15508/It Loves Company

It Loves Company
Date of Scene:	31 July 2023
Location:	Bleake Island
Synopsis:	Jon Kent and Gabby Kinney join Tim Drake and Phoebe Beacon as the latter two drown their break-ups in ice cream
Cast of Characters:	Phoebe Beacon, Tim Drake, Jon Kent, Gabby Kinney

---

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    ONE FELL SCOOP, a weirdly Scottish Play themed ice cream bar, where you could order MacDeath by Chocolate, Lady MacDeath by Chocolate (which had cherry sauce that *WILL* stain your hands and make it difficult to wash off), their Banana Split dish was called the Weird Sisters due to the three different flavor scoops and three different sauces, and of course they have all the normal flavors and doings of a home-made ice cream shop.

    And after rumor has it has been played, a note went out to a bunch of the "known folks":

    Ice Cream; coordinates to follow.

    Of course, the coordinates lead to this dourly named restaurant, which in spite of the name is actually a very nice and pleasant retro interrior with comfortable, high booths that help keep conversation down.

    In one of those booths, indicated by the now meticiulously-kept up 1970's cafe racer parked in the lot, was Phoebe Beacon, her pink hair hidden beneath a skull-covered black hair wrap, a gray tee shirt with the Wayne Enterprises logo on the chest a'la a certain Super family, and a pair of ripped jeans, and she is nursing quite possibly the largest raspberry ice cream milkshake in New Jersey.

Tim Drake has posed:
    AND IN THIS CORNER (aka the other side of the booth) is one Tim Drake-Wayne, still in his suit from his not-quite-daily grind at Wayne Enterprises, though his jacket is nowhere to be seen, his tie is loosened, and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. He's all up in a MacDeath by Chocolate ("My life would be so much easier if it were a Shakespearian tragedy"), spoon poised at the ready for another bite.

    One little problem, though: brain freeze.

    He has one eye squeezed shut, while the other waters, and his nose is wrinkled up into an all-too-familiar grimace to anyone that has suffered the same debilitating frozen treat prompted issue he is currently facing. The spoon is carefully set down and then he covers his face with both hands, letting out a quiet groan as he shoves his tongue to the roof of his mouth.

    He does not open his eyes. Not even when the pain has faded into nothingness. He just sits there in that pose, back curved as he leans against the table, and lets out a few mumbling grumble sort of sounds. Hoooo boy.

Jon Kent has posed:
Jon was on campus tutoring some of the summer semester students. He *really* needs the money, plus it checks off the Help Others box nicely enough. He was wrapping up and just getting ready to fly back to Kansas when he received Phoebe's message. Does he fly into Gotham? That's a good question. Rumor has it that Batman does *not* like metahumans in his town and that he has one of the largest collections of kryptonite in the world. Hyperloop it is, followed by a bus out to Bleake Island. The result is it takes one of the fastest guys in the world 45 minutes to get there.

He walks into the place, peering around, pushing his glasses up his nose. Then he notices Phoebe with...hello! who is that? He starts to move in that direction and bumps a table accidentally, sending some flatware and an empty cup onto the floor.

"I'm so sorry," he says to the people sitting at the table. He scoots down to pick up the items and his backpack -- which is slung over one shoulder -- slips and hits the table, sending two more pieces of flatware and a plate onto the floor. The plate breaks. "Oh my gosh, I'm *really* sorry. My fault."

Jon picks up the items assisted by a busboy who comes (probably to make sure Jon doesn't destroy the rest remaining supply of forks, spoons, glasses, plates, etc. in the restaurant).

Looking thoroughly flushed and embarrassed, Jon approaches the table where Phoebe and Tim are sitting. He clears his throat. "H-hi, Phoebe." Then he looks to Tim and extends a hand. "Hi. I'm Jon. Jon Kent."

Gabby Kinney has posed:
While Jon is busy picking up broken plates with the busboy, another figure enters having received the text. It took Gabby a bit to hop over from New York but... It wasn't as if she had anything else going on currently. Hopping from one place to another was fairly easy, and it HAD been awhile since she hung out with these friends. Perhaps a bit too long.

