feet catching against the jaw of the approaching man, and then Phoebe ends up crouched on the sidewalk, eyes wide and hands balled into fists.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
So. It appears the question of What happens when someone approaches a car in a quasi threatening manner with one of the bats, a former cold war operative, and a JLD member in the car is about to be answered. As Phoebe starts to move, there is a clink as Mike's own seatbelt is undone. He slides out on Alfred's side, just as Phoebe joins them via the Pedestrian jaw passage.

Mike's eyes follow the man's path down to the ground, unspeaking as he looks over to Phoebe.

Well. That just happened.

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
Alfred's tirade cuts short in a moment of shock as he is suddenly alone in the car, and the man is suddenly on the pavement and blinking in confusion. "Ah. Right, well -- perhaps we ought to be going, then." They don't need a lawsuit, or worse yet, super identities being dragged into this.

Hoping the idiot might be disoriented by the sudden ass- (or jaw) kicking, he shouts at him, "And consider yourself lucky all you got from that stunt was a bruise, mate!" all the while making urgent jerking motions with his head to get Mike and Phoebe back in the vehicle.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike crouches down next to Phoebe. "Why don't you get in the back? Come on."

Judging from the urgency it's likely better they have a seasoned driver behind the wheel instead. Mike looks over to Alfred to make sure he's on the same thought process. Being that Dream sight isn't the best way to convey unspoken instructions, he'll just have to rely on a LOOK and a Nod to the driver's side.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe was about ready to throw down for Alfred's sake, until she's reminded that there's some things the Wayne Heirs aren't SUPPOSED to do.

    Probably brawl on the sidewalk is one of them.

    She looks to Mike, and she gives anod, ducking into the backseat of the Benz before she leans her head forward and whispers:

    "Oh god I'm going to be in so much trouble."

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
Alfred is indeed on the same wavelength already, hauling himself over to the driver's side as soon as his window is back up. There follows some scuffling and swearing as he squeezes himself into a seat Phoebe had adjusted for herself, and hastily presses the button to return the seat and mirror settings to his defaults. He lets out a quick sigh of relief once his legs have room to fit again.

"Not if I can help it," he mutters, and takes the car back out into traffic with a screech of rubber. Hit and run isn't usually his style, but when it's a matter of Bat-dentities on the line, he's learned to be pragmatic.

"Honestly," he remarks, once they're a few blocks away, "I think that for your first outing in Gotham, that couldn't have gone much better."