17885/Night Shift at GCPD

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Night Shift at GCPD
Date of Scene: 09 May 2024
Location: GCPD Headquarters - Midtown
Synopsis: Commissioner Gordon and Robin meet incidentally on the roof of the GCPD and share some conversation. Robin reveals a more human side of himself, and Commissioner Gordon reveals what causes him to lose sleep!
Cast of Characters: Jim Gordon, Damian Wayne




Jim Gordon has posed:
Nighttime in Gotham City. Does the sun even rise here anymore? Nighttime is to Gotham as winter time is to Chicago. It seems permanent and then, if even for what seems like only one day, the warmth of the sun graces the city with its presence. Instead, at least currently, a haze blankets the skies just above the towering rooftops of the city. The lights from the buildings and streets below are reflected by the clouds and haze, casting an eerie amber glow over the area. As gloomy as it may seem, the commissioner loves it.

Jim stands on the rooftop of the GCPD building, a light coat wrapped around him, the collar raised to ineffectively shield his neck from the wind. A cigarette rests between his lips. Over the years he's made it a habit to take his frequent smoke breaks on the roof in case any of the Bat-folk need to drop in for a chat, which happens more often that people might think.

Damian Wayne has posed:
For Robin, like all of the Bat Family, moving undetected is a lifestyle. It saves lives. It is ingrained and as natural as breathing. So it is unsurprising that Commissioner Gordon might suddenly become aware of Robin sitting on the edge of the roof near him. One leg is dangling over the edge and the other is pulled up to his chest so he can rest his chin on his knee. He is on patrol. Whoever he may be beneath that mask, he is in Robin Mode right now, bristling with awareness and potential energy.

"Come here often?" Robin quips. He is peering out over the city. There is an unnatural lull in Gotham right now, which may be more disturbing than frequent outbreaks and emergencies.

Jim Gordon has posed:
Jim may have grown accustomed to having Robin or Batman or whoever else randomly showing up while he's out having a smoke, but he's never prepared for the shock of them suddenly appearing. He likes to think of himself as an aware person. Maybe it's Robin's uncanny ability to be practically silent, or maybe it's his aging body failing him. Could be both, but it's most likely just Robin's ridiculously effective stealth that catch the Commissioner off guard.

Jim visibly starts at the sound of Robin's voice, his body tensing up and causing the cigarette to almost tumble out from his mouth. His eyes shut for a moment in an exasperated relief as he turns to look at Robin sitting on the ledge. He takes a puff from his cigarette before tugging it from his lips, "You all keep nearly giving me a heart attack and I won't be able to come here ever again." He exhales a thick cloud consisting of both cigarette smoke and heat dissipating in the cool night air. His gaze follows Robin's vigilant search out across the city. He would like to comment on the unusual quiet across the city and in the dispatch office downstairs, but every officer knows that acknowledging a quiet night is a huge no-no. The moment someone utters those words, a bomb will drop and all hell will break loose. He steps closer to the edge of the roof and continues peering down into the streets below, "You good?"

Damian Wayne has posed:
Robin doesn't physically respond to Commissioner Gordon's jumpscare. He just continues to cooly take in the nighttime cityscape. He knows he spooks people. But the Commissioner shouldn't feel bad. Damian was quite literally trained from birth by the most effective group of assassins in the history of the world. He was designed, created, and groomed specifically to kill the Batman.

"Between the Bat folks and those cigarettes, we'll need a new Police Commissioner soon," Robin intones. He scores low on the Social Skills Meter. No surprises there.

Robin fluidly stands, rising to his feet in a single motion. Young limbs and joints. "Yeah, I'm good, Commissioner," the boy wonder replies. Damian often addresses people in curt or sassy ways, but he /always/ uses Commissioner Gordon's proper title. Could that actually be...respect from the young misanthrope? "Are you up here relaxing, or watching for something specific?"

Jim Gordon has posed:
Good Christ, if Jim knew Robin's upbringing, he'd have to double his intake of nicotine each day. Mercifully that isn't the case and he can carry on with his one pack a day routine in peace. He doesn't take offense to the jab at his smoking habit. He knows it's bad. He knows the rate of smoking in the US is drastically decreasing and it's generally frowned upon to be a smoker. Does he care? Not a damn bit. He's earned this habit.

"I'm looking forward to getting some rest," he says before taking another drag. He looks around for the coffee he brought up with him, reaching over to grab the old cup that at least appears to have been white originally. It's now almost completely brown from the coffee stains and the poor attempts at cleaning that the precinct washer manage. "I come up here to think," he says, letting the warmth of the coffee heat up his hand. "The sound of the city helps me focus." Despite the constant eruptions of horn sounds below, there's something calming about the soundtrack of Gotham. "There have been a couple art-related crimes in the past few weeks that appear to be related." He takes a sip of his coffee, "You may have seen it on the news. The Art Museum and the Opera House."

Damian Wayne has posed:
"Yes," Robin replies, clasping his hands behind his back outside of his cape, as he continues scanning the city visually. "I'm peripherally aware of the thefts and the vandalism." His words and tone seems to suggest they are outside of his sphere of interest. Or maybe Robin is just always off-putting. He is probably always off-putting. "Do you have any leads, Commissioner?"

