Owner	Pose
Karen Starr	Sleep was easy to come by in Karen's apartment. So high up, and in such a peaceful city as Metropolis, that Damian might catch more than a few winks having shacked up on the couch.     Whether Damian is able to get comfortable or not, it's several hours before anything happens. In the quiet morning time before the sun has even risen, Karen calmly walks from her room, and makes her way to the kitchen. That alone will probably be enough to rouse him, but if he decides to ignore it, then certainly the smell of coffee brewing will probably do the deed.     When he finally awakes- if he ever slept- he'll find 'Karen Starr' in the kitchen. She lacks any sort of groggy morning-hatred, and is as fresh as she ever is.     In her hand is a black can, with odd clawmarks in the shape of an M on the front.     "So uh, care to give me a rundown on why the murder?"
Damian Wayne	Damian hardly ever slept truly. A habit that was formed in childhood, after the first attempt on his life. The only time he'd really had the kind of sleep most humans get would be when he would sleep nestled with Goliath, especially after the bat-dragon reached his enormous size.   On the couch, facing the back, he didn't make a sound as she walked in, and started brewing coffee. But after a moment, he brought himself up, and to the kitchen.   Damian looked just as awake as earlier, when he tried to kill her, multiple times. "Attempted. Not that you could even prove it without giving yourself up." He sat at whatever sitting implement was available, looking dejected. "Stark Expo, Karen Starr bent down, and squished my face, commenting on my..." A pause, his face growing red for a moment. "Maternal genetics; while Damian Wayne was trying to have a semblance of normalcy." The boy's face looks down, before he exhales, loudly. "That did not last long. Not nearly long enough." There was a sadness there, one at least that a fifteen year old should not even know.
Karen Starr	Karen lingers there in the kitchen, leaned up against the refrigerator, taller than the appliance by a scant few inches. Idly, she sips at the energy drink a bit, listening to Damian speak rather intently. She nods a few times.     "I don't have any intention of going to the police. I just want to know whether anyone else has made whatever mistake I did." she notes, setting the can down and getting to work pouring a cup of coffee. She asks how he takes it, and when he answers, she gives a sigh. "Of course."     Sliding the mug of black coffee over to the teen, she responds calmly. "Yeah. It never does." she states, first. "But that's normal. Friends of the family pinch your cheeks. Talk about who you take after. I figured you could use a moment of someone treating you like someone other than Robin. Honestly, I figure you still could. Hence my question though, of why that warranted attempted murder."
Damian Wayne	The coffee mug is brought to his lips, even straight out of the pot, he drinks. More moments taken remembering Sam, then a gloved hand wipes at his nose.   His head snaps up as Karen, well, Kara explained what she did. His face wasn't angry, more confused. He had no idea that normal families did that, like at all. "Are you serious? They do that?" He kinda looked slightly disgusted, before taking another drink of coffee. "Then you know exactly who my mother is? You know I am not a normal Robin. Even if I wasn't Bruce's son."
Karen Starr	Karen shakes her head. She makes her way back to where she'd been leaning, pulling up the can. "Let it cool." she states, taking a sip of her own drink. "You sip it that hot you'll just burn your mouth. Even if you don't -feel- the pain you'll mess up your tastebuds. Lose the sense for a little bit."     That comment aside, she speaks up again after a moment. "I don't know anything about your mother. I can see the parts that are Bruce. I haven't seen the rest before. Doesn't seem like anyone familiar, but it's not my mystery to solve." she states, offering a mild shrug. There's a little impassivity there- like it's Damian's job to clear up the confusion.     "Yeah. I mean, maybe it's not the most common thing in the world anymore, but that's the way it goes. You're not uh- You're not doing anything about the notion that you could use some time without anyone expecting anything from you other than what they'd expect of any other teenager."
Damian Wayne	Damian still kept sipping. "It's fine." Before he listened to the rest of her explanation. "Before I showed up in Gotham. I was a master assassin, under Ra's al-Ghul, my grandfather. My mother, is Talia."   He tried to continue explaining why after all these months he still attempted Karen's life, but the words were hard to come. "I...he left us. The other boy there. A comrade, former Titan. I guess I was trying to rid myself of the one reminder still left about him. But you broke my favorite garotte wire, and my third favorite sword."
