3055/A Long Flowing Conversation

A Long Flowing Conversation
Date of Scene:	23 August 2020
Location:	The Robin's Roost - Chelsea
Synopsis:	Conversations about many topics.
Cast of Characters:	Cassandra Cain, Hope Summers, Tim Drake, Conner Kent, Rose Wilson, Bart Allen

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Cassandra Cain has posed:
Cassandra Cain holds out her hand, clearly expecting her hoodie to be tossed back. She's beaming at the praise; her armoured outfit having been given rave reviews by both the lazy strong guy and the decently trained redhead. She nabs it if profferred, then heads toward the offer of food.

Realistically they keep making pizza though, so she's hoping there's something edible. You'd think after knowing her this long Tim would realize: she has never eaten junk food in her life. Part of the charm. Of being boring. Wait, I'm boring?

Eh.

Hope Summers has posed:
Hope tosses the hoodie back, heading upstairs before answering Tim in person. "She definitely could've if she wanted to," she says with a grin. "She's good. Understatement. The no talking thing's a little complicated, but that's our problem, not hers. I'd love to give it a full speed go, but I'd definitely want Laura nearby, if only so I had a chance of being alive after."

She doesn't seem bothered by the certainty that Cass is better than she is. If anything, she seems...happy about it. "Just getting up?" she asks, finishing off a bottle of water.

Tim Drake has posed:
Tim runs a hand through already mussed hair, grimacing. "Yeah. Rough patrol last night and then I had to go straight into work for a few hours. I crashed a bit when I got in." He glances towards the kitchens. "Hey AHAB. Can you make some..." he eyes Cass, weighing his thoughts a moment, then calling up the pantry info on the touchscreen. "Huh. Yeah, sounds great... let's try some chicken shawarma with Greek salad. Sounds good and I won't get griped at for eating garbage."

The pirate-hatted robot starts whirring about in the kitchen, leaving Tim sipping his coke and looking pleased. "See? Pirate robot butler is mostly functional."

Cassandra Cain has posed:
Better or worse is not really a concept that Cass addresses, so it's good that Hope isn't bothered by it. She is actually rather content to wrap the towel around her neck, then lean over the butler's screen while Tim is working on it. She reaches and taps a button or two of her own, showing an ability with ...uh..

Either she can recognize patterns, or she's able to read. Either way she just ordered herself rice and vegetables. Then she looks up and pulls off her shirt.

She walks off, tossing it at a laundry station, and wets her towel. Then wipes her shoulders, kind of, um...while not topless, she isn't exactly decent. And the scars are everywhere. Gunshot wounds, blades, all types. Everywhere.

Hope Summers has posed:
"Pirate robot butler is definitely a choice," Hope grins at Tim, watching AHAB for a few minutes. "Did you program him yourself?" While the others work up food, she drops down onto the nearest couch where she can see both of them. Apparently she's taking the Cass-ambush threat to heart and isn't going to make it easy. Easier, that is.

That includes when the other girl takes off her shirt. Hope doesn't seem flustered by it, though she notes the scars almost clinically. One more piece of information stored away for later consideration.

Tim Drake has posed:
Tim doesn't seem surprised at Cass... really nothing she does surprises him at this point. He has accepted her quirks rather amusedly. He does turn the other way when she strips off her shirt, but doesn't make a thing about it, just more reflexive. "Yeah. Rose wanted one, so I put it together and programmed it. Still have some tweaks I want to add, but it's fairly complete," he replies to Hope. "You're gonna want some of this, too, right Hope?" he's already making sure AHAB makes enough in case anyone else wanders in, which isn't unheard of.

Cassandra Cain has posed:
The hoodie goes on then, and Cass looks at them both. The twinkle in her eye says something, and just maybe, maybe, she's trying to learn something about her new team as much as they are about her. The reactions to what she did tell her things, of course they would. And besides, she probably could use a shower after waiting in the vent over the training room as long as she did.

She loses the smile quickly afterward though. She drops it like a hot rock, her face going soft and sad. She's looking at Hope, her eyes and head tilting with an unspoken question. SOMETHING in her reaction told her something, and it was one of those secrets you don't share.

She glances to Tim, then motions to Hope with her head.

Hope Summers has posed:
"Definitely," Hope answers Tim. "I pretty much never turn down food." At Cass's look, she tilts her head in turn, then lifts one shoulder in an easy shrug: Nothing to worry about, it seems to say. Whether she means Cass's scars or her own reason for not being upset about them...is a little more than gestures can convey.

"Hey, you said you had to work?" she looks back to Tim. "What is it you do? I've never really had a job, like a formal, normal...job sort of thing. Missions, yeah, but not jobs. How's that work with-" She breaks off, gesturing around them. "All of this?"

Tim Drake has posed:
Tim glances towards Hope at Cass's gesture and regards the redhead consideringly. Then he flashes Cass a grin and a half shrug. We'll know when we know. He looks back to Hope, then moves over to half lean, half sit on the couch arm. "Yeah, work. I'm a junior engineer at Wayne Tech in research and dev." Probably makes the 'I whipped up a robot butler in a couple weeks because my girlfriend told me to' make more sense with that. "It's part time, around school at Gotham U... which, ugh, starts back in a week. And how does it work?" Tim takes another drink of his soda. "With minimal sleep," he admits.

Cassandra Cain has posed:
Cassandra seems to sigh. She looks a lot less big and threatening now, kind of worried and a little bit tired. She nods to Hope, and to Tim, clearly accepting that patience is a requirement..and maybe her concern is unnecessary. Some things do handle themselves after all.

It's odd, she has no...how to explain. Her eyes lick over both of them, both very attractive people, but at no point does she give the impression that she's looking AT them. She's just looking, as if waiting for something to happen. Something she can help with.

And then she gets up, making some quick motions to Tim. Hands rubbing together, then on her neck, then in her hair?

Hope Summers has posed:
"I did try the school thing for a little bit. It...did not go well," Hope admits, looking just a little sheepish. "There were kind of other factors at play though. That sounds like a lot to juggle. Especially on not enough sleep," she adds with a rueful smile before catching sight of Cass's motions.

"Shower?" she guesses, looking between Cass and Tim. In case they've already got a better system of communication worked out.

Tim Drake has posed:
"Oh." Tim glances down the dorm hall on this floor. He moves off the couch, heading towards the hallway, and gestures towards one of the doors without a nameplate on it, then looks back at Cass. "There's a shower in there, should have towels and soap and everything." He makes subtle gestures as he speaks that seem to match his words but not quite be a true sign language, though the flow of it may implicate he does have experience with actual sign language as well. "Should be some basic workout clothing in the closet while your others wash, and a bunk if you need to sleep."

He moves back over to where he was after giving Cass a headsup on things, and glances back to Hope. "Yeah? It can be a bit much with everything else, but pretty sure my parents would have wanted me to finish my degree at least, no matter what else."

