8737/Outsider Babies

Outsider Babies
Date of Scene:	19 November 2021
Location:	Roost, Gotham City
Synopsis:	No description
Cast of Characters:	Phoebe Beacon, Laura Kinney, Tim Drake, Gabby Kinney

---

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    THE ROOST, GOTHAM CITY, MID DECEMBER
    Once upon a Wednesday weary, pondering weather Gotham-dreary and many a page of long-forgotten lore -- when suddenly there came a zapping, as if somebody was gently tapping, tapping against some new and unknown horror -- it was Phoebe learning magic, and nothing more.

    And then the roost began to shudder, rising up and pitching utter dizziness as the ceiling suddenly is further than the floor -- and all within the walls of the Roost find themselves somewhat shorter, and quite quickly things might come to order wondering what all the commotion might have been for...

    A voice that sounds like Phoebe's comes over the comm system, though it sounds mildly squeaky.

    "Ah. There *appears* to have been a magical mishap... just... want to make sure everyone's okay! You may be experiencing some... shifts."

    And then, into the rec-room runs Phoebe, wearing glasses, her hair in two braids, wearing a T-shirt and leggings with happy little dalmations on them and a pair of bright pink sneakers with a certain cold-imbued Disney Princess on them. Of course, instead of her normal height, this Phoebe is more a gradeschooler in form, and looks absolutely positively PANICKED, carrying a very large book with her to some brighter light.

    "Oh no, oh no, no no no...."

Laura Kinney has posed:
Out from the elevator a figure appears. An extremely sneaky figure clad all in black. From the pointy cat eyes on her head to the tail with a bow on it. A black cat onsie. Quite unlike anything the former assassin owns. Unless Gabby has been putting things in her closet.

Sneaky of course until she takes a step. *SQUEEK* *SQUEEK* *SQUEEK*

The petite figure of Laura stops. Blinks a few times. And looks down at the bunny rabbit slippers she's wearing. "A... mishap."

Tim Drake has posed:
    And within the Roost, nearly napping--

    It's Tim. Tim, face down on his desk within the computer lab. Above him, a Matrix-themed screensaver in gradient reds and yellows. How long has he been asleep? Long enough that when he sits up, there's a distinct imprint of keys left in his cheek.

    The chatter over the Outsiders secure frequency draws him from his dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before--mostly nonsense about spreadsheets and due dates that always seem to have passed by without notice--and without opening his eyes, Tim flails a hand out until he manages to grab his communicator. "<<Hmmmishap?>>" he asks.

    Though, actually, it sounds more like "Mithap?"

    It takes some time for him to sit up, pushing himself away from his desk. Once he's peeled his eyes open, Tim stares down at his legs. Wait. Today's his day off, and he'd planned to spend most of it deep into some internet sleuthing. When did he put on a suit?

    His appearance, in the Brentwood Academy uniform--black slacks, deep purple blazer with the school crest on the breast, matching tie--comes only a moment later, preceeded by a shriek of "FEEBIE! YOU GOTTA FICK THITH!"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Uh.... yeah? Mishap. Spell went awry, I'm gonna fix it!" Phoebe exclaims, and she gets up on the counter to flip pages.

    "I'm TRYYYYYYIIIIIIIING!!" Phoebe protests from the counter, where she is on her knees, and she looks to Laura, and then looks to Tim, and she turns another couple of pages before she leans back. Her shoes light up.

    "Okay. Okay. We don't need to panic. This is a simple spell malfunction--" she states, and then she actually takes in the two outsiders.

    Laura in a cat onesie, and Tim in Brentwood Academy royal colors. She presses her lips together, and pushes up on her glasses. "It's okay! Everything is gonna be okay -- so -- I can't reverse the spell reliably. LUCKILY I think I know what I did wrong -- got the aim wrong -- should have aimed for opponent -- and the length wrong. It was supposed to freeze time for ten breaths. Instead... I think I reversed everything ten years."

    She pauses. "But it's *temporary*. It should last about -- fiveish hours."

Laura Kinney has posed:
Laura Kinney crosses her arms. And POUTS.

Another step. Another squeek.

"That seems," she starts, digging her hands into the onsie pockets and pulling out... A pair of brightly coloured plastic claws. "Like an understatement."

