2676/Looking for Reasons

Looking for Reasons
Date of Scene:	29 July 2020
Location:	An Alleyway Near Phoebe Beacon's House, Gotham
Synopsis:	Red Robin questions Beacon on her reasons and her devotion to the Job.
Cast of Characters:	Tim Drake, Phoebe Beacon

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Tim Drake has posed:
Red Robin is very aware how incredibly sketchy it looks on the surface. He has effectively been stalking Beacon on and off for some time now, keeping tabs on her comings and goings and putting together a dossier. She has powers. She is in Gotham. She is going to run afoul of the Batclan's attention at some point. And since his run-ins with her have been fairly positive so far, Red isn't entirely pleased with the idea of Batman looming at her and giving her The Speech.

So. Here he is. It's a weekday evening, and from his notes it should be about the time Beacon sneaks out to start making her rounds of homeless encampments, and she should be heading down this way any moment.

Red Robin skims the area out of practiced paranoia, his ice blue eyes hidden behind the whites of the heads-up display in his domino mask. His black and red lightly armored costume has either been repaired since last she saw him, or he has spares. His utility belt hangs heavy at his waist, overloaded a bit tonight since he is out solo-- no Ravager, Sparrow, or Red Hood backing him up.%

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    And he's right. Right about now, the skylight in Phoebe's room overlooking the back yard -- and adjacent to the alleyway -- opens up. A figure hoists a heavy backpack out first, and then follows. Her hair was very carefully wrapped tonight, to keep it down and tamed beneath the hood of her jacket. She had a bundle -- probably her home-made costume -- tucked under one arm as she slowly sets the skylight back down and makes her way across the rooftop, walking quickly, as she's done a hundred times before, her feet whispering against the tar and shingles of the townhouse roof before she makes her way to a fire escape, and once on the side of the building she sits odwn and begins to assemble herself.

    No one's ever up on the rooftops. She hasn't developed a sense of paranoia yet, and she didn't seem to have noticed Red Robin's presence.

Tim Drake has posed:
Melting out of the darkness, Red Robin steps into her view and clears his throat. "Beacon." He frowns a bit under his mask. "Can we talk?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe nearly leaps out of her skin at the sudden threat, one boot falling to the roof as she draws up to a stand, her face lighting up brilliantly as she produces her glowing staff, ready to fight -- and she blinks. The staff disintegrates into a thousand tiny points of light, the brilliance on her face extinguishing as she falters a moment.

    "I... guess so?" she ventures, unsure, and she leans down to pick her boot up and actually apply it to her foot.

Tim Drake has posed:
"You realize what you're doing is dangerous," he starts. His staff is still hanging from his belt for the moment, collapsed. "Not that I didn't appreciate the assist the other night." In fact, it seems like his arm is mostly healed. And he's not moving like someone with several shattered ribs. "But the streets of Gotham are dangerous, and more so when you're alone. You've been lucky so far."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "I am extremely lucky." Phoebe replies, and she rolls out her jacket. It's padded. Probably hot. There are stitches on the inside where it's been pieced back together.

    "I've been shot twice." she states, and she looks up at Red Robin, her cheap, cloth domino and facemask waving slightly as she motions with one hand "Not to mention slammed into cars, threatened unimaginatively, cracked upside the head a couple of times and someone had the indecency to stab me somewhere in the vincinity of my spleen. I was sick for a week." she explains, incredibly non-chalant about it as she shrugs into her jacket, and begins to secure it in place. Buttons. It's secured with buttons and high-test fishingline.

    "I go to homeless camps and bring clean socks and sandwiches. I've been doing that since before the falcons, just... did it during the weekends and during the day."

