2777/Killer Kittens from Space

Killer Kittens from Space
Date of Scene:	04 August 2020
Location:	The Robin's Roost - Chelsea
Synopsis:	Tim and Cassie have a talk about recent events. And by talk, this means lots of screaming and breaking things.
Cast of Characters:	Tim Drake, Cassie Sandsmark

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Tim Drake has posed:
The upper floor of the Roost has quickly been claimed by one smol, terrible mighty hunter named Mister Murder Mittens. Bart had placed strategic auto scooping boxes, cat beds, cat trees, and other cat-related things all over the recreation areas and where ever else they might fit well. Tim has banned the kitten from any of the lower levels for both the kitten's safety and everyone's sanity.

Though he has the ability to use his own entertainment stuff over in his house, Tim's sacked out on the couch with a bowl of cereal and watching the news, looking grim. He's out of costume, in sweatpants and a tank top, but one of his collapsible staves is laying on the coffee table next to his open can of coke, collapsed down to about the size of a roll of quarters.

Murder Mittens is stomping across the back of the couch behind Tim's head, being ignored for the moment.

Cassie Sandsmark has posed:
In the super hero business, billionaire-financed super club houses are just a little bit more common than they are among the general population. So while the Roost definitely packs in the awesome, if it was judged simply by virtue of the size of the garage, kitchen, number of screens, etc... well, maybe it wouldn't stand out. But the arrival of Mister Murder Mittens has changed all that, and definitely transformed the experience. Of course, it's not only him, but the new teamates, the things that start giving it the feel of a lived-in place.

Even Tim laying around at his most slovenly adds to that!

And these changes have touched Cassie as well. In the past, she's stopped in but never really stayed. But after meeting the new gang, she hung out through the weekend. Out for the day on business, she returns at whatever weird hour, in semi-costume (such as it is), upnods Tim the couch potato, and wordlessly heads up to the living area. She's gone as long as a quick shower takes, and comes back sporting a similar look, save trading gym shorts for the sweats, with a towel around her shoulders and her hair still damp. She floats down, passing over the kitty on the back of the couch (who has already worked out that Cassie is a very /different/ sort of playmate with her ability to come up and tickle him on his highest cat-shelves), and does a tumble midair to reorient before plopping her butt on the couch. "What're you watching?"

Tim Drake has posed:
"News." Tim's tone is not a happy one. On the screen is one of the local Gotham channels, with a breathless reporter talking about the recent spike in overdoses crowding all three of Gotham's hospitals, as well as the one in Bludhaven. Most of the overdoses are heroin, but there's also meth and others as well; and that while some people are surviving them, many are being found dead on the streets or in their homes, or die not long after getting to the hospitals. The reporter says the GCPD is on the case.

Tim is focused on the screen, scowling like he usually does with his mask on. The bowl of cereal in his hands has long since gotten soggy, as if he's been ignoring it instead of eating it.

Cassie Sandsmark has posed:
The question is obviously at least a little rhetorical, and Tim's short answer equally formulaic, since it's obviously a news program. So Cassie scrunches up her brows a little, and does things the old fashioned way, actually watching for a few moments to see what the news-lady says. "Ugh. Tim, don't get me wrong, I never want to be down on someone's home, but Gotham is always really depressing. So is there something to this?" The Bat-clan hardly needs to rely on the nightly news to keep track of what's happening in their turf, so it's not hard to imagine he's fixed on it for a reason.

Cassie waits a few moments, watching the screen, occasionally looking over. She even leans in a little, to see if he still seems unresponsive... and then grabs the bowl before suddenly launching airborn again.

"This is mush," she informs him. "I haven't eaten, you want me to grab you something? Have you fed Mittens?" Yep. She's gonna be cat mom, that's already well-established. Whatever answer she gets, she's headed back toward the kitchen, and soon sets to foraging. "So tell me what's up with this," she calls back, as she digs through the fridge.

Tim Drake has posed:
"Have you ever seen Conner high?" Tim asks, eyeing the kitten suspiciously. It sits down on the back of the couch, washing its face and pointedly ignoring Tim. He snorts, then looks towards the kitchen. "There's chips in the blue bin in the pantry," he points out. "And Honeycrisps in the fruit bin in the fridge. I think some oranges too." Helpful. "Cat was fed. Bart handled it." He waits until she returns to elaborate on his first question, his attention turning back to the talking head at least for a few more moments, his expression darkening.

Cassie Sandsmark has posed:
"High? I don't think so. I've seen him, I don't know, -weird-," Cassie considers, presumably referring to some of their very early days when Conner was basically 'fresh out of the tube' and still coming to terms with things. "I doubt he even could, come to think of it, just like he doesn't really get drunk. His super-metabolism is something else. I'm like, simultaneously jealous of it but also kind of feel bad for him, missing out." With the tipoff toward some prime items, she grabs those, albeit with a little bit of passive lecturing: "This doesn't really count as a meal."

Nitpick aside, she doesn't want to spend time on anything, so...

Soon enough, the Cassie express is coming back in for another over-the-couch-back landing, settling cross-legged with two bowls held one each to a hand, one with chips and the other the apples. She puts them both down between them, and leans back. "So what's this about, exactly?"

