13955/Street justice is police justice

Street justice is police justice
Date of Scene:	24 January 2023
Location:	Somewhere in Gotham
Synopsis:	No description
Cast of Characters:	Phoebe Beacon, Robbie Reyes

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Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    It was a nice night, for Gotham City. The skies were only lightly overcast, hiding the sliver of a moon from view behind a veil of fuzzy clouds. The roads were wet but not snowy following a couple of decent days. Phoebe had the night off from her Other Job, and the morning off from classes, and had shot Robbie a text of:

>Feel like hanging out in the dark and seeing if trouble finds us? Or tacos? I'm not particular to which.

    And she was out of her designer duds and fanciness, her hair in a peach hair wrap, wearing a black sweatshirt with some kind of 'epic space/scifi rock band' on it, jeans and her knee-high lace-ups, with a smile that's beginning to show up just for Reyes.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
His reply:

>Sure hope it's tacos

Followed by:

>Where should I pick you up?

There. That sounds casual enough, right? Or does it. Grumbling, he shoves his phone into his pocket, grabs his keys, and hollers for Gabe to finish the laundry before locking up and heading out.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    >If you're feeling THAT hungry... could always stop some place. Pretty sure you ruined me on fast food enchiladas for ever though. Just got outta my late class. gotta cross campus to get the Metro.

    Phoebe was hurrying a bit, her backpack slung over her shoulder -- this was a canvas bag covered with doodles. Not her Supernatural Hunting bag that she toted out sometimes. This had school books, pens, notebooks, and her school art kit.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
>Hey, you want to stop by taco bell, that's your loss.

Robbie pauses, left hand on the steering wheel, and frowns at his phone screen in confusion.

>Wait, so you are at school? I thought

>Never mind, I'll be there in like, 15. just hang tight. Meet you out front of the library?

Then the engine's fired up with a throaty growl, the radio switched on (it's Mendelssohn's Songs Without Words, naturally) and he swings onto the street with a brief kick of tires on slush.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    >How do you think I found out my classes were canceled? Think the professors post this stuff online?

    >In front of the library it is. I'll be the one in the black sweatshirt... :P

    And true enough, there's a bunch of people milling near the university library, a pair of earbuds in as she nods her head to music. The peach colored hair wrap was knotted in the front and made to look a bit like a flower. She's got a bit of lip color on today, and her eyes lit up, pulling one earbud from her head when she picks up on the growl of the Charger's engine.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
The beast of a muscle car is pretty hard to miss; one would need to be deaf, blind, and impervious to the demonic energy washing off it. A few of the milling students watch the sleek and obviously modified vehicle approach with open curiosity. Not too many cars like *that* around here.

Pulling to a stop by the green -- though less green, and more snow-spotted brown this time of year -- Robbie turns scan the faces of those milling about with slightly narrowed eyes. It takes him a minute, but.. there she is. Black sweatshirt, zoning out to some music. He flashes a quick, dimpled smile and holds her gaze across the fifty feet or so as he leans over to pop the lock on the passenger side door.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe pulls the other bud from her ear; there's not too many cars like that Charger around Gotham, nor the tri-city area. It's pretty unique, and though the waves of the dark energy give her a little bit of a shiver, the dimpled smile is caught as she picks her way around some stepping stones across the muddle white-and-brown in lieu of green, trying to make sure her boots don't get too full of crud, reaching for the door latch to let herself in.

    "Hey, thanks for the ride." she greets Robbie, with a smile so big that the corners of her eyes and the bridge of her nose crinkles. Those gunmetal-gray fingernails shine as she reaches for the seatbelt to secure herself.

    "And for your information, the *only* thing I get at Taco Bell is fiesta potatoes and Baja blast. That's not even like, real Mexican food!"

Robbie Reyes has posed:
The music's switched to Liszt's Consolations in D-flat major. An oddly pensive choice given the raw, indiscriminate power under the car's hood. Robbie's arm remains draped casually across the seat while Phoebe climbs in, and there's some hesitation as he goes to touch her face-- then changes his mind, and tries to reach for her hand instead. So he can check out her nails. "Looks good," he comments, desperately trying not to be awkward and somewhat failing. "Is this new, or was I just.." Distracted with other things when last they spent time together.

"Fiesta potatoes? Ugh, seriously, Phoebe?" Nevertheless, he releases her hand and pulls back out onto the street with a swing of the wheel. "You're serious about taco bell, aren't you."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe had leaned towards Robbie a little when it looked like he was going to touch her face, but as he picks up her hand she gives an embarrassed laugh.

    "Ah, I had them the other night." she gives a little smile, the gunmetal gray and the bright fire red ring fingers. She feels her ears and cheeks warm. "But I can't blame you for being distracted enough to not notice the nails." she cracks a bright grin, and she settles back in her seat.

    "We are *not* going to Taco Bell. Ah -- cut through Robinson Park. On the other side there's a place called Rosa's, I'm told their pulled beef tacos are fire, and they have a mushroom taco that really satisfies the craving." she explains with a grin.

    "Gonna take it up as a challenge to serve me more home-made food? Because that is a challenge I am *down* for!"

