Owner	Pose
Phoebe Beacon	Liminal: Adjective. To be on the threshold of another place, or feeling, or event, but not all the way through yet.     Liminal spaces include stairways, convention centers, door threshholds, and empty parking lots.     As a magician, Phoebe feels comfortable in these liminal spaces, transitional places, and the little-used second floor balcony was where she liked to hang out and just think. Today she had her legs beneath the bottom rail of the railings that separated the standing space from the drop to the ballroom below. She was wearing a pair of older jeans and a soft T-shirt promoting a local Gotham band. She's bleached her braids white, with the red tips having faded to a pinky-orange color. Idu was laying at her side, tail slowly sweeping back and forth, head on her lap.
Tim Drake	The entirety of Wayne Manor feels like a liminal space to Tim, these days. Especially on days like this: quiet, cold, rain dappling against the windows, the ever-grey light of Gotham slanting in through the panes. He feels nomadic, with how often he seems to cycle through the places he suppopsedly calls home, whether it's here or the Roost.     The penthouse apartment downtown under his name doesn't really count. It's more convenient space for storage (and hiding when he feels it appropriate) than a home. Too much of his mother's preferences for home decor -- fashion over function -- for it to be comfortable.     Today's a manor day, it seems. His footfalls are nearly silent, especially given that he's barefoot, still walking around in his pajamas. Sweatpants and t-shirt, in this instance. The question is always: did he just wake up, or has he not gone to bed yet?     It's probably the quiet click-click of claws against the expensive parquet floors that announce his presence more than anything. He's got his nose in a book, not paying attention in that still-mostly-aware way of his, but Yap determines their pathing and the Jack Russell Terrier with his mismatched ears decides that a detour to say hello to Phoebe (nominally) and Idu (mostly) is in order. Tim settles down next to Phoebe on the floor without a word, but he tucks his legs into a fold rather than letting them dangle. Then he turns the page.     "The Path Between the Seas" by David McCullough, for anyone wondering. It's a book about the creation of the Panama Canal.
Phoebe Beacon	Idu lifts his head; he's long since outgrown the Jack Russell's size and is almost to his adult size, but is still all legs, elbows and knees, in that 'lanky teenager' fashion. His tail thuds against the floor as he greets Idu with a yawn, and Phoebe looks over and does the same, offering a scritch to the terrier's head as he comes to say hello, and then the teen looks over to Tim, and gives a smile, and then, perhaps oddly, just leans into him, and exhales.     "Beautiful day outside, isn't it? Perfect day to curl up with a dog and a book."
Tim Drake	Yap has the kind of confidence that a lot of small dogs have, though his is an undeniable swagger. He also, blessedly, has very few (if any) of the less desirable traits that most other small dogs have. Case in point: his name might be Yap, but he's not a yappy dog. He also understands when someone asks him to use his indoor voice.     However, running like a bat out of hell (while perhaps appropriate given where they are) is not exactly good behavior. And yet that seems to be precisely what Yap is trying to entice Idu into, jumping around the bigger dog like he's got a Z-target lock onto Idu's head. His claws continue to skitter across the floor, only just managing to maintain a grip with his paws.     "Yeah. Finally working my way through the stack on my nightstand," Tim says. He leans back against Phoebe, careful to moderate precisely how much weight he's putting against her, but then lets the side of his head rest against the top of her's.
Phoebe Beacon	Phoebe might not let on to others how desperate she is for a touch she can trust. Her breath shivers a little bit, but she settles against and beneath Tim, her eyes closing as she relaxes. Tim might even feel the tension leaving her shoulder.     "Big stack, last time I saw it. I was thinking about picking a couple books out of the library. I never did read all the way through Moby Dick. Probably because my class was full of fourteen-year-olds and we were horrible children." she jokes.     Idu's blue eyes watch as Yap attempts to entice him to play, his head tilting this way and that before he stands, tail wagging, and lifts his head to try and get it out of Yap's reach, teasing the other dog.
Tim Drake	Tim's eyes are still rapid-fire skimming down the page. It's probably no surprise that he's a speed-reader; it's likely the only way he manages to get as much done as he usually does, in one day. And really, everything about Tim is just this side of obnoxiously competent, anyway, so this is no different.     "So much that it's been spilling onto Lonnie's side of the bed," he admits. "Though I think he's just picking out the ones that he wants to read first." Tim snorts. "Not like I'd miss them."     It's a really big stack, after all.     He lifts a hand out wordlessly, and Yap, who has taken the bait and started jumping and scrambling onto the other dog, immediately ceases and trots over, first bumping his furry head against Tim's outstretched fingers before settling half into his lap, hind legs stretched out behind him. "'Think not, is my eleventh commandment; and sleep when you can, is my twelfth.' Not exactly something either of us live by."
