15569/The Bird And The Tower

The Bird And The Tower
Date of Scene:	07 August 2023
Location:	Roof - Titan's Tower
Synopsis:	Tim drops by the tower for a status update, but it soon turns to friend therapy, puppies, and tidal waves.
Cast of Characters:	Terry O'Neil, Tim Drake, Gar Logan

---

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Summer is almost over. That is a relief for many, as this one has been particularly brutal, bright and hot. If you are covered in fur, it tends to hit you even harder. That's why Vorpal has a summer variant to his outfit, which he secretly labels "Suns Out, Guns Out Or Else I Die."

Right now, though, he is actually enjoying the bright, merciless sun. It's always enjoyable when you know that you are but one roll away from falling into a cool, refreshing pool. So he lays by the side of the pool in a red squarecut swimsuit, sunglasses over his eyes, and a satisfied grin. Hands behind his head, and his phone playing some chill tunes by an artist he's recently discovered ('Henry' by 'Soccer Mommy', if inquiring minds want to know).

This is the life.

Well, it is /a/ life. Not necessarily /the/, as other experiences are equally as valid, but for all senses and purposes, we will say that, for Terry, this is /the/ life, just as we might say that for this particular post this was an enormously long run-on sentence with a criminal number of comma splices.

He pulls his sunglasses down just a little, almost as if in response to our narrator's pointless rambling, and glances around the pool.

"Aah. This is the life." he mumbles, and leans his head back against the hot poolside, as if to settle the debate.

Tim Drake has posed:
    The last two times Tim was in Metropolis he came by traditional means. Read: ground transportation. Boring, pedestrian, but useful.

    Because those trips had ostensibly been for important social functions, like attending galas as the selected Wayne family representative of the night. Today, though, he comes by way of air, AKA the Outsiders jet that comes in low over Titans Tower so that Red Robin can drop down from the underhatch to land, light on his feet, on the rooftop.

    Even with the sun glaring down on him, he's in the whole red and black getup, cape flaring out to slow his descent and then, after, immediately wrapping around him once he's on solid footing. Despite the sudden drop-in, his reaction to Vorpal's presence on the roof is a perfectly pleasant, "Afternoon," and then his hand lifts for a cheeky wave. Before it sweeps through his hair, pushing it off his forehead for a moment.

    Yeah, it's hot out. And the suit, while well-ventilated, is still heavy armor, so it's bound to be uncomfortable in this heat.

    Also, most Bats are uncomfortable in direct sunlight. That's just a fact and Tim's no different.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Aircraft coming to the tower is a thing you get used to, when you're a Titan. Diana's invisible plane parked here once. The Milano *crashed* into the side of it. The Outsider Jet coming in doesn't raise the alerts, nor does it trigger the defense system, as it is registered as a friendly aircraft, so Vorpal's reaction is merely to flatten his ears at the sound, sit up and push his sunglasses to rest on top of his head.

As Tim touches the ground, he holds up a cardboard rectancle with '10' on it. "Bravo! A perfect landing all in all. Unfortunately the French judge gave 'nul points', but that's the French for you."

The scorecard vanishes in mid-air, and the cat hastily gets to his feet, half-walking and half-hopping the distance between him and Tim in a few seconds.

"What a lucky day! My favorite Robin drops by for a visit-" he pauses and glances at his suit, and then up at the sun, and then back down at him. "... how are you not dying of heat stroke? Do we need to get you inside where there's air conditioner? Do you have AC in that suit? I can get you a drink. I've got bubbly non-alcoholic stuff up there. You're making me overheat just by looking at you!"

Tim Drake has posed:
    The jet swans off on autopilot to who knows where (well, Tim does, of course) but no doubt it's somewhere close by, should he need to make a quick exit. And the Bats do love those ever so much. They've perfected the art of the disappearing act. God forbid any of them ever say something as trite as "goodbye" or "see you later" or anything like that.

    "Thank you," he says with a mock bow for his points total, and then Red Robin's forehead does a sort of furrowy thing that suggests some hidden movement of his eyebrows, beneath the domino mask.

    He looks down at himself, so indicated by the tilt of his chin nearly touching his chest, and then he shrugs with a half-self-conscious, "Uh, mostly willpower? I'm fine. No, no, there's a layer of cooling fabric on the inside so it's not completely awful."