Dressed in denim shorts, and a loose button up shirt with the trailing ends left unbuttoned around her hips, the sleeves rolled up, she looks a bit like someone who might, just might, have rolled out of bed and grabbed their boyfriend's shirt in their haste. Of course it WAS her shirt. It just looked big on her because that's how she bought them. All the better to hide weapons if necessary.

So she comes up behind Jon while he introduces himself to Tim, and just flumps her head on his shoulder with tongue sticking out at the seated pair. "Hey Pheebs, hey Timbo. Jonny-boy," she adds before just yawning a bit. "Please tell me they have coffee icecream?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    ("You have action, insanity, ghosts, and a competant butler, and pretty sure we've all died at least once. Dub-Shakes would be like 'bruh'.")

    Phoebe looks up as a bespectacled boy comes in, and introduces himself. HEr eyebrows draw up, and then her eyes narrow as she raises a finger, and then he strikes a busboy. The plate breaks, but there's a little glimmer of light that makes sure it doesn't get into anyone's food or ankles!

    "Oh! /Jon Kent/!" Phoebe states, and she sits up, and motions over to Tim.

    "That's Tim Drake, my adopted brother. You know Gabby." she states, pointing to Gabby as she joins them, "We're... ah... well 'celebrating' isn't the right word. Commiserating. Today." she halting states, and realizes just how awkward that sounds.

    And she deflates a bit, looks to Tim, and then gives a shrug. She'll let him illuminate, if he so wishes.

    "So I kinda prepaid for ice cream for the next couple hours."

Tim Drake has posed:
    Still with his face in his hands, Tim doesn't even peek between his fingers at the sudden sound of falling flatware and breaking plates nearby. Some great situational awareness there, for sure. Or maybe he just doesn't care.

    Judging by the general air of malaise being exuded at this booth right now, it's probably that second one.

    It isn't until someone is clearly introducing themselves to him that Tim's hands finally fall away, to reveal the faded remnants of a black eye and a healing cut on his jaw. He looks like he's been put through the ringer, but a few days past by now, so the lingering effects are probably more annoying than painful at this point. Still, the shiner makes him a little squinty as he looks up at Jon, then looks over at Phoebe, then back at Jon while introductions are made.

    Somehow it's almost visible, the gears turning away in his head.

    "Hey, Jon." He does a sort of half-rise from his seat, boxed in as he is by the table and the booth back, but enough to be prim and proper as he takes Jon's offered hand and gives it a firm shake.

    Well, firm by Gotham business standards. Not by Kryptonian standards.

    And then there's Gabby, who earns a wan smile from Tim. Then he scoots over, offering the space next to him to whoever would like to take it. "Yeah, pretty sure they do Gabs. The whole menu's available to both of you, order whatever you want." He pointedly does not detail why they are having an emotional ice cream sesh. Instead he takes another big spoonful of his sundae and shoves it into his mouth.

    Cue another brain freeze. Tim really can't win today.

Jon Kent has posed:
"Oh," Jon says when he sees the condition of Tim's face. "Oh!" Clearly he is one who does not enjoy the effects (or after effect) of suffering.

Now on the subject of shaking a Kryptonian's hand, even one who is undercover, it is...an experience that no amount of secret identity guarding can completely cover up. First, he radiates considerably more body heat than a human, like he was with fever. And secondly, though he applies only the minutest amount of force there is still the sensation of shaking a hand that has so little give or pliability.

But Jon can cover this up: He quickly sits down on Phoebe's side of the booth, which relieves poor Gabby of her head perch, and puts his head in his hands, looking dizzy or ill. "I'm sorry...the black eye...it makes me feel woozy." He grabs any glass of water on the table and starts to quickly drink it. "Oh I'm sorry. My tummy." Yes, he said tummy.

He glances up at Gabby. "Hey, Gabby," he says weakly. But she might catch a tiny, playful glimmer in Jon's eyes. Sometimes, just sometimes, he really enjoys hamming up the part of Jon Kent. Here sits someone who surely numbers among the most powerful heroes in the world, and who would ever suspect a thing?

