3208/I'm your biggest fan, I'll follow you...

I'm your biggest fan, I'll follow you...
Date of Scene:	02 September 2020
Location:	Courtyard: Themysciran Embassy
Synopsis:	The cat is out of the bag, as Gar and Terry's heart-to-heart is broadcasted to the world by a paparazzi.
Cast of Characters:	Terry O'Neil, Gar Logan

---

Terry O'Neil has posed:
It had been a fairly embarrassing moment- Nick suddenly becoming extremely obvious at the exact same moent that Terry had stopped becoming completely oblivious. Under such pressure, the redhead reporter had no other recourse but to run, run to refuge and recover.

The courtyard below was a perfect place to seek solitude and to catch one's breath- as well as a nice hidden corner for an unwitnessed transformation. The Cheshire cat, not Terry, is sitting by the fountain and enjoying the reprieve. The nervousness of the human is replaced little by little by cool curiosity and, admittedly, a slight sense of amusement.

"Now doesn't that beat it all?" he says to himself, adjusting his shirt collar.
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Gar Logan has posed:
Minutes have passed. Gar lost Terry in the crowd. Could he have undergone a change, sharpened up his senses, and sniffed the guy out? Probably, but he wasn't there to make a scene by doing the bloodhound thing. He was trying to be on his best behavior, regardless of whatever Terry thought he saw with Gar, Diana, and T'Challa. It was just conversation.

No sign of Terry up on the rooftop, though. A good fifteen minutes of checking proved it. Did he leave? Get abducted by someone? Go off with Nick after all, unable to escape the lure of modeling for the guy? If so, what the hell?

Distracted by his thoughts, Gar ventures back down into the courtyard, which has ended up completely deserted, much quieter than the party above. Aimless is his direction, shoes crunching along the gravel path as he passes a few tall shrubs.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
It's the 'crunch crunch' of the gravel that piques Vorpal's attention. His eyes quickly pick out the shape wandering aimlessly around. It's good to have night vision, after all.

The cat slowly goes into a hunch, and then a crawl, maneuvering around the walking figure so as to not be seen until, just at the right moment, he can slide out of the shadows upright and, with a casual tone, speak by Gar's side, "You shouldn't walk into gardens by yourself at night. No telling when they might turn into a hedge maze."

Gar Logan has posed:
Gar Logan's jump is as predictable as it is probably entertaining to the mischievous Cheshire Cat that has found its human form in this world. "Aaah!" Gar exclaims, eyes snapping toward the previously silent cat, in his wine-red suit with the bowtie undone, leading to him outright staring as his hands plant at his hips, the body language a mixture of embarrassment and surprise. "That wasn't very funny, dude!"

Stare. Frown. Fsssst. Well, fsssst inside his head.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Funny is in the eye of the beholder," Vorpal says, crossing his arms with a smile, "And it was funny. Of course, now I'm be-holding other attributes and I think those are much more interesting."

He reaches over and brushes off an imaginary speck of dust from the white suit's lapel, and straightens it a little. "If I'd known white made you look this good, I'd have suggested an update to that uniform of yours, you know."

Gar Logan has posed:
Gar Logan opens his mouth, shuts it, repeats the process. It's a fair imitation of a goldfish, is it not?

"Maybe it was a little funny, but only a little," says the one who's usually so quick to be the butt of the joke, frequently of his own choosing. "Dork."

Green eyes slide down as the hand fixes up the lapel, and he turns the words around a little. "Now I get why you didn't seem to want me to pick that 'earthy' one Kate liked. You look, uh.." He stumbles over the words.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Like an international feline of mystery? I know. I was hoping that's the impression it would have." He smirks and reaches over to gently tap Gar's nose with an index, "Imagine the disaster if you had chosen that rust tux. We'd look like we belonged in a Vaudeville duo and had checked our hats and canes at the door."