    The offer of a drink earns a small smile, one that disappears quickly, and then a follow-up nod of agreement. He closes the distance between them somewhat and says, "Just here to make a social call. See what the Titans are up to, offer my assistance, maybe bother my brothers if any of them are in residence. Nothing exciting."

    Tim glances around the rooftop and then gestures to the poolside area where Vorpal was previously reclining. "Sorry to interupt your sunbathing."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Bah, I can sunbathe any time," Vorpal says dismissively, "You? I Don't get to see nearly half as much as I'd wanna. I don't think I've actually had a chance to talk to you since... well, since a bit before Bat-Dad took me for a hell-ride in his car and threatened to end me if I ever let The Secret out. You know, his way of saying 'hello.'"

The Cheshire gives Tim a grin and, plunging his hand into a small Rabbit Hole, he offers up a can of icy fruit-infused sparkling water. Lemon. "I haven't seen the 'wings around today, though that might change." He walks over to one of the tables and sits himself down at a chair, gesturing for Tim to join in. The parasols provide shade, something he suspects the Bat would welcome, even if he might never admit needing.

"We do probably need someone of your deductive powers to help. We're currently entangled with a riddle from Faerie-- four fairy treasures have been lost and merged with every-day objects in our world, and we apparently need to recover them before disaster strikes. You know, your usual stakes. We went to Venice to try to get clues at a fairy ball and Wally, Kian and Gar got themselves trapped in a magical sleep for *days*."

He says this last bit with a little smile, one that says 'someone got in trouble and it wasn't ME this time around!'

Tim Drake has posed:
    "He does that," Red Robin says, of Vorpal's misadventures with Bruce in the Batmobile. And is he smiling a little bit? Maybe. He knows what it's like, having been subjected to a fair bit of that intensity regarding secret identities when he was younger, a very new Batling without even his own codename yet.

    Is it a little messed up that he looks back at that time, and thus the association with Vorpal's experience, with nostalgia? Yeah, totally.

    The can of sparkling water is accepted with a genuine, grateful, "Thank you," and they're stepping into the shade, which is not quite the same as stepping into the shadows, but it holds some amount of familiarity nonetheless. He takes a seat and cracks open the can.

    Though before he can take a drink, Tim is fully distracted by mention of a potential mystery. He sits forward a little bit, mouth thinned into a line of concentration as he focuses on the story of fairy treasures.

    His only reaction at first is "Huh," but it's not any kind of surprise at the supernatural elements. No, he has enough experience with those not to be surprised. Instead he rubs his chin, contemplatively, and then asks, "Did you find any clues in Venice, then?"

    Yeah, Tim has been caught hook, line, and sinker. There's nothing like a good puzzle to solve to get his attention.

Gar Logan has posed:
Speaking of the wings, someone with green wings circles overhead and after a subtle change, descends. There's a glance toward both Vorpal and Red Robin - and suddenly burgers and bottomless fries come to mind - before a landing is made.

For Tim, it happens to be atop his head as a very green robin starts plucking at some of his hair. "Oh, this will make a great nest," says the bird, in a very Gar-like voice. Pluck, pluck, pluck.

"What's new, guys? Did I hear someone mention Venice?" he adds, his bird head turning nearly sideways.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Well, Jinx was able to get at something- the rest of us got entangled or bespelled. The fae are /tricky/, and they are technically my cousins." He clears his throat, then, sipping his bubbly water, "But... far removed. We in Wonderland consider them to be the /disgraceful/ side of the family. Still, you might want to come in when we have our team meeting and hear what Jinx has found ou---"

He watches as Gar makes his head atop Tim's head, and does a terrible job of disguising his amusement. "It looks like your birds have come home to roost... Garfield Logan, you are an absolute disgrace," he says with a fond smile. "We did, in fact, mention Venice. I did not mention the fact that you got trapped in a magical sleep by playing tonsil hockey with a fae, though." The grin widens.

Tim Drake has posed:
    As soon as Tim feels the additional weight on his head, he goes stock still, arms crossed over his chest. It's not hard to do, not with hours of practice on top of gargoyles or in shadowed corners under his belt, so it's only his eyes, hidden as they are, that continue to move.