Gabby Kinney has posed:
Gabby Kinney almost keels to the side when Jon slips away but she catches herself with one arm sticking out to windmill her balance back up properly. With Tim looking like that she does wake up just a bit more seeing him in such a state. The obvious offer of scooting over has her take up that side next to him. A little nudge is given to his arm with her elbow. "Want to talk about it? Or should we go beat up some punching bags later?" Given the pre-paid icecream fest though... It was probably more an attempt at comforting versus needing to vent.

"I want a coffee icecream banana float with tons of hot chocolate on it," she declares. "And strawberries." Because why not just add everything you like onto icecream? I mean, seriously. It seemed a good idea to her!

Her glance flits over to Phoebe with a questioning raise of eyebrow, and a quick dart of her gaze to the side at Tim again. Phoebe likely knew what was up. As for Jon, he just gets a good natured roll of her eyes and a little kick against his leg from under the table. She knew he was hamming it up.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Offer is *still* open to remove his kneebaps." Phoebe states dryly, sipping her raspberry float, chasing the commentary about punching bags. "And has been for two years." She purses her lips, and looks to Jon as he sits next to her, and she gives a wan smile to him. "Im tur- ech- eithel i hend an cin." she adds in Elvish to Tim. Nerds.

    The waitress takes the new order, and looks over to Jon with a small smile, "And for you?"

    "Can we also get a pair of coffees for the adults on the inside of the booth?" Phoebe asks, motioning to herself and Tim, clearly joking.

Tim Drake has posed:
    Jon's reaction to seeing his face would probably upset some people, but Tim only cracks the tiniest smile. Is he seeing through the facade, or is he just applying some dark humor to the whole situation? Who knows. But he seems unphased, either way, even shooting a vaguely concerned look, dark eyebrows drawn together, Jon's way.

    Tim doesn't linger on the topic. The less said of it all, the better.

    "Nah, I think I've punched enough things recently," he says to Gabby. And it seems to be the truth, judging by the state of his knuckles. Which is unusual, because the Bats do tend to wear gloves on patrol. Out of all of them, Tim is the least likely to be out bare-knuckle boxing. He purses his lips as he looks over to Phoebe and it almost, almost looks like he wants to accept her offer. But the Elvish makes him laugh and shake his head, some of the moody cloud surrounding him dissipating.

    He looks up when the waitress approaches their table. Which is definitely not how the service in this restaurant works usually, but it's clear that "prepaying for ice cream" meant a significant amount of money was exchanged. With two Wayne heirs in the place, well... that's probably a given.

    "Do you have cream and sugar?" At the waitress's confirmation that they do, he nods once and then pushes his sundae away from himself. It's mostly eaten, anyway, with only soupy ice cream liquid remaining. Anyway, a coffee sounds like a great idea right now.

    (Of course, coffee always sounds like a great idea to Tim.)

    "So Jon, this your first time in Gotham?" Tim asks, leaning back in the booth while looking crossways towards him.

Jon Kent has posed:
Something unseen causes Jon to smirk at Gabby -- he was, of course, just kicked under the table. And then at the approach of the waitress, Jon perks quickly enough. Seems like ice cream will cure what ails ya. He glances over a piece of paper that lists the various items available here. "Um...this sounds good. Tartan Feathered sundae, criss-crossed chocolate and strawberry syrup covered in flaked almonds over cinnamon ice cream." He nods and looks up at the waitress, giving her one of his patented broad smiles.

Then to Tim: "Uh, well, I've been to your house quite a bit. I hang out with Damian pretty frequently. But other than that, no, I don't get out to Gotham much. Really busy with school and family. My dad, Clark Kent, keeps me pretty busy." Now, Kent is a pretty commonplace name (as is Wayne, for that matter). But Jon sends out a signal by naming his dad, in case Tim is part of the organization that Jon suspects he is.