Tim Drake has posed:
Red Robin actually scowls a bit under his mask. "Yeah, not helping your case. You're a kid, Beacon. You shouldnt be getting shot, or slammed into cars. What happens if your powers stop working?" He glances towards her house. "Your parents don't know about any of this, I'm assuming." He is challenging her. He was younger than her when he threw himself at Bruce and all but demanded the Robin costume... the short shorts of destiny, as Jason calls them derisively. He knew what it was like to hide his nightly activities from his parents.

And he knew what it was like to lose them to the darkness of Gotham. What it felt like to stand in a suit at their funerals.

He says none of this to Beacon, but the experience roughens his voice as he questions her.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "They won't. They haven't yet." Phoebe replies with a little bit of bravado to her voice, but she looks back.

    "... besides. I always make it home before one. Most nights aren't eventful." she crosses her arms a moment, her dark eyes drawing up to look at Red Robin, then turns her gaze away.

    "I can't just do nothing while I have these powers, while Gotham gets a little darker every day. That's just... that's not who I am. Not what I want to be. I stay out of the way as much as I can. My mom doesn't need to know."

Tim Drake has posed:
He doesn't really realize how much he is emulating his mentor here. "If they aren't eventful, then you've been lucky. Gotham //is// getting darker, all the time. We use it and fight against it. But this isn't a game, Phoebe." He uses her given name. "People die out there all the time. I'm not the first Robin. I'm not even the second. Death is a possibility. It may be an inevitability. The people out there aren't like us. They don't pull their punches. They don't shy away from lethal force."

"Do you understand what I'm saying to you, Beacon?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe draws herself up a bit. She's a bit shorter than Red Robin, even in her sturdy boots, and she regards the older hero with thought.

    "I know that people die out there, all the time. Sometimes from gunshots. Or firebombs. Sometimes it's an infected tooth that turns your blood septic. Sometimes it's because you feel there is nothing you can do to change what's happened." she straightens her jacket, and she hoists her duffle full of sandwiches and care bags. "I'm not about to sit at home and pretend there is nothing I can do to help, but I can't put it out there that I have these powers, either."

Tim Drake has posed:
"So even with my warning, you're going to do it anyway? Despite the risks? Despite knowing that any time you go out there you might not make it back home?" Red Robin folds his arms across his chest. "Now it's just street thugs. If the Joker, or Croc, or someone else nabs you, what then? Do you think your powers will let survive Rictus gas? Being torn limb from limb? Are you willing to risk your life, your happiness, everything you are... for /this city/? For this place filled with crime and corruption, pollution and poverty? Are you willing to die for Gotham?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    She had turned away when he spoke out. She hears the rustle of the armor scrabing against his chest. She feels her heart get heavy. She looks at her hands a moment, the gray gloves covering her dark skin and light palms, and she draws her head up, closing her eyes a moment.

    "I don't know." she replies back quietly.

    "... but for this city? For /my/ City?" she turns, and she steps back over to him, searching those blank whites behind the HUD for any hint of emotion.

    "I'd die every night if it meant bringing a couple of sparks of hope back to Gotham," she replies quietly, with the utmost seriousness and earnesty in her voice, and sh goes up to the balls of her feet, and even though she looks like she might cry, she states "I'd be in /good/. /company."

Tim Drake has posed:
The scowl on his lips quirks into a grin. "Good. We are on the same page, then." He looks to her bag. "The encampment over of Sunrise has been broken up. Most of them moved over near the base of old Southbridge." He glances down the rooftops again. Residential areas are unwise for Bats to linger in too long. It tends to draw the sort of attention none of the people below their feet need. "Be ready. Soon, I'm going to interrupt one of your nights out with an offer. But for now..."

He slips back into the shadows. "Keep giving our city hope."

And then he is gone.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe blinks. She thought she was going to have to fight, but this...

    Well.

    She gives a nod. "Thanks, Red." she calls out gently, pulls her hood up, re-shoulders her bag, and then goes to her nightly mission.

    ... though it was weird that he knew she was going to head to Sunrise.

    She maps another route in her head as she goes, slipping quietly into the night.