    And right now they're vaguely cross-eyed, looking upwards in case he might be able to catch sight of who has landed on his head.

    "Nothing exciting going on in my life, nope," he says, the pop of that last p particularly noticeable. It's a bad attempt at lying, so it must be entirely intentional, given how the Bats tend to operate around the truth.

    He finally does move, if only to bring the can of bubbly water to his mouth to take a drink. Which does mean his head tips back a little, upsetting Gar's nest. "I'm entertaining the idea of coming on as a consultant, but the fae are definitely tricky. For a layperson like myself it's hard to separate fact from fiction, given how often they're the subjects of popular media."

Gar Logan has posed:
"Oh, yeah, I'm /so/ glad you didn't spill the beans about that plant fae tricking me by sneaking a strawberry - which I now hate, you should know - into my mouth," says the green robin, adjusting position to maintain his balance before deciding to end that particular charade and flit over to Vorpal's mop of hair instead. Pluck, pluck, pluck.

He adds, "Maybe I have a thing about fae-leaning types that's bad for me. But when it comes to the mysteries they've got for us to solve, I dunno how much help I'll be. My knowledge is in other areas."

If a bird can look like it's crossing its wings to mimic Red Robin's arms-crossed stance, that's what Gar is doing right this moment. "And I can tell all's not quite right in Robbo's world."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Maybe you do. I don't blame you," Vorpal says to Gar, "I happen to know I am positively irresistible. You stood no chance." That's his story and he's sticking to it, deciding to glide over the fact that their courtship- if it could have been called that- consisted of five months of neither of them admitting they had feelings for each other with such dedication that it took the combined elbow grease of Lois Lane, Colette and one Harley Quinn before the subject was ever broached.

"Consultant, ally, friend, you are welcome any time, Rob- but the green one is right." He leans forward, resting his chin on his hand and glancing at Tim, potentially upsetting Gar's nest, "I know we don't talk often, but I hope you know you /can/ talk to us. I am not as wise as Donna or as huggy as Kori," nobody is as huggy as Kori, "But I do have my moments. What's troubling you?"

Tim Drake has posed:
    Tim's expression remains sort of a flat affect, which is mostly just old habits dying hard. On the inside he's definitely amused at Gar and Vorpal's antics with each other, but grim, dispassionate Red Robin can't be seen admitting to anything like that, can he?

    No, no. It'd ruin his image!

    So of course his lips do a faint wibble and he looks off to the side, he's totally trying to reign it in. Play it cool. But he has to admit that they're right, so he acknowledges the point with a tip of his head.

    "Bad breakup, is all. Not a big deal... it'd just been a couple years, you know? Thought it was serious." Tim blows out a breath at the admission and he shifts uncomfortably in the chair he's seated in, the whole topic clearly not something he wants to dwell on.

    Because immediately he goes on to ask, "So, where can we start with the investigation? If Venice was a dead end, maybe it's best to go back to square one, start over. I can do some research too, maybe? See what the dark web has to offer up."

Gar Logan has posed:
Once again altering his balance, the robin just happens to swat at one of Vorpal's ears with a wing. Surely accidental. Surely.

"Whatever," is all Gar has to say about the teasing before he turns more of his focus to Red Robin. Ohhh, one of those things. "Well, I'm afraid I don't have a lot of grand advice when it comes to that, just that for a while I was lucky to even /have/ the chance for someone to break up with me. So, you know, get right back out there and go back on the hunt or something. Or don't. Whatever works for you."

Finally, he tires of the fake supply run for nesting materials, hopping off Vorpal's head to land as himself a few feet away, in costume. The red and white with the forearm sleeves and such. "On the other hand, letting you get in on the investigation could be a good distraction, and good for all of us besides." He jerks a thumb Vorpal's way, for him to take point on the sharing of info. "He'll get you up to speed. I was, after all, in the deep sleep for a while. Weirdest thing, too. They had us believing we were writing a comic book about us the whole time."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Vorpal glances at Gar, and then at Tim. Eyebrow goes up. "If it's a bad breakup, by definition it is kind of a big deal. And you're a Bat, so of course your modeled coping mechanism is to bury yourself up to your neck in work so that you don't have to deal with all of the messy emotions that otherwise interfere with your day-to-day To Do list. Eventually letting ig work away into your subconscious so that you end up embracing the de-facto assumption that relationships and Bat-work aren't compatible and you start practicing your grimace in front of the mirror so it becomes second nature."