He walks over to a bench and sits on it, one foot on the bench by his side. He's not wearing shoes, but spats matching the color of the tux. He must have had those custom-made, which explains his earlier comment on the expense of the tux. "Fortunately Kate has impeccable taste. You look like a prince right out of a fairy tale. An elven prince attending his first royal ball," the Cheshire cat grins. "Too bad there aren't any crystal slippers around, eh?"

Gar Logan has posed:
"Something like that," Gar replies, eyes crossing for a moment at the touch to his nose. "Yeah, that would've looked kinda bad. I..think it suits you well, no pun intended this time. It makes you seem..I dunno, mysterious fits." Like Vorpal said. He eyes those interesting-looking spats that leave the feet partly exposed, a unique choice.

He scoffs, "And I'm not a prince, or an elf, and crystal slippers aren't real. I do kind of like it, but I showed Diana the socks and now she wants to get a bunch for people."

He remains standing for the moment, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his pants.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"You've convinced the Amazon Princess that socks are a good gift. Congratulations, Gar, you have effectively ruined Christmas," the Cheshire cat grins.

He is no fool, and certainly he is not unaware of Gar's body language. His eyes flick to his hands in the pockets, the fact that he hasn't joined him at the bench, and he remembers that Gar was wandering around listlessly.

He has his suspicions. But somehow his natural impulses as the Cheshire cat make it less appealing to touch a subject directly. Why risk the direct approach and get bitten, when you can reach out a paw gingerly and bat at it to test your boundaries?

"Had to take a break from the party?"

Gar Logan has posed:
The hands fly back out, arms spread wide. "I /told/ her nobody wants socks for Christmas! Or ties! Or underwear! That isn't my fault!" he blurts, doing a fine job of selling the sincerity of it.

The body language reveals Gar to be somewhat confused and conflicted. There's a topic he could broach, but it seems he's skirting doing just that. Would it take away from just being able to enjoy seeing Vorpal looking this good? Probably. It would force them to focus on something else.

"The party? Oh, uh, yeah. Too much attention. You know how it is." A lie. When has he /ever/ complained about having too much attention on him? "So let's forget about the party for a few minutes."

Mind made up, he joins Vorpal on the bench and scoots up closer to him, lowering his voice. "When I saw you in that, bad thoughts showed up in my head," he whispers close to an ear. "I can't stop thinking about you in it."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Vorpal responds with a Mona Lisa smile to that comment, which loses its ambiguity a second later as it widens. "You started thinking that the earth was flat? Or that you /really/ can save ten percent off car insurance by switching to Geico?" he asks, in equally whispered tones as he reaches over and playfully undoing Gar's botwie with a tug, "Aaah, /that/ kind of bad thoughts. Sartorial thoughts," he says, tugging gently on the undone bowtie before leaning to the side in order to put a little distance between them and tease Gar just a little.

"I would call you fresh, but I have read in health magazine that fresh greens are good for you, so therefore this must be quite healthy."

Gar Logan has posed:
Gar Logan scoffs. "No, you silly cat. I meant.." The bowtie loosens, matching the state of Vorpal's black one. "Hang on."

He digs up his phone, and if Vorpal is looking closely at all he can see Gar look up 'sartorial' before hastily tucking it away and saying, "..yeah, that's what I meant."

The Titan shifts to scoot closer again, as they edge nearer to the side of the bench. "Going somewhere? I just wanted to spend some time close to you while we were here."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Chuckling a little, Vorpal leans back into Gar and puts an arm around him, "Why would I go anywhere? I've got almost everything I want right here." He rests his chin on Gar's shoulder, and he raises his eyebrows, "I'm a guest in the Themysciran Embassy, Wonder Woman is up on the rooftop, and yet I am quite content to be right here."

He looks around the courtyard. Everybody is pretty much upstairs.

Gar Logan has posed:
Except there is one person skulking about upstairs, looking for something juicy. You know how it is with those types. Snap a picture, make a little money. With everyone using cellphones these days, it's even easier to be quiet about it.

"It's pretty good here, yeah," Gar says. "I got to meet the King of Wakanda, and I almost tripped over myself trying to figure out the right way to greet him. He even knew about my acting!" he gushes, as if that's one of the best things imaginable.

