16570/A Most Curio-us Breakfast

A Most Curio-us Breakfast
Date of Scene:	14 December 2023
Location:	Apartment 3A (Phoebe's Apartment)
Synopsis:	Damian joins Phoebe for a vegan-safe breakfast at the Curio, in Phoebe's home-away-from-manor.
Cast of Characters:	Phoebe Beacon, Damian Wayne

---

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    The Curio is a Curious Building to begin with. It wasn't constructed in Gotham City. There's no record of its existence, no permits or paperwork, just a brick tenement building that one day appeared where there was an empty lot. Its dumpster in the back alley is labeled for New York City's Clinton borough. Its construction? 1920's. British. Liverpuddlian in fact.

    The lobby was decorated for the holidays with snowflakes, some ornaments, candles and a Menorah. A Yule log and basket of fruit in offerings.

    3A is not as decorated as the lobby. There is a two-foot tall prelit fir with small bulbs on it, with people's names carefully written in Phoebe's handwriting, topped with a slightly worn Santa hat.

    And Phoebe is in the tiny kitchen, wearing a pair of blue slippers with foxes on them, care bear pajama pants and an open hoodie showing a promo T-shirt for the Gotham City Museum of Antiquities and an oversized sweatshirt that kind of smells like burning metal.

Damian Wayne has posed:
Damian knows that Phoebe had extended the offer for him - and Gabby - to move in. He had declined the offer, figuring that Gabby would give him the clue-by-four when she's ready for that step. But Phoebe is one of his favorite siblings to visit.

Slightly lower than Dick. Little higher than Tim. More than Jason.

She fits in there somewhere.

"It's looking nice, Phoebe!" he calls out after he arrives, the young man dressed against the Gotham winter. Long woolen coat and gloves. Beneath is a cable-knit sweater, jeans, and semi-dress shoes.

Then he sniffs the air. "You're ruining the tofurkey bacon." That said, he considers. "Or you took up welding."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Wrong on both counts." Phoebe calls back to Damian with a smile. "And a complement, first thing? This is a Good Day." she returns a joke as she moves a platter of sliced fruit to the 'breakfast bar' on the other side of the window in the kitchen that leads out to the living room. "How are the roads outside? I ran into some sleet coming into the manor this morning." she explains. How'd she get from the Manor to her apartment?

    ~*~Magic~*~.

Damian Wayne has posed:
"If you don't think I don't know you're wearing your boyfriend's hoodie, you must really have no faith in my abilites as a detective." Damian responds dryly as he snorts amusedly at Pheobe's good day comment. "Everyday is a good day. Just ask my girlfriend."

With that, he turns his attention to setting down the small box of groceries - mostly fresh fruit and veggies - that he had brought over. "Alfred told me to bring these to you. Something about better vitamins with smoothies?" he asks as he takes a seat. "Roads are turning to the usual trash at this time of year. Gotham Public Works is running behind. Glad I could take some side streets to get here."

But really, the box? That was a red herring, to get Damian here. Why? "How'd the mission in Egypt go?" he asks finally. "Saw the reinforcmenets arrived after I left." A pauses. "Sorry for leaving you with that."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Yeah, unfortunately sometimes he has that whole metal-skull-on-fire thing going on and not even my cleaning cantrips get the smell totally out of the clothing." Phoebe comments, looking at the hoodie. "I've tried. I think I also have two of Tim's hoodies kicking around here. Maybe one of Jason's. I'm just like, hoarding hoodies from other people, but it's weirdly the most ancient form of sympathetic magic?" Phoebe's nose scrunches up a moment as she stirs something on the stove top with a wooden spoon.

    "You wear the outer cloak of someone who loves you and you gain their protection." pause.

    "Which is as good an excuse as any for 'I accidentallied another hoodie'." she gives a bright grin.

    "Ooo. Alfred sent me food. That must mean there's a secret tuppie of brownies in the groceries." she gives a bright smile as she leans over to poke through the bag.