Phoebe Beacon	Idu looks quizically as Yip scrambles onto him, momentarily providing a comical look of something like the dog knight from The Labyrinth, and then as Yap goes to lay on Tim's lap, Idu comes over, padding languidly, and also headbuts Tim -- though this is on the shoulder not occupied by Phoebe's head, and then flops down bonelessly behind the two humans, tail giving slow thumps as Phoebe reaches to scratch his head.     "Yeah. We both do a lot of thinking and worrying. Not a whole lot of time sleeping." Phoebe replies quietly.     "Damian made friends with Idu yesterday. He's decided I'm worthy of being his sister due to me breaking Nacho's nose in kindergarten."
Tim Drake	While Yap is his dog in just about every way but the legal sense, Tim doesn't play favorites. Idu's furry head gets the exact same amount of scritching, like Tim has some invisible meter in his head that he's waiting to fill up. Pet The Dog - 73% complete | @@@@@@@@@@@@@@------ |     His job is done and his hand is free just in time to flip to the next page.     "Damian has a soft spot for animals, despite any claims he might have made about not having soft spots," he says, a half-smile curving one side of his mouth. "Even without seeing it up close, it's obvious in the things he focuses on during his work with the Wayne Foundation. We all have our niche. Babs has an entire company dedicated to green energy. Tam and I are trying to solve the food insecurity problems of Gotham."     He wrinkles his nose, briefly distracted by something he's read. That he has to return to the top of the page and reread means either he's suddenly had his interest piqued, or something doesn't make sense. But the moment passes. Tim's voice has gone quiet as he asks, "Have you considered what you want to do? I know it's weird, coming into all this money all of a sudden..."     Though he bites his lip. "Well, I can guess. I know our situations aren't the same, but even if my family was wealthy, there's really no comparing to the Wayne fortune. It still feels like living in another world."
Phoebe Beacon	"... I'm terrified of suddenly losing myself in all the money." Phoebe admits, "Even on the stipend you afforded me as an Outsider, I tried not to use it." she frowns a moment, and purses her lips. Her nose wrinkles. "Which weirded me out when I first came here and Alfred already knew all my sizes and bought a bunch of neutral pallet clothes for me. I now own a pair of jeans that cost more than my first motorcycle did." she remarks quietly, and gives a huff of breath.     "Well. I'm pursuing pre-med at Gotham U in the fall. Maybe solving care for the homeless, championing human services reform? Making advances in Medical Tech affordable?" she questions quietly, and looks out over the ballroom, her eyes opening.     "When I mentioned to Bruce I wanted to go into medical, he seemed pleased."
Tim Drake	Phoebe's worries are enough for Tim to set his book down. Right on Yap, who does not seem at all bothered to be made a temporary bookmark. He looks quite comfortable, in fact.     "It's a valid concern." Tim isn't the type to mince words, not if it matters. Not if he cares. "Power is corrupting, and money's the worst kind of it."     He wraps an arm around Phoebe and hugs her to his side, a quick, tight squeeze at first before his grip loosens, relaxes. "If it helps I'm happy to send my anarchist, anti-capitalist boyfriend after you. If he can keep me humble, pretty sure he can manage with just about anyone," he says.     And it's a serious offer, even if it's phrased jokingly. Still, there's a distant warning tone sounding in the back of his head, telling Tim just how much trouble he could potentially be in if Lonnie and Phoebe teamed up against him. He'd be no match.     The challenge is kind of enticing, though.     His casual hug turns into another tight squeeze. "I'm happy for you, though. Pre-med's a lot of work, but you'll do great, I know. And we'll work with you to make sure you have everything you need for it, however much time you need to study. We're family. And that was true even before you and Bruce signed those papers."
Phoebe Beacon	"I think I can take Lonnie in a fight." Phoebe gives a wry grin as she's hugged, and she lets Tim hug on her. He's the short list. The one she can trust with everything. "I don't have to deal with the snoring if I break his nose." she adds in a soft joke, and she tilts her head back a little, taking a deep breath. "The papers were a formality. I think I knew Bruce was going to take me in once he asked if I knew who he was under the mask. And. You know. He didn't shove me off a building to certain doom." she whispers, as if Bruce might be listening in. And as Tim gives her another tight squeeze, she wraps her arm around his waist, and squeezes back.     We're Family.     And Phoebs bits her lower lip, just half of it, pulling it into her mouth and holding it with her teeth and pressing down on it as the familiar feeling of tears burns at the corners of her eyes, and she turns her head, and just buries it into Tim's shoulder.     "... I let go of Sandalphon's gift." she mutters. "Maybe I should have waited."
Tim Drake	Tim shakes his head. "Be careful. He fights dirty." That's information hard-earned, for sure, and he says it with enough certainty that he's probably tested out the theory semi-recently too.     Beneath Tim's book, Yap's rump starts to twitch, his tail wagging and hind legs kicking. Apparently the dog had fallen immediately to sleep as soon as he settled. Tim rubs his thumb against the divot in Yap's skull, just above his eyes.     "I'm glad," is the first thing Tim says, to that revelation. Which may or may not actually be one, given how much he pays attention, but Tim doesn't speak on that. "Even though I know you're hurting, I'm glad you're feeling it now rather than leaving that hanging over your head. Things like that, the anxiety of it, it's no way to live, Phoebe."