But, content, pleased with what is. Right here, right now. "You're the most handsome I've ever seen you, you know that?" he whispers, voice lowered as he leans in to go for the mouth.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Vorpal blinks a couple of times, not used as he is to receive a compliment this openly from Gar. He completely fails at coming up with a witty reply, and suddenly he finds himself pulled into Gar's orbit, leaning forward. He makes absolutely no effort to stop the kiss. Nor that he really would have.

Gar Logan has posed:
"Did someone go speechless all of a sudden?" Gar asks after a few seconds. The expression on his face is a smoldering one, hinting at something deeper to it, more primal. Where has /this/ Gar been since they started getting closer to each other? More often than not, he's been the more hesitant one, unsure of what to do, what to say. Something is different tonight.

He grins, adding, "Someone got your tongue?" They say clothes make the man. Maybe it's true after all.

Meanwhile, the interloper finds a spot behind some bushes a level above the courtyard, near a stairway down into it. With his cameraphone, he gets a few pictures without the flash, checking them before sneaking off. Not before rustling the greenery, though.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"..."

In a way, it is a good thing that someone is chronicling this moment, as this is one of those few historical occasions in whch the Cheshire cat is at a complete loss for words. A second after Gar's question, though, he manages to gather an iota of his wits back, mesmerized as he is by the change in the green Titan, and manages to quip back "... yeah, *you*," before surrendering and going all in for the kiss.

It is to Gar's credit that Vorpal doesn't immediately process the sound of rustling greenery, being preoccupied with greenery of his own as he was. He is very insistent on getting that kiss, promises being promises and all that...

Eventually, though, his ear twitches, recalling the direction of the sound,

"mmm?" he says and then, drawing back and away from the kiss, he tries again, "Did you hear something?"

Gar Logan has posed:
Gar Logan is oblivious, completely and totally oblivious when it comes to hearing anything else nearby. This very moment, nothing else exists except for the wine-suited feline. "It wasn't /that/ much of an mmmmph!" Cut off mid-sentence by the resumption of the kiss, he closes his eyes and leans into it, growing short of breath for a spell.

It's the cat's senses that lead to the interruption of the moment, and at the question raised his eyes dart to and fro, head turning away to look around the area. Seems empty. "Yeah, I think I heard you purring," he determines, a hand at Vorpal's knee.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"I can't be sure of that. Maybe we should try again and see if the sounds match," Vorpal jokes, but a purr does escape his throat when Gar touches his knee.

He reaches up and plays with the ends of Beast Boy's bowtie, tying it into a Colonel Sanders knot for fun, "I've been waiting for a long time for you to get this bold, mister Logan. I have to admit I enjoy it." His hand goes up to scratch Gar under his chin, "... and you do look like you're enjoying yourself. Was that gloomy appearance you had on earlier just because you were missing me?"

Gar Logan has posed:
Gar Logan muses, "We were thinking of selling this suit later to raise some money for charity. Now I'm thinking I might have to keep it. I can always make a donation anyway. And you have to keep yours."

The purr he hears brings a grin to his lips, a curious expression settling in as the tie is messed with, only for him to steal a look back toward the stairs again. There's an itch in the back of his head now, and it's got his thoughts wandering again, brought back when his chin is focused on. Not quite a purr out of him, but a low sound in the throat follows, his eyes going half-lidded.

"Oh, that," he starts, but doesn't finish yet. The pause is enough, the hand at the knee briefly squeezing before hesitating.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
The hesitation is noticed, but things have progressed to such a point that he doesn't want them to regress. He scoots closer and wraps an arm around Gar's waist, bringing the two of them close.

"Oh, that. It sounds like it was a something. So..."

He doesn't play fair. He rubs his cheek against Gar's, it's a very feline gesture, but also one that Gar himself had initiated once, before any of their feelings were ever confessed. Of course, Gar was groggy with painkillers then.