    And then the ask about Egypt. She takes a deep breath, and lets it out.

    "Eh. I was the only non-Titan. The Titan that I had a detailed plain for elimination was there. It was awkward until I cracked jokes about someone's mom and compared ancient Pharaohs to the Twilight phenomenon."

Damian Wayne has posed:
"Thank goodness mine are all too small." That said flatly when Phoebe mentions the stolen hoodies. Not that even Gabby has taken one of his yet. That's supposed to be a relationship goal (tm). When she mentions the protection, he rolls his eyes a little. "Did you read that on a Hallmark card? Because that sounds like something a girl made up to steal their boyfriend's clothes."

And indeed, there is a small tub of vegan walnut fudge brownies in the box amongst all the better for you fruits.

He listens to Phoebe's story and folds his hands over each other. "That's good at least. I had a different problem. A few years ago, one of them stole my motorcycle while I was on a mission. Put me in a bad spot when I needed it. I got over it, didn't go looking for it. Wrote it off and ordered a new one. I was going through some stuff a couple of weeks back and came across the key for it."

Fine, he was cleaning out his utility belt and forgot it was there.

"I figured I'd give it to her to show her I was over it and instead she got upset. Whatever, right? Then we got to Egypt. Again. She's there. I know the rules. I opened the door, greased the palms, all that. And then, because it was her mission, tried to hand it back off. Again. Gets pissed at me."

He shrugs. "Clearly didn't want me there. So I left. "

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Bruh, would I lie about magic?" Phoebe asks as she eyeballs Damian. "There's countless parallels in ancient English, Irish, French, Frank, all manner of Scandanavian, Egyptian, middle African --" she trails off as she finds the brownies -- and goes to hide them in a cabinet. Omnomnom -- but later. "The earliest mention was Irish. Lady was being attacked by spirits, and in desperation she threw her husband's cloak over herself and their baby. The spirits couldn't penetrate the fabric." Phoebe offers, spooning two bowls of steel-cut oats.

    "I'm told talking things out with people who you have trouble with should work--" she trails off and frowns "BUt the Titans seem like a very close-knit group. I've always been on the outside, even when I was invited to their functions, but most of them don't seem to like interacting with me on anything but a professional basis -- when they need a quick spleen or something -- but they have people who are better than me at anything I can do. So it's been a while."

Damian Wayne has posed:
"Fine, so it was a female mage that wanted her boyfriend's hoodie." That said teasingly. Damian clearly respects Phoebe and her abilities. But he can still tease her about it. "And you don't think I tried that?"

Fine. He's not good at the whole 'talking' things out.

"Dick is the talker. So is Tim. I'm not like them. Instead, I'm the doer." Damian shrurgs his shoulders in a roll. "And they are. But I can get your feelings. I don't understand some of the things they do. Like there was this whole time travel thing that just happened where turns out that Wally had a daughter with with another Titan and you know, everyone but me is alive in a thousand years. So. Yay?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Yeah. Possible futures are weird like that." Phoebe states quietly, and she rubs the back of her head, and looks down as she moves around the cabinets on the edge of the kitchen to sit at the breakfast bar with oatmeal and fruit. Delicious, nutritious, oatmeal and fruit.

    "I wouldn't worry so much about being live in a thousand years. I've known people who have lived for millennia, and some of them are pretty with it. Others are insufferble jerks. Most aren't very good people." Phoebe points out quietly.

    "I know I'm not alive in the future. I'm sure Bart or Irie would have mentioned it. But also, look at it this way?" she ventures, leaning back on her stool and grabbing a slice of kiwi.

    "Maybe you took over the League from your grandfather and you rule from the shadows steering the world slowly over decades to new eras of peace by taking out corrupt landlords and replacing selfish billionaires with your own agents?"