Gabby Kinney has posed:
"That," Gabby states pointing a finger at Jon, "Sounds amazing and I'm stealing a bite." At least she's up front about her soon-to-be icecream theft. Cinnamon icecream? That was a new one to her but it's cinnamon so how wrong could it possibly be? She shifts to prop her chin up on her hand letting her gaze flit between the two elvish speakers with a little groan. "This was not on the 'need to know' language spreadsheet," she teases back not sure what they said. At least it seemed to cheer Tim up.

A glance at his knuckles earns a small frown though, and she draws a deep breath. "Yeah, and Jon's a friend of mine, too, though I haven't really dragged him out to Gotham much. Now Tim," she states in a ton of voice that seems oh-so-serious. Her lips purse as she pauses in what she might say.

Her voice drops very low, "Did your boyfriend hurt you? Because... seriously... We can go have 'words' about that."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe gives a snort at Tim having punched through things. "Just make sure you at least put neo and wrap them after a shower, right? You can't type or tinker if you're bleeding out through your knuckles. And I'll be pi--" she looks over to Jon, and deflates a little bit "... kinda angry if that happens." she warns, curtailing her language for Jon's sake.

    but at Gabby's question, she looks to Tim, and she just picks up her straw and partakes in that raspberry milkshake of her own broken heart.

    "Your call to say what happened if you want. Otherwise I can wax tragic about me."

    The waitress returns with the coffees and a refill of waters, and a small pile of sugars and creamers. Phoebe takes her coffee black and slides the other cup over to Tim.

Tim Drake has posed:
    "Ohhh, you're Damian's friend," Tim says, as if this is totally new information and he has no awareness of the Super-Sons. Maybe he doesn't, after all, who's to say he keeps up with his little brother's social life?

    The answer is of course that Tim is an inveterate snoop.

    He rests his chin against his fist as one corner of his mouth lifts at the name-drop. "I think he and Bruce have encountered one another a few times," is his suggestion-slash-acknowledgment of the shared secret they are dancing around. Of course he doesn't include Bruce's last name. What other Bruce could he possibly be talking about, in Gotham?

    "I don't live in the Manor any more, to be honest. I have my own place in town, easier on the commute to work."

    He makes an entirely childish grabby hands motion when the waitress arrives, and then his hands wrap around the warm mug pushed towards him. Not for long, though, because soon enough he's doctoring it up with sugar and lots of cream. Which is extra, for him. But he's decided it's an extra kind of day.

    The spoon Tim's using to stir his coffee knocks quietly against the sides of his mug before he pulls it out and sets it aside, saying, "It's fine, nothing you need to worry about," to Gabby, companionably bumping shoulders with her before he just shakes his head at Phoebe. "There's no point getting into it. It's over."

    That last word is said with some finality and a frown, but then Tim's eyes drop and he stares down at his coffee. Wordlessly, he takes a sip, mouth innured to too-hot temperatures from many, many attempts to guzzle down delicious bean juice before it's cooled.

Jon Kent has posed:
Tell your tablemate that you're Superboy without telling your tablemate that you're Superboy. Check.

When his sundae is delivered to the table, Jon politely thanks the waitress. Then he slides it to Gabby for First Dibs since she mentioned stealing a bite. Save your friends from stealing by just giving them what they want!

He flashes a playful grin to Phoebe when she stops herself mid-sentence. "Good thing! I was gonna charge you with the swear jar, ya know. It was gonna be my Hyperloop ticket back to Metropolis." Jon peers around. "Why are we...why are we the only table being served by a waitress." He blinks a few times, then looks at Phoebe, then looks at Tim, then looks at Phoebe, then looks at Tim. "Oh. OH!" His cheeks redden a bit with embarrassment.

Gabby Kinney has posed:
"Ah," Gabby responds simply at the finality of the way he says 'it's over.' "Sorry." Another light bump is offered back toward Tim. Consolation by bodily impact. It's a thing. Really, it is, she swears.

The arrival of icecreams though has her waggling her spoon toward Jon's sundae which she reaches out to take a liiitle bit of trying to at least get some of all the flavors on her spoon. It's tucked into her mouth, and she nudges her own coffee chocolate concoction toward him to offer a similar treatment. It was only fair after all.