Gar Logan has posed:
No words until after the cheekrub, which brings his attention back around swiftly enough. "Mmmm. When I was in SoCal, I did some stuff at one of the animal shelters. It always made me feel better when a cat did that, but it's even nicer when you do it," he says, voice quiet, soft, the playful nature of a few moments earlier faded somewhat.

The gesture is returned, the arm about his body helping them shorten any distance between them on the bench, and his voice turns to more of a whisper. "I think I was feeling jealous," Gar confesses.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
This takes Vorpal by surprise. He blinks a few times, "What on Earth do you have to be jealous of..." he asks, but then the very recent events spring to mind. Events that he is going to have to clarify with his poor, glass-blowing friend, because he realizes that his flight could be interperted in a lot of embarrassing ways.

"... just to make sure we're on the same page... was it because Nick was hitting on Terry, and not because I beat you to the rust colored tux, right?"

Gar Logan has posed:
Gar Logan's answer to this is a slightly drawn out "Yyyeeeaaahhh."

He clarifies, "I guess I still don't totally get just how you and Terry are different. I know you're, like, bolder this way, and I think I kinda like that, but..dude, he was totally trying to get into your pants. Not right there, but modeling for him? And what's his name, again? Nick? I've never even seen him before. I just saw him trying to put the moves on you and I thought I screwed something up. I sort of blanked out for a minute."

Does this explain his more forward, aggressive attitude here? "And, yeah, maybe the rust colored tux, a little, but I like mine too."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Vorpal nods slowly, and chuckles, "Nick's an acquaintance from when I started at the Planet. I ran into his Gallery while on the beat, looking for places to highlight, and I got him hooked up with Lois for an interview. I... didn't really pick up on the flirting. I was suggesting he could do figurative work to appeal to people who aren't into abstract, and I suggested he could work off a model. I was thinking, you know, Kori, because her hair looks like it was born from fire anyways... apparently he was thinking about /me/."

He glances at Gar, "... this might actually happen from time to time, Gar. You've chosen to date the part of my identity that's... well, the least connected to my life. Vorpal has no apartment of his own, no bank account. Terry is the one that works hard for the money so Vorpal can have this tux," he grins.

And then his grin fades a little, "But it's also... complicated. You've observed there's differences. We're the same, but it's... kind of different sides of the same coin. Vorpal is the larger-than-life storybook character that gets to live it up, having adventures and dating this adorable guy..." he reaches over and taps Gar's nose gently, "... Terry is the ordinary guy with the job, and nobody flirts with him."

He pauses and raises his eyebrows, "Well. Until today, that is. I guess it took me by surprise because that just doesn't happen. I'll remind you that the first time you ever gave me a compliment, it was to the 'pretty kitty', not Terry."

He raises and lowers an eyebrow, very much how Groucho Marx might have done it, and his voice matches Gar's original whisper while he stays close to the other, arm still around him. "So maybe you're not the only one who is experiencing jealousy? But you at least were jealous of someone else. Me? I'm jealous of myself. How insane is that?"

Gar Logan has posed:
Silence reigns from the green Titan, for most of what Vorpal explains to him. Gar /can/ be a good listener, supportive of his friends that way. Sometimes, it's just because he doesn't know the right thing to say and he's good at giving people the attention he often craves.

"Kori's always gonna be the first one I think of for modeling, but I guess that's not who your friend was thinking of. And..I'm sorry. It's hard for me to think of you as separate from Terry. It just feels like another side of you, I guess, and I never meant to make you think I wanted one version of you over the other."

The closeness is maintained, though he begins to shift so he can rest his back against the bench, eyes turning upward before his nose is touched, causing it to wrinkle briefly. "In case you hadn't noticed, I'm not exactly an expert at relationship stuff. And I'm pretty sure when I said /that/ I was about to die from some crazy mechaspider, and I was knocked silly. You can't hold me to anything I said at the time, even if it's true."