Karen Starr	Karen polishes off the energy drink, and tosses the empty can into a small bin under the counter near Damian. "I see. I'm afraid I've never met either of them, but... I've heard some things. Not much, but some."     There's a quiet sigh. Power Girl doesn't really have to have super hearing or vision to guess that Sam was important to Damian. "It wouldn't have worked." she remarks, folding her arms at the same time as she crosses one leg over the other. "You'd have found something else. Trust me. The issue here isn't me, or whatever little thing that reminds you, it's you. It's -that- you can be reminded."     She pushes off of the fridge, taking a step forward. "We're not going to touch on whether I broke some of the more important tools in your murder-bag. You can't just go around killing people. Especially not if they remind you of someone you wish was around."
Damian Wayne	"Spoken like a true Kryptonian." Damian quips, before continuing on the coffee. "It was to be one last kill. Before I burned this..." Grabbing at the collar of his sneaking suit. "For good. Guess that's not going to happen now."   "Either way, it didn't work. If it had, we wouldn't be having this conversation. And I would have had to rehome your cat." To which, Damian was glad Stinky didn't really give a shit about him coming into the house. "Besides, our kind don't exactly have a leg to stand on when it comes to laws they ignore and laws they abide by. Due process, vigilantism, fruit of the poisoned tree, habeas corpus."
Karen Starr	Karen snorts, offering this mild shrug. "Listen, it's not my job to teach you this," she starts, offering glimpses of mercy that perhaps she won't proselytize. "But I'm going to anyway." Before expertly bringing those hopes crashing right back down to the ground.     "Then don't burn it." she states, rocking her head to the side. "Use it for something other than killing. It doesn't matter what it is as long as it does some good. Sneak into a food bank and mop the floors on weekends. Anything that makes things better." Placing her hands on her hips, she picks up after only a moment of silence.     "It's not about whether we have a leg to stand on, which we -do- by the way, it's about math." That's- Well, that's probably an odd way to say it. "Now, sure, maybe there are people out there that won't take the second chance if it's offered. That's the leg we have to stand on. The concept that we have limits to the depths we'll go. I can't convince you of that, because the other side isn't really wrong. I can tell you that it's not my place. I'm not -from- here. I don't -get- to make those judgments. I can lead the horse to water, but I can't make it prosecute."     Pacing again for a second, she steps out into the living room proper. Where she got the hunk of fudge she's suddenly eating is anyone's guess. "But you don't get to either. Your upbringing makes you unique, even -if- you were -'just'- Bruce Wayne's son. The wealth, the training. It makes things different. It makes you a man apart. You can lead the horse." She gestures now with the chunk of fudge, "But you can't make it prosecute." Taking another bite, she's mercifully silent.     "But even then. Discounting the Jokers and other monsters who wouldn't know a new lease on life if it grew a mouth and bit them, it's about math. Simple. Logical. Math. At twenty, thirty, forty years or more, a person has done something horrible. Maybe they can -never- account for that. The number is too far in the negative. If you -kill- them? That number remains in the negative. But, if you can somehow give them the chance to atone and they -take- it? It doesn't matter how negative they were, when they're done, at whatever age they go, as long as they really -try-, that number is -less- negative than it was before."     A short pause, then.     "Does that make sense?"
Damian Wayne	Damian finishes his coffee, before following her into the living room. "Well, at least one of you recognize it." As she explains she's not from here. But he remains silent for the most part, until she concludes. He was thinking, looking back at his sneak suit, then to random pieces of bricabrac. "I haven't killed since Batman took me in. I guess that's one thing I have not broken. But you make sense. At least it wasn't some drivel on 'we just can't' like everyone else has told me. Boring and trite. If we couldn't, we wouldn't be needed."
Karen Starr	Karen leans her head back against the couch Damian had slept on. She remains there for a minute, letting Damian think and answer her. "And you still haven't. That's good. It's really hard to balance that ledger. The numbers are too large. Unwieldy." There's a joke there, but Damian probably isn't the person to make it.     "So who was the guy?" she asks, after Damian finishes- but not directly. "You don't kill for just anyone. There's a whole lot of risk in murder, especially for you. Being followed, being found out, and so on. So who was it all for?"
Damian Wayne	Damian's face had gone from guarded, then softened to sad, and back to guarded in the span of maybe two seconds. He hadn't expected to be asked.   "He was the first person who knew me. Not by name, or prior accomplishments. He knew -me-. Call it a first love, or teenage whatever. But he...was special." It was clear Damian was trying to understand his own feelings, he was sensitive, yet without the toolkit to process most, of not all of what that needed.