It seems like even lil Laura is/was extremely serious. The Facility didn't really do childhood in the way the others know it.

Tim Drake has posed:
    Nothing Phoebe is saying seems to be calming Tim down. In fact, the more she talks, the more frantic he gets, until his hands are balled into his hair. Which is a mess. Full chaos in untamed cowlick form.

    "TEN YEARS?!" he asks-slash-yells. Voice level moderation does not appear to be in ten year old Tim's repertoire.

    Nor is upper body strength, because he grabs hold of the edge of the counter and starts to climb up, only for his dress shoes to slap against the floor... once... twice... ah, three time's the charm. He gets up onto the counter on his hands and knees to stare at the book Phoebe's looking through. Though it's nothing he can understand, so eventually he settles on staring at Laura in mute horror.

    Slowly, Tim manages to regain control of himself long enough to properly think. He rearranges himself up on the counter, sitting criss-cross-applesauce, and tucks his tiny hand against his chin. "We should... probably lock down the Roost. In case the effect spreads." Pause. "And before anyone shows up to see us like this."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe is actually recoiling a little bit from Tim. The gradeschooler looks hurt, ashamed, and she rubs her shoulder, and then scratches at her chest a moment, and kneels down. "The effect is only going to last for a little bit, Tim. An' then we'll be back to normal. I promise." she states, looking down at the booka sif it might spontaneously give her a better answer.

    "It shouldn't spread. It was contained by my wards -- otherwise everyone in the neighborhood would suddenly be younger --" she wrinkles her nose. "I don't wanna think about what happened to anyone younger than ten. It was supposed to be a time-stop spell so I could tie Bart's shoes together, but it backfired, but this is temporary!" she reminds tim, and she sits criss-cross too on the counter, putting her head in her hands. "I know I know, lock everything down... but maybe -- maybe use this as an opportunity?" she asks, and her eyebrows rise up.

    "Neither of you had normal childhoods. Maybe we could go out and do something fun? Sledding -- or maybe an arcade?" she asks, looking to Tim and Laura.

Gabby Kinney has posed:
There's no squeaky slippers to announce the presence of another showing up. Nor anything, really. Silent as can be another pads in. Small in stature and rubbing at her eyes, Gabby comes out from the residental areas wearing of all things a bodysuit with those sort of sock-slippers that can be found in hospitals for long-term residents. The type with the rubber grips glued onto the soles. She IS at least dragging her stuffed honey badger Tim had gotten her along with her but now it was far larger compared to her newly seven-year-old self.

"Wha happened?" She asks, stifling a wide yawn before blinking at the younger teammates. It causes her to pause, and glance down at herself seemingly just realizing she was smaller, too. And miraculously without the scars on her face.

"... This better not mean I gotta retake more years of school!"

Laura Kinney has posed:
Laura Kinney waves the plastic claws around. They play a sound effect that's remarkably like a long drawn out SNIKT noise.

"I.." She glances down. "Do not have any shoes." Or at least she assumes she doesn't. The building itself doesn't seem to have changed. So it's /probably/ logical to think her unattended items are fine. Not that you can apply logic to magic. Or the Outsiders in general for that matter.

She sniffs the air. "Can I smell cookies?"

Tim Drake has posed:
    The mention of "everyone in the neighborhood" by Phoebe has Tim's eyes go wide again. He climbs-slash-falls off of the counter, landing with an "Oomph" followed up quickly by an "I'm okay!" as he scrambles to his feet. He heads past Laura for the computer terminal next to the kitchen door, only to divert at the last minute.

    He returns a moment later, dragging a chair from the table with him. It's only once he's standing on it that Tim is able to properly see the computer. And while the terminal is usually just a touch screen, he pops out the keyboard and starts typing. "Feebie rolled a nat one on a thpellcast," he reports as Gabby wanders in, not looking up from whatever it is that he's doing.

    Though if anyone cares to snoop, he's checking the exterior security camera feeds, as well as scrolling through the most recent call-ins to the Gotham emergency line.