As for envy, he murmurs, "Yeah, I was jealous of Nick hitting on you, or Terry, or whatever, but I get jealous of myself too sometimes, jealous of the me I try to be to everyone else compared to the real me."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"We are the same. Just different. It's like... okay. Are you friends with any drag queens? Because I am, and a lot of drag queens will tell you that drag is performative, a performance of a larger-than-life feminine identity that's at once very different from them and thus liberating, but also very /much/ like them. Someone once said that masks only hide the face that's on the outside... well. I'm the mask, Gar. In many ways, I guess I am who Terry /wants/ to be. But he's not larger than life. Vorpal has no ties, no past except what people know from a book. Can be just about anything." He pauses, and nods, "And I guess in a way that's why my other side is a little jealous, because there's this feeling that our relationship is part of the mask that he can never be. Like I said... mad. But we're all yada yada yada."

And then he takes advantage of Gar leaning against the bench to lean over and rest his head on Gar's shoulder. "But you really should cut that shit out. I love the you that you are, stop trying to be someone else."

Gar Logan has posed:
The insecure side of Gar Logan is threatening a return right now. If they're talking about masks, he may have one of his own as the cool, popular guy compared to the often neurotic side that fears losing everyone important to him.

"Maybe we're not so different, you and I. I never really got the whole drag queen thing, but I guess when you put it that way it makes some sense. Everyone has things about them they wish were different. I don't know anyone who's really /satisfied/ with everything about themselves," he says, shrugging in place as he gives Vorpal an open, honest look. "I knew Terry before I knew Vorpal. I already liked Terry, but Vorpal made me sure I wanted to get to know you better. Both of you, all of you, whatever."

He waves the words off with a hand, trying to show he's stumbling over them a little. After Vorpal goes to snuggle up with him and bury his head in closer, a hand lifts to rest between the cat ears. "I just want people to like me, even if I'm a big idiot sometimes." A few voices begin to carry. Others are starting to approach the courtyard. "Maybe we should get out of here."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Aaall of me, why not take aaall of me?" Vorpal croons, head resting on Gar's shoulder, a mischievous smile on his face. "Gar, stop it. People who matter will love you. And yes, I know exactly how conceited that sounds when it regards to me." He squeezes the green Titan with his arm, and then blinks.

"Yeah, we should probably head out. That's probably Diana looking for me to give me her bedroom slippers or something and I am not in the mood to faint in this tux. Come on, prince charming..." he places a quick kiss on Gar's neck before springing to his feet and opening a Rabbit Hole, "Let's go out for dessert and then we can hop over to my apartment for a nightcap."

Gar Logan has posed:
"Gah, will you stop that caterwauling?" Gar grimaces, feigning taking great offense. "If she did give you her slippers, I'd throw them at you for that."

He shifts around as they begin to get up from the bench. "And, I know. I'm insecure sometimes and I get all inside my own head and make things a thousand times worse than they need to be. I know we have to be careful because not everyone knows who you are, but I'm keeping both of you. Now let's scram."

The smooch is returned, along with a quick nuzzle, before they disappear just before anyone comes around the way to the courtyard. After finding an ice cream shop in the area, they share a fudge sundae and get back to Terry's place, where they change out of their formal attire into more comfortable clothing. "Damn, you're right. Even with that suit, I can see your fur all over mine."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
For Vorpal, changing into more comfortable attire in the summer also means changing out of the fur. Terry walks out of the kitchen with two sodas, barefoot and clad in an old pair of gym shorts and a white T-shirt. "Yeah, I'm sorry about that. If you need to take it to the dry-cleaners, just tell them you got attacked by one of the Carebears."

The redhead walks over to the couch and insinuates himself so that he is resting against Gar's chest. "I got you soda, though. Consider it an apology."

Gar Logan has posed:
"So your way of saying sorry is trying to induce cavities in me?" Gar asks, after they've already done the ice cream thing before. He's got a tank top on to go with running shorts, wiggling his toes in a pair of tiger-striped toe socks that go midway up the calves. Still, he doesn't turn the soda down, nor does he deny Terry the spot next to him on the couch.