Tim Drake has posed:
"There's some kind of chemical agent being sold that makes drugs more potent. Potent enough to work on Conner." Tim takes one of the apples and takes a bite. "I mean, it was amusing but also terrifying. It should not work on him." He scowls. "And don't ask what it did to me." Tim is admitting to having imbibed in something stronger than a soda? Weird times. "After two drinks, I had a blood alcohol level that was more on the lines of seven. Let's not get into the ecstasy levels." He's matter of fact Tim, no different than discussing a sparring match or a new set of equipment.

Cassie Sandsmark has posed:
Cassie grabs a chip and manages to end up perfectly mid-bite when Tim lands the explanation, which leaves her in a sort of humorously stunned state for a moment with half a chip in her fingers. After letting it process a moment, she finishes the other half, with a second long pause, and then finally clarifies: "Lemme get this straight, you're telling me the two of you-" What's the proper emotional response here? She makes a face like she can't quite make up her mind on it, between laughing, looking horrified, or a few other things inbetween. "So so so... baaaaaack up."

No, she is not just gonna let this slide.

"So you were just out drinking, right?" Clarification that they were not, uh, snorting super drugs for testing purposes. "And someone spiked them? Like, back to the beginning here, how did this all go down? Where were you? A bar, some party?" Although there's maybe a little 'why wasn't I invited' subtext here, she mostly seems concerned about nailing down the details of the scene of the incident, since it sort of sounds like a pair of her friends got drugged without their knowledge. It's maybe something she'd be MORE sensitive to, considering.

Tim Drake has posed:
"Well, we went to an underground rave," Well that's out of character for TIM at least. Conner not so much. "Trying to get more information on these drugs. Rose insisted we drink to fit in, so," well, also believable Rose would do so, somewhat not entirely Timlike for agreeing, "things happened," that's a gloss over if Cassie's ever heard one, "and we lost Conner, and I got blood samples from us when we got back without Conner, and then--" he cuts himself off, taking another bite of apple. "Uh, we went to sleep," for a guy who blames getting mangled by seven foot walking crocodiles on motorcycle accidents he is not really that great at lying here, "and Conner came in the next morning hungover and shirtless and covered in lipstick."

Another crunch of apple. "And then Superman showed up while we were hungover."

Tim Drake has posed:
"Oh. The blood work showed the drinks were spiked with basically super ecstacy." Tim very studiously studies the ceiling for a moment.

Cassie Sandsmark has posed:
There is a bit of a frown developing, starting at the point when Tim first admits that they staged an underground party investigation and didn't bring her. It grows in stages, less so for the vague admission of the situation, of playing along to fit in. That is the definition of 'undercover,' and they are super people. Risks, blah blah. However, there is definitely a bit of an expansion of said frowny-face when Tim reaches the point where he 'lost' Conner. That is pretty bad on its own. "You LOST him? Like, your teamate, on a mission? Not that he, of anyone, can't mostly take care of himself, but c'mon you're starting a squad and start off-"

And then it kinda gets worse.

Cassie is not /bothered/ by the lie: Diana's the avatar of truth, she's just the side-avatar of kicking the crap out of baddies. There is an eye roll, though, for the bald-facedness of it. Except she then suddenly gets real upset, real fast: "Yeah, I get it Tim, you two totally screwed up your first mission but had an AWESOME time anyway. Great! Amazing!" Arms fly upward in animated speech. "Then Super Daddy came and made sure you were OK, gave you a finger wag and a stern look, and you feel SOOOOO embarassed. Boo-hoo."

Even if she berrates /Tim/ (and she does!), it's pretty obvious at /where/ in the story she gets upset. The last bit does not help: "Oh, well I guess that deserves a thumbs up for a job well-done, right? You figured it out." Without any warning or further discussion, she's airborn again, just floating first, spinning around to scoop Mittens into her arms, and then starts on an escape trajectory toward the upstairs landing.

Tim Drake has posed:
Tim frowns. "Cassie. Cassie!" He stands up, tossing the mostly eaten apple on the table. "Awesome time? I mean, maybe Conner and Rose did but I've been pissed at myself for over a week now for screwing up so bad." He scowls. "Look, I know as well as you do Conner can't or won't see what's right in front of him." Tim has been trying to, in his own way, wingman this for awhile. For someone with Super senses, his best friend was ridiculously oblivious.

"I get that Conner being... stupid... hurts, Cassie. Believe me." He remembers with great embarrassment exploding at Jason when he had insinuated he had slept with Rose. He could easily imagine how Cassie likely felt right now. "And no, I didn't have proof of the nature of the drugs until just recently. At least it wasn't a total bust but no, it wasn't //great//." He crosses his arms, looking at her. "And it was the first time Conner met his dad. It was bad timing. Superman came looking for HIM though, so it's like we have been telling him... he isn't going to be abandoned." Tim sighs. "But the main problem here is people are getting hurt. Getting killed by this stuff. And it can //affect Conner//. That's scary. It knocked Rose on her ass for most of the next day. It would probably take you down too."