Robin hops down off the ledge and tugs what appears to be some sort of granola bar wrapped in plastic wrap (homemade, high-nutrition energy bars made by Alfred Pennyworth) from his utility belt. He offers one to Commissioner Gordon before opening his. He leans against the ledge and starts to eat.

Jim Gordon has posed:
Pausing long enough to let another sip of coffee travel to his stomach, warming his insides, Jim closes his eyes and presses the pad of his thumb between his eyebrows in an attempt to stall an approaching headache. Simple art-related crimes certainly do not fall under the Bat umbrella, but unfortunately it's what's on his plate at the moment. "We have to spend time and effort trying to track down some art critic when this city has much bigger problems to deal with," he grumbles faintly as he looks over the edge of the roof. "No suspects at the moment, but we're looking into it." He glances over at Damian, "But if the victims are paintings and mannequins I'm not going to lose sleep over it." Unless the Mayor starts calling him in the middle of the night.

Damian Wayne has posed:
Although he lacks the wisdom and worldliness of age, Damian can be surprisingly incisive and poignant when he wants to be. He finishes his energy bar and tucks the plastic wrap back into his utility belt, then remains quiet for several beats before asking, "What does make you lose sleep, Commissioner?"

Robin turns his head to look at Commissioner Gordon. Eye contact from Robin is rare. The list of people whom he looks at directly without beating the crap out of them is small.

Jim Gordon has posed:
The weight of and the almost personal nature of the question catches Jim off guard. He's comfortable around the motley crew that makes up the Bat family, but that comfort comes from the nature of the relationships. Professional and mutually respectful. He's not used to getting very personal.

He takes a moment to regard Robin. He would almost think it was a joke if he didn't know better. Robin isn't typically one for quips. "Acid reflux, mostly," he offers as he lifts his coffee to his lips and takes another sip. "And worrying about my daughter." His instinct is to answer with a non-commital joke but given the seemingly genuine interest Robin offers, he figures he owes a legitimate answer, even if he doesn't like to admit such things.

Damian Wayne has posed:
Robin turns back to peer out at Gotham. Talking is so much easier for the young man when he doesn't have to look at someone. Worrying about his daughter? Oh, Jim, if you only knew, you wouldn't ever sleep again.

"Understandable. And commendable," the caped hero responds surprisingly humanly. "If more parents cared about their children, we'd be out of a job." There is a slight pursing of Robin's lips. Damian obviously has some mommy and daddy issues of his own to deal with. When your mom secretly clones you to kill your dad, you miiiiiiight end up with a few screws loose.

"But yeah, your point is taken about the art crimes." Robin slips effortlessly back into business mode. Jim just had a more personal conversation Damian in 15 seconds than someone has had with him in a long time. "But there could be more to it. They may be a ruse to divert resources or to test police response. They may be the prelude to something larger from one of our more...unhinged criminals in the city. If there's one thing I've come to expect in Gotham is that nothing is small, not even the things that are small."

Jim Gordon has posed:
The human response he gets from Robin causes Jim to pause and watch him for a moment. Almost as if he's seeing Robin as an actual person for the first time instead of a symbol. He begins to wonder about what the kid behind the costume was like when he was growing up. The path that led him to this rooftop at this moment. The wondering, however, is short-lived as Robin begins to talk shop again.

"That's exactly what I'm afraid of," he says with a sigh as he turns to regard the city once more. "Historically, the more insignificant the crime the more intricate and grandiose the plot turns out to be." He takes a final drag from his cigarette and then stuff it into an old coffee tin he brought out here for this exact purpose. "I'll keep you in the loop if we find out anything that suggests it's more than we expect. The theatricality of it all doesn't sit right with me."

Damian Wayne has posed:
Robin climbs up onto the ledge. That's generally Bat Body Talk for 'I'm leaving now.' "Please do," Robin says to the Commissioner. He draws a deep breath and lets it out slowly, pausing, as if saying nice things to people is difficult for the young man--outside of his wheelhouse. "I'm always at your disposal, Commissioner. We literally couldn't do this job, keep this city safe without you."

Side benefit of being Bat Fam: when you drop an emotional truth bomb you can just bail rather than deal with the aftermath. So Robin literally leaps off the building and begins to fall in an acrobatic pose. He activates something somewhere that applies an electric current to his cape causing it to go rigid like a glider. He sails smoothly for about a quarter mile before he fires a grappling gun near the top of a building, giving himself a rapid boost. Then he repeats the process until he vanishes into the night.

Jim Gordon has posed:
Seeing Robin step up onto the ledge in his peripheral vision at least gives Jim the opportunity to see the man leave. Most of the time he turns around and they're just gone when he's been talking to thin air. He appreciates the small victories in that regard.

The heartfelt admission doesn't go unappreciated. Most, if not all, of his personal relationships have been sacrificed for this job. When he gets validation, especially from Robin or any of the Bat Fam, it goes a long way in making it feel worth all the loss. As Robin steps off the building, Jim leans over to watch him drop and then glide out into the night, "Likewise, kid."

He takes one last sip of coffee, gives the skyline one last look, then turns to head back inside. No rest for the weary.