Damian Wayne has posed:
"I don't put any faith in whatever future is presented to me." Damian says flatly. "It is something that grifters and gypsies use to attempt to seperate you from your wallet." Yes, he believes in magic, but the other part of it? The fortune tellers? The palm readers? That is so much crap.

But when Phoebe brings up where he could be in the future, Damian's eyes widen. Not in surprise. But in amusement. And he breaks into a full belly laugh. As if his grandfather has any want for him in that role now. There are several moments of laughter, before he calms down. "I suppose it is better than other options!" he admits, reaching up to wipe away at an eye. "Oh, thank you, Phoebe. I needed the laugh."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe busts out laughing too, if only because what she knows about Ra's al Ghul she's either gleaned from Talia or Damian himself, and she was fairly convinced that Ra's was not going to engage Damian to be his heir any more than Bruce was going to take up magic himself. "Eh, it was worth a shot. There's three beings I live in fear of capturing and holding me." Phoebe admits as she picks up a piece of star fruit and points it at Damian.

    "The Joker, because my body and powers can only take so much damage before he gets bored. Your grandfather, because technically I could be a traveling Lazarus pit, and --" she trails off a moment, and purses her lips.

    "I suppose there's actually four. One's in Hell, and the other's..."

    And subconsciously she wraps the hoodie around her tighter, and just eats the starfruit.

Damian Wayne has posed:
Damian has learned a lot of things since coming to Gotham. Some things have taken longer than others. One of the things he /definetly/ has learned is...

...when to change the damn subject to something else.

That something else is a pen that Damian fishes out of his pocket. It's gold, really nice. And Damian even made sure to clean the blood off of it. "I need a favor." he starts as he spins the pen on the table idly. "A /Phoebe/ favor." Not Balm. Not Oriole. Her.

So it must be bad.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "I'm not covering the Holiday Gala after what Cupp pulled last year that made almost half the Outsiders show up." Phoebe counters, stirring from her thoughts. "You definitely shortstrawed that one." she counters, sitting up and finally determining that her oatmeal was cooled enough to eat, she tosses some strawberries into it.

    "Do... you need to identify who used the pen through clairvoyant magic?" she questions, looking at the pen in curiosity.

Damian Wayne has posed:
"Oh no." Damian responds as he slides the pen over to Phoebe. "Belongs to an Olivia Gaudin." he explains. "She's a Broadway singer. Currently doing 'Wicked'. She was in town for a charity event a few nights ago and got attacked by a group calling themselves the Victims of the Bat."

His eyes roll at the idea of the name. "Anyway, took down the one attacking her. She got in the way and stabbed him in the leg. Retrieved the pen for her." he explains. "She has left Rook a set of tickets at the will call for her show. I want you to take those tickets and return the pen. You can explain things to her better than I."

There is a huge piece of information he's leaving out.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "... I don't know of anyone who would come with me to Wicked." Lies. She'd make Tim go with her. They would probably both cry. Robbie doesn't seem like the type to enjoy /Broadway/ shows.

    "What should I tell her?" she questions, accepting the pen skeptically. And then she sstraightens, and looks to ROok.

    "Did she hit on you?"

Damian Wayne has posed:
"That he appreciated the gesture, but is not the type to rescue someone and want a reward." Damian responds. There is a momentary coloring on his cheeks as he clears his throat. "Not specifically. But she invited me to come into her apartment. I believe the intent was for a romantic encounter."

"I have a girlfriend would have been a poor response."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Yeah, that would have been a poor response." Phoebe frowns a moment, and then she raises her arms "What is it with people inviting heroes in? Like you don't know this person. You do not know what is under that mask. You do not know what they have done. Why. Would. You. Invite. Someone. In. Like That?!" Phoebe asks in incredulousity, and then breathes out.

    "I mean, I knew Robbie for months before we even went on a date let alone let each other into respective homes. She came to Gotham without a healthy sense of paranoia about strangers?! Girl was *looking* to get distressed." Phoebe comments, pointing her spoon at Damian. "But yeah, I'll take care of sending her pen back. I s'pose I could take Linds, once she's outta the hospital."