Phoebe Beacon	"I had to separate the thoughts from the emotions. It was... it was a lot. Span of a year I've lost three parents, three homes. Three 'safe places'. I was scared. Terrified that I couldn't separate everything out." she whispers in quiet admission. Tim's shoulder gets a little wet, maybe, as tears fall. "I was scared that I wouldn't be useful, that if I couldn't function through everything I was feeling by myself, then... what good was I? I met a man with the face of someone I cared for, and he didn't know me and that just..." she strains her voice quietly, "... that broke my heart, the same way when Caroline said she never wanted to be my mom. If I couldn't function, how could I help the Outsiders? Or the League? Or Anyone?" she takes a deep breath.     "I'm sorry. I am so, freaking sorry for keeping you out of that loop. And not trusting that you wanted me as part of your family."     Her arm grips a little tighter, and it's obvious that Phoebe was crying now, her breath coming out in a squeak.     "I wanted a family I finally fit into /so badly/."
Tim Drake	Providing comfort still doesn't feel like it's in Tim's wheelhouse, but at least he knows how to be still, and how to listen. He doesn't know what to say, but part of him also thinks that there's really nothing to say, in these sorts of situations. So instead he just holds Phoebe like he has been, and lets her cry into his t-shirt.     "It's been a shitty year," Tim eventually settles on. Because it's the truth, and that at least is easy to say. "And you were always so focused on how you had to help us, but we just wanted to help you."     His grip on her arm squeezes, so that he can pull her in again, his upper body twisting so that they're properly hugging. "You fit in here. You've fit in here since I first met you."
Phoebe Beacon	Providing comfort is something that superheroism and belonging to THE NIGHT and VENGENCE and investigation doesn't prepare you for, but Tim's doing an ace job at it. Phoebe lets herself be held. She cries, sniffles, and gets hugs from Tim. Idu has his ears up, his head tilting a moment before he presses against the backs of the two in solidarity, and gives a huff of a breath, the quietest grunt of a gentle 'hwoof'.     And Phoebe just brings her other arm up, and hugs against Tim.     "Thank you. For being patient." she sniffles, and lifts her head, bringing one arm up to grind her palm into her eyes.     "Ugh, I'm sorry. I'll use all that money I've suddenly come into to buy you a new shirt."
Tim Drake	"You know the whole quote about having patience most of all for yourself?" Tim asks. And then he pauses, eyes narrowed, as he rifles through his mental database. "Think that might have been a saint, who said that. Anyway, point is: recovery's a long road. You've been through trauma. Take it easy on yourself."     Then he plucks at the neck of his shirt. Which is an old t-shirt for some sort of educational triathalon, branded with the Brentwood Academy crest. Yes, even fancy private schools make t-shirts for events. Though they tend to avoid some of the cheesier quotes and designs that you might see from other schools. "I got this when I was, like, twelve. Pretty sure this was supposed to be my dad's, actually, but I don't think he ever ended up chaperoning. Not a big deal, either way."     He winds his way out of Phoebe's embrace, or rather Phoebe from his embrace. And then he gives Yap a good scratch just below his left shoulderblade, which drags the dog from sleep as his hind leg begins to kick. "Step one in taking it easy on yourself is raiding Alfred's emergency candy stash, c'mon," Tim says as he climbs to his feet.
Phoebe Beacon	"Ugh. Don't make me drag out my Sunday School classes. I have enough hang-ups after growing up /Catholic/ and having to punch archangels in the faces." she replies with a wan smile, and she delivers a sisterly and very light punch to Tim's shoulder. Idu senses the movement and he stands up, then gives those biiiiig, looooooong stretches with that tongue-curling satisfaction, and then looks at the two humans and the smaller dog. Run?     Phoebe withdraws her legs from the railing, and hops up to her feet, rolling her shoulder.     "Sounds like an excellent first step full of proper brotherly advice." Phoebe gives a smile, and she breathes out, looking up at Tim, her eyebrows rising up.     "... thanks, Tim. I don't think I could have made it through without you in my life."
Tim Drake	"...I still can't believe we punched archangels in the face," Tim admits, vision going fuzzy as he stares off into the middle distance. But he gives himself a little shake, just as Yap does the same, full-body shaking as he wakes up, and then Tim smiles.     He loops his arm with Phoebe's. For a moment he's silent, staring down at her. "No. You would've." And that's that, decided, based on the conviction in his voice. He squeezes Phoebe's arm and then heads for the stairs, Yap running circles around them.     Because he knows that Alfred means food, and Yap always manages to convince Tim to give him a treat.
Phoebe Beacon	Phoebe looks up to Tim, dark eyes that cocoa brown with those little reddish highlights, and she gives a smile, leans her head against his shoulder briefly, and goes to follow him down.     "If you think that's weird, did I tell you we got to fight the Black Dragon from the Simarillion?"     And Idu follows behind, lankily loping because he's also learned Alfred means food, and he also convinces Tim to give him treats.