Robbie Reyes has posed:
Now it's Robbie's turn to blush, when it's pointed out that he may have had other things on his mind. Her hand is released with an odd gentleness, for one who is what he is, and does what he does. A calloused thumb stroked from wrist to knuckles, then contact relinquished entirely as he focuses on his driving.

"Rosa's?" He glances over briefly, warmth at the corners of his eyes and mouth. "Haven't been there. Sounds all right, though." He hangs a left, taking it a *little* faster than perhaps he should. But he knows the limits of his car, and when to rein it back in as the rear tires lose and regain traction.

"I get what this is," he murmurs with some amusement. "You're tryin' to trick me into cooking more for you."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe smiles, her ears a little warm at the gentlenes swhich RObbie takes to stroke at her hand, trailing from wrist to her knuckles, and she cracks a little bit of a smile, her fingers curling briefly to catch against his thumb before she sits back and lets him drive, doing her best to not grab the chicken bar out of habit.
    "I'm told it's great -- take the next right, it'll bring you through a side alley and an old Park access gate that doesn't shut." she states, familiar with this part of Gotham like the back of her hand, and she gives a bright smile as he accuses her of mischeif!

    "Okay, a little bit trying to get you to cook for me. What can I say? I like your cooking."

Robbie Reyes has posed:
This is probably Robbie's version of behaving himself in consideration for his passenger. He hasn't managed to attract any unwanted attention, at least; though a quick glance in the rearview mirror confirms it's on his mind. Last thing he needs is Batman catching him driving recklessly with one of his charges.

"How 'bout next Saturday, you can come over and help me start some seedlings." His eyes flick over to the girl, then back to the road. "I'll make you dinner. Gabe's gonna be out with his friends the whole weekend."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Probably worse than that; Batman might make Phoebe drive home.

    "Sounds like fun, I'd be happy to help start out some. I'll bring some of my own with me." Phoebe gives a wry grin.

    "I'll show you mine if you show me yours." she adds in a joke, leaning comfortably back in the passenger seat. "Anything you want me to bring, you let me know. Still weird weird coming empty-handed."

Robbie Reyes has posed:
"Yeah?" Robbie looks pleased at the suggestion of bringing some seeds to their.. what, gardening party? He makes a bit of a face. It sounds like something old, rich people do. "Gardening hangout," he murmurs out loud, finishing the conversation he'd been having in his head. Like a weirdo.

"Uhhh. Sorry, what am I showin' you, again?" He glances over at the girl, then back to the road before hanging a right turn into the alleyway as directed. The buildings to either side block out what fading sun remains, hurling them into an uneasy half-dark. "I mean, more important, what are you showin' me." His mouth twitches with the hint of a smile.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Gardening Hangout." Phoebe gives a bright smile, her nose and eyes crinkling a little bit at the idea of getting dirty at the Reyes house. "I've got some Carolina Reaper seeds that I've been carefully propagating. I crossed with a Naga last year and *whooo* did my friend Laura end up making some *hot* stuff outta those. "Let me tell you. Nothing scares off people like mentioning that you like to pretend to bury bodies as you garden." she cracks a grin at that, and shrugs a little more into her sweatshirt as the sun disappears behind the building.

    "I mean, I was going to show you my seed collection and pictures of my gardens, nothin' *that* exciting. What, you waiting to see what's gonna wet my plants the fastest?"

    The car passes through the alley and to the old access gate to the back ends of Robinson Park, where the woods are a bit thicker. It's not as big as Central Park, but people tend to stick to the plazas and more touristy sections. The access road is a little rough, wooded and dark, and the sounds of the city fade away as they're surrounded by older oaks and pines and the occasional stark white of a birch tree, sticking out like a bleached rib in the woods.

    Phoebe draws her eyebrows up a bit, and she checks her pockets for something to worry at. She finds a paperclip, and she begins to twist at it.

    "How loud is he, in your head, outta curiosity?"

Robbie Reyes has posed:
"Yeah, gardening hangout," Robbie repeats, making a little moue with his mouth as he thinks about it. "Doesn't really work, does it."

The Charger practically *growls* as he throttles the engine back and rides the clutch once they hit dirt. "Baby, you ain't seen yet how excited I get about plants," he teases gently.

Then watches her profile a moment or two, and the shift in body language as she hunts for something to fidget with. "You can check the glovebox," he suggests, squinting a little as he tries to follow the twist of the road.

"Imagine someone sittin' beside you, talkin' in your ear. Sometimes they don't got much to say. But they're always.. there. You can't shake 'em."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "I'm not sure I wanna know what's in your glovebox." Phoebe teases back to the driver, "Could be something scary. Like... spare gloves," her eyes casting over to Robbie, but she listens to him, and considers her night work. There's always someone in her ear now. Generally they're friendly and trying to help, sometimes cracking a joke. Eli, she imagines, isn't a fan of puns or knock-knock jokes.

    The paperclip didn't stand a chance. It's twisted and straightened out in turns as she listens to Robbie, and gives a nod.

    They speed past a little indent in the road that might have been a trailhead, but is a very convenient place for an Interceptor Utility Vehicle to be parked for monitorring traffic.

    They pull out, following the Charger for a second or two, enough to know the plates aren't local before reds and amber lights come up, and a loud WOOOOOOOOP.

    "This is the Gotham City Police! Pull over to the side of the road and exit the vehicle!"