Damian Wayne has posed:
"She really was clueless about the dangers of Gotham past twilight." Damian sighs and shakes his head. "She was the pretty but perplexed type. Which does not make sense, I know of the talents it takes to become a Broadway star."

Though there is a small smirk. "Perhaps she was just smitten by my new costume?" he asks, after all, he only just recently debuted the new outfit.

"Gabby and I knew each other for over a year before we decided to try dating." A shrug of his shoulders. "I do not wish to jeopardize that on the flight of fancy of a young woman that is thinking with her heart instead of her head." At least he was nice about that.

"However, I had assumed my new costume would have been more intimidating. Or perhaps it is me." He taps his finger on the table, as he puzzles over this new line of thought.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Ah, she's a ditz." Phoebe gives a small grin. "Which is kinda hat I try to project when out in public, so I get it." she gives a small smile and pushes Damian's outmeal closer to him.

    "Your costume is intimidating, don't let one girl get you down." Phoebe gives a wry little grin at that, and leans in to bump her shoulder against Damian.

    "I would never question your integrity that you would violate Gabby's trust in you, Dams. You're a Good Man." she states, and she reaches out and puts her hand on his shoulder. "Otherwise, I wouldn't call you my brother."

Damian Wayne has posed:
Tucking into his oatmeal, Damian smirks slightly. "Perhaps it is I that has soften, then." That commented dryly between bites as he bumps Phobe back in response. "But thank you for handling this. I fear if I were to attempt it..."

Another bite. "...something bad would happen and I would have created another member of our varied Rogue's Gallery." he mutters at that. Because it sounds like exactly what would happen.

"Have I told you about the Victims of the Bat, yet?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "I've heard some rumblings and reports, but if you wanna brief me on them I'm all ears." Phoebe replies with a wry smile. "Why don't you tell me more about them?" she asks as she takes a bite of oatmeal-and-semi-cooked-strawberry slice

Damian Wayne has posed:
Taking another bite out of his oatmeal, Damian pulls out his phone and starts typing. After a really long passcode which is probably:

DamianisthebestRobineverandStephaniepadsherchest1234@@ or something equally ridiculous.

The phone unlocks and he opens a file to slide it over. Five mugshots are contained within. "Each one of these has gotten into a fight with one of us and has suffered permamen disfigurment. Instead of leaning into it..." Like Joker does. "These five have decided instead that everyone else in Gotham needs to be marked the same way. They attacked a charity event I was hosting yesterday. Gabby, Illyana, Cain... and Bunny, who is Gabby's ex, all helped." he explains.

The first one is a large figure wearing power armor. "That's Terminus. He has some bone marrow issue that is causing his bones to fall apart as they heal. He wears the armor to survive. I'm not sure how we're related to that."

Next up is a man with a Batarang in his head. "Bat-Head. Former assassin. Picked up one of our batarangs and tried to throw it at Tim. Didn't realize it would come back if he threw it."

"Scallop's next." A girl with a whole lot of piercings. "She took some spikes from one of our gauntlets into her neck and they imbedded there where they can't be removed."

Next is a man with a boot shaped scar in his face with a bat symbol in the middle of it. "Bootface. Uses a flame thrower. Set someone on fire - ate a flaming boot to the face, disfigured him."

Last is what looks like a blob of humanity. Three people smushed into one with all the grossness of Clayface and none of the symmetry. "Smush. They were three -- until I came across them trying to steal some chemicals from TCL. Whatever was in the barrel mutated them into this." he explains. "They have very little intelligence."

But before Phoebe csan write them off, the next few pictures are of victims of them. People 'branded' with the batsymbol on their chests. People that the Bat-family could not get to, or just didn't know about it.