The cat waits a few seconds, before doing the follow-up. "If I am getting any of this wrong, you know, you can tell me. Otherwise I'm going to suggest that we, in fact, treat it as a big deal. You don't need to talk about what happened... but it's ok to tell us how you feel and just... hang out with your friends."

His smile curls into a little smirk, 'And I know I just pronounced some bat-heresy there."

Tim Drake has posed:
    "To be fair," Tim points out, and he does in fact lift a finger to point upwards, "My natural habit is to bury myself up to my neck in work. It's not a coping mechanism, at this point it's just a personality trait."

    He downs the rest of his sparkling water in a couple of quiet gulps, because it is in fact still quite warm in his suit, despite the shade. The ambient temperature isn't enough to really get to him, after all aside for the lack of brood-worthy cloud cover that Gotham has, Metropolis's weather isn't all that different. They're not geographically all that far from each other.

    Which means Red Robin is mostly just sweating a little bit, but is otherwise okay. You know, physically. Emotionally is a whole different thing, though. "I'm fine, really. It could've been worse."

    Whether or not this is more Bat-bullshittery goes unsaid.

    Instead, Tim says, "I miss his dog, though."

Gar Logan has posed:
Gar Logan digs around in his phone before holding up something. It's the meme. Yes, that meme of the character in the burning room. "This kind of fine, or a different kind of fine?" he wonders. In light of the moment being what it is, it's understandable that Vorpal doesn't yet get into the details of the fae matter. That can wait a few.

"You know, I've spent a little time as an emotional support animal with trauma kids. You wouldn't believe how quickly they forget bad stuff for a little while when they see something like this."

'This' being the cutest little green puppy you ever did see, bounding over toward Red Robin with tail a-waggin', paws outstretched, tongue lolling out. And a few barks. "Ball? You can even throw it over the side of the roof! I'll be fine!"

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Vorpal grins and manifests a glowing purple ball in his hand, and he tosses it over for Tim to catch. "For crying out loud..." he glances around, before using the Real Name very quietly: "Tim. This is ridiculous. You're melting in that suit. Why don't you go change and have Gar lend you a swimsuit or something. Keep the mask, Nightwing's done the pool in mask many times. You can splash into the pool and you can play fetch with Guppy over here." Bad poramentau of Gar and Puppy, since Gar CAN become a guppy if he so desires.

He leans back on his chair and taps his nose, "Cheshire's honor, nobody is gonna tell Bats on you."

Tim Drake has posed:
    The dog in the burning room meme has Tim laughing, or well... snorting a few times to himself, really. Outright laughing would be too boisterous for his whole shtick. He does nod along to confirm that, yeah, it's that kind of fine, but that kind of fine... is fine?

    "I'm dealing with it," he says, hopefully in a convincing tone of voice.

    He still manages to keep himself composed when Gar-puppy comes over, but inside he's probably squealing, judging by the twitches to the corners of his mouth that he is gamely suppressing. He catches the ball Vorpal tosses to him, and then does indeed yeet it across the rooftop (but not off) so that Gar can go fetch. "Thanks for indulging me. I'll go change, just give me a few. Don't worry, I packed my Bat-shorts."

    In fact he did not, that is a lie. He's going to go steal something of Dick's instead. Because what are brothers for?

Gar Logan has posed:
BALL!

There is nothing else now, just ball.

Even with his human intelligence, Gar is susceptible to the power of the ball. Or, it could all just be an act to up the cute factor. It doesn't take much with him sometimes, especially with some of his own personal demons inside.

Naturally, he peels off toward the ball after Vorpal's lobbed it over to Red Robin and it's tossed elsewhere. Chomp on the ball, with an audible squeak, and he plays at worrying it back and forth a few times in the midst of bringing it back, adding a little 'grrrr' in for good measure.

Oh, he's seen the shift in body language, the grin that threatens to spread.