    "What do you mean?" Tim asks as he turns away, the chair wobbling underneath him slightly. "I had a normal childhood."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "No, Gabby, we should be normal in a couple of hours, you're not gonna hafta retake school." Phoebe's Jersey accent comes out a little more -- and she tries so hard not to giggle at the plastic claws on Laura, but she tilts her head a moment. "Yeah, we could stop by a bakery! And get cookies as big as your head!" Phoebe begins to excitedly plot -- and she looks at Tim, hopping to her feet on the counter, and she walks to the side, and sticks her tongue out at Tim when he mentions she rolled a nat one. The rest of the neighborhood is fine, business as usual. Everything seemed to be contained to the few people in the roost at the time.

    "Tim, what school did you go to?" she asks in an amused expression, and she hops off the counter, and looks around.

    "I'm serious. For a little under five hours, we can go out and just be normal kids. We don't have to fight crime or contend with parental pressure or societial pressure or anything. We can go to an arcade and eat giant cookies and maybe even jump on trampolines or go to the *really fancy* playgrounds." she explains

Laura Kinney has posed:
"Until a supervillain tries to steal our candy," Laura states with another pout. "And it's Gotham so we know that'll totally happen if we go outside." Too suspicious for anyone her age by far. "I meant do I smell cookies in /here/."

She looks confused for a moment, then sniffs again. "I.. can't really tell." She stomps her slipper with another of the louder SQUEEKs. "I'm not sure I can smell properly..."

Gabby Kinney has posed:
Gabby Kinney pauses to look down at her hand holding up her fingers to tick off and count. "Ten. Ten minus nineteen... You probably can't smell it Laura, you haven't gone through puberty yet. Neither have I. So we won't heal right now. See?"

The hand that had been doing the SUPER SERIOUS calculations swings out to slam her hand to the side of the computer console Tim was working at. The very edge where it made a nice sharp point as she makes her own point regarding their abilities.

It's dead silent for just a moment. Just a moment.

A quickly sucked breatk comes, and Gabby's eyes widen with a sudden rush of tears. The breath comes again, more hiccupy this time, and she jerks her hand back finally as she just bursts into full out tears sobbing and hyperventilating.

"OHMYGOD THAT HURTS OWOWOWOWOOOOOOWWWWWW!"

Tim Drake has posed:
    Tim's still typing, though the small size of his hands is currently forcing him into a much slower hunt-and-peck method. Otherwise he keeps making typos. His WPM is completely shot.

    "What? Brentwood ith a normal th... th..."

    He struggles getting out the next word, hands balling into fists at his side. Deep breath in, deep breath out. "A normal... you know!" Then he sniffs, turning away. Though the talk of cookies between Laura and Phoebe is enough to sway him. "I have to go get paper money. No one will take a credit card from a ten year old," he says as he starts climbing down from the chair.

    Which is when Gabby does herself An Injury. Tim stands there, mouth agape, but almost immediately springs into action, towards the fridge. Only to backtrack for the chair, dragging it after himself hurriedly so that he can use it to reach the ice packs on one of the higher shelves. "Laura, catch!" And then he tosses it at her.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe is also making her way over to Gabby, and she says "Oh! Gabby! Hold on--" she whispers,

    "Brentwood is a rich kid school, Tim. You never had to do magazine drives!" Phoebe protests, and she ducks the ice pack, and she gives a squeak of "I don't think my magic is reliant on my physical age! I can fix it?" she asks, a little bit hesitant to get closer, and she looks between the others. "... I could try to break the spell early to get us back to normal."

Laura Kinney has posed:
Laura Kinney swings her hand up to catch the ice pack. Her reflexes seem remarkably good for someone her age, The Facility began her training pretty much from birth after all, it's just the plastic toy claws not only take up both her hands but the blades block the arc of the throw. So instead of catching the icepack it bounces off.

The icepack going back up into the air and across the room like a chilly vollyball.

From inside one of the plastic claws a 'SNIKT' sound effect plays. While the other makes what might be a 'Bub' noise.

Gabby Kinney has posed:
Gabby Kinney hiccup-sobs while holding onto her hand trying to just stop crying while aware of all the utter chaos going on around her. "I f-fo-forgot th-that..." She's trying to explain so very hard but it's been awhile since she felt pain. And awhile more since she was this age to begin with. Like Laura she had training from a young age, but that didn't mean she was any better at controling her emotions when she was younger.