"Sho. You both are singlets again now," she states giving Phoebe a sympathetic look as well. "I ran into Robbie awhile back and he mentioned. Sorry," she adds.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Because the last time I came here someone grabbed my butt and I kinda laid them out with an undercut that their grandkids are gonna feel. So whenever I come in here, I prepay a ridiculous amount because it's worth not seeing the headline 'Wayne Kid Gets into Fight in Ice Cream Parlor - Again'." Phoebe replies, and her cheeks darken a moment, bristling as she looks over to Gabby.

    "Well. You found out before I did then." she mutters, and her shoulders tense. "I got the text last Thursday. I figure he was busy with his brother and his night job." Her eyes soften a bit, and she stirs her milkshake with the brightly colored straw.

    "So. Yeah. Commiserating break-ups with ice cream. It's truly the most American of things. I'll hit the 'eat frosting directly from the jar on the kitchen counter' when I head back to the Curio tonight."

    Phoebe's lips purse. "Iiiiiii don't think Alfred would appreciate chocolate fingerprints all over the counter."

Tim Drake has posed:
    Now that it's been established who they are both with and without the masks, metaphorically speaking (Tim still doesn't understand how any of the Kents get away with not wearing one) it's time for more dour discussions.

    At least Tim's has already been covered and dismissed with some finality. He knocks his coffee mug lightly against Phoebe's and then takes another scalding sip that he doesn't so much as wince at. It might not be the fancy custom blend that Tim is familiar with, but coffee is coffee, and this stuff is decent.

    "Basically, we're a little spoiled," Tim says for Jon's benefit. Emphasis on the 'little' there.

    He makes an unhappy noise as Phoebe goes into her own relationship woes, offering her a sympathetic look from over the rim of his mug. Though for the time being he doesn't speak up, because sometimes you just gotta wallow.

    And he's definitely wallowing. They both are, hence the ice cream. Since Jon and Gabby have their own frozen treats sitting in front of them now, maybe it's time for a change of topic. Tim considers this as he nurses his coffee, and then sets his mug down with some determination.

    "So," he says, forcing his tone to be light and breezy with not even a hint of melancholy, "Did you know that the first recorded usage of OMG dates all the way back to 1917?"

    There. Random-obscure-trivia-as-icebreaker. Tim sits back, pleased with himself and his utter nerdery.

Gabby Kinney has posed:
"What." Gabby stares across at Phoebe looking stricken and perplexed all at once. The mouthful of icecream is gulped down as she considers for a few moments just how to respond to that. Mostly by lifting her hand and ticking off fingers as she strives to recall when she last spoke with him. "But that was like... a couple months ago? Did you guys get back together in the meantime?" Man she's so lost. A sigh is huffed out as her head shakes again. "Man I don't even know anymore. I'm sorry," she offers simply and sincerely.

At least up until Tim breaks out that little tidbit of information. An eyebrow lifts and she deadpans, "Where the heck did you learn that?" Maybe Jon was rubbing off a bit with the whole 'heck' usage.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "It became official." Phoebe states quietly to Gabby's question, "was kinda hoping we'd find the time to talk stuff out, you know? But hey. Not the first time I've been ghosted." she goes to finger-gun with a grimace and reference to the first guy she dated a while, and she shrugs her shoulder.

    At the bit of trivia and then snap-points at Tim.

    "Telegram regarding the Great War, wasn't it?" she asks, relieved to force a segway away from her painfully awkward self.

Tim Drake has posed:
    "Probably the same place Phoebe learned it," Tim answers, when Pheebs gets it in one. He winks at her as he warms his fingers up from ice cream consumption by hugging them around his coffee mug, elbows resting just barely on the edge of the table. It's not exactly high society manners, but they're in an ice cream parlour, it'll probably be okay.

    "So you've heard our sob stories already." Then Tim adds a necessary, "More or less," given that he wasn't exactly forthcoming on his end. All of this is lead-in just to ask: "What about you two?"