"I'm not sure what their endgame is. And I'm not sure how long they'll stay down this time. Just be careful of them."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "The fact that Badger has an ex named Bunny is entirely unsurprising." Phoebe states dryly, and she looks at the collection of mugshots.

    "... I remember some of these cases. Before my time. I offered to see if there was anything I could do but --" she frowns "I was just coming on duty and wasn't even allowed to patrol yet. I was still in a bad place." she frowns as she flicks through the pictures.

    "These are... all kind of our failures. I wish there was something we could do to help them... or at least ease the symptoms of their manias..." she frowns, looking to Smush, and her lips press into a deeper frown.

    "BUt the situations were probably 'us or them'." she finishes quietly.

Damian Wayne has posed:
"Who she dated in the past is just that. They remained friends, so." Damian shrugs his shoulders. "I remained friends with Jon after dating him, so I clearly cannot hold her at fault."

"They are not our failures. They made the decision. Just as we did. They made the decision to stand against us and this is the price they paid for it." Damian repsonds a bit cooly. He has no compassion for any of them. "I assume Father will want to try to heal them. But I feel if the punishment fits the crime..."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Well I can't blame you, Jon was adorable and very easy to be friends with." Phoebe gives a small smile, and she shrugs her shoulders.

    "You both have better records than I do. My first almost-boyfriend abandoned ship to become a psychopomp, I think. THe second one I kinda abandoned ship because... well..." she motions to her neck, where if she wasn't wearing a wide choker collar made out of black ribbon, there would be three scars showing where a demon literally stole her larynx.

    "Wish I could heal them. But most of the injuries are probably far too old for me to do anything about -- their current victims, though. We can do something for them."

Damian Wayne has posed:
Damian gives a brief frown as they talk about exes. He's aware that Phoebe's had a rough go of it, which is why he's happy that Robbie is sticking around and at the same time. And at the same time, protective, to make sure that she doesn't get hurt again.

Instead, his attention returns to the whole thing with healing those that did dumb things to get hurt. "The only thing they deserve, is to be put away, Phoebe so that they can't do this..."

A flip to a young woman's chest, one of the city's streetwalkers, her clothes burned away, the Batsymbol as a raised, angry brand across her chest. "...doesn't happen to anyone else."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "You know that's not your father's philosophy. Some people can be helped. Putting people away forever doesn't do anything but let them bide their time for escape." Phoebe states cooly.

    Damian's aware that Phoebe has had to kill others in her other line of heroic work.

    IT was only a matter of time until she had to make the choice again... and again and again.

    "I remember this one from the news." Phoebe murmurs quietly. "... I wish I had permission to just... go to them and take care of it. For their own sakes -- the victims, mind you, *not* these fanatics."

Damian Wayne has posed:
"I'm well aware of my father's philosophy." Damian responds. "And I am doing my best to stick with them." There's a sigh as he sets down the spoon and leans back with a sigh of frustation. "And I realized what a pain in the ass it is to do so."

A shake of his head. "Especially when there are those that so surely need that type of handling. So. We do the best we can with the constraints we have. Like trying to eat half-set Jello with a fork."

"If you can help the victims? All the power to you, Phoebe. I'd rather put down those thare causing the symptoms."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "So would I." Phoebe reponds honestly. "You know I don't allow Robbie to... work in Gotham because of the way his powers work..." Phoebe trails off. "That doesn't mean I don't lend a hand when I'm outside city limits. And I've broken Bruce's rules before. Mostly regarding magic." Phoebe wiggles her fingers little. "... once to save you."

Damian Wayne has posed:
"I'm aware. Which is why I trust you." Damian responds with a smirk as he lets out a breath. "I am also aware of your role in the Outsiders as Balm. Both of which I have no concern with. It's what you wish to do. But I know Father would want me to keep on my colors, regardless of the role."

"But than you for listening to me go on about things. I appreciate it." he admits honestly as he bumps Phoebe's shoulder in response. "And for taking on a mission to return the pen."