Karen Starr	Karen whistles quietly at the roof. The fudge is, by now, simply gone. She noted the way Damian's face twisted through a couple of emotions he wasn't quite great at hiding- or rather, wasn't perfect at hiding- yet.     She even chuckles, a little bit. "Yeah. I remember feeling something like that. There were these three 'sisters' while I was training on Themyscira." she notes, seeming off in her own little world for a moment, but coming out of it gracefully. "What I call it doesn't matter. What do -you- call it?"     Hands now behind her head, she offers a shrug, and a sympathetic expression. "I can tell you what I -think.- Might help you figure out the term you're looking for."
Damian Wayne	Damian's face blushed, before he shrugged. "I don't know might as well hear what you think." Seems not understanding emotion much, runs in both his families.   "Your last explanation did much more than everyone else's."
Karen Starr	Taking her hands out from behind her head, Karen looks down for a moment or two. The way Damian spoke, it was all pretty familiar. "You tried to kill me five hours ago, and now my opinion's important?" she asks, rolling her eyes... But she doesn't pause for long.     "Right. Well. I feel like it probably feels like he understood you in a way that was intrinsic. Something that seems like it couldn't have happened, but it did. It was emotional. It was physical, maybe. It's physical a lot of the time, I'm told. Either way, you connected with him in a way you've never really connected with anyone else."     She drapes her arms on the couch, and puts her feet up on the coffee table, because it's her damned coffee table. "It probably sounds trite, but it sounds like you finally found someone who you could connect with in a romantic way. I think, maybe it wasn't meant to be, but it was love. Again, you don't kill for just anyone."
Damian Wayne	"Five hours ago you also weren't Power Girl. You were the lady I had never met before, and pinched my cheeks in front of thousands of people and press." Damian shook his head. "No, nothing more than a kiss. But he was like me, background similar, if you can think more than one international terrorist organization can grow child soldier-assassins. We didn't care about all that, we were just...Damian and Sam, not Ibn al Xu?ffasch and Scorpio."   Damian's al Ghul eyes softened just a bit. "So, now you know. Between anger and being reminded, I decided to snuff out a life that, ironically, I was ill-prepared to do. Congratulations. Karen Starr is the only assassination I've ever not completed."
Karen Starr	"Let's not mince words. Five hours ago I was Power Girl, you just didn't know it and weren't ready for that. I was still the lady you hadn't met before, who pinched your cheeks in front of thousands of people and press. I still am, and I'd do it again in a heartbeat. D'you want to know why?" she asks, only pausing for a moment to await an answer.     "Because your father does his -best- and most meaningful work in the identity people aren't afraid of." she notes, leaning forward in her seat. "Maybe you don't value it yet, but I'm betting even he needs moments- small, insignificant though they might be- where he can forget that he's got a laundry of people to throw things at and punch in the face."     Leaning back again, she offers a smug, but friendly smile. "You see, that's what I'm talking about. He was someone with whom you could could just be You. You didn't have to pretend to be either Robin or The-Damian-You-Show, or this Ibn guy. You were you. The part I can't tell you is how to get it again. I can't tell you who to look at. I can only tell you that it sounds like you're figuring things out, and that, brace yourself, Batman's son might not be what other people would describe as normal."     The sarcasm on that last bit is palpable. "But what other people would describe doesn't matter. Clearly, you liked it. If I were you, and I'm not, but if I were, I'd porbably try and find it again. Someone, somewhere."
Damian Wayne	>tt< Echoed in the room, it was Damian's way of expressing true discontent. "As true as you might be, I doubt Superman puts on a fat suit. And...in some level. The fact you are Karen Starr gives you an insight into how a billionaire's life is as well. So, yes. Your opinion in the last five hours has risen." Damian takes a seat on the couch again, before giving a nod. "Right you may be." Once she gives her opinion. "I doubt I could find someone nearly like him again. But I will try."
Karen Starr	Power Girl snorts, "Yeah well, Superman and I have to deal with entirely different sorts of LLs." she notes, "I wear that because it's necessary to make people believe Karen Starr and Power Girl aren't the same person." There's a quiet exhale as Karen reclines, staring up at the roof.     "I never said it would be easy. Goodness knows I haven't been able to find a girl in a long while that I've felt that way about. But it's not about finding someone like him, or finding someone like -you-, it's about finding someone -you- like." she states, offering another slight rise of her shoulders.     "In this guy's case he was really similar in upbringing. It might be that again. Might be the way someone carries themself, at first. Might be the way they talk, or how they say the right things to you about the right things, even things you never thought you'd care to listen to anyone about. You'll never find anyone with the same -exact- qualities. If you look hard enough, though, you'll find someone who makes you feel the same way. That's all that matters."