Upon dropping the ball, he offers, "I heard a rumor that Batman taps into our camera feed just so he can keep watch over more than just Gotham, but like I said, that's just a rumor."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Garfield Logan, don't you go and stress him out. You?" He gestures to Tim, "Get. Go. Change. I'll keep Gar entertained." He summons several balls and throws them all in a different direction. They are bouncy balls, so they will go quite aways, all over the place.

The mention that Tim brought his own Bat-shorts gets a chuckle out of the cat. "Man... they *do* pack everything in those utility belts, don't they?"

Tim Drake has posed:
    Off he goes! For real! Tim waves over his shoulder as he disappears into Titans Tower, probably for a bit longer than he needs to be gone for. He's not quite snooping, just having a quick tour, noting where Dick and Damian's rooms are (for later brotherly tomfoolery) before effecting a quick-change.

    He's definitely wearing a pair of shorts he pilfered from Nightwing's room, no doubt about that, but he's pinned them up somewhat so that it almost fits him. Good enough, at least, for when he drops back into the chair he'd abandoned. And yes, still wearing the mask. "I can't risk tanning because then they'll know I was somewhere other than Gotham," he points out as he sinks back into the shade.

Gar Logan has posed:
"It doesn't take much to hide a pair of shorts like that in--" Oh, it's multiball time! Good for pinball, good for fetch!

The green puppy also known as Gar tears off after a couple of them, then one does indeed bounce up and over the railing to descend toward the surface below. Gar leaps after it, "Barroooooooooo!" It fades out, the embodiment of the Doppler Effect.

That would probably be the rainbow road for the typical dog, but this is anything but.

Of course, there's nothing to worry about here. In due time, a green seagull rises with the ball in its beak, giving a good 'ptooie!' as he drops it in Vorpal's general vicinity. "You're lucky I'm versatile."

Not long after, he sees Tim returning and covers his eyes with a wing. "Blind! I've gone blind!" Something Vorpal's no doubt heard before, as Terry.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Oh, lay off him, he's perfectly /fine/, Gar." Vorpal rolls his eyes. As Terry, he is about as pale as Tim. Or more. He's not going to transform so they can compare skin tones or else people will see the glare at the top of the tower and say that Gondor calls for aid. He snaps his fingers and his magic snaps around the other tables, animating the parasols -except the one they're under- and causing them to float over the pool in a tight flock, blocking out a square of light from the water.
"There you go, Boy Wonder. You can splash without tanning." He grins and crosses a leg over a knee, "What would you do without me? Please don't answer that, my feelings get hurt easily."

Tim Drake has posed:
    "What?" Red Robin asks, and then looks down at himself again, a frown crossing his expression as he doesn't see anything off about his--"Oh. Yeah. It's all the Gotham gloom, I don't see the sun except for two days during the summer and then everyone's out in public so I try to stay inside anyway."

    He flashes Vorpal a smile and sits down on the edge of the pool, legs in the water, as a precursor to him slipping fully in and sinking under the surface. When he pops back up, it's directly centered in that square of shade. "Thanks. I needed this," he says, and his tone is sincere, grateful.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"I knew that, Boy Wonder," Vorpal grins, finishing his can of fizzy water before padding over to the pool and sitting by the pool-side, watching his friend. "This isn't my first rodeo. By this point I think I have an associate's degree on being able to read the mood of moody sweet guys." He gives Gar a playful glance, before turning back to look at Tim. "Now, where were we? Oh, yes."

Another glowing ball. "Gar, fetch!"

He throws the ball at the pool, in Tim's general direction.

Gar Logan has posed:
Would it be any surprise that as the ball sails toward the pool, fortunately not quite good enough to be too close to the umbrellas and shade for Tim, the Gargull (Gargle?) wings it over that way and comes splashing down as a hippo, thus creating a localized tidal wave of sizable proportions?

No, it wouldn't be a surprise at all.

"Cowabungaaaaa!"

Tim Drake has posed:
    All that Tim has time to say is "Well, crap," before he's swept up in the tidal wave that Gar, as a hippo, creates.

    He washes up on the rooftop like a piece of driftwood and stares up at the bright, bright sun for a second or two until the lenses in his domino mask automatically adjust for the ambient light, dimming it significantly. Then he tilts his head up to look, upside down, at Vorpal. "I probably should have seen that coming," he decides.