Cassandra Cain has posed:
Cassandra's nod to Hope's question gives away the Truth. She does, in fact, have at least a basic grasp of what they're saying. Given that Hope's not made any shower motions to speak of. Then she tracks Tim, as he gives her the tour.

However when his back is turned, to show her the shower facilities, she has a moment of what amounts to privacy with Hope. Given that she's all about the body language anyway. And in it, she does something likely unexpected.

She smiles. Not flirting, not hopeful, just a sense of appreciation. The woman has been doing her best to read Cass' body language all night, and doing a good job, and Cass seems to be grateful.

Then she tips a finger to her brow, walks up to Tim and gives the guy a squeeze with one arm, and then closes the door behind her. To shower, meditate, and not sleep. Night's still young after all.

And what she does outside is anyone's guess. But it probably involves punching.

Hope Summers has posed:
Hope grins back to Cass, dipping her chin in a respectful nod. She may not know what the exact story is there, but she can recognize something of a kindred spirit. "Nathan definitely wasn't worried about schools," she chuckles to Tim, leaning back against the couch and kicking her feet up. "Pretty sure I've already accomplished everything that was important to him. I hope I have, at least," she muses.

"Which is weird, you know? The freedom of it all. Of this whole place. I dunno. Anyhow. The job thing. I'm realizing I should probably have one. Or something like one. Some friends have been helping, and sure, I could get by without one, but I don't like having to count on other people for everything and I'm tired of scrounging all the time."

Tim Drake has posed:
Tim shrugs. "We've got extra dorms if you want someplace to crash with a robot butler while you figure it out. Bart's working at the zoo, but most of us have jobs or classes, I think I'm the only one insane enough to do both." He grins a bit. "And maybe getting feet under you will help you figure out what you want to do. I remember when Bart got here a couple years back, he was very out of place for awhile. Time and dimensional travel seems to do that to folks." He finishes his coke, slightly crumpling the outside of the can. "School could be one option, for sure, but there's plenty of things to do if you just want something stable." He chuckles a bit. "Actually, I won't lie, the... normalcy of going into an office helps sometimes. Helps remind me of who we do this for-- the people who need protecting."

Hope Summers has posed:
"Pretty much the only thing I know how to do is be a soldier," Hope shrugs, not seeming terribly put out about it. "And I get the impression that's usually kind of a full-time job around here. Although you know, I saw that security guy at the club and I started thinking I could probably do that. Security, that is. Flexible hours, good connections, good chance to gather information. And I get the sense that a lot of places do that sort of thing under the table, which is useful since I'm not exactly..."

She trails off, looking up at the ceiling. "Huh. I wonder if my mom's alive here."

Tim Drake has posed:
Tim frowns a bit. "The security guy? You mean... tall guy, eyepatch, looks like he might kill you?" He grimaces a bit. "Yeah, you don't want to be like him nor work there if he's running their security staff. Trust me." He isn't saying the idea of doing security work is bad, however.

Hope Summers has posed:
"Really? 'Cause he sure seemed like he knew what he was doing." Hope tucks one arm behind her head, frowning slightly. "You know, it's funny, but when I first saw him for half a second I thought it was my- Nathan. The man who raised me. They look a //lot// alike. Same methods, too," she muses, then looks a little embarrassed. "Which obviously isn't a reason to do anything, of course."

Hope is remarkably well-adjusted, all things considered, but she's not completely immune to the effects of a seriously damaged childhood.

"Anyhow, I doubt I could get a job //there// regardless. Place that high-profile being run by someone who knows what they're doing probably isn't hiring teenagers with no paperwork."

Tim Drake has posed:
"Ugh. Your... dad? is like Rose's?" Tim rubs his temples slightly. "Wew. You two should hang out, or maybe not. That guys was--is-- Rose's dad. And he's an //asshole//." There's a bit of vehemence in his tone at that, as if there's a bit of personal venom there. "But my advice is to stay away from Slade. He nearly killed Conner last time we tangled with him." He pauses. "Masked. I don't think he knows we know who he is, and thankfully he doesn't know who WE are. Except Rose, of course." He grimaces. "Ugh. Fuck that guy." That latter is spoken with the sort of tone used by someone who doesn't swear quite like that often.

Hope Summers has posed:
"My dad is the greatest soldier ever born." The utter faith and certainty with which Hope says those words makes it clear that it's a pillar of reality for her. And whether or not it's true, she seems to have enough experience for it to still have weight.

The rest of that takes a moment to sink in, but when it does, she sits up, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. "Whoa, hold up. So. The big security guy from the club is Rose's Dad and //also// the guy who kicked all of your asses?"

There's a beat, then she tilts her head, nodding. "Yeah, no. That tracks."

Shaking her head to refocus, she rubs a hand at the back of her neck and works it through her mind again. "Did you //know// he ran security there when you went with Rose?" she asks, arching a brow. Sure, that's the important part.

Tim Drake has posed:
"No," Tim scowls. He's used to knowing //everything// (or damned close) so being taken off guard by that had really shook him. "I looked into it. He was put on the board of the club a little while ago. I kinda figured he might be a VIP there, but the board... ugh. Means he has sway and say in how the place is run." There's a darker scowl. "And access to things like, I dunno, the logs of who borrows the VIP suites. He left Rose a... note... under our door the next morning." He looks extremely sour about it.

Hope Summers has posed:
"Oof. That suuuuuucks." Hope looks at Tim, then looks around at the base. "Dude. Are you- Wow, you are //so// screwed." So helpful.

"You know he's totally going to do a full background on you, right? Including property holdings. Your name's not on this place, is it? What about the power draw? Tell me you're running on some off grid generators in unpermitted areas that aren't on the city plans. And what about exterior visibility? I mean sure, no one who walks past the place is going to notice anything, but someone who //wants// to check the place out?"

Hope's already in damage control mode, the way she looks around the room immediately assessing every possible security tisk.

Tim Drake has posed:
Tim actually laughs. "The theater is actually in my name-- well, in my trust's name. It's complicated. But the front is meant to be a cover. Power draw is actually accounted for, most of the base is actually on a combination of geothermal and hydropower-- the only stuff drawing off the city mains is the main house-- which is very clearly the house of a spoiled rich kid who doesn't feel like rebuilding his burned down manor." That little last bit is somewhat embittered. But he continues. "And no, nothing on permits, nothing on anything. ...I may have some small experience with doing this." He grins a bit ruefully. "And he's free to look at my background. I am who I am, and it's very, annoyingly, public. My family name doesn't allow it to be any other way, so I lean into it. I should probably give you the full tour of all the security stuff, actually. You'd probably appreciate it more than the other do." That's obviously a minor jab and a long-term sticking point.

"Rose and I usually use the front door," he points out dryly. "Into the house. After he surprised us at dinner a few weeks ago, we pretty much accepted he knows about us, and to be fair, it's not like we're hiding anything. Based on his note for her, I'm almost entirely sure he thinks she's just..." he winces, "I guess screwing some rich idiot until she gets bored." In fairness, Rose doing that isn't entirely out of character. She's hopped from guy to guy before out of boredom.

Hope Summers has posed:
Hope seems somewhat reassured that he has answers to her questions, nodding as she slowly starts to lean back again. Still, she seems more...guarded than she did before. Like she's adjusted some setting in the back of her mind. "Security's important when there are people after you," she agrees, nodding again. "It's what keeps you alive."

That part's easy. The rest of it... She purses her lips, taking a moment to consider her words. "I'm not...exactly an expert on relationships," she prefaces herself. "But it sounds like you've gotten a lot of push-back on the whole you and Rose thing. Must be hard."

Tim Drake has posed:
Tim shrugs. "It's... complicated." That's an understatement. "Back when all this started, it was just the four of us: me, Conner, Cassie, and Rose. Bart showed up a year or so later." He sighs. "Rose... look, you haven't gotten to meet her, and I want you to do it with an open mind. But she's a bit intense. She always has been, since we all met up and started do this hero thing together on and off." He leans against the wall, folding his arms across his chest. "Her dad really did a number on her. The worst part is? I wouldn't say it to her myself, but as much of an asshole as he is to her, I'm pretty sure in his own fucked up way he cares for her and thinks he's helping her." That belief, if nothing else, was cinched with the note and the paperwork Slade had left for his daughter.

"She left us to go... merc, I guess." He hesitates to say the real, more blunt truth, which is far darker that mere mercenary jobs. "She'd come back for awhile, there'd be a screaming match... usually her and Conner, but Cassie... you see how she can get... she wasn't always quiet either... and then poof. Rose is gone again, and we don't know when or if she's coming back." He looks a little distant. "Just how it was. Like I said. Complicated."

Hope Summers has posed:
Hope listens quietly, intent. Not just to the words, but also to what isn't said. "Man. I get the feeling she and I are going to get along just fine," she says with a wry smile, rubbing a hand at the back of her neck. "So there's a lot of old bad blood and...grudges, then," she summarizes. "And mistrust. Yeah. I get that."

Her own team did try to kill her once. Teams aren't always rainbows and sunshine.

"Sounds like you must really care about her. And like that's probably hard sometimes. But if she keeps coming back, even when coming back isn't always great...Then I'm guessing she cares about you - and the others - too."

Tim Drake has posed:
Tim grins a little at that. "That's the hope, at least," he notes, pushing a bit of cheer into his tone. "But lets get food, and then I'll show you the security I've got built in here. I'm always game for more upgrades," his eyes sparkle a bit at that with an almost manic glee, "so if you see a hole, we'll patch it. Most of the rest of 'em call me paranoid, but paranoia is just good thinking and it keeps people from getting killed." Actually, out of the original team, so to speak, the only one who shares his paranoid //is// Rose. The others are far more lax and simply humor him.

Hope Summers has posed:
"It's not paranoia if they're out to get you. And they're definitely out to get you," Hope grins, pushing off the couch to head over to the kitchen. "Growing up, it was a nightly thing," she explains. "Every time Nathan and I made camp for the night, we checked the security. I don't..." She tilts her head, considering. "The first time I ever remember //not// going through the whole checklist was about a month after we'd made it back and stopped Bastion. And in my defense, it was on an island populated by X-Men, so." She grins, shrugging. "Pretty secure in the first place."

Tim Drake has posed:
"See, that's exactly how I feel-- and yeah, everyone is definitely out to get you. Or us. Whatever." Tim grins, making his way into the kitchen and grabbing a plate of the food AHAB has finished fixing, actually relaxing slightly. It's hitting all the proper food groups without being junk, so less griping from the girlfriend later, who has on occasion gotten onto him lately regarding his recent eating habits... which have consisted of either non-existent or 'fast and easy'. He listens to her comment about Bastion and the island of X-men, and tilts his head slightly. "In the other world, right? Genosha? I'm guessing it wasn't wrecked by Brainiac there." A fair guess on all counts, even if not entirely correct.

Hope Summers has posed:
"Uh, not Genosha, no," Hope shakes her head. "It was called Utopia, and it was off the coast of San Francisco. I'm //pretty// sure it wasn't natural either, but I honestly never really got around to asking where it came from," she admits, filling up a bowl for herself. No one would dare to call anything she eats a 'diet' or standard enough for 'nutrition,' but she seems to have adapted well enough.

"Things were...different there." She pokes around in the bowl, taking a bite. "Worse. For mutants especially. Anti-mutant sentiment was much higher, but something else had happened. All but about two hundred mutants had lost their powers and no more new mutants were being born. I'm sure you can imagine how mutants being on the edge of extinction didn't improve things with the bigots."

Tim Drake has posed:
Tim wrinkles his nose. "That's... yeah. Some of them are pretty..." he shakes his head. "I'm glad the Purifiers stay out of Gotham. For whatever reason, we don't end up with a ton of mutants around, or they lay low if they are. Bad enough dealing with clowns and crocs without having to deal with religious zealots too." He begins eating, making a 'hm, nice' face on his first bite. New recipe loadout seems to be working well. "They are pretty plentiful in New York City, even if not always obvious. You'll be enjoying your day, and then one opens their mouth and talks." He scowls a bit. "Not a fan."

Hope Summers has posed:
"I've been trying to gather intel on them," Hope admits, taking another bite. "Get ahead of things, if I can. Find out what they know, what they expect." That's an odd thing to investigate, isn't it?

"But. Not the biggest priority. Anyhow, things are //way// different here. Gotham, the Justice League, Kelly. People I knew as adults are still young, but tech and other things seem to be...the same or more advanced. So it's not like I'm preventing my future or 'changing' anything. Which means it doesn't even matter that it's not where I'm from, because I can only do what I would have done anyhow: my best to make things better."

It has the sound of something she's spent some time working out on her own.

Tim Drake has posed:
"That's all any of us can do, regardless of where, when, or what world we're from," Tim replies evenly. "Just do our best to make things better, little bit by little bit. And maybe one day all those little bits will add up to something great." He looks up from his plate. "I'm glad you're here, Hope. I think that you'll find your place and a lot of good will come of it."

Hope Summers has posed:
"I'm glad I'm here too," Hope admits, looking around as she chews. "The X-Men are family, but...I mean, you know. Family. They kind of have to take you in, right? And you do what you can for them, and them for you, and you never really //leave// them, but eventually you've got to make your own place. Have a little more space to figure things out."

She looks back, grin flashing. "Doesn't hurt that you guys seem to have your shit together," she says lightly. "I'm //really// not use to that."

Tim Drake has posed:
Tim laughs at that. "Oh man. Don't tell Cassie that, she would probably massively disagree," he grins. "I mean, we try. But this..." he gestures to the base, "is new to us, too. Being a formal team and all. Before, like I said... we just kind of did stuff, sometimes. When I wasn't patrolling or up to my neck in things for the Bats, and Cassie wasn't doing Amazon things..." he trails off, not finishing anymore of that thought. "But yeah. This gives us all something solid to fall back on and a place where we can all just..." he repeats what Hope said earlier with a small smirk, "figure things out."