    He looks from Gabby to Jon, eyebrows lifting. "Anything interesting going on with you?" He smiles, and it's genuine. "Gabs, I know you've been busy."

Gabby Kinney has posed:
THAT question causes Gabby's eyes to droop just a little bit. Busy indeed. Her spoon pokes into her icecream a time or two helping to smoosh some of the hot chocolate that was no longer hot into the coffee icecream part. A little swirl, and scoop has a spoonful soon loaded up. "Well..." she drawls.

"Every heard of Black Eyed Children?"

The spoon lifts up to pop into her mouth munching on with a rather worn out, tired expression. She had come in looking very sleepy too. A quick gulp and lick of her lips leaves her able to talk once again without accidentally spitting icecream everywhere while she does.

"Ran into a cadre of them the other week while investigating some rumors down south. They, uh." Her hand rakes fingers back through her hair resting against her scalp as she stares into her icecream. "Psychic attacks. All at once. The other guy that was there is a vegetable now, and my nose was bleeding so much." Looking back up she flashes as quick a grin as she can to reassure them. "I've got a telepath friend helping me to smooth things over a bit so I can recover more. Sleep's been a bit hard since then though."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe's face goes from a bit of a laugh at Tim's acknowledgement, to Gabby and Jon as he asks if anything's been up in their lives.

    And her face definitely flattens when Gabby mentions Black Eyed Chicldren. She shifts her weight, and her hands drop, her eyes going to the table, then back to Gabby.

    "Is the other guy being treated by anyone? I was able to get Diana up after she suffered an attack. I might be able to help." she replies quietly, "... if they're not in the care of ... y'know. The other team." she adds quietly, and begins to fidgit. She takes out a jointed slug from her bookbag and begins to toy with it under the table to keep her hands occupied.

Tim Drake has posed:
    Tim's expression shifts from an almost performative pleasantness to an outright grimace as Gabby's story unfolds. He shakes his head a little bit to indicate his lack of knowledge on the subject, given its supernatural origins, but he does say, "I've read about them on some of the forums I lurk on."

    So he knows enough to understand, maybe. That plus his ability to understand things from context clues helps him out in situations like these, where the Bats might otherwise be out of their depths.

    He smooths his hands down his thighs, but it's the only anxious motion he allows himself. Unlike Phoebe who has a fidget toy, Tim just forces himself to sit still, which is a testament to both the willpower so commonly attributed to the Bats... as well as their general emotional constipation.

    But that's unimportant, in this moment. He turns slightly in the booth seat so that he can be facing Gabby more head-on. "If there's anything we can do... you know the Waynes have access to some of the best medical care in the world, and I'm more than happy to find a specialist." It's not much of an offer given Gabby's situation, but it's the least he can do, and that much is obvious in the concern on his face.

Gabby Kinney has posed:
Gabby Kinney grimaces a bit at the offers of help. Not because she didn't appreciate them but because... "It's too late," she murmers quietly. "Apparently, from what I've read on them as well, the people who are known to have 'invited them in' usually end up with cancer, or worse, and dying quickly." A little breath is let out blowing some hair out of her face.

"His case as a bit advanced. The CDC actually quarantined him thinking he had a new strain of flesh eating bacteria, or been exposed to high levels of radiation. So being a bit braindead was probably the best thing that could have happened at that point." Another stab of her spoon comes. "... Thank you though. I just. It was too late. Poor guy."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    THe noise of plastic on plastic stops. And then it taps against Tim's knee. A glow-in-the-dark, rainbow, jointed stress slug offered to him. Because for all her other flaws, Phoebe's inability to keep her emotions to herself sometimes manifest in the best ways when she's trying to be kind.

    "I see." she states, and her shoulders go lax. "I... guess that's that then." she murmurs softly.

    and she raises her wrist.

    "I should get going. Idu has been getting antsy about his afternoon runs." she states, hopping up to climb over the back of the booth and to the empty booth, rather than making Jon get up.

    "Enjoy the ice cream, all!"