Damian Wayne	"I don't know him or the rest of his ilk, other than you, of course." Damian looks around, realizing that the sun was going to give him away now. "I'm going to have to find a different way out. Didn't bring a mask with me."   Damian took a moment to look through his equipment. Searching through pockets for something he could work with. "For what it's worth. I still hate this city, nothing this idyllic can truly be such. It's the televangelist that looks too perfect. Someday, they'll find the ugliness that it's been able to hide so far. And when that happens...Gotham will pale in comparison."
Karen Starr	At that Karen looks sympathetic, but her answers likely aren't the ones Damian wants to hear, really. "You have a spare at the tower?" she remarks, maybe a little bit -assuming- that Damian is part of the Titans. "I can get you there without being seen." So helpful.     There's a laugh, then, directly and cleanly. "It's only idyllic because we clean the windows. Metropolis needs us. It's not perfect- far from it- and people already know how ugly it can be."
Damian Wayne	Damian nodded at the suggestion. "Yes, I do. And despite not happy at the concept, I am left with little other options." Yeah, he was aggressively independent, much like a cat.   As she explains the different points of Metropolis, Damian gives a shrug again. "Except Metropolis doesn't get nearly the same negative press as Gotham."
Karen Starr	Karen chuckles a moment. "Don't worry. It'll be fine." she notes, doing her best to be comforting. "Just wrap your arms around my neck like you're trying to kill me again. Am I aiming at any specific portion of the tower, or will anyplace suffice?" she asks, plucking up the white costume and half cape. She departs the room in a blur, and is back after only a moment, wearing the full Power Girl regalia.     "Yeah, that's actually very unfortunate. There are a lot of good people doing good work in Gotham. Trust me, we all know. There are more than a few of us that aren't happy with how negative everyone sees the place, but there's only so much we can do about it." she reaches up, and puts a reassuring hand on Damian's shoulder. "One day, you and your dad, they'll eventually figure out that they should have been rooting for you the entire time."     However, to cap that off and make sure that Damian doesn't get too sappy, or too happy with her presence, Power Girl reaches up and ruffles his hair, because he's short and she's tall, and there isn't a damn thing he can do about it.
Damian Wayne	Damian was born with straight jet black hair, the kind that could be three inches long and stand straight up. While it does get mussed, his crew cut goes straight back to form after. "Great. Just great. You just had to rub salt on the wound. You already have my sword."   Standing up, Damian looked to Karen, and started to measure her up, judging just how he would get approach trying to give her a head scissor. A move that he's done many times against gang heavies. That should work on a Kryptonian, right?
Karen Starr	Karen cannot read minds, but she is aware that the headscissor takedown is a difficult one to pull off, and that it probably won't work on anyone who can fly. She's ready for him, basically.     If we're being fair, the better move is to get out of line of sight by hiding under the shelf, and then stabbing her with something magical or made of kryptonite. He'll probably think of that and stow it away for later.     Regardless, she turns her back to him, and comments. "Climb on, and listen. Just because both of your parents are doing their best to make sure you never get to spend a moment edgewise as a teenager, doesn't mean I'm going to." she notes, waiting for Damian to cling to her spine so that she can fly him to the tower.     "When you get back, just talk to Alfred about it. I'm sure he'd approve."
Damian Wayne	Damian climbed up, much easier than one would think. Being as short as he is, and his current, and former professions, he knows how to maneuver himself.   "I'm sure Pennyworth will jump at the opportunity." He said, in a sarcastic tone, but only because he knows how Alfred would react. "Keeping it from the rest will be the part I have to work on. Not even Batman. Just the others."   Damian held on, looking slightly perturbed that he is having to rely on someone else for a ride.
Karen Starr	Karen takes a couple of steps out of the still-open patio door. Until now, it was basically taken for granted, but as they pass through it, there seems to be a field of some kind, keeping warm air in and cold air out. It's not the most advanced tech ever, but it is pretty nifty.     Karen isn't on that balcony for but a moment or two, before she takes off- out of sight of prying eyes, as only someone taking a rooftop perch like Damian had the previous night would have even seen her balcony, let alone who was on it.     The flight will be... Easy enough. She doesn't put any more than a few Gs on Damian. The only question is whether or not she gets him there without being seen.