Cassie Sandsmark has posed:
The attempt to stop her works, although it ends up being a little precarious - especially for Mr. Mittens. Cassie was presumably just kidnapping the kitten for commiseration snuggles, but now, well, she turns around to face Tim but remains hanging in the air, with the orange ball in her arms, peering out over the space below.

"/Maybe they did?/ Tim JUST SHUT UP PLEASE." Discussing this outright, facing facts, doesn't seem like something she savors. And... just as quickly as she's told him to shut up, she's arguing and lecturing instead: "And what, you think you're /helping/ things, taking him out to party with you and your girlfriend? What the hell are you thinking? How the- how are you the SMART one, again? Did you even think to ask-"

She doesn't bother finishing. Somewhere along the line, she notices Mittens staring out over the abyss, and turns to fly him over to a shelf. Then she turns back, and WITHOUT the cuddleball in her arms, turns far more animated. Which isn't good.

"Oh you have proof now! Good for you! Mission success!" With each, she swoops down a little lower, until she's back close to Tim, but nearly shouting in his face, her own red and eyes tear-filled: "So why don't you go down and lock yourself in your lab, do whatever you do, track the chemicals, suppliers, blah blah blah." Now she turns, and starts back on her original route upstairs. "Then we can go kick all their asses, hooray, the good-guys win! City saved!" She holds her arms up in victory... and then casually whips one arm down and takes a significant chunk out of the corner of a wall as she passes.

It was a nice pristine hideout they had for all of five minutes there!

Tim Drake has posed:
Tim groans. He is NOT the one that's good at this stuff. "What do you want me to do, Cassie?" He ignores the damage. Honestly he's shocked it didn't happen sooner. "I'll remember to invite you next time we go out to illegal drug filled parties. I'm sure that will in no way end with me and Conner wrapped up in a truth lasso by YOUR mentor, assuming she doesn't kick our asses from here to Metropolis." Tim snorts bitterly. "You're mad because you still haven't bothered telling him. I get it. But don't take it out on me." He pauses. "Or the base, or the cat."

He rubs his temples. "Maybe I should just go lock myself in the lab. Math and science is a lot less complicated than all this anyway." He turns to head towards the elevator to the labs, pausing a moment. "You know how hard it was for me to admit to anyone I wanted to be with Rose? Much less her. And half the time I still worry she's going to..." he doesn't finish the thought, but his face looks anguished for a second. He forces his expression back to something more neutral, but it is as much of a mask as the one he wear over his eyes. "Be mad at him, but you've never even told him you want... whatever it is you want. You can't blame him for what he doesn't know... and you can blame me less." He punches the button to the elevator. "If anyone needs me, you know where I'll be." There is more than a little bitterness in his tone.

Cassie Sandsmark has posed:
"I don't know, maybe think for five seconds before doing something so stupid!" Cassie shouts back. "Maybe -don't- do the stupid thing, when you're supposed to be so freaking smart. But I see how it is. You and your super-bro go on a super-bender, 'accidentally' bang a bunch of super-hos," that last one may not entirely make sense, but she's on a rhythm here! Also don't repeat that one to Rose. "Then you get to bond with super-dad,'boys will be boys,' and it's all good, a warm-fuzzy ending to be happy about. But the thought of Diana pointing out what goddesses-damned idiots you are is terrifying? Hera help me, they're right. You really are all pigs."

She vanishes a moment back into the rooms. It's not a kryptonian quick-change, but its fast enough to do it before the elevator gets there. She's back in her street clothes, with her backpack over her shoulder, although her bracers and lasso are still prominently visible. Packing to go home, or out looking for a fight?

"And what am I supposed to tell him now, exactly?" she wonders, as she flies down. "'Hey Con, I know you're neck-deep in sluts, but if you want to go out some time...' I'd sound like a freaking idiot! Like a joke! What's the point." At that last, the anger's gone, and she just sounds defeated. She heads for the exit. "Call me when you have the addresses."

Tim Drake has posed:
Tim looks... crestfallen at all of that. Then he says, quietly but enough to be heard by her, "You know, Rose wasn't exactly pure as the driven snow. She still isn't. I don't know exactly how many people she's slept with and I don't really want to." He sighs. The elevator door opens. "I'm pretty sure I'm in love with her anyway. And no... she doesn't know that. Pretty sure if I told her she'd disappear again like she always does, and probably not come back this time. So. I get it."

Cassie Sandsmark has posed:
"Tim you have to realize it's not the- I don't care that he did it. I'm not judgy. Slut-shaming is like, not the Amazon way." That may not be in the /official/ handbook just yet, but Cassie is working on updating their lingo. But the spirit's there, especially if you stop to consider how everyone on Themyscira has probably slept with nearly every other person on Themyscira, at some point, and no one cares at all. "But... /that/'s what he likes. Maybe it's because of what he is, that it's all... instinct, or whatever? But it's pretty obvious by now. And I'm... I'm not /that/."

She adjusts the bag on her shoulder. "Anyway, I oughta know how this story goes, right? Kinda ironic, when you stop and think about it." There's no explanation of that one, before she heads out the door.