Focusing her gaze on Phoebe she gives a quick little nod only to pause, and then shake her head quickly after. "Nu-uh nuh. Magic um, it... it comes with a price n' stuff right? What if the price of the last one is too big to do something else right after?" Kind of made sense, right? Another sniffle comes and she mumbles, "I want Zelda."

Tim Drake has posed:
    "I got it!" Tim calls as he stretches his arms up in the air to catch the ice pack. Predictably, it goes flying right over his head. "I don't got it!"

    But then he's scrambling down off the chair, which involves him having to sit down first otherwise he risks destabilizing the whole thing. Tim does, however, eventually make it down to the floor, and over to where the ice pack has landed. He picks it up and finds a hand towel in one of the drawers to wrap around it before he walks over. "Gabby ith right," he says as he holds out the ice pack.

    Briefly, he flashes a concerned look at Gabby, before it shifts to big sister Laura. He glances between the two Kinney sisters for a few moments before he huffs out a breath. "No point rithking it," he decides. "Cookie time! Come on!"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Most magic does." Phoebe gives a little smile, "But my healing magic? I've already paid for it, so I pay it forward, you know?" Phoebe explains quietly, but then it's time for Cookies.

    "Wait wait -- two of us are in pajamas and you're wearing your school uniform! -- not that it's not cute -- but uh... we would kinda stand-out, you know?" Phoebe states, and she looks around, and then rubs the back of her head "So many the second-hand shop first for some clothes? Or I could try to change them. I know a cantrip. It can't fail!"

    She gives a bright smile, and then loosens her shoulders and rub the back of her head.

Gabby Kinney has posed:
With Tim diving for the save, and missing, Gabby is at least distracted. She's further distracted with the mention of cookies. Looking between the pair she seems to slowly forget about her hand when the talk returns to cookies. "Oh, oh! What about M'gann's cookies? I mean if there are some left? Or the Oreos in the cabinet?" Surely there's SOME that Bart hasn't gotten ahold of yet.

Tim Drake has posed:
    Tim gets Gabby set up with the ice pack, and then he goes to check on the pantry.

    The door swings open, and he puts his hands on his hips as he stares up at the shelves. "Yeahhhhh I don't know if there are any left or not."

    On account of him not being able to see the usual stash spot. Not that any place is safe from Bart's hunger, when it strikes. Instead, he pulls out his phone. "I'll order cookieth to be delivered!"

    And while everyone else sorts out the issue of weather-appropriate clothing, Tim sits down on the kitchen floor, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth, and taps at his phone screen with his thumbs.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Delivery cookies -- what a time to be alive." Phoebe comments, and she flops down in such a boneless way that only kids can manage.

    "... I want chocolate chip macadamia nut." she states "And can they deliver milk too? OH! And smoothies!" she grins, and she looks to Tim, and gives a soft sound of laughter.

    "You still get that look when you're super concentrating on something!"

Laura Kinney has posed:
Laura Kinney stands there blankly as the ice pack bounces off and Tim dives after it. Like she's struggling to comprehend the mere notion she might be /clumsy/ in this form.

"I.. uh... I have some MRE packs with cookies in," she volunteers. Although Gabby will likely know the MRE packs are not exactly known for excellent baked goods. "They usually also have other candy." Although again they rarely have good candy. If you're lucky it's some shelf stable chocolate that hasn't gone weird. Or a cereal bar with tons of fruit in it.

Suspiciously she glances around the room. "We really should prepare defenses. What if villains attack while we're like this? Some kind of traps or a fort." Her head shifts slightly to one side and she bites her lip, deep in thought. "We could hook a cooking blowtorch up to a door handle with string..."

Tim Drake has posed:
    Sat on the floor still, Tim looks up at both Phoebe and Laura. And yes, his brow is furrowed and eyes narrowed in that very focused, Tim-like way of his. "Hm... okay."

    Whatever that okay is to, though, is a mystery. At least until he holds up his phone, displaying a bouncing cartoon cookie rolling down the street and the words 'Thanks for your order, master_of_the_duck_shun!'

    "I ordered a variety," he says. As he climbs to his feet, he tucks his phone away, and looks very seriously over at Laura. "You're right. We need to build a fort! Laura, you're on blanket duty! Feebie, pillowth! I'll work on the thupport thructure." And then as he stomps off into the rec room to begin, Tim sighs to himself. "I with I'd gone to thpeech therapy when I was younger."