Hope Summers has posed:
"Yeah, she did not seem...great...at the club," Hope agrees, rueful. "Or the other day. Seems like she's having a little bit of a tough time with something. Kind of not my place to say anything about it though. I'm still making sure I get names straight at this point. And a general idea of what everyone can do."

She takes a few more bites, pensive. "Do you guys have footage of the fight with Deathstroke?" she asks suddenly.

Tim Drake has posed:
Tim frowns. "Yes and no. I have the recording in the lab from where I was... ah... observing." He grimaces. "I was too injured to go. I still don't know if that is for better or worse. But I did get into the security cameras in the area to help try and help with tactics. Even if it all went to shit." He looks angry with himself for a moment. "But if you want to see it, I can pull it up."

Hope Summers has posed:
"Yeah, when you get a chance," Hope nods. "No rush. It'd be a good way to get a feel for the team and for what we're up against." And maybe it would help her get past that weird feeling that he reminds her of Nathan, because that is //not// something she wants to have to work out in the middle of a fight.

Catching the shift in his expression, she arches a brow. "Are you mad because you weren't there, or because it didn't go the way you planned?"

Tim Drake has posed:
"Both." Tim frowns. "Too many unknown variables, last minute changes. I like having a solid plan and the plan working. My plans usually do. But..." he frowns. "It's also... before we were just a loose group of friends who did this hero stuff. I'm supposed to be the leader now," not that he really wanted the role, but more fell into it because of circumstance... not that he will ever complain. He does the Job even if he isn't comfortable with it... "Hell of a leader, not even being there for the first real battle we had as a team. If Laura didn't heal like she does, she would have died. Conner nearly did. It was a mess."

Hope Summers has posed:
"I've been there," Hope nods, sober. "Someone- When we first got back, someone - more than one someone - gave their lives getting me back to Utopia. And after, there was a time my team and I didn't get there in time. Those things..."

She takes a deep breath, forcing it out slowly. "Part of leading a team means trusting your team, too. And part of trusting your team is letting them take responsibility for things. It can't all be on you. Otherwise you break. And you breaking usually leads to //way// worse things. Promise."

She straightens up then, heading for the fridge to grab a drink for herself. "So what went wrong?" she asks, gesturing inside to ask if there's anything he wants while she's there.

Tim Drake has posed:
Tim shakes his head to the offer of anything from the fridge. "What went wrong? Man. Where to begin... first of all, he was absolutely prepared for us. I don't know if he knew we were coming or if it was just luck. Everything about the situation was just bad. And he's got some kind of suit I've never seen before. It seems to render most of our attacks moot. Hell, Rose tried to put a couple of big bullets in him," a mild understatement, "and he shrugged them off like nothing. Laura's claws were no match for his sword. And he was carrying a Kryptonite dagger." Tim just sighs. "I knew he was dangerous but I didn't expect this. Not at all."

Hope Summers has posed:
"Preparation," Hope nods, taking out a bottle of soda and going back to her seat. "It's not paranoia if the kids are coming for you," she smiles faintly, though it doesn't last long. "The only thing I ever saw that stood up to those claws was Captain America's shield," she muses. "Which can also stop bullets. So maybe the suit and the swords are something similar? It'd take some serious contacts //and// money to get that, though. And what are there, like three Kryptonians in the world, one of whom people thought was dead until super recently? That's a whole different level of prepared."

"So we're talking a high level of resources, an exceptionally high level of skill, //and// the mindset and training to use all of it. Why's he a bad guy again?"

Tim Drake has posed:
Tim shakes his head. "No clue... but..." he glances away, looking discomfited. "He wasn't always. I mean, he used to be military." He shrugs. "I figure if he is likely digging into me, fair is fair, right? But yeah. He used to be a... maybe not good guy but at least not a bad one. I don't know what happened, but." He lets out a soft breath. "Something did. And I think..." he sets his jaw. "I think it happened to Rose too. But I can't be sure." He doesn't offer details, or reasoning. While he seems fairly willing to do so over Slade, he seems protective of Slade's daughter.

Hope Summers has posed:
"I meant more...what'd he do to qualify as not a good guy," Hope admits. "Also, why's he coming after a team that includes his daughter? I mean." She pauses, grimacing. "I'm just saying, there was a point in my life where I sat at a table full of people who I knew were //good// people fighting a good fight, and someone asked who at the table hadn't taken a bad turn, and...it was them and me. So I guess I kind of want to hope there's a way to...fix things, you know?"

She takes a drink, a crooked smile flickering as she shrugs. "If it was my dad, you can bet I'd just about tear down the world before I gave up on him."

Tim Drake has posed:
"We went after him, actually," Tim shrugs. "Got word he was going to take out some pharmaceutical exec. We moved in to prevent it." He looks rueful. "And as for that... fixing things, Hope?" He lifts a brow. "That's why I told you right after we ran into each other that there's a firm no-kill policy. I believe that everyone can be... fixed. Rehabilitated."

He stands up, taking his empty plate to the sink. "And yeah, that even includes Rose's psycho dad. If there's a way to bring him back to the side of good? I'm all for it. I don't pretend any of it is easy, but the right path often isn't the easy one."

Hope Summers has posed:
"So...how come he was taking out the pharmaceutical exec?" Hope asks slowly, arching a brow. She's not //saying// that drug company execs aren't always the nicest people and maybe there was a good reason to take aim at one, but it's not all that hard to read between the lines. There's definitely an odd mix of optimism and brutal practicality when dealing with Hope.

Tim Drake has posed:
"Assassination contract. Rival company." He doesn't look pleased. "Found out because the guy who took out the contract was running his mouth about playing that company's stock in relation to it." Tim rubs his temples a bit. "I mean, to be incredibly fair? That's not usually the sorts of targets Deathstroke hits. Usually it's other mercs, or metehumans, or..." he waves a hand dismissively. "It doesn't matter. Killing people for money isn't the kind of thing a good guy does, and believe me..." he narrows his eyes. "I knew Rose before she went off with her Dad to train. Or whatever it was he did. She left a bit intense, a little crazy, with two eyes and a lot of determination for her Dad to accept her."

His hand s grip the side of the counter and he glowers into nothing. "She came back with one eye, a lot more crazy, more trust issues than I think I can ever get her past, and flipping back and forth between hating him and wanting to be good enough for him." He grits his teeth for a moment. "So, yeah, I'm not really happy with whatever happened there. I'm just happy she's back."

Hope Summers has posed:
"I mean, killing //bad// people for money and country is kind of the definition of a soldier," Hope points out, ever so helpfully. "So doing it for private contractors is not a big step. Actually, even the government hires private contractors. Which is really weird when you think about it, right? Like...you're a government, you've got more money and resources and power than just about anyone, but you're going out and hiring someone? I feel like it's a commentary on operational inefficiency."

Which is roughly when she realizes she's gone a bit of course, clearing her throat with a sidelong glance in Tim's direction. "Do you think maybe you're picking some fights a little bit above your weight class //maybe// more because of what he's done to Rose than because of what he's doing for business?" she asks cautiously, raising her hands in front of herself quickly. "Not accusing. Just...putting it out there."

Tim Drake has posed:
Tim glances back over and gives a half laugh. "Picking fights above my weight class is a fact of life," he grins a bit. "I'm the only one here without some sort of powers, or healing factor. I'm just a guy with a stick and some really neat toys." He shrugs. "But no. If it hadn't been Deathstroke on that contract, it would have been Bullseye, or Deadshot, or someone from the League of Assassins. And we would have gone anyway. Going after the Terminator is incidental more than purposeful. If he just stopped killing people, he wouldn't be someone we cross paths with."

Conner Kent has posed:
"I think he had prepared for Superman," points out Conner, coming from the residential area. "It was Metropolis, after all. Kryptonite is expensive. Making it into a knife must have been even more expensive. What are you guys eating?" He peers around, "where is Cassandra?"

Looks like he finished his phone calls. And he must have heard them talk, despite his super-hearing not working at full power right now.

Hope Summers has posed:
"Hey, don't diss the sticks and really neat toys," Hope smirks. "Powers fail. I spent most of my life without any, and honestly right now mine aren't...working like they used to, either. And, if we're getting technical, they're not my powers anyhow."

Leaving the topic of whether or not killing some people is all that bad for now, she taps her fingers on the counter, frowning. "The science folks back home called it 'pluripotent echopraxia,'" she explains. "Basically, if there's a mutant power, I can copy it. I //used// to be able to copy anything for...I don't know, miles. Multiple powers at once, pretty much whenever I wanted. And when I did, it was maximum strength, with full control. Ever since I got here? Not so much."

As Conner returns, she looks up, brows rising. "That makes //way// more sense," she muses. "The Kryptonite thing. No offense, just...Preparation is one thing, but preparation for something there are three possible uses for is a lot. Cass went to go get cleaned up. You're safe until she decides to leave the showers through the air vents," she grins.

Tim Drake has posed:
Tim shakes his head at Conner, grinning a bit. He gestures towards the chicken shawarma, rice, and greek salad AHAB had made. See? Always need extra. "Actual food," he replies to his best friend. "And yeah, Cass hit the showers. I showed her to one of the open rooms."

He glances to Hope, and lets out a low whistle. "That's an insane and awesome power to have. Basically a copy-cat power? That's cool. And maybe your system is still adjusting from the move into this reality."

He nods to Conner regarding the Kryptonite. "That was my assumption as well, since Superman is based out of Metropolis."

Conner Kent has posed:
Conner grins at seeing the food. "I am starting to like the robot," he comments. Then he glances in the shower's direction, considering Hope's words. "I think she was trying to tell us something and I suspect she is going to keep doing that until she is sure we understood."

Which is going to involve more ambushes? No big deal. But he wants to see Cass trying that on Bart, though. It is going to be hilarious.

No comment about Hope power. Truth is he thinks most of the mutants of northeast US move to New York. Being in Gotham is going to limit Hope quite a bit. Unless Joker, Penguin, Killer Croc and the other crazies are actually mutants. In which case it might be better if Hope stays in New York. Because... ugh.

Hope Summers has posed:
"That, or getting rid of the Phoenix caused some sort of burnout, or backlash," Hope shrugs to Tim. "Worth it, though. Now I need to be closer to the people who actually have the power, and it's one at a time, and there definitely seems to be more of a learning curve. But the good part is that as long as Laura's around, chances of death are greatly decreased. That, and I spent most of my life without powers anyhow. Managed just fine."

She nods to Conner, taking a drink of her soda. "Pretty sure the message was be prepared and here's how to hit better when things happen," she grins. "I've got a friend I'd love to introduce to her. I think they'd have a lot to...talk about."

Tim Drake has posed:
Tim smirks at Conner. "Starting to like AHAB? What's not to like? He even has a pirate hat." He does actually grab another soda from the fridge. "And if Cass is trying to tell or teach you something: learn it." He gives Conner a serious look. "I know you're usually all super powerful, but what happens if you get stuck around some green rocks again?"

Conner Kent has posed:
"Same thing that will happen if you get stuck around radioactive rocks, Tim. I will die," points out Conner with a shrug. "Unless I wear something like an Iron Man suit made of lead." Which is not going to happen. No style.

"Now, it is far more likely we have to fight guys with machine guns or flamethrowers than Kryptonite knives, so I think I am still safer than you in ninety nine percent of situations. Hell, I can handle magic much better than the other Kryptonians, I am good." It is not as if he gets injured often. He is the toughest of the group. Except maybe Cassie, who is not even bothered by green rocks.

Hope Summers has posed:
"Until you come up on someone who's as strong as you are," Hope points out to Conner, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. "Then it comes down to skill, planning, and technique. In a world full of super-powered people, you can't ever be sure that your powers alone are going to get you through things. Besides, you can't control powers. They're just...given to you. You, and other people. What you //can// control is training and preparation."

She really is the oddest combination of the top of the class student who does all their homework and knows all the answers, and the kid in the back of the class who walks out of class without saying anything.

Tim Drake has posed:
"I like her, Conner," Tim says dryly. "Planning, strategy, preparation-- agreeing with my security protocols..." He gives the half-Kryptonian a look. "Can we keep her?" It's a joke, because obviously she's already part of the team.

Conner Kent has posed:
"I have met and fought beings stronger than me," notes Conner. He has been around doing the super-hero thing for three years, he is not new at this. "And sometimes I have taken them down by being smarter or just better at fighting."

So, he is not exactly disagreeing. "But look. Humans have been fighting each other with pointy stick and bare fists for millennia, and with guns for a couple centuries. There is a lot of technique and tactics, and written books about it. On the other hand, there are no manuals about fighting with super-powers. And no one has yet developed martial arts for guys that can lift fifty tons. Unless maybe someone of the Amazons or the Asgardians did, gotta check that." Beat. "But even so their powers are not the same as mine, or Flash, or Mister Fantastic. We have to rely on personal experience, no one can teach us much. I can spar three hours a day with Cassie and maybe Megan, but if then I got in a fight with Lobo or Rhino, they have different superpowers, so it won't help that much."

As for Hope, he glances at her. "I don't know. You already have a girlfriend. You gotta stop flirting with cute girls with guns or you will get into trouble."

Because Tim has been poking fun at his (allegedly!) flirting with everything female, so payback was due.

Hope Summers has posed:
"I haven't even met Rose and I already feel too much solidarity to go there," Hope smirks at Conner, rolling her eyes with good-natured humor. "Besides, who else is going to go shoot things with me?"

Priorities!

Her smile fades to disappointment then. "Man. I blew up the gun," she adds with a mournful look at Conner. "Not on purpose, just. You know. Brought it to a fight, things were going well, then it got caught in the middle of a sort of electromagnetic tug of war and my modifications do the power source shorted out and..."

She claps her hands together then throws them to her sides, making an explosive noise.

Tim Drake has posed:
Allegedly? Man, that's a bus Conner doesn't want to throw nerdBat under. "Yes, I do," he replies with an amused and 'try me' tone. "Is this flirting? If it is, only because you've rubbed off on me, man. I'm not even good at flirting with my actual girlfriend." He grins a bit. At least he has the very distinct impression Hope isn't going to make assumptions like Laura had, so he's not nearly as uncomfortable as he had been with that same bit lobbed at him earlier. "Besides, I know better. That whole 'no powers' and sleeping in the same bed as Rose? Do I look like I want to wake up stabbed or strangled?" That's delivered lightly and jokingly.

He glances towards Hope's rebuttal and expression of what happened to one of her weapons. He winces. "Glad you didn't get caught in the backlash of it blowing up," he notes. "And," a long-suffering sigh, "yeah, Rose would probably be up for shooting things. You might be able to find her down in the range from time to time."

Conner Kent has posed:
"Probably Laura," at shooting things. The gun? What gun? Oh... right. Hope stole several Intergang guns that should have gone to the police. We better don't tell Tim. Did she blow up them all?

"Rose keeps a few guns in her room," or kept. Probably still has them, unless Tim has convinced her not to. But it seems unlikely. "We are trying to avoid killing people, but it is possible to use non-lethal ammo. There are also fabricators downstairs." Because copying Laura's powers would mean claws, which are also pretty deadly.

Hope Summers has posed:
"I didn't...not get caught in the backlash," Hope coughs, looking sheepish. "But I got mostly to cover, and we had a healing type around after, so. Up side, it definitely took care of the problem. Part of the modifications to the power source included a stun setting," she adds to Conner, smile crooked. "X-Men are also pretty disapproving of the whole killing people thing. I'm pretty sure I can reconstruct it. Not that different from the forty-seventh century gun Nathan used to carry, and I knew how to fix that."

The word 'fabricator' does get her to perk up a bit. "Fabricators? Cool. I might have to check that out."

Tim Drake has posed:
"Yeah, Fabrication is behind the garage on Sublevel one. I think I have pretty much everything we might need there for making weapons, tools, costumes and armor." He grins. "I've got a project building in one of the printers right now, but generally they're open." He takes a swig of his coke. "Energy weapons are great for stunning, absolutely." And obviously his preference. "I prefer melee myself, but I've been trained on guns. Not my preferred by any means."

Conner Kent has posed:
"See, I have not trained with guns," comments Conner, finding a seat and bringing a plate full of chicken shawarma and some salad. "So, if you want company in the firing range, I can go with you and see how that goes. It will maybe be useful to know how they work for this job. But I don't think I am going to take a gun with me for missions, I have better options."

Hope Summers has posed:
"Oh, Tim. You don't have to worry about keeping me. You have to worry about getting rid of me," Hope grins at Tim. Oh, the things she'll build!

"I can get into melee, it's just..." She looks up toward the ceiling, rubbing a hand at the back of her neck. "The thing is, growing up, I never learned non-lethal anything. Because the primary mission was //survival//. So when it comes to it, my instincts are all wrong for //this// world. With a gun, I've at least got the distance and time to make a choice instead of acting on instinct. Usually," she adds, turning a slightly sheepish look on Tim.

Looking to Conner, she tilts her head. "Can't you do the laser eyes thing? That's basically a gun. A brain gun."

Tim Drake has posed:
At Hope's comment, Tim actually //does// look behind him and then towards the door, expecting Rose to pop up. Because that WOULD be his luck. Phew. No needing to deal with a squinting eye and an explanation that sounds worse than it is. "I can understand that," he replies regarding Hope's melee training. "I learned the opposite. I mean, yes, we want to survive, but all my hand-to-hand training has focused on how to avoid lethal or permanently damaging strikes or holds and keep to just subduing the opponent and submission." He shrugs. "But I also wasn't time-hopping for my life."

The brain gun comment earns a snicker. He drinks his coke. He does not say anything, but the snicker and the look on his face says more than enough on that score.

Conner Kent has posed:
Conner nods, listening with a serious expression at Hope's not very fun-sounding childhood, then hehs at the last comment. "The 'Heat Vision' uh? Gives me some range, but it is not very powerful and it takes a lot of energy."

Then he nods at Tim. "Crime-fighting here involves quite a bit of trying to avoid deaths. There is a due process and laws, and our legal position is a bit strange. And, of course, there is Gotham way of doing things. Bat-thing. Which tends to be even weirder."

Rose Wilson has posed:
"He'll drop like a dead body." Rose comments, because although she doesn't have Conner or Laura's hearing, or Megan's brain stuff, she's got good ears and moves quietly. Not as quiet as others, like NerdBat and Laura, but still quiet! So she heard some of the conversation, enough to parse together a response that might be far off the mark.

It's clear, however, that Rose was out, or is going out, as she shows up in jeans and a t-shirt, as well as boots and a leather jacket. Plus, she's got a duffle bag slung over her shoulder.

Hope Summers has posed:
"I learned a little bit more of tht not too long ago," Hope nods. "But we were under a little bit of a time crunch. And the point was less the fighting technique and more..." She pauses, taking a drink. "There was a literal dragon involved. It was weird even by my standards."

She leaves it at that, perking up a bit as Rose appears. "Hey," she greets, waving. "You're Rose, right? I'm Hope. I've heard good things." Good by Hope's standards, at least.

Tim Drake has posed:
Tim eyes the duffle bag on Rose's shoulder, blue eyes flicking from it to Rose's eye, then just takes a drink of his soda. "Hey, Rose." He smiles at her, a mixture of warmth with a hint of concern. "Want to grab something to eat?" There's plenty left from AHAB's cooking on the main counter, his own plate from earlier already in the sink.

He looks to Hope with amused delight. "An //actual// dragon? Okay, I have to hear more about this."

Rose Wilson has posed:
"Hi, Hope." Rose replies, giving Hope a curious look, then she glances at Tim with a slightly upwards lofted brow before she drops her duffle bag onto the floor next to the door.

"I've eaten." She shakes her head, but heads towards the fridge to grab herself a water before finding a spot, her attention turning back to Hope, "So who are you?" Of course, she's not meaning name.

Hope Summers has posed:
"It's a //long// story," Hope smiles ruefully back at Tim, shaking her head. "Part of the whole...Phoenix thing." At Rose's question, she pauses for a moment, trying to find the most succinct way to put it. Oddly enough, she doesn't seem put out by the question.

"Mutant Messiah slash Antichrist - depending on who you ask - from another reality, dropped her post-confrontation with a cosmic power of evolution and rebirth," she finally says, nodding once to herself afterwards as if approving of the summary. "That's the gist of it, at least."

Tim Drake has posed:
"Man, dragons, hydras..." Tim mock grumbles. "The girls around here get all the fun. I just get to deal with psychotic clowns, half-crazed ex district attorneys, and owl ninja zombies." He moves from the counter to take a seat next to Rose, squeezing her arm lightly a moment before relaxing back into his seat. "Though maybe you should see if Cassie will take BOTH of you to Themiscryra sometime."

Rose Wilson has posed:
There should be some kind of disbelief or shock, or even confusion to what Hope answers. But there isn't, instead there is just a nod from Rose, "A messiah for one group is just the antichrist for another." She leans over to press a kiss against Tim's cheek when he sits down next to her, potentially to reassure whatever underlying concern he has over the appearance of that duffle bag.

"I don't have dragons or hydras. That's Cassie." Then she glances at Hope, "And evidently Hope. I don't have anything but whatever gets in my way." Like clowns, and mobsters, her dad and owl ninja zombies. Which, speaking of those, "I'm on the way to visit a friend for something that'll maybe help with them."

Hope Summers has posed:
"I'm interested in hearing more about these owl ninja zombies," Hope chuckles, nodding to Rose's summary. "And the Amazons, for that matter. And it was just one dragon," she adds with a grin. "Anyhow. Owl ninja zombies. Are they actual owls? And are they mind-controlled zombies, or undead zombies? Because, you know. There's a difference in allowable force there." She looks between Rose and Tim, apparently ready to roll with this one.

Tim Drake has posed:
"Not... sure, actually." Tim frowns. "The one that attacked me seemed pretty lively at least. She nearly killed me. Then a whole hoard of them attacked..." he pauses, "my older brother, and if Rose hadn't been there he'd be toast." He leans over and returns the cheek kiss to Rose at that point. "But they were both pretty sure the ones that attacked him were not alive. They even brought back a head." He pauses a beat. "It lived in the freezer until we took it to the Batman."

Rose Wilson has posed:
"Human." Rose replies, for some definition of the phrase human. "They kept coming regardless of wounds until the head was removed, or they exploded. I wedged my sword in the neck of one, and it kept walking."

There is a sidelong look at Tim, but then she offers to Hope, "I'm going to get explosives."

Hope Summers has posed:
"Like wedged to where the spinal cord was severed?" Hope asks Rose like it's a completely normal topic of conversation. "I guess that'd imply they're being animated by something other than actual life, so." She grins. "Yeah. Explosives. Single yield for taking them out one at a time, or are you planning on luring them into one place and bringing it down around them?"

There's no judgment from her at the talk of explosives or destroying the zombies. No objections either. Just a practical assessment of the strategy of it all. And then something else registers and she quirks a brow over at Tim. "By 'lived' do you mean you kept it there, or...Like you'd open the freezer and get an earful of threats?"

Tim Drake has posed:
"I mean, it stayed pretty still while it was there by the ice cream," Tim smirks. "And it's back at the Bat Base in the labs there for analysis. The boss hasn't given us any updates yet, but it's only a matter of time." He frowns. "Though I probably should be spending more time there helping him with that."

Rose Wilson has posed:
"Side of the neck." Rose clearly didn't check, or get the chance to check, if the spinal cord was severed. But now she's thinking, and probably considering experimenting.

"Single yield, unless I can convince someone there's a warehouse in the Narrows that needs demolishing. Then I know me and..." She glances at Tim, adding, "A friend would be able to lure them in and bring it down. But that might not be //all// of them."

Conner Kent has posed:
Conner has been quietly listening the conversation about Hope's 'secret origins' and the Court of Owl zombie ninjas. The shawarma also kept him busy. "Hope needs a new gun," he mentions Rose. "Did you take a look at the fabricators in the basement, by the way?" That is for Rose. Not sure how good a gunsmith she is, but maybe they can build something cool but less killy for her too.

Bart Allen has posed:
Bart Allen comes down the stairs in a blur and blurs around the kitchen for a moment before coming back over. He has a bowl of the new JLA cereal complete with marsh mellow villains you can put the bit on. "Hey guys what's up?" He asks standing near the others as he munches his food.

Hope Summers has posed:
"Injectable trackers," Hope suggests to Rose. "If they're undead, they're not feeling pain, no one's going to think it's weird if you manage to get something into them in the middle of the fight. And no one's going to look all that hard at the injury to notice there's something in it either. You track it back to wherever they're coming from..." She trails off, then blinks as Bart appears, smile flickering.

"Owl zombie ninjas, apparently," she offers helpfully. "The gun exploded," she adds to Rose, clarifying Conner's comment. "Energy source got hit with a few too many electromagnetic pulses at opposite frequencies."

Tim Drake has posed:
"So far," Tim points out, "they haven't been back since the incident with Red Hood and Ravager." He frowns, obviously not feeling confident in this next bit, "So maybe they got them all." He doubts it, and that's clear. "But either way, we need them to pop up again before we can track them //or// blow them to kingdom come." He shoots Rose a look at that last bit. "And even if the Talons are taken care of, it's the Court that allegedly pulls their strings. I've been looking into them, but I can't find anything."

He looks up at Bart and gives him a nod. "Hey, Bart."

Bart Allen has posed:
Bart Allen looks to the others and says "So we got the zombie head out of the freezer?" He zooms over to check, leans in and sniffs the freezer, before running back over, and says "Thats good, I mean the Jersey zombie skunk ape war aint supposed to happen for another ten years or so." He says with a straight face and is back to eating his cereal.

Conner Kent has posed:
"Bartman," greets Conner. "Hope, this is Impulse, our speedster and one of my oldest friends." Admittedly 'oldest' for Conner is not much, since the clone has been around only for three years. "Hope has come to hang out for a bit," he explains. "So, we have been here just talking about... our stuff." Meaning, the strange things they do and the weird stuff that happens to them.

Hope Summers has posed:
"I feel like 'Jersey zombie skunk ape war' is a solid argument for better scientific regulations," Hope muses, less concerned about the 'not for ten years' part than about just how that would come about. "Hey," she adds with a grin and a wave for Bart. "I'm Hope. Nice to meet you."

"What Court, now?" she asks, picking up on the other thread.

Tim Drake has posed:
"Eh, just an old fairy tale of Gotham. Everyone hears the rhyme as children, but it's basically the bogeyman. Secret society pulling the strings of absolutely everything, with evil assassins called Talons that will end you if you even mention their existence." Tim mostly brushes it off. "Court of Owls. No one took them seriously until the Talons actually popped up. I'm still considering if it's just some villain aping the stories instead of, you know, an actual secret society."

Bart Allen has posed:
Bart Allen looks over to Tim, and says "Yea aint like Gotham has a long history of weird and crazy things creeping out of the woodwork. He finishes his cereal, and is off washing the bowl, back in a moment, he offers his hand to Hope "Hey, say you at the club the other night with who looked like me Laura's kid sister?" He asks, as he remembers seeing Hope.

Conner Kent has posed:
"It is not a very nice rhyme," explains Conner, then clears his throat:

"Beware the Court of Owls, that watches all the time,
Ruling Gotham from a shadowed perch, behind granite and lime.
They watch you at your hearth, they watch you in your bed.
Speak not a whispered word about them, or they'll send the Talon for your head."

He rolls his eyes. "Might be one of Gotham crazies out to cause trouble. One would say the Court of Owls would have been taken down the first year Batman was Bat-butt-kicking through Gotham."

Hope Summers has posed:
"Yeah, that's Gabby," Hope nods to Bart, smile easy. "And about as accurate a relationship as you can get, given the circumstances." She looks back to the others, listening to the rhyme and the explanation.

"So you're telling me hydras and dragons and dimensional travel and all are cool, but you're not sure you believe in a secret society?" she asks, quirking a brow. "I'm just saying, on a scale of one to ten..."

Bart Allen has posed:
Bart Allen looks over to the group, and says "Sorry to run, but I am supposed to meet my Grandpa at Jay's house for family dinner." He waves and is gone with a blur of lightning.

Tim Drake has posed:
"Not that I don't believe it," Tim shrugs. "Just that it's really weird the Batman hasn't run into them until now, given everything else crazy that happens in Gotham. Anything happening in this city without his knowledge or notice is..." he makes a face. "It's not //impossible// to keep secrets from him, but it's just highly doubtful."

Rose Wilson has posed:
"Maybe they were purposefully inactive to avoid notice?" Rose suggests, having drifted off to check her phone. For. Something. Who knows.

Conner Kent has posed:
Conner nods. "The world has gotten too large for this kind of thing. We have the Internet and every citizen is connected all the time. We have alien visitations, gods living in New York, and soon a tower in the moon."

Or maybe it is because conspiracies like the Court can no longer exist that they are being brought to light now.

But it is probably just the Joker or Two-Face up to something crazy. "Are you guys going patrolling tonight?"

Hope Summers has posed:
"Or they're such an ingrained part of Gotham's corruption that they couldn't be separated out from the normal stuff," Hope shrugs. "Easy to misattribute something when 'normal' is relative. Also, if there are secrets from high-level telepaths, I'm reasonably certain there can be secrets from Batman. Nobody's perfect."

He's standing right behind us, isn't he?

Tim Drake has posed:
Tim rolls his shoulders. "Yeah. Narrows down into Founders Island. Doubling up means covering more ground, which makes patrols a little more tiring. But it is what it is. Been fairly quiet the last few patrols, though, thankfully-- but I figure that means we're due for something sooner rather than later. The crazies tend to be quiet before they get riled up, like it is going to throw us off or something. But considering they do it //every single time//..." A shrug. "I just would rather deal with shit going sideways in the Narrows than down on Founders. Place gets creepy sometimes." He reaches over idly like he is about to take Rose's hand, but stops himself as if thinking better of it.

He smirks at Hope. "Don't tell him that. Last time I did, the training I got put through made me sore for a week." He might be joking. He might not be. His face gives absolutely no indication of it.

Conner Kent has posed:
"Too bad," replies Conner. "About the patrolling, I mean. I was going to suggest going out to watch a movie all the gang together. Or maybe go dancing to a club. You made me jealous with that party in New York the other day."

But he was in the North Pole. Without cell phone coverage. He forgot to ask Superman the wifi's password.

Hope Summers has posed:
"Eh, sounds like a win-win to me," Hope shrugs, through she flashes a grin in Tim's direction anyhow. Summers family training sessions aren't exactly sunshine and rainbows either. It's just a whole different set of dysfunctions.

"Well, if you want a hand, let me know. Sometimes I'm working on things for the X-Men, but I'm kind of...on reserve a lot of the time, so. Can always help cover more ground."

Tim Drake has posed:
"Not up to me," Tim replies, "but I'll pass along the offer. The boss gets touchy about outsiders working in the city. Law of escalation, I think. Too many metas and mutants throwing down with the scarecrows and clowns, we all turn into pumpkins or something." There was a joke there, somewhere, but he lost the thread. "But appreciated. Especially with how things have gone lately."

Hope Summers has posed:
"Your turf, your call," Hope agrees easily. "Though, for the record, I'm //literally// just matching whatever gets thrown at me," she points out, smile wry. "Constitutionally incapable of escalating. Just matching pitch out here." That's not //entirely// true, but close enough for the moment at least.

"You guys keep mission reports and after-action reports and the like in your records?" she asks, moving on. "I figure it'd be smart to read up, make sure I know where things are at."

Tim Drake has posed:
"Not formally, yet," Tim replies evenly, though he's sure that might get a groan or dispute from the others. "I do my own writeups of these things for reference later, you can pull them up from any of the screens around or the lab." He finishes the can and puts it on the table. "Most of it is just... well, missions haven't been much of a thing yet."

He looks a little grim for a moment. "But they will be. Once we're more comfortable working together, know each others strengths and weaknesses better? There's too much out there that we could help with."

Conner Kent has posed:
"Like N.O.W.H.E.R.E., right?" offers Conner. "We should also watch out for guys that made Laura. A place she calls the Facility. They make NOWHERE look like Benedictine monks," he is about to tell them what Laura said, but he changes his mind. Laura was too impersonal and detached with some very personal matters.

Hope Summers has posed:
"Nowhere?" Hope echoes, looking between them. "I remember Laura saying something about where she came from. Gabby too. But yeah, the knowing each others strengths and weaknesses, that's sort of where I was going with looking at after action reports and the like. There's only so much time to train with everyone, but I figure if I look at what you've done in the past, at least I'll have a frame of reference."

Tim Drake has posed:
Tim gives Conner a single nod. "Yeah. I've been looking into them. NOWHERE. I think..." he narrows his eyes. "Mm, not yet. I'm close to something, I think, but it's like pulling invisible threads to weave a blanket." He shakes his head slightly. "I'll add this... Facility to my research." His jaw sets a bit. "I'm not against whatever we need to do to shut places like this down for good."

Conner Kent has posed:
Conner does want to ask Tim how far he has gone in the investigation, but it might now be a good moment. "N.O.W.H.E.R.E. is the organization that created me. They are... hmm, I don't remember much, but when I investigated, it looked like they were involved in the kidnappings of some young superhumans. I want to find them, find out some things, and likely we will have to shut them down."

Hope Summers has posed:
Hope grimaces, shaking her head. "You know. I just have to ask: How often has this actually worked out for any of these evil organizations? Because it seems to me like whenever they go out and create people, or kidnap kids and raise them to be killers, or whatever else, it usually ends with those people coming out on the good side of things. You'd think they'd come up with better methods at this point."

Tim Drake has posed:
Tim snorts. "As long as they think they might profit or gain power from it," he responds. He stands, leaning down and stealing a brief kiss from Rose. "But I need to go get a couple of things done before patrolling tonight. Conner-- we'll talk later. I have some leads, but not as much information as I'd like before we jump." He gives Hope a nod. "Good talking to you, Hope." Tossing the empty can in the trash as he leaves, he heads out the kitchen door towards the stairs.