The TV is on, some classic movie channel with the volume turned low. "I had a good time there, though. It was cool getting to talk to a few people, and I felt like a million bucks. I kind of liked a few eyes on us when we walked in."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Oh, you were quite dashing. It felt kind of surreal walking into a swanky event like that on the arm of a gorgeous guy. That kind of stuff doesn't happen to me. I'm usually the one behind the camera, and taking notes. Which I sort of was... supposed to be tonight, until the distraction... I'm going to ask Kara to write the piece. She was talking to a whole bunch of people, whereas I bravely ran away. Man, it's like I'm taking after Kent or something," he chuckles and glances at the channel, as the movie is ending and the sidebar shows what's coming up next, after a break.

"Hey, they're showing 'The Net' at 2 am. Wasn't that the movie your mom had her first role as an extra in? I can never remember... but we should watch it!"

Gar Logan has posed:
"I've done some red carpet stuff before, so I'm an old pro at this," Gar says, playing up the Hollywood thing just a bit. "But it wouldn't be anything without people like you to share it with the unwashed masses," he finishes, flashing a playful grin.

Said grin vanishes suddenly. "We..don't talk about 'The Net' when we're having family dinners, just so you know." That doesn't sound like a resounding 'Yes, let's watch it!' now does it? "I saw Kara around. She was definitely doing more to get a story than /you/ were. At least someone there remembered."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Terry doesn't contest Gar's Hollywood credentials- even if at times he feels the green Titan shores them up a little in his insecurity. "I like the red carpet. It goes with my fur," he says, and then adds "and my hair."

"Fair, fair. It's an awful movie. Boomer scriptwriters trying to write about computers and the internet and having no clue how either of them works. And, of course, trying to convince us that whatsherface is a total outcast... well, there are other late night-activities I can come up with," he says with a cheeky, suggestive grin, and then frowns at the screen.

"Oh man, one of those TMZ updates. Maybe we should cut our losses and go to bed now before we're bombarded with the news that some superheroine has gained a pound and therefore is to be shunned..."

Gar Logan has posed:
Gar Logan eyes Terry. "It does, when you /have/ the fur. Maybe if you get some of those in here, nobody would know if it was just carpet or all of your shedding instead," he deadpans, tossing back some of that soda since he's got it. A slow nod of agreement follows regarding the movie, then the corner of his mouth starts to curl into a slow grin. "You might have to show me a list, then."

He reaches over toward his phone, which is buzzing at the same time the screen is displaying some tabloid-style news. Thumbing the screen, he says, "Oh, it's one of those Daily Dirt things. Those guys are always.."

Mid-sip, he spits out the contents of the soda can, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. "Dude, if only! Uh, I don't think we have to worry about how I was gonna tell everyone about us, or Vorpal, or whatever. The cat's out of the bag now!"

Across the screen is the headline, 'BEAST BOYFRIEND?! MEOW!!'

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Terry stares at the screen in silence for quite a number of seconds as the Daily Dirt unfolds its daily offering. He stares. He stares for a few more seconds, still.

"... well," he says, "I guess I don't need to worry about the story that much anymore. Oh man. I'm in the tabloids..." he squints, "He caught your good side, at least."

Gar Logan has posed:
Gar Logan just stares at the screens, one his phone, one the TV. The photo is on full display. "Uh. So. I guess this is what it's like to feel like you're having an out-of-body experience. At least we look pretty good?"

That's when his phone starts buzzing. And buzzing. And buzzing some more. Social media blowing up, actual dozens of mentions already pouring in. Rubbing his eyes for a few seconds, he just shuts the phone off. "You're right about that. Your story, I mean. I don't think I have the energy to say anything on my accounts tonight. All of a sudden, I think I want something else." Eyes dart toward the bedroom.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Terry actually takes the phone out of Gar's hands, "Yeah, we can deal with this. Tomorrow. And together. You're not shouldering this just by yourself, okay?" Setting the phone down on the couch, he pulls at Gar's hand as he stands up, to get him up as well before leaning in to give him a gentle kiss.

"You read my mind. I don't have to be at the planet until ten..." he smiles, and pulls Gar along with him